musings on abuse

 I'm onto a youtube therapist talking about childhood ACE factors. First one was "types of toxic families" and I ticked off four in one! Now he's talking about sibling abuse.  I never really tallied it up but yes, that too.

My schoolmates and some teachers bullied me physically and emotionally. I used to think I was "lucky" because I'd never been punched or knocked down and kicked at school, but I did get kicked and punched by my siblings. the most memorable is being squished into the corner of a couch by both at once kicking me, it was a fight over couch space and I wasn't allowed any. 

Big brother called me snotnose, all the time. I didn't have a snotty nose. He just wanted me to get the hell away from him and his friends.  My sister was weird, though, she was just really distant, and when we did talk, bragged on about how hard she tried to get people to be nice to me.  I know she was lying, however, because she also stood in the circle of laughing teasing kids when the primary bully was doing their thing.  Bullies took my stuff and played "monkey in the middle" with it, or hid my stuff.  Mostly it was verbal and emotional abuse.  "crybaby" was one of the names called at me all the time. 

Whether it was my siblings or my schoolmates "everybody hates you" was a common phrase, teamed up with questions not meant to be answered like "why do you have to be such a drip." or whatever. People just fucking hated me.

Oh, and there's other abuse I'm finally willing to accept. See, I don't have any actual memory of sexual interference from my Father so accepting it as possible is hard. But when I slot that into the rest of the dynamic, things make more sense. Things like my sister claiming abuse, back when that was not taken seriously.  Because she was such a chronic liar, nobody believed her and the story became gossip. 

But you see, I was sexualized early.  Yes, I also got teased for that.  I mostly tried to hide it, but in grade school I didn't know that it was a thing.  No delicate way to put it, I rubbed my clit on desk corners and bike seats and whatever, and got caught at it once. The kid told me to stop rubbing myself on his desk and I had been pretty subconscious about it, not really thinking, just letting the natural event happen. 

My relationships have involved either extreme interest or absolute disinterest. 

My fantasies.  Or whatever.  The scenarios. At first, they were just random seduction scenes, me as passive receiver. then I read some sadist porn novels my mother had, and my scenes got nasty.  I felt dirty, but nothing less worked for me. Eventually this led to pedophilic scenes in my head.  Let me tell you, that's hard to carry around. It stains my relationships with children just a bit, because I get visions in my head that don't belong there. I respond wrong to rape and child abuse stories.  I carry this shame, and a terror that someone will learn this and I'll be persecuted.  Just for the record, I have not ever visited this disease on another person. No child has been put through this abuse at my agency or awareness.  It's just another cross I carry, but this one I carry silently. this is the only time I've ever "said it to someone else."  just here. But you know, just by how you're feeling reading this, that I cannot share this with anyone. 

I was pouring through family photos one day looking for something.  I don't know what. Might have been a picture of someone when they were young.  Well I came across a picture of me as a very young kid sleeping on my dad. We were sitting up, drowsy both.  Looks like sleeping. His hand dissappears under the blanket about crotch height. My brain suggested it's the perfect pose for fingering me and my sexual awareness exploded.  Now I'm having scenes at night picturing my father seducing me. this got more and more explicit and drawn out. My father was a horny guy. He was kind of obsessed with sexuality. He didn't think twice about violating our bodies and didn't consider it a violation.  Whether they were invading our privacy in the bathroom then teasing us for being shy, or teaching us about our bodies, he was right in there.  Almost touching to point out body parts "and that's your clitoris..." I was a freak about nudity in a family where nudity was mandatory in private.  Not around the house, mind you, but at the pool, or out camping or sailing, if there was privacy and sunshine, off came everyone's clothes, except me. I freaked out and screamed like a banshee and spent the rest of the trip being scolded for it. My mother forcefully removing my clothes. I mean, that's abusive enough, eh?

So I pictured my father using clitoral rubbing through a diaper as a way to "magically" calm a baby and getting  a rep for being "good with babies."  I bet he did.  I would totally bet on it. He's the guy who tried to squeeze my sis's inverted nipples back out for her and didn't get why she was uncomfortable with that. 

Well, a horndog making his daughter horny, who thinks he's a scientist making discoveries, would absolutely graduate to penetration at some point, and full on intercourse eventually. With my sister, probably.  Why not me too?  Well I was a yapper. I had no boundaries (wasn't allowed any besides) and had no discretion.  I guarantee I would have piped up that my daddy does that to me. So when I was grown enough to start yapping, he'd have shunned all further contact with me in that manner. But after two or three or four years of sexual pleasure, this would have been devastating, emotionally. It totally explains my constant sense of rejection and trying harder to please.  My child self would have been "buy why Daddy, what did I do wrong?  I'll try harder!"  

I had such a toxic childhood.  Oh My God.  I can't talk about myself without bringing down the tone, because nothing in my life is untouched.