I just need to get this out so here it goes.
My abuse started when I was around 4 or 5 years old. Possibly earlier but that is as far back as I can remember. I don't recall any great details from the earlier stuff. Just that he would touch me a lot and would make me touch him. (him is my father) But as I grew so did the frequency and types of abuse. From ages 8-13 is when the abuse was the worst.
He started to become violent and angry with me when I didn't want to do new things. Eventually the things got real bad. He started forcing me to give him oral sex. And then one day he grabbed me and forced me into the shower in our basement. The pain was intense and I was shaking, trembling and crying and pleading with him to stop. He didn't. As I was pinned against the shower wall and couldn't move he forced himself inside me and the pain, blood and pressure were unbearable. And just when I thought the pain was over as I collapsed onto the floor, vomiting and shaking in pain, he grabbed my hair and forced his way into my mouth. I had my own blood on his P**** and I couldn't breathe, I began to vomit on him and he became furious and started slapping me.
After this I became even more determined to try and fight him off even after he threaten to kill me at gun point prior to the shower thing for fighting back at him. He hated me resisting him. That led to him using Duct Tape or rope to tie me up and then abuse me.
The worst one I can recall is being tied/taped to a chair, and when I clenched my teeth and wouldn't let him start to abuse me he grabbed his heavy duty stapler with the longer staples he used for his large reports and such, and he placed the stapler on my back/shoulder area and gave it a hard smack and drove the large staple deep into my shoulder. I was only around 10 years old then and the pain was horrible but I clenched my jaw through my screams and when I wouldn't let him SA me he drove another staple and then others until I caved and let him abuse me. He also hit me several times with the stapler and cracked one of my ribs.
The next few years were just more of the same from above. After several failed attempt at suicide I moved out at age 15.
Most of my abuse I didn't remember until just 4 years ago. I do remember some of the physical abuse but the other stuff I somehow burried so deep I didn't remember it until around the time my son was around the same age and was diagnosed with crohn's disease. It was several pictures I was looking at over the holidays that triggered my memories of this garbage. One of the pictures was of me around the age of 10 sitting in the very chair I was abused in.
I am in Therapy and getting some good help but echo what I have heard here often, I have trust issues and have a hard time making friends or showing any emotions etc. and I don't like Men much.
I have always felt like a freak and even less than human and that I don't belong anywhere.
Okay I need to stop now as even writing this out is taking its toll on me.