A
anonomiss
Guest
*trigger warning*
**Trigger Warning**
***TRIGGER WARNING***
Btw this is REALLY REALLY Ridiculously long.
...7 years ago today, exactly 3 hours ago from when i start writing this post, I lost my virginity. It was to my then best friend and his family through a violent Gang rape. I was in third grade, My hair was long, my eyes were bright blue, my lips still knew the easiness of a smile, I was 9. Alot has changed since then.
But im getting ahead of myself, i'll restart from the beggining. I was born in Australia late July in the year 1993 to two Christian parents. One Australian, One American. They had both served as missionary's on mission ships. My family was excited when they became pregnant. That is, untill I was born and It was found out im a female. They were not so pleased then. But they still had their chances at a male heir to the family name so they... Tolerated me.
My little sister was born 4 years later. I can remember being sent off to my aunts to stay while my mom was in hospital. She is a cruel woman to me, when i was small she was physically abusive, Im too big now, so she settles for actions and scornful words.
My family were delighted with the new addition to the family. But they still hated me. So I remained the forgotten child for a while, Living in my baby sisters shadow. That was, untill, my parents started to blame me for everything, Im not overexaggerating here, literally every little thing was my fault. The Washing Machine broke? my fault, the powers out? my fault, the broadcasting on the telivisions late? my fault, ect. ect. And I was punished accordingly, my father is physically abusive, my mother is emotionally and verbally abusive.
I entered Primary School, the days of counting to 10, thinking that the word 'socks' had a double 's' in it, and crayola crayons. Those are the moments when children are as innocent as lambs and the newly fallen snow.
Unfourtunatly for me that was all about to change in just two years. I have a horrible last name, why my family wanted me so badly to be male and carry it on i will never know. But it remains a curse to have the last name Cox.
Children are never as innocent as anyone else views them as. We'd been making dirty jokes since we could spell. And speaking of spelling, with an alternate spelling of my last name you have yourself a very dirty word.
And oh how my peers loved it, I can hear their jeers and jests even now. And the pictures they drew still scar my brain. But worst of all my friends left me, i was excluded, i was a nothing. And as such i became the one to pick on, i was spat on, teased, bullied and bashed. Not much has changed since.
This was all still in early grade 2, i was 7 years old. The bigger kids used to see my classmates bashing me. Slapping me, pinching me, Leading me around by pulling my long hair till I cried. They decided to educate them, 'that is not the proper way to hurt someone' they said 'to do that you use feet and fists and sticks and stones.'
I would come home with bruises everynight, But my dad mistook them for his own beating marks, he never knew i got bashed at school too.
One particular day A big kid who had not been there the first time came up to my group. No!, i thought, not more ways to hurt me, the pain is already enough! The big Kid came up to my group, shooed my peers and helped me up. He introduced himself, for the purposes of this story i shall name him Bob, he asked me if he was ok, and he invited me to play with him. I was amazed.
I'd never been treated so kind by anyone before, we quickly became the best of friends. And though our talks and plays together we learnt that we lived close to one another. In fact he walked home with me one day, we shared the same court.
We became even better friends then. I was forever at his house or he was at mine. His family became my family, the family i loved and wanted, and who loved and wanted me.
7 years ago today, 3 days before Halloween, I was invited to sleepover. I thought nothing of it, they were my family, I spent half my life there anyway. And as if my parents would care more than to say a yeah whatever. I guess they figured that i was right nearby, practically neigbours, what could go wrong?
Alot! I will not detail the night except by saying that basically every perversion your mind can think of, I was subject to.
In hindsight, now, I can look back and see it was leading up to that night for a long time. Bob had 2 brothers and 1 sister, and when I was at their house they'd began making crude jokes about me, calling me things a 9 year old should not be called, and 'accidentally' touching me in places that were my own.
But Bob was big and strong and my protector, I'd cuddle up to his chest inside his big strong arms when my peers would chase me, theyd take one look at Bob and his friends then theyd run. I would be safe.
So i figured it would be okay at Bob's house that night. It felt like even if the world were to come crashing down around me, I'd be safe if i were with Bob.
...Thats 9year olds for you.
Bob and his family gangraped me that night. My torture lasted for hours. When they'd finally run out of perverted things to do and theyd taken their photographs and made their threats they untied me and let me loose. They locked me in a room with my clothes untill i had recovered enough to redress and try my tears, then I ran home. I can't remember how late i got there only that it was dark. I told my parents that Bob had gotten sick and his mom told me to go home and theyd rescedule, I shouldnt have wasted my lying and acting skills, my parents didn't particularlly care, they just walked me to my room and closed the door. Barely a 'GoodNight' uttered.
I cried that night, I cried for hours, I cried at the pain between my thighs, I cried at the sancutary I'd lost, I cried and cried and cried, I wished it was only a dream, Now I wish it never was a dream.
I faked sick the next day, I think my parents believed me because i was so lethargic. I hadnt slept at all i'd been crying so long, and I didn't want to go back to school anyway. I didnt want to face my classmates without protection, I didnt want to face my protection.
I didnt sleep the next night either, but my parents forced me to go to school. I went to class, got teased and called names, and came home again, I didn't see Bob anywhere.
I didnt sleep again the next night, I was so tired the next day at school, the kids pulled me round and hurt me, and i barely even noticed, except for wishing Bob was there. I hated him but i still loved him, I was so confused.
That night, exauhsted, i fell into uneasy sleep, I woke up in a fit of screams and yells from my nightmares. I got told to shut up, sleep with the light turned on if i had to and go back to sleep. I couldn't.
The next day was Halloween, the kids at school were too excited about trick or treats and candy to take much notice of me.
I wandered the school yards alone, looking for places to hide, I found one.
That night who should knock on my door but Bob? his smile was sneer and ugly now, far from the loving lips that once told me i was beautiful and precious. My parents sent him away 'we dont believe in halloween' they said. And I guess i should credit them for doing at least one thing right.
The next day Bob was there at my classroom door, he grabbed my tiny wrist and paraded me around the school, his friends exchanged knowing glances. Bob kissed my sloppily on the cheek. His strong arms still wrapped around my weak ones.
The thing that had once made him my protector was now my enemy.
He continued to meet me at my class everyday each time he'd grab my wrist in his hand and we'd walk somewhere new.
He told his friends that he'd raped me, and they began to sexually abuse me too.
One day Bob stopped showing up, i guess he got expelled or something, but i never found out.
My peers were now free to do with me as they wanted. though they had to battle Bob's friends for possesion.
Not if i could help it. Every time the bell rang Id run to my hiding place. I'd cry there, play there and pray there.
This worked untill the end of the year.
We came back at the start of grade four, My hiding place, a big willow tree, had been cut down. A fitness track placed over it. I was devestated. The battle continued between my classmates and Bob's old friends over who would abuse me. Eventually they joined forces.
I began to live my life inside my head. I wouldn't show emotion, and I wouldn't talk back. Infact during that time i only ever spoke when I was asked a direct question by an adult.
I made a plan to murder Bob and his family. I stole the knife and got to the point where i was standing infront of his new house(he'd moved away since then) before i realised i couldn't decide whether or not i wanted to be caught and sent to jail. So i dropped the knife on their doorstep and went back home.
Soon after I realised how wrong it was of me to even think of murdering somene I came to know Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Saviour.
Grade 5 i got my oppurtunity to start again. My parents enrolled me in a new school, a Christian school. I was able to start again.
Except that I wasn't.
I couldn't relate to people, I couldn't trust anyone, I'd grown so used to being a loner and living inside my head I no longer knew how to make friends. I was dubbed a weirdo and exiled to the library.
During grade 5 i found my faviourite ever book, Lord of the Rings, and to substitute for lack of friends I learnt elvish. I could speak, write, and read it fluently at one point. Fantasy and fiction became my substitute for friends.
That was untill I made a friend. For the purpose of this post I'll name her Bettie. Bettie was a popular, and she befriended me. We became close, or so i thought. and once during a Truth or Dare game she pressured me into telling her my deepest darkest secret. I stupidly gave in.
long story short she told. I was devastated. She told another boy in our grade my secret. And they blackmailed me with it. They also began to abuse me both sexually and otherwise.
In year 7, my first year of high school, my school opened a new campus. I enroled, my parents let me because of the discount, I wanted to so i could get away from Bettie. My plan worked perfectly...
...untill she followed me.
But finally circumstance decided to lean in my favour. Bettie lost most of my friends during the shift of campuses. So i was free to make my own friends. Especially since she had no social standing and no male co-partner to blackmail me with.
Except I still couldn't make friends. And this campus had no library. Again i was an outcast, a loner, and a nobody. But at least i was left alone.
When i did make a friend, Bettie managed to frame her for something she didn't do and so get my Friend expelled.
I became emo, suicidal and depressed. Over the years i have tried 5 times to end my life. and obviouslly failed at that too.
But still Emo gave me something to live up to. and for once i could live up to others expectaions, in a way it was nice.
My family from america called, My Nanna's cancer had come back after the doctors had declared her cured, she had a month to live. My family made it there with just enough time that my Nanna died in my arms(my american family love me)
I plunged deeper into the ever darkening cycle of self harm, depression and suicide attempts.
I took up alchohol when i could steal it, and prescription drugs when i could not. Drinking untill I passed out would mean a dreamless and memoryless night. As would an overdose of 30+ drugs. Im semi recovered from both these addictions now. Though I still self mutilate.
Now during this dark time in my life i was succsesfully acting as happy as could be. Everyone thought my life was all sunshine and rainbows. I even managed to make friends with the boys in my class. I was begining to reclaim my childhood.
Untill Bettie told my secret again. To a Teacher. In Australia its law that if a teacher learns of stuff like this, then they must tell a cousellor, who must tell the parents, who must tell the police.
Fortunatly I had only told Bettie I was raped, I never went into detail.
My parents got so made at me they beat me near to death, I should have told them, they said, why couldnt i trust them?
After church one sunday my parents took me to the police station, i was seperated from them and I was interrogated. the way they treated me made me feel like I was the criminal. I was asked crude questions, threatened and 'felt up' by the police. I told them nothing. They let me go. I hate police.
through my church i found a new friend, He is my closest friend. And i have a bond with him unlike anyother . the closest way i can explain is he is the Jonathon to my David. and he has helped me greatly in the past. But he is now In a relationship and rarely has time for me.
Im still emo, earlier this night i freaked out in a flashback and cut my wrists thinking i was cutting the bonds that once held me by them. I have recently been Diagnosed with BPD. and have severe insomnia. 3 nights in a row is far from being the big deal it was when I was 9. Its now the norm.
Flashbacks and NightTerrors are a huge problem for me and i have not yet found a way to stop them.
My dad still beats me. Im still blamed for everything. Im the blacksheep of my family. The only reason i stay in my home instead of running away is my sister. My parents are on the verge of divorce and if they did then my mom would move back to america. My sister would either lose everything she has. or live with an abusive father. At the moment he only beats me and I'll take it for her.
Thankyou for reading.
Anonomiss
**Trigger Warning**
***TRIGGER WARNING***
Btw this is REALLY REALLY Ridiculously long.
...7 years ago today, exactly 3 hours ago from when i start writing this post, I lost my virginity. It was to my then best friend and his family through a violent Gang rape. I was in third grade, My hair was long, my eyes were bright blue, my lips still knew the easiness of a smile, I was 9. Alot has changed since then.
But im getting ahead of myself, i'll restart from the beggining. I was born in Australia late July in the year 1993 to two Christian parents. One Australian, One American. They had both served as missionary's on mission ships. My family was excited when they became pregnant. That is, untill I was born and It was found out im a female. They were not so pleased then. But they still had their chances at a male heir to the family name so they... Tolerated me.
My little sister was born 4 years later. I can remember being sent off to my aunts to stay while my mom was in hospital. She is a cruel woman to me, when i was small she was physically abusive, Im too big now, so she settles for actions and scornful words.
My family were delighted with the new addition to the family. But they still hated me. So I remained the forgotten child for a while, Living in my baby sisters shadow. That was, untill, my parents started to blame me for everything, Im not overexaggerating here, literally every little thing was my fault. The Washing Machine broke? my fault, the powers out? my fault, the broadcasting on the telivisions late? my fault, ect. ect. And I was punished accordingly, my father is physically abusive, my mother is emotionally and verbally abusive.
I entered Primary School, the days of counting to 10, thinking that the word 'socks' had a double 's' in it, and crayola crayons. Those are the moments when children are as innocent as lambs and the newly fallen snow.
Unfourtunatly for me that was all about to change in just two years. I have a horrible last name, why my family wanted me so badly to be male and carry it on i will never know. But it remains a curse to have the last name Cox.
Children are never as innocent as anyone else views them as. We'd been making dirty jokes since we could spell. And speaking of spelling, with an alternate spelling of my last name you have yourself a very dirty word.
And oh how my peers loved it, I can hear their jeers and jests even now. And the pictures they drew still scar my brain. But worst of all my friends left me, i was excluded, i was a nothing. And as such i became the one to pick on, i was spat on, teased, bullied and bashed. Not much has changed since.
This was all still in early grade 2, i was 7 years old. The bigger kids used to see my classmates bashing me. Slapping me, pinching me, Leading me around by pulling my long hair till I cried. They decided to educate them, 'that is not the proper way to hurt someone' they said 'to do that you use feet and fists and sticks and stones.'
I would come home with bruises everynight, But my dad mistook them for his own beating marks, he never knew i got bashed at school too.
One particular day A big kid who had not been there the first time came up to my group. No!, i thought, not more ways to hurt me, the pain is already enough! The big Kid came up to my group, shooed my peers and helped me up. He introduced himself, for the purposes of this story i shall name him Bob, he asked me if he was ok, and he invited me to play with him. I was amazed.
I'd never been treated so kind by anyone before, we quickly became the best of friends. And though our talks and plays together we learnt that we lived close to one another. In fact he walked home with me one day, we shared the same court.
We became even better friends then. I was forever at his house or he was at mine. His family became my family, the family i loved and wanted, and who loved and wanted me.
7 years ago today, 3 days before Halloween, I was invited to sleepover. I thought nothing of it, they were my family, I spent half my life there anyway. And as if my parents would care more than to say a yeah whatever. I guess they figured that i was right nearby, practically neigbours, what could go wrong?
Alot! I will not detail the night except by saying that basically every perversion your mind can think of, I was subject to.
In hindsight, now, I can look back and see it was leading up to that night for a long time. Bob had 2 brothers and 1 sister, and when I was at their house they'd began making crude jokes about me, calling me things a 9 year old should not be called, and 'accidentally' touching me in places that were my own.
But Bob was big and strong and my protector, I'd cuddle up to his chest inside his big strong arms when my peers would chase me, theyd take one look at Bob and his friends then theyd run. I would be safe.
So i figured it would be okay at Bob's house that night. It felt like even if the world were to come crashing down around me, I'd be safe if i were with Bob.
...Thats 9year olds for you.
Bob and his family gangraped me that night. My torture lasted for hours. When they'd finally run out of perverted things to do and theyd taken their photographs and made their threats they untied me and let me loose. They locked me in a room with my clothes untill i had recovered enough to redress and try my tears, then I ran home. I can't remember how late i got there only that it was dark. I told my parents that Bob had gotten sick and his mom told me to go home and theyd rescedule, I shouldnt have wasted my lying and acting skills, my parents didn't particularlly care, they just walked me to my room and closed the door. Barely a 'GoodNight' uttered.
I cried that night, I cried for hours, I cried at the pain between my thighs, I cried at the sancutary I'd lost, I cried and cried and cried, I wished it was only a dream, Now I wish it never was a dream.
I faked sick the next day, I think my parents believed me because i was so lethargic. I hadnt slept at all i'd been crying so long, and I didn't want to go back to school anyway. I didnt want to face my classmates without protection, I didnt want to face my protection.
I didnt sleep the next night either, but my parents forced me to go to school. I went to class, got teased and called names, and came home again, I didn't see Bob anywhere.
I didnt sleep again the next night, I was so tired the next day at school, the kids pulled me round and hurt me, and i barely even noticed, except for wishing Bob was there. I hated him but i still loved him, I was so confused.
That night, exauhsted, i fell into uneasy sleep, I woke up in a fit of screams and yells from my nightmares. I got told to shut up, sleep with the light turned on if i had to and go back to sleep. I couldn't.
The next day was Halloween, the kids at school were too excited about trick or treats and candy to take much notice of me.
I wandered the school yards alone, looking for places to hide, I found one.
That night who should knock on my door but Bob? his smile was sneer and ugly now, far from the loving lips that once told me i was beautiful and precious. My parents sent him away 'we dont believe in halloween' they said. And I guess i should credit them for doing at least one thing right.
The next day Bob was there at my classroom door, he grabbed my tiny wrist and paraded me around the school, his friends exchanged knowing glances. Bob kissed my sloppily on the cheek. His strong arms still wrapped around my weak ones.
The thing that had once made him my protector was now my enemy.
He continued to meet me at my class everyday each time he'd grab my wrist in his hand and we'd walk somewhere new.
He told his friends that he'd raped me, and they began to sexually abuse me too.
One day Bob stopped showing up, i guess he got expelled or something, but i never found out.
My peers were now free to do with me as they wanted. though they had to battle Bob's friends for possesion.
Not if i could help it. Every time the bell rang Id run to my hiding place. I'd cry there, play there and pray there.
This worked untill the end of the year.
We came back at the start of grade four, My hiding place, a big willow tree, had been cut down. A fitness track placed over it. I was devestated. The battle continued between my classmates and Bob's old friends over who would abuse me. Eventually they joined forces.
I began to live my life inside my head. I wouldn't show emotion, and I wouldn't talk back. Infact during that time i only ever spoke when I was asked a direct question by an adult.
I made a plan to murder Bob and his family. I stole the knife and got to the point where i was standing infront of his new house(he'd moved away since then) before i realised i couldn't decide whether or not i wanted to be caught and sent to jail. So i dropped the knife on their doorstep and went back home.
Soon after I realised how wrong it was of me to even think of murdering somene I came to know Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Saviour.
Grade 5 i got my oppurtunity to start again. My parents enrolled me in a new school, a Christian school. I was able to start again.
Except that I wasn't.
I couldn't relate to people, I couldn't trust anyone, I'd grown so used to being a loner and living inside my head I no longer knew how to make friends. I was dubbed a weirdo and exiled to the library.
During grade 5 i found my faviourite ever book, Lord of the Rings, and to substitute for lack of friends I learnt elvish. I could speak, write, and read it fluently at one point. Fantasy and fiction became my substitute for friends.
That was untill I made a friend. For the purpose of this post I'll name her Bettie. Bettie was a popular, and she befriended me. We became close, or so i thought. and once during a Truth or Dare game she pressured me into telling her my deepest darkest secret. I stupidly gave in.
long story short she told. I was devastated. She told another boy in our grade my secret. And they blackmailed me with it. They also began to abuse me both sexually and otherwise.
In year 7, my first year of high school, my school opened a new campus. I enroled, my parents let me because of the discount, I wanted to so i could get away from Bettie. My plan worked perfectly...
...untill she followed me.
But finally circumstance decided to lean in my favour. Bettie lost most of my friends during the shift of campuses. So i was free to make my own friends. Especially since she had no social standing and no male co-partner to blackmail me with.
Except I still couldn't make friends. And this campus had no library. Again i was an outcast, a loner, and a nobody. But at least i was left alone.
When i did make a friend, Bettie managed to frame her for something she didn't do and so get my Friend expelled.
I became emo, suicidal and depressed. Over the years i have tried 5 times to end my life. and obviouslly failed at that too.
But still Emo gave me something to live up to. and for once i could live up to others expectaions, in a way it was nice.
My family from america called, My Nanna's cancer had come back after the doctors had declared her cured, she had a month to live. My family made it there with just enough time that my Nanna died in my arms(my american family love me)
I plunged deeper into the ever darkening cycle of self harm, depression and suicide attempts.
I took up alchohol when i could steal it, and prescription drugs when i could not. Drinking untill I passed out would mean a dreamless and memoryless night. As would an overdose of 30+ drugs. Im semi recovered from both these addictions now. Though I still self mutilate.
Now during this dark time in my life i was succsesfully acting as happy as could be. Everyone thought my life was all sunshine and rainbows. I even managed to make friends with the boys in my class. I was begining to reclaim my childhood.
Untill Bettie told my secret again. To a Teacher. In Australia its law that if a teacher learns of stuff like this, then they must tell a cousellor, who must tell the parents, who must tell the police.
Fortunatly I had only told Bettie I was raped, I never went into detail.
My parents got so made at me they beat me near to death, I should have told them, they said, why couldnt i trust them?
After church one sunday my parents took me to the police station, i was seperated from them and I was interrogated. the way they treated me made me feel like I was the criminal. I was asked crude questions, threatened and 'felt up' by the police. I told them nothing. They let me go. I hate police.
through my church i found a new friend, He is my closest friend. And i have a bond with him unlike anyother . the closest way i can explain is he is the Jonathon to my David. and he has helped me greatly in the past. But he is now In a relationship and rarely has time for me.
Im still emo, earlier this night i freaked out in a flashback and cut my wrists thinking i was cutting the bonds that once held me by them. I have recently been Diagnosed with BPD. and have severe insomnia. 3 nights in a row is far from being the big deal it was when I was 9. Its now the norm.
Flashbacks and NightTerrors are a huge problem for me and i have not yet found a way to stop them.
My dad still beats me. Im still blamed for everything. Im the blacksheep of my family. The only reason i stay in my home instead of running away is my sister. My parents are on the verge of divorce and if they did then my mom would move back to america. My sister would either lose everything she has. or live with an abusive father. At the moment he only beats me and I'll take it for her.
Thankyou for reading.
Anonomiss
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