Child Abuse Story From Cat1
by Cat
I am 47 and for some reason over the last two years i have been thinking of my abuse almost daily. My first memory is after aged 10 (that was when we moved into our new house) - i cant remember anything prior to that. I loved, adored and looked up to my father. He was quite strict and the disciplinarian in the family. My mum was soft, adorable, loving and caring. We were a largish family so time with mum alone was precious and appreciated. I was my dad's little helper, went everywhere with him, was proud to do so. I remember him coming into my room (which i shared with 3 siblings) and touching me. it felt odd and i didnt like it but i was scared to say anything, confused and not even sure what to really think. I can recall my older half sister screaming out one night and accusing him of doing stuff. she was rebellious and left home at 16. I remember him coming in most nights. i would try and jam the door as there was no lock but somehow, my eyes would open to find him kneeling besides my bed and touching me. i dont know when the actual intercourse first took place so i have no virginity to be proud of. when friends spoke in later years about their 'special time', i found myself making up my special time because i was ashamed i hate my dad for taking that away from me. He would rub himself against me. i remember the smell, the touch and my stomach would turn. the next thing i remember is the intercourse. he would sometimes take me his bedroom while mum was at work. he would always withdraw before ejaculation. i cannot describe my fear of him yet loving him at the same time. during a normal day he was loving and kind, just my normal dad! at aged 14 a relative came to stay (ended up being two years). he told me one day, i know your dad comes in your room, you must stop it from happening. i was so very ashamed that someone else now knew this. my fear mum would find out, anyone. so i jammed my door even more, would cough loudly if i heard him coming and he would scuttle off. i was in my parents bedroom once chatting with mum and i saw her touch the bed. i knew that she knew something had happened, she knew the smell and the feeling of wetness but nothing was said. one day whilst eating dinner i felt sick. this continued daily. i couldnt eat anything and got thinner. mum asked what was wrong but, naively, i didnt know. she called me in her room one day and asked when was my last monthly, only then the penny dropped. they took me to the doctor who confirmed my pregnancy. i was constantly asked who was the father and i kept the secret. when i was accused of sleeping around i cried and admitted, in front of my parents, that it was my father. Oh God he cried, why would you say a thing like that, you are bad. my mum shouted, everyone screamed and my dad picked up a bottle and said he would hit me if i continued to lie. i said hit me then, you know you did it. i would hear my mother and older sister talk about me and how bad i was to keep this secret, they said my dad was bad also but the fact they put me in that category crucified me. i was taken by my parents for a termination and they both showed me love, attention and kindness. it happened again only twice. the first time at age 16 in my confused state i found myself enjoying the feeling and almost willingly participating. i can only explain this by being a teenager going through normal hormones and being sexually confused. i had never had a boyfriend and wanted one. i blackmailed him once and got a jumper for keeping quiet but after that i felt bad and it never happened again. as an adult i slept with a lot of men, enjoying the rough sex but so very much wanting love. i wish i had the guts to report my father as i since found out he did this with my younger sister way after me. i cannot even talk to her about it but i do want to. i hate and love my mum for staying with my father and not protecting me, believing me and understanding me. the 'episodes' seem to have been erased from everyone's memory, except mine. i want to talk to tell people but the shame would kill me. i want to punish my Dad and i hate the fact i love him too. i know im a sufferer even now. i know the way i conduct and think about relationships is muddled. i have two beautiful grown children who are safe, cared for loved and adore their grandfather though i never left them in his care. how can i shatter their illusion. who can i talk to so i can finally get over this and move on and be happy  Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.I hope you'll follow me on:  Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.
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