#MeToo A Life After Molestation & Rape And Dealing With PTSD
“Me too… If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘Me too’ as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem
What I am about to share with you is not for the faint at heart, not for someone looking for a giggle today or a cute curated photo. My post today is to share something so personal to me it feels like I’m running around a room naked.
#MeToo A Life After Molestation & Rape And Dealing With PTSD.I could remember dreading the walk home after school with my little sister, 4 years younger than I am. I was 8 going into my 9th year of life as she was 4 going on 5. My mom worked a full time job to provide for us and my Dad…. well he was physically present but that is all I can say about that. Because my mom worked full time, after school we would go to the babysitters, who my mom called a close friend and out of respect, we called her Aunty. She lived 2 floors down from our apartment. My sister and I would ride the elevator to the 7th floor, the 7th floor of doom I called it. After a long day of school we would often be tired so essentially until my mom came to pick us up or called for us to come home we would take a nap. We slept on the floor on one of those plastic carpet runners with no pillow or blankets to cover us if we were cold.
Aunty had a son that was a few years older than I was, he didn’t say much to us because being that he was older and a boy we were not cool enough for him. I could remember lying on the ground just about to drift off and seeing his feet walk past me on the way to his room. A room we were never allowed in, a room where we could hear the sounds of super Mario and duck hunt playing on a daily basis. The one day that I was allowed to go into his room was the day my life changed forever. Over the next few years, he took turns molesting myself along with my little sister which was unknown to me. I didn’t know what to do, over and over again as he took my innocence from me. I felt guilty, ashamed, scared and dirty. From the tender age of 8, I would spend what seemed like hours scrubbing my body to get the smell and touch of him off of me. I thought I was free when one day Aunty walked into his bedroom while he was desensitizing me. I thought that he would finally get in trouble for making me do things to him that were wrong.
But I was wrong, I will never forget the humiliation I felt when she pulled my pants down to check my underwear which at the time I had no idea what she was checking for. As time went by I became numb and in order to function as a child should, I taught myself how to suppress the thoughts that haunt me to this day. My teen years were not any different when I was raped by someone I knew going to school, another humiliating experience because this time I was made fun of for it. The years following that went downhill from there. I have had a rough life, to say the least. I was recently diagnosed with PTSD from the childhood trauma that occurred which at the age of 36 still affects the way I function day to day. When I see in the news the scandal of the misfortune many women like myself have had to endure it brings the emotions flooding in more than I care to admit.
I have to battle every day to get by, sexual assault doesn’t have a specific description so you will never know whose experienced it until they speak up. Many times we walk down the street beside people that have gone through or are going through it. Have I healed? No, have I forgiven? Yes, I have, not because I wanted to but because I had to in order to work on getting better. I debated whether I would share this post or not because the all of the details of my trauma was just too much to relive and share on the internet. A lot of what happened I still haven’t discussed. Because I have conditioned myself to forget about it. I experience triggers from smells, physical touch and words that bring me back to my dreaded childhood. If it wasn’t for me seeking help from my church family my healing process would most definitely be a lot harder to go through alone
For the women out there that haven’t said anything, I was once in your shoes and it was the hardest road I have ever had to walk because I was alone. Don’t continue to self-sabotage yourself in fear. It’s never too late to speak up and get help.