My Sexual Abuse Story

I am a victim of sexual abuse. It happened during my childhood by someone my family trusted, over and over, for a few years. I tell myself that I am okay, that I’ll be fine. But I never told anyone about it, because I was scared and ashamed, and I still am. I get an overwhelming feeling of sadness sometimes for no reason and I wonder why. But I know it’s because that shit fucked me up psychologically. I will try to tell myself that I’m sad because it’s a normal emotion and that everyone else feels the same way. l act like everything is okay, because I refuse to let it mess with my head. I was hurt by someone I used to think I loved deeply as family, but my trust was broken.
He took my innocence and self-worth. I self destruct everyday and make decisions that ruin my life but I can’t help it. My mind is stuck and my thoughts consume me. I have a pure heart but it doesn’t feel that way because of what he put me through.
I try to smoke my pain away because it helps me fade away from reality but as soon as that high goes away, that same sadness comes back. I feel numb but can care less, the weed helps me forget about my shitty life. It’s a cycle of pain in my head, my mind, and no matter how much I try to dull it, I can’t act like its not there. There is a pit somewhere in my body filled with darkness because of him.
If only I told someone about it, maybe things would have been different. My brain is filled with poison, filled with what if’s. What if I screamed, what if I called the police? But I didn’t, and that’s the problem. So maybe it was my fault. But I know it wasn’t. But doesn’t that put some sort of fault on me?
I miss X like crazy, relating to his music was my other escape. Being high and listening to his songs was everything to me, but he’s gone, and that shit hurts, knowing there is nothing else to connect with. Krimelife Ca$$’ song The Message, in which his suicide note, his life story in which he says he fights his thoughts everyday, fights the thought to end his life everyday.
I am trapped in this life, trapped in a life in where my thoughts jumble in my head, where I fight everyday to keep breathing. I think at times that I’m going fucking CRAZY because there are so many voices in my head telling me different things, but I know I’m not.
I recently told my friends at school about it through text, but I’m such a fucking pussy that I can’t even SPEAK about it in person. No words come out my mouth. It feels like there is barbed wire in my throat and everytime I try to talk, the tears and pain just show and come out instead.
HE touched me, destroyed me, abused me, guilted me, and he walks free. But what about the thoughts and pain that I go through? Nobody will ever care.
My family never even noticed the shit I went through. I would have figured that maybe my brother and sister would have thought something was going on, when he would make up stupid excuses to isolate me from them, to bring me into a different room. That time where we were at his house, and my cousin came into the room asking if I wanted food, and he said no she’s okay, she’s sleeping. I wasn’t, but he made EXCUSES, and nobody else fucking thought any deeper about it. How could you not think something was wrong?
My mom and I don’t have the best relationship, we fight a lot over stupid shit. I love my dad with my whole heart, and hope he is still happy when I am not in this world anymore. My parents think I’m perfectly fine, that I’m just a regular 19 year old who goes to college, works, and uses her phone. That depression is not a real thing to teenagers like me, because we have nothing to stress or worry about.
Regardless, I love both of my parents even if we don’t always see eye to eye.
I am just so tired of being trapped in my mind and reliving the same shit every single fucking day. I am so tired of fucking crying and being sad. I am so fucking tired of thinking about how I will have to go through this for the rest of my life. So what IF I decided to end it, right here, right now? Would anybody even care? They only care when you’re dead. Everybody is your friend when you’re in the grave. I will carry this with me to my grave. Where my soul will forever be in hell, because rather than talking to God about my problems, I smoke and listen to music to try to put an end to my pain. These voices in my head really make me think that I’ll just end up dead in a few years because the thought of living like this is too much. Do I just carry on with this pain inside of my head, inside of my chest? If I can’t be happy in this moment right now, how will I ever be okay in the future?
I wish my friends just looked deeper into my life to see why I’m so fucked up, but everyone just sees the exterior, the outside. Where I’m laughing and happy with my friends at college, where I temporarily forget about everything. But that train ride home is where it all hits again, where I realize that I can’t run from my problems. They will always be there to follow me wherever I go.
It is what it is, and everyone’s life is fucked up. I’ll always be messed up, but it’s the way of life.
This pain will never end and I truly believe that my death is the only thing that will bring me peace. Everyone is so scared of dying, of their lives ending, but isn’t it crazy how when X says I’ll be waiting on death with a smile on my face, that is my number one wish.
I can only hope that the sun shines for me one day, my broken heart and mind heal, I don’t hate myself anymore, and that I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

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