Hi all. Seeing as this is my introductory post, I'll try not to make it to long-winded. Sorry if it gets that way anyways. I guess this is the part where I have to let everyone know that there may be triggers in this post, so if that could be a problem for any of you, you've been warned.
My name is Ken, I'm 38 years old and I was sexually abused in one way or another for much of my childhood. Some of this abuse came at the hands of much older kids, some of it was perpetrated by kids not much older than me. This isn't the first time I've shared these experiences with others, nor am I new to dealing with them. I first shared my experiences with a close friend of mine when I was 18 and was in a very suicidal state. That friend of mine introduced me to a therapist he knew and I was in therapy for about a year and a half. Since then, I have shared these experiences in other on-line forums a couple of times but haven't in many years. I don't really know what inspired me to come here now and share them again. For some reason, the need to get all this shit off my chest and reach out to others who can identify tends to come and go.
Anyway, when I was about seven or eight I was befriended by some teenage girls who lived in our neighborhood. On at least one occasion, they took me back into the woods behind our apartment and molested me along with a little girl about the same age as me who I will call "M". They had M and I undress and instructed us to do sexual things with each other while they watched, stopping just short of having me penetrate her. I think they may have even tried to get that to happen but I don't think it did. I just remember how my head was swimming and that I didn't understand all the emotions the experience was evoking in me. I didn't even know what sex was yet. I was excited, embarrassed, confused, frightened and ashamed all at one time. I didn't understand why these two teenage girls would want M and I to do all of this weird, naked stuff with each other.
On at least one other occasion one of those teenage girls took me back in those same woods alone and fondled and masturbated me. I distinctly remember her asking me if it "felt good". I told her "yeah" although I wasn't sure it did. Was it supposed to? Why was it supposed to? Why did she want to touch my privates like that? I didn't get any of that. What I did get was that everything that happened back in those woods, had to be a HUGE secret. They told me not to tell anyone but they didn't have to. I would have been so ashamed if my mother found out. It felt SO naughty. So dirty. So shameful. I was so embarrassed.
In that same neighborhood, there was one instance in which the perpetrator was a male teenager. I don't remember if he was affiliated with those two girls but he probably was. All I remember is him pulling his pants down, sticking his ass in my face and instructing me to "kiss his ass". I refused and I don't think I did it. That memory is but a flash in my mind though. I don't know if anything else happened with that boy. I don't think it did, but if it did, it is completely blocked out. What isn't blocked out was the stifling humiliation I felt during that moment and the anger I felt at him for humiliating me like that. He was much older and stronger than me though. There was nothing I could do about it.
I posted a more detailed account of the teenage boy incident here: The Importance Of Remembering
Not more than a year after those experiences, my family moved to a different state. In our new neighborhood there was a girl who I'll call "T". T was only a year older than I but was a lot bigger and was something of a bully. She was also extremely knowledgeable about sex. Looking back, I'm almost certain she was being sexually abused by someone. Possibly by her father or older brother although she never divulged anything like that to me.
My first experiences with her were very similar to those with the teenage girls in my old neighborhood. At first, I didn't want her to do the things she did to me and I even kind of hated her for the humiliation she made me feel. That didn't last though. Before long, I would grow to seek out her sexual attention constantly. By the time I was 9 or 10, I was totally obsessed with sex and pornography. T's father had a vast wealth of graphic pornography which she was glad to show me any time we were alone in her house, which was fairly often. At that point, there were also a few other kids involved in all this from time to time. One being T's age. A couple others who were my age and at least one who was a year or so younger than I. T was always the "ringleader" though.
Even after I grew to seek out T's sexual attention, there was always a dynamic of sexual bullying she subject me to. At times, her and one of the other girls would get me to strip naked, do things to get me excited, then would make fun of me for it. They would make fun of my body and call me names and tell me I was ugly. I remember some of those instances ended in me putting on my clothes and running away from her house crying. I hated her for being so mean to me and for humiliating me but every time I came back for more.
Even when everything was "consensual" and there was no sexual bullying taking place, none of it ever felt right. It all took place under this shroud of suffocating secrecy and, for me, with an undercurrent of almost debilitating shame. Like there was a chunk of shame the size and mass of Mt. Everest, all shrunken down and condensed and crammed into my preteen head. This didn't end until I was in my early teens and we moved away again, this time just to the other side of town. T and I gradually lost touch after that. I spoke to her once about 15 years ago when she randomly called me on the phone. The conversation was a pleasant one, but that was the last time we spoke.
Since then, my life has basically been a whirlwind of shit. I can't sit here and blame everything on my childhood but the experiences I had back then did impact me and mold who I am today on the very deepest and most profound level imaginable. I've been through a lot of addiction and have severe sexual and emotional problems that most other adults don't have. Most of that will never go away. I haven't given up any of my addictions necessarily but have learned to corral and compartmentalize them into the life of a functional, fully-employed adult.
The sexual/emotional issues are just a part of who I am now. I have only had sex a few times in my adult life and have had only one serious girlfriend, which lasted about a year. After that, she got sick of my aloofness, my disinterest and my rare willingness to have sex with her. Funny thing is, she was one of the people I told about my childhood BEFOREHAND, and she still wanted me! LOL! I fucking warned her I was damaged goods outright and even used that language. "Believe me, I'm damaged goods. The last thing you want is a relationship with me." Oh well, she learned. We don't speak anymore.
See, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that shit from getting long-winded. Again, I'm not sure why I really wanted to post all this other than to get it off my chest again. I'm not in therapy and I don't really want any "recovery" past what I've already accomplished because I don't believe it's possible. In fact, for me, at this point, I don't even know what would constitute or define "recovery". For one, I don't want any kind of relationship or intimacy with anyone, ever again. That's not me saying "Boo-hoo, I wish I could be with someone who loved me but I can't because of my issues". No, I really just don't want it, or want to want it, or give a shit at all. It's like that part of me is broken completely.
I've considered going back into therapy before but I'm not sure what the point would be. When I have discussed going back into therapy with people I know who are in therapy they've always asked me what my goals would be. Goals? I don't know. What could they possibly be? I honestly have no idea. So, I suppose there is no point. Can't afford therapy anyway. Need that money for beer and stuff. Ha ha!
Anyway, if anyone has read all this crap, thank you. I know it was long and probably not that compelling. That's my long story made short though. As short as possible, anyway. I'll probably stick around and try to contribute if you guys can put up with me. Thanks again for reading. Peace out.