This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.
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go for help tell someone, talk to your teacher, tell your parents or a trusted friend. if it is someone in your family doing this to you, go to a trusted friend, have them take you to the hospital and get a rape kit done. i wish I had then my rapists would be in prison today. don't take the law into your own hands let the police handle it for you and you just work on getting yourself better. and one other thing do not think about committing suicide because once you do that deed you don't get a comeback to life card. once you're dead, you're dead.
having family and friends as well as two cats around that love you and dont judge you because of this.
it actually began in the summer of 1975 when I was 8 years old. my brother came to home on thackeray court in the sheridan parkside projects. My brother brother 2 had just got his license and was so happy that he brought my brother along. while mom, brother 2, and my sister were outside, i was upstairs playing with my star trek playset, when brother came from the bathroom and asked me if I wanted to play doctor. I thought he meant the child's version of it, but he meant the grown-up version. so he asked me to take off my clothes then started feeling my naked body, touching my genitals and feeling my penis, and then said to me this is how people have sex. He then said some very filthy sex talk like you would read in hustler magazine, then said don’t tell mom or I’ll say that it was your idea. so mom and dad never knew about it. there was no police report or rape kit taken. fast forward to september of 1989 when I was 22 years old, my brother brother, his girlfriend, and their 6-month-old baby daughter came up from florida and stayed with mom and me for 3 months. And when mom was at work, they would rape me every night for 3 months, sometimes by her, sometimes by him, or sometimes by the two of them together. It was 90 days of hell every night. When I would go to bed, all I would think about is wanting to commit suicide just to make it all end. but I did not because mom finally found out about all of this in march 2012 when I turned 45 years old just for the simple reason he said that he would kill her if i said anything. So in june 2012, I started going to counseling because i was diagnosed with p.t.s.d because of it. i still go to this very day, 12 years later because sometimes my p.t.s.d flares up from flashbacks or because of the 4th of july fireworks and I talk to her about it, hold nothing back.
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