Saving People, Hunting Things: The Family Business

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Some random selfies from 2015, in basically chronological order. This would have been much easier if I was asked to post photos of my dog, but hey, have my face instead. I was tagged by @a-deadletter and @crimsonsharp

In grade 8 I got a call from my friend in the middle of the night and she was drunk in the park crying and told me that she went out that night with some other friends and they drank a little and her guy “friend” starting flirting and yes she laughed at first but then he tried to pull her shirt over her head and she pulled away and he ripped her shirt and it was her favourite shirt and then he pushed her to her knees and HIS BEST FRIEND HELD HER JAW OPEN WHILE HE FACE FUCKED HER. And so I went to the park and picked her up and took her home and slept in her bed with her except we didn’t sleep because she just cried and her mouth bled and this was four years ago but I still have to be the one to bring her items to the till it the cashier is a man, and she still has anxiety attacks and she’ll get a rash all over her body and I just want to kill those boys but instead they are still walking around. And I’m in the bathroom with her, dabbing at her skin with a warm cloth until it returns to its regular colour.

And in grade 9 one of my closest friends was kinda seeing this boy and so they hung out one night and then she said that she really had to be getting back home and he said that she wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him what he wanted and he parked the car and took off her clothes and she said no and he ignored her and so she laid in the backseat totally limp and just cried and it wasn’t even sex, he just masterbated by using her body instead of his hand and she came to school the next day with vodka in her water bottle and she drank all day and I had to fight her to get the alcohol away from her and she just cried and threw up and I skipped class while I held her hair back and that same boy texted me a month later, asking if I ever wanted to hangout sometime.

And in that same year my very best friend who has never even kissed a boy, confessed to me that when she was 9 years old, her 12 year old cousin made her give him a hand job and he told her that was what cousins do and he gave her a chocolate bar afterwards and she told me that he probably doesn’t even remember it but that it’s something that she’ll never have the luxury of forgetting.

And in grade 10 I knew a girl who invited her best friend over to watch Disney movies and then he started to put his hands down her pants and she said no but she is 130lbs and he is 220lbs and he called her a tease while she tried to fight him but he used one hand to hold her down, and the other to put inside of her and i was the one to push her inside of a classroom and stand in front of her while calling the police when he showed up at our school looking for her and she was so damn scared.

And a few months later I skipped class and was in the car with a guy who i had had unprotected sex with in the past while under the influence of cocaine but this time I was sober and I insisted we use a condom but he told me he couldn’t feel anything while the condom was on so he ripped it off and I said I refused to have unprotected sex again and so he just grabbed me and forced himself into my mouth and I was crying and he pulled me onto him and I just came saying “stop” over and over like a broken record but he must’ve heard something different because he went until he came and I just sat naked in the backseat while he drove me back to the school and said “we should do this again sometime”. And I had five showers that night and I scratched at my skin so hard to try and rip his fingerprints off of me, I still have the scars.

And I found out soon afterwards that that same guy had raped a classmate of mine, 5 months earlier and she told me about how he brought her McDonald’s first, and how he said they could take things slow and she told me about how he didn’t listen to her either. And he goes to our school and so after she told me about her incident and I told her about mine, we decided to report it to the police and the trial is currently still going on and he told people about it, except in his version we are just “asking for attention” and all his friends talk about how bad they feel for him. As if HE is the one that still wakes up screaming. As if HE felt like his skin no longer was beautiful, no longer belonged to him. And I held her in my arms as she bawled after giving the police her statement. And she did the same for me.

And I met a woman a year ago in a paint store and she had a service dog and I asked what the dog was for and it turns out that she had been so brutally raped and abused in her life, that the dog is literally trained to keep men away from her.

And I’m so FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF THIS WORLD WE ARE LIVING IN. How many rape victims eyes have I already looked into? How many more will I? And how many more friends will I hold while they shake? Because I don’t know how many more I can take. And who the fuck still has the nerve to make rape jokes? And… Something just has to change. Please, someone just start being that change.

Let me tell you a story - my story.

My parents were really young when they had me. I was an accident. I was not planned in the slightest, and my parents were so upset and angry about it that they blamed it on me. They wanted to get an abortion, but not only could they not afford it, but their families were totally against it, and if they were going to be able to keep paying their bills, they needed the support of their families, at least in the beginning until they could pay their own bills. So, naturally, I was the scapegoat for all their anger at their ruined lives. After all, if it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t be in the situation they were in, right? Whatever.

So the abuse and the neglect and the sadism started before I was even born. One question I get all the time? That would be: “Is Zwink your real name?” Yes. Zwink is my fucking real name. My parents picked the wierdest name they could come up with to spite me. Don’t believe me? Think what you want.

Don’t understand how this is relevant to the OP? Keep reading. It gets so much better.

So they eventually got their own place living in a trailer park and had a rushed marriage, instead of living in a nice home and having the lavish marriage they had been planning on.

I was born on Halloween of all days, so I was their little demon baby straight from hell, sent to torture them and keep them from being happy.

*insert more commentary about how their lives were ruined because of me*

I don’t remember everything about being a baby, but I do have a few memories - believe it or not - about being abused as a baby.

Yes. It started that early -

Rape. Sexual assault. Molestation. Incest. Beatings. Verbal abuse. Neglect. You name it, I’ve been through it.

My dad started it all. He started touching me when I was still a baby. Don’t ask me why - I don’t know. I guess he thought it was funny. I guess it made him feel powerful to harm me - it made him feel in control of a life that had been out of his control, per his perspective. I don’t know. All I know is he started it, and he got my mom involved, too.

At first, she would just watch and laugh or help him, if he wanted her to. She never tried to stop any of the abuse, and as time went on, she slowly joined in and found it just as thrilling as my dad did.

My dad had Erectile Dysfunction of some sort, so whenever he really wanted to enjoy sex, he would take Viagra and try to make it all last as long as possible. I think he abused the drug, but I don’t know. I just know that his erections would last for a while, and sometimes he would cum more than once.

The molestation went on for a few years until I was deemed old enough for intercourse, and that’s when things got so much worse for me.

I was already being beaten on a regular basis, when I wasn’t being completely neglected (to the point of rarely ever getting fed, being forced to drink out of a toilet, being forced to always sleep on the floor, and rarely ever getting let out of the house - yes, you read all of that right. I was never sent to school while I was with my parents - they claimed to be homeschooling me, but they weren’t), and I won’t spend much more time divulging the details of all of the abuse I experienced at their hands because there is a focus point to all of this, relative to the OP.

I remember plenty of times when my dad would “make use of” me that my mom would “help” by forcing me into an aroused state because they both found it amusing and pleasing to watch me squirm and be confused and so it would be more enjoyable for them. Sometimes I was even forced to take pills like my dad did to make me aroused and stimulated.

I remember plenty of times when my dad would force himself inside of me - using whichever orifice pleased him most at the time.

Now, my dad is not “small” by any means. He was a big, surly guy, and despite ED, he was “well-endowed.”

I remember one time he forced me to have anal sex with him when he was on Viagra - he never used lube, btw - and he was so animalistic. He bent me over the bed and pushed my face into the mattress to muffle my cries and screams. He choked me into the mattress and fucked me until I was foaming at the mouth and had anal prolapse (if you don’t know what that is, google is your friend, but be warned - it’s disgusting).

I remember all the times my mom made me believe that when she molested me or raped me, it was her way of showing me the affection I was starved for all the rest of the time I was around her or him.

“Are you gonna be good for mommy?” “Are you gonna make mommy proud?” “If you’re good for mommy, you can have dinner tonight.” “If you’re good, mommy won’t tell daddy he needed to punish you.”

The list goes on and on.

I was their little fucktoy.

For almost TEN YEARS, I was their little fucktoy, their little punching bag (physically and non-physically). I was their scapegoat.

TEN YEARS being forced to have intercourse with both of my parents, being forced to cum for both of my parents, being forced to touch both of my parents sexually and make them cum, being forced to give both of them oral sex, being forced to give into their every whim, sexual or not. TEN YEARS.

So now I guess I get to the point - If you don’t think rape is serious and a serious problem and about much more than arousal or sexual desire, then this is your wakeup call. You’re living a lie.

I have severe PTSD from all that I experienced as a child. Sometimes I can’t even let my girlfriend of over a year even so much as hug me or put a hand on my shoulder. I STILL flinch when she goes to touch me. Sometimes I have flashbacks that leave me gasping for air and screaming. Sometimes I have nightmares that do the same thing.

I have multiple SEVERE diagnosed mental illnesses all because of the things I went through as a child, and those would be: Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, PTSD, OCD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, ADD, anger management issues, psychosis, an eating disorder, etc, etc - ALL of which I have actually been diagnosed with. I have a severe self harm problem. I’ve tried to kill myself multiple times. I’ve been hospitalized multiple times. I am FUCKED UP.

And NO ONE would dare tell me that I was “asking for it.” I don’t understand how ANYONE could think ANYONE is “asking for it.” If you think that, then you have some SERIOUS issues.

Please - read this and understand why sexual assault is such a huge problem and a big deal. Please reblog this and share. I know I wrote a lot here and that a lot of people will not read it, but I sincerely hope that you do. I do not normally divulge so much about what I went through, but I read this post, and I just couldn’t leave it without sharing my own story. Please share my story. To all of you out there who have been through similar horrible things - my heart is with you; you are not alone, and it is NOT your fault.

Julie is OP’s very close friend of years and years now who has always remained a constant and good part of OP’s life.

Julie’s death would be devastating for a lot of people.

Please reblog this to help save her life, even if you can’t contribute yourself. And please don’t let your blog aesthetic keep you from reblogging.

Please. We are all begging and desperately trying to help her.

JULIE IS A GREAT FRIEND AND PERSON!

PLEASE, PLEASE HELP!!!

Julie is OP’s very close friend of years and years now who has always remained a constant and good part of OP’s life.

Julie’s death would be devastating for a lot of people.

Please reblog this to help save her life, even if you can’t contribute yourself. And please don’t let your blog aesthetic keep you from reblogging.

Please. We are all begging and desperately trying to help her.

JULIE IS A GREAT FRIEND AND PERSON!

PLEASE, PLEASE HELP!!!

Julie is OP’s very close friend of years and years now who has always remained a constant and good part of OP’s life.

Julie’s death would be devastating for a lot of people.

Please reblog this to help save her life, even if you can’t contribute yourself. And please don’t let your blog aesthetic keep you from reblogging.

Please. We are all begging and desperately trying to help her.

JULIE IS A GREAT FRIEND AND PERSON!

PLEASE, PLEASE HELP!!!

Julie is OP’s very close friend of years and years now who has always remained a constant and good part of OP’s life.

Julie’s death would be devastating for a lot of people.

Please reblog this to help save her life, even if you can’t contribute yourself. And please don’t let your blog aesthetic keep you from reblogging.

Please. We are all begging and desperately trying to help her.

JULIE IS A GREAT FRIEND AND PERSON!

PLEASE, PLEASE HELP!!!