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dustball
Last year

Last year on March 14th, I remembered, for the first time in 31 years, that I was the victim of childhood sexual abuse – from ages 6 to 8.  Yes, a repressed memory.

 

It was an older boy down the street.  His alcoholic father had sexually abused him, so he in turned did it to me.   After it happened enough times, I developed Stockholm Syndrome, whereby I returned voluntarily to my abuser for more abuse.  And therefore felt like I was guilty of causing it.

 

Combine this with an extremely conservative, homophobic religious upbringing, and it was devastating.  I hid the abuse from everyone, including myself.

 

It changed every single aspect of my life from then on.  

 

The whole story is rather long and I’m struggling with processing the entire thing.

 

My life somewhat fell apart after I remembered what happened to me all those years ago.  I’m still picking up pieces. 

 

My entire life came into focus on 3/14/15; and it’s terrible.  

 

I’m at least half-way recovered.  Let’s say 65% recovered.  Writing more about this will help.