I cant stop re-living this day.


I cant stop re-living this day.

Serious trigger warning. I need to get this out. I need to tell someone. I've never told a anyone any of this. I can't stop thinking about this day over and over again. This is the day my relationship turned from bad and toxic to scary. Before this day, he had been rough with me, threatened to hurt me, threatened to rape me, went further during sex than I wanted to, told me not to leave things like duct tape around because it triggered him to want to rape me, but never went this far.

But I got mad at him one day. He had been lying about something and I caught him. I cursed at him and threw something off his desk onto the floor, like a cup or something. I was mad, so I turned to walk away.

I heard him get up to grab me, so I started to run up the stairs. But he grabbed me by the ankle, and I fell forward onto the steps. I must have kicked him, because he had a bloody nose, and that only pissed him off more. I got him off me on the stairs, and went to run. I almost made it to the back door, but was too fucking slow. I was always slow and chubby. He grabbed my hair, pulled me back, and grabbed my face. He told me "you have no idea who you're fucking with."

He slapped me and pushed me to the floor of the living room. I tried to get up but he kicked my ribs. I rolled over onto my side to try to protect my ribs, but he kicked my stomach, over. And over. Screaming at me.

I must have rolled over and tried to get away, but he grabbed me back and turned me around so I was on my back again. He got on top of me and punched my face before slamming my head into the floor and choking me. He said something, I don't remember what. I blacked out.

I woke back up and my pants were gone. He was fucking me. I just stared at the ceiling, I did nothing to try to get out of it. I just let it happen. I must have blacked out again because I woke up back downstairs some time later, like most of the day later. He was sleeping on the bed next to me, I quietly got up and found my clothes, they were all gone. I left and ran across the street to a friend's house I had met in the hospital when I attempted suicide a few weeks prior. I told him some of what happened, but left out most of it. The friend told me not to go back, I ignored him. I went back. I don't know why, I didn't need to. We didn't have kids. I had family nearby. I had a job and a car. I was not trapped like other women are. I just didn't want to leave. I thought I loved him

When I went back the next day he said the good news was he wasn't going to lie to me anymore. He said "if you can take a raping like that and still come back, there's nothing I could do to make you leave." And "There's no point in lying any more" He always told me from then on when he was cheating, doing something wrong, etc.

I thought about turning him in. I took some pictures on my phone to maybe show the police. But he found them a few days later when he was going through my phone. He said I must want a reminder of what that felt like. He choked me and fucked me again, I begged him not to. He said he didn't know what he liked more, when I tried to fight him off or when I was lifeless and barely breathing. He put his face so close to mine as his hand tightened on my neck and asked me if this is how I wanted to die, by him choking me. He said he knew it turned me on. He let go and masturbated in my mouth when I was trying to catch my breath. I choked on his cum, it tasted like chlorine. I fucking hate it

So I stayed with him after that and he continued to choke me during sex. He stopped threatening me by holding knives to my throat but with guns to my head and my underwear. He said I released a monster in him, by treating him badly. He said he never wanted to actually rape me before or beat me so badly, but I triggered him when I cursed at him that day, and that ever since the monster inside of him woke up. That now that he's had a taste he can't stop.

Eventually I ran away and tried to go to the police. I was told I had no evidence and that it likely wouldn't go anywhere being a "he said/she said" case. I gave up. He had deleted my pictures. He's probably hurting another girl because I woke up this monster inside him, and I didn't do anything to stop it.

If that girl is here trying to get away from him, I'm so sorry. I think I'm the one that did this to you

Submitted November 18, 2018 at 02:37AM by DoggoFoggo18
via reddit

I cant stop re-living this day.


I cant stop re-living this day.

Serious trigger warning. I need to get this out. I need to tell someone. I've never told a anyone any of this. I can't stop thinking about this day over and over again. This is the day my relationship turned from bad and toxic to scary. Before this day, he had been rough with me, threatened to hurt me, threatened to rape me, went further during sex than I wanted to, told me not to leave things like duct tape around because it triggered him to want to rape me, but never went this far.

But I got mad at him one day. He had been lying about something and I caught him. I cursed at him and threw something off his desk onto the floor, like a cup or something. I was mad, so I turned to walk away.

I heard him get up to grab me, so I started to run up the stairs. But he grabbed me by the ankle, and I fell forward onto the steps. I must have kicked him, because he had a bloody nose, and that only pissed him off more. I got him off me on the stairs, and went to run. I almost made it to the back door, but was too fucking slow. I was always slow and chubby. He grabbed my hair, pulled me back, and grabbed my face. He told me "you have no idea who you're fucking with."

He slapped me and pushed me to the floor of the living room. I tried to get up but he kicked my ribs. I rolled over onto my side to try to protect my ribs, but he kicked my stomach, over. And over. Screaming at me.

I must have rolled over and tried to get away, but he grabbed me back and turned me around so I was on my back again. He got on top of me and punched my face before slamming my head into the floor and choking me. He said something, I don't remember what. I blacked out.

I woke back up and my pants were gone. He was fucking me. I just stared at the ceiling, I did nothing to try to get out of it. I just let it happen. I must have blacked out again because I woke up back downstairs some time later, like most of the day later. He was sleeping on the bed next to me, I quietly got up and found my clothes, they were all gone. I left and ran across the street to a friend's house I had met in the hospital when I attempted suicide a few weeks prior. I told him some of what happened, but left out most of it. The friend told me not to go back, I ignored him. I went back. I don't know why, I didn't need to. We didn't have kids. I had family nearby. I had a job and a car. I was not trapped like other women are. I just didn't want to leave. I thought I loved him

When I went back the next day he said the good news was he wasn't going to lie to me anymore. He said "if you can take a raping like that and still come back, there's nothing I could do to make you leave." And "There's no point in lying any more" He always told me from then on when he was cheating, doing something wrong, etc.

I thought about turning him in. I took some pictures on my phone to maybe show the police. But he found them a few days later when he was going through my phone. He said I must want a reminder of what that felt like. He choked me and fucked me again, I begged him not to. He said he didn't know what he liked more, when I tried to fight him off or when I was lifeless and barely breathing. He put his face so close to mine as his hand tightened on my neck and asked me if this is how I wanted to die, by him choking me. He said he knew it turned me on. He let go and masturbated in my mouth when I was trying to catch my breath. I choked on his cum, it tasted like chlorine. I fucking hate it

So I stayed with him after that and he continued to choke me during sex. He stopped threatening me by holding knives to my throat but with guns to my head and my underwear. He said I released a monster in him, by treating him badly. He said he never wanted to actually rape me before or beat me so badly, but I triggered him when I cursed at him that day, and that ever since the monster inside of him woke up. That now that he's had a taste he can't stop.

Eventually I ran away and tried to go to the police. I was told I had no evidence and that it likely wouldn't go anywhere being a "he said/she said" case. I gave up. He had deleted my pictures. He's probably hurting another girl because I woke up this monster inside him, and I didn't do anything to stop it.

If that girl is here trying to get away from him, I'm so sorry. I think I'm the one that did this to you

Submitted November 18, 2018 at 02:37AM by DoggoFoggo18
via reddit

My seductive/flirtatious mother


My seductive/flirtatious mother

At the age of 37, having never been married and always feeling deeply uncomfortable and ambivalent about my own sexuality, relationships and connections, I'm finally starting to understand that there's a hole in my soul and my understanding where a mother's love should have gone.

I'm not going to type out my full case history here, but I'll highlight a few points I think are the most important. She's never come straight out and said she wants me sexually, but there's been about a million little dots over the years, and if you connect them all, it paints a very clear and disturbing picture. She's not an idiot, though – everything has plausible deniability.

My parents' marriage was dying when I was born, and it was dead when I was in grade school. My father has been stoic, distant and emotionally closed off for as long as I've ever known him, and my mother, desperate to find an emotional connection and have someone to share all of her thoughts, feelings, concerns, frustrations and hopes with, chose me. I looked and talked like my father, and unlike him, I couldn't just leave any time I wanted to. He physically left the house before I was a teenager so I had no buffer against her advances, no one to take me under his wing and help me become a man with a father's guidance.

Just typing out this following part makes me want to puke. My Mom would tell me over and over exactly how much she loved me, in long, poetic, passionate words – that I was her rock, her teacher, her heart, the most wonderful thing that ever happened to her, a miracle, blah blah blah. She'd put her arms around me and gaze into my eyes as though I was her romantic partner, and tell me that there was nothing I could do to make her stop loving me. This never, ever made me feel comfortable, secure or cared for – honestly, it creeped me out so much I wanted to peel off my skin and run away.

Before I was a teenager, she'd tell me (obviously joking, of COURSE, duh) about how she wished she could date me – because we just "got" each other so well, you know? I enlisted in the military to get away from everything (her) and the month before I shipped off to boot camp, she took me on a vacation – just me and her, to a major American city where at one point, we both dressed up nicely for a dinner cruise on the water, the kind of thing a couple would do. It's like she wanted one last romantic trip with me before I became property of the US government. I was 17 years old and I just went along with it because I didn't know anything about relationships or boundaries. I thought I was just going to dinner with my Mom. When I think about it now with the knowledge I possess, it makes me want to chug bleach and vomit.

When I got into my twenties, I was in the military and I had grown up, bulked up and toned out. When Mom would hug me, she'd lean in kiss my neck (YUCK) and if we ran an errand, she'd say things like "I'm so proud to be going out with such a handsome young man with great biceps" (PUKE). At one point, (only JOKING again, I'm sure), she asked me a question about fellatio and even said that if I resembled my father in regards to a part of my anatomy, that I would have nothing to worry about in regards to satisfying a woman. What the hell kind of mother talks to her son that way? If a father said that to his daughter, he'd be chased out of town with baseball bats and pitchforks.

Not long enough ago, I severely limited my contact with her, but even then, when I did see her, she'd still do things that disgusted me. Last Christmas, I found out she wanted to buy me underwear as a present. Let's flip the genders again here – what would you think of a 68 year old man wanting to buy underwear for his 36 year old daughter? You'd want to slap him and ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing. One day, a few months ago, she was drunk and tried to kiss me on the mouth. After that, I told her I wanted no physical contact from her at all, whatsoever, period, from here on out.

Books I've found useful –

Silently Seduced by Kenneth Adams

The Emotional Incest Syndrome by Patricia Love

Any other suggestions are welcome.

Submitted November 18, 2018 at 12:39AM by ao_314
via reddit

My mind’s a huge mess. [TW neglect, abuse, rape, suicide]


My mind’s a huge mess. [TW neglect, abuse, rape, suicide]

I was neglected and abused as a kid/teenager. My emotional needs weren't paid attention to and mom basically called me and my siblings crazy. Dad was very scary, threatening us with violence always. When I started school, I would pick up broken glass from the school yard, hoping to get hurt. When dad left, mom started neglecting me physically too.

I slept on the "floor" of my room. The floor was covered in trash, dirty clothes, dirty dishes and whatever. And there were hundreds of insects around my room. Beetles and their larvae. Sometimes I had no food, sometimes we had no heating in the middle of cold winter (-30c) and I slept next to the dog on the floor to keep myself warm. Mom thinks that's a funny story to tell.

Mom neglected the dog too. She didn't take her out so she pooped and peed on the floor. The floor was covered in newspapers and piss and poo.

I developed Pica, eating disorder-ish, when I was 11 due to my anxiety. When I was 14 I told my mom about it but the told me to never tell a soul, especially a doctor, about it. I still have urges, almost 15 years later. So I'm still not completely healed I guess.

I was suicidal by age 13. I was planning my suicide. I was hoping for my mother to find my dead body hanging from the stairwell. Or that a car would run over me. I was hoping I had the nerve to jump under a car. But I didn't.

Mom covertly sexually abused me too. Told me about her wet dreams, commented my boobs, told me about her cheating on my dad with many men, had very loud and rough sex when I was home to hear it (I cried myself to sleep while listening to it). She helped me play a porn game when I was like 6.

Mom wanted me out of the house so I moved out before I turned 16. She was happy to see me go so she could live with her much younger boyfriend. I started cutting myself regularly.

Then I fell in love with a boy. Eventually he started slapping my face, poking my bruises, coercing me to have sex with him and raping me. Two incidents are so clearly in my mind: 1. I was passing out from being so drunk. He wanted to have sex with me and I told him "no". He still raped me while I laid there because I was so drunk I couldn't move or talk properly. I told him "no" many times and tried to push him off but I was too weak. 2. Another one is that I woke up to him fingering me. And then he penetrated me. I was just frozen in place, scared. I pretended to sleep. After that I started to wear clothes to bed to prevent him from touching me again.

He also didn't care that I was mentally unwell. He didn't suggest that I should get help. He knew I was unwell.

Mom started stealing my money, $7000. I almost lost my credibility and went to the nearby lake early winter to drown myself. Though I had no idea how to really do it so I just swam there with my clothes on, diving into the cold water. Maybe I would have eventually gotten hypothermia there and died but I decided to go back home. My boyfriend didn't care.

I started to get psychotic at 17. I was so scared, paranoid, had delusions and hallucinations. And no-one to help me.

All this hell lasted until I was 22. That's when I finally got help and broke up with my boyfriend and stopped letting my mother control me. I was left with debt and mental scars. I had psychosomatic pains in my vaginal area for over half a year after I stopped seeing my ex.

My problem is that I can't stop thinking about this all. I go to counseling twice a month ( used to be weekly for 2,5 years) to talk with a psych nurse. I can't afford therapy and don't have the mental strength to go there yet because I just started studying and it takes so much strength just to study. My mind's a huge mess. I think about this every day. This all. I can't stop. I'm severely depressed and anxious. I have schizotypal disorder. I'm thinking I might have c-ptsd but it's not a legal diagnosis here yet.

I just don't know what to do. I want therapy but can't go yet. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna manage without it. I just don't have the strength. I just want this pain to stop. I want to be free of these thoughts. I want to tell my ex how much he hurt me but I can't really just go and contact him after ghosting him. I want to tell my mother how much she hurt me but she can't see any fault in herself. She would just blame me for the things she did or didn't do.

I feel like I'm trapped.

Submitted November 17, 2018 at 09:53PM by kilimomo
via reddit

Is this covert or overt sexual abuse?


Is this covert or overt sexual abuse?

I feel as if my whole world is shattered

I had made a post about this particular situation in another subreddit and have decided to come here and hear other opinions

To give a brief summary, I was abused horribly by my parents. Beating, humiliation, manipulation, etc. My dad was more of an enabler as I get along with him better. My mom on the other hand wasn’t so nice

She was always obsessed with my appearance, wanting me to always look pretty and skinny. I was never enough and got a bunch of family verbal abuse from her. If I changed into something new she’d have to look at me to see if what I wore was appropriate or not. She practically dictated my appearance. Another thing she would do is walk around the house naked sometimes, and would cut my vaginal hairs for me when they started to grow. She said she was “teaching” me, but never actually penetrated me or had sex with me, or anything along those lines. I eventually started to shave myself

In general, I feel she was obsessed with my body because she has body issues of her own. I don’t know what to make of any of this

I currently see a therapist

Submitted November 17, 2018 at 08:24PM by Bearcub2
via reddit

Chronic Illness and/or Pain After Sexual Abuse?


Chronic Illness and/or Pain After Sexual Abuse?

Ever since I was sexually abused, I have experienced chronic head pain with absolutely no medical explanation. I have had every test imaginable and tried many medications, but nothing helps. It feels like someone is squeezing down on the top of my head with a lemon presser every day. Additionally, I am now more prone to getting colds and sore throats than I was as a child. Also, my endometriosis is constantly flaring up and causing me all sorts of health and emotional problems. Has anyone else, male or female, experienced similar issues with chronic pain and illness? If so, do you still suffer? How have you managed? Did it go away by attending therapy and coming to terms with the abuse? What's your experience?

Submitted November 17, 2018 at 07:39PM by rocker_chick1997
via reddit

Im only getting worse over time


Im only getting worse over time

It's been 7 years or more since I left my ex. I've since dated around, found a new guy, fallen for him even though I certainly didn't want to at first, and we're now engaged. I love my SO and love the life and family we've built. But I don't know if it's stress from work, commitment issues, being retraumatized when a friend assaulted me a few years ago, or just time… I can't stop reliving my ex.

And I'm reliving it to the point of not being able to tell anymore what is real and what is false memories. I go through long periods of thinking I really started a lot of the arguments, or maybe I was the perpetuator, the emotional abuser and all he did was physical. Then I find some kind of old evidence, like when I was cleaning out my bedroom at my mom's, and found a note he wrote threatening with his blood that I couldn't leave him. Or remembering the physical pain he caused me. Or the sexual things I never wanted to do.

But then I'm back to remembering the times I wished he were dead, or didn't answer his text threats of suicide because deep down I wanted him to die. And how terrible that made me, as a self-proclaimed suicide prevention advocate.

But there's nothing I can do. My SO is going through so much right now, I can't tell him what's happening with me. I can't stress him out more, I genuinely believe that may be the final straw for his own fragile mental health. We have no money for me to seek any professional help anyway. I feel guilty marrying someone under a lie that I'm healthy, and sane, and would be a good wife. That I'm not constantly thinking about my ex and wondering if he's alive or hoping he died when he joined the army. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this charade and keep doing this.

Submitted November 17, 2018 at 12:53PM by DoggoFoggo18
via reddit

Im only getting worse over time


Im only getting worse over time

It's been 7 years or more since I left my ex. I've since dated around, found a new guy, fallen for him even though I certainly didn't want to at first, and we're now engaged. I love my SO and love the life and family we've built. But I don't know if it's stress from work, commitment issues, being retraumatized when a friend assaulted me a few years ago, or just time… I can't stop reliving my ex.

And I'm reliving it to the point of not being able to tell anymore what is real and what is false memories. I go through long periods of thinking I really started a lot of the arguments, or maybe I was the perpetuator, the emotional abuser and all he did was physical. Then I find some kind of old evidence, like when I was cleaning out my bedroom at my mom's, and found a note he wrote threatening with his blood that I couldn't leave him. Or remembering the physical pain he caused me. Or the sexual things I never wanted to do.

But then I'm back to remembering the times I wished he were dead, or didn't answer his text threats of suicide because deep down I wanted him to die. And how terrible that made me, as a self-proclaimed suicide prevention advocate.

But there's nothing I can do. My SO is going through so much right now, I can't tell him what's happening with me. I can't stress him out more, I genuinely believe that may be the final straw for his own fragile mental health. We have no money for me to seek any professional help anyway. I feel guilty marrying someone under a lie that I'm healthy, and sane, and would be a good wife. That I'm not constantly thinking about my ex and wondering if he's alive or hoping he died when he joined the army. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this charade and keep doing this.

Submitted November 17, 2018 at 12:53PM by DoggoFoggo18
via reddit