Child Abuse Story From John Doe
by John Doe
I am a 22 year old man facing the lost memories of sexual abuse at the hands of my mother. In recent years, as I grew into a more mature adult, I realized that there were huge gaps in my childhood. It was by no means pretty. My parents divorced when I was still a young child, and I have no memories of them being together. My mother slandered my father and grandfather, a conclusion both my sister and I have come to, in order to gain custody over us. It was around that time that my sister was being sexually abused by neighbors, under the "watchful" supervision. If my mother knew or not, I doubt anybody will ever truly know. My earliest memory of any physical abuse at the hands is quite possibly the worst, which is her drunkenly burning me with a cigarette. She then cried, and begged me not to tell my father. I never did. Not too long after that, she left the abusive relationship she was in, and got engaged to my step father, who despite being an a**hole, was never abusive. Upon moving in with him is where my first "discovered" memory appeared. I had my own room, which was new to me. On numerous occasions I would wake up naked and in odd positions on my bed. I still don't remember anything from the evening before (which may be a blessing, or a curse. I know that the thoughts of "maybe you were just hot, or you just move in your sleep" might be swirling around, but there is more. After moving from this house, where I had my own bedroom to a new house where I shared a room with my step brother, the odd positions and nudity had ceased. This house lacked air conditioning, and despite the sometimes unbearably hot conditions, my clothes remained on. My mother would also, on numerous occasions call me into her bedroom after my stepfather left for business trips to lay with her. I was always terrified, as my mother had become physically abusive, and I even went as far as to think "I'm going to get molested". There again are gaps in my memory, and this is where I fear the worst, as I was awake and concious during these terribly uncomfortable night time visits, but I do not remember much aside from the feeling of terror and discomfort. All visual memory has been blocked out. Today, I have nightmares of being molested by my mother, not frequently, thankfully. I tend to dream more about zombies than anything, and sometimes I dream of my loved ones. I doubt I will ever be able to tell anybody about these abuses, and for me, that is okay. I have experienced many ways of coping with the pain of abuse. My sister, who's childhood was far worse than mine, is lucky to be alive, as she made herself her own worst enemy. I've always been open about my abuse, but my sexual abuse has, for the period of time that I have recovered the memories of it, been a little secret. I share it here, today, so that any other men or women facing the same frightening realizations as I am can gain a better understanding, and remember that it is not your fault. I am not a victim, I am a survivor, something every victim should work towards becoming. A last note is to always remember that the brain is amazingly powerful, and can make years disappear if it so pleases.  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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