November 28, 2016

You Were Raped Again?

I never understood if Grace was born disturbed or if she became that way as a product of being molested by our father.  What I did know was that she was obsessed with making me pay for not being molested.

What Grace didn’t know was that I had been molested.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t prove it because my mind was blocking those painful memories.  Although I did remember when she tried to molest me in the bathroom and forced me to fondle her breasts.

The enema's mother gave me were a form of molestation, especially since mother put her finger in my anus before putting in the hot water tube.  Grace never knew about the enemas because she was never home when mother gave them to me and I never told anyone.

Grace didn't know that when I was very little, 5 or 6 years old, I constantly played and rubbed my vagina, sometimes trying to find toys that I could use to make myself feel good.  It was at an age when I should not have known about making my vagina feel good.

She didn't know that each time I tried to make my vagina feel good I would have nightmares of a slimy pink thing growing out of my vagina that looked like a small penis or large finger and I would wake up shaking and scared.

Grace didn't know that one day while she was sleeping, instead of pushing our beagle away when he was sniffing between my legs, I allowed it to lick my panties in my vaginal area for a few seconds before pushing it away because I was overcome with fear and disgust.  I was a very little girl who knew nothing about oral sex, so I learned about the licking from somewhere.

She didn't know that when I was a very little girl father would come to tuck me into bed and caress my face, arms and legs and kiss me on the lips several times while mother watched.

Grace didn't know that for all the years I had to share the sofa bed with mother she would have me sleep on my side so she could rub my back and butt.

Grace didn't know any of these things so in her mind I had never been molested and I had to pay the price.

When I came home one day from school and found Grace curled up on the floor naked in the middle of the living room, I knew something very bad was going to happen.  When I asked her if she was okay she said, "You did this to me you sick bitch."  I had no idea what she was talking about so I sat down on the sofa and waited for Peter to come home.

She wouldn't talk to Peter either when he came home so we both sat on the sofa and waited for mother to come home.  As soon as mother walked through the door Grace became an amazing actress.  She began sobbing, even though I didn't see any actual tears, and began shaking like she was having a seizure.

Mother ran to her and demanded to know what happened.  Grace told mother that I hadn't locked the front door when I went to school that morning and when she came home there was a man in the apartment that raped her.  She said she would never have been raped if I had locked the door. 

Once again, Grace being raped was my fault, except both Peter and I knew that Grace had not been raped.

Peter immediately came to my defense and told mother that he had left with me that morning and he was the one that locked the front door so Grace was lying.  Mother didn't believe him.  She reminded Peter that I had the power to control people with my mind and I was making him lie to protect me.

Because my mind was on torture overload I did the unthinkable and told mother that I hated her.  After she back handed me so hard I literally flew off my feet, she turned to Peter and told him that only a truly evil and vile child would hate their mother.

Mother went to the kitchen and came back with a very long sharp knife and told Peter to take me out of her site or she would kill me.  She told Peter to keep me away from her because she didn't know what she would do to me.

Peter took me to the bedroom he shared with Grace.  Once alone Peter tried to comfort me but nothing he said would help.  

I would spend the next few days going straight to Peter’s bedroom when I got home from school while Grace slept with mother on the sofa bed.  Peter would bring me dinner and keep me company by playing chess, cards and listening to music.

The following weekend mother told me I would be back to sleeping beside her on the sofa bed.  Instead, she put a bed sheet and pillow on the floor and said that's where I would be sleeping.  I slept on the cold floor like an animal for two weeks as punishment.

My increasingly damaged mind began to wonder if maybe I was evil.  Maybe I had somehow caused Grace to be raped.  Maybe mother was right and I could control people and I just couldn't remember doing it.  I had seen horror movies where people had the power to control people with their minds.  Maybe I was one of those evil people.

I was only a tween and my damaged mind couldn't comprehend that Grace was intentionally manipulating our mother to make her more paranoid about me and to hate me more than she obviously already did.

Because I could not comprehend how disturbed Grace was, I instead began to doubt myself.  I began to consider the possibility that I was born evil and that's why God never answered any of my prayers.

I would spend countless nights asking God to forgive me and to please take the evil out of me and to save me.

What I did comprehend was that I had to fear my sister as much, if not more, than my mother.  Whether I was truly evil or not, they both enjoyed hurting me.  They both wanted to punish me for being born.

The effects of constantly being blamed for everything bad that ever happened to my mother and sister would cause me to spend a good deal of my young adulthood convinced that I was either bad luck or evil.

Combined with being told that I was stupid and worthless, I would eventually come to believe that my existence was a stain as I was incapable of bringing anything good into anyone’s life, including my own.

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