Sad posting time since I'm sleep deprived and feeling!
Tw for: incest, paedophilia, rape, sexual assault, child sexual abuse, and just general vent things I guess.
Sometimes I mourn who I could've been, what could've been, if maybe he'd kept his hands off me. Sometimes I mourn how I felt before it happened, if I can even remember then, if it ever even existed. Sometimes I mourn being clueless as to what happened, not knowing, not remembering. Sometimes I mourn. But I can't mourn a childhood innocence I've never had. Yet I still do. And it always hurts. Hurts just as the flashbacks do. Just as it did when it happened.
I miss a father it turns out I never had. Since the father I miss, is not one who would lay hands on his own toddler that way.
i just wish sometimes, not that it never happened, because trust me I've worn out that wish already, and there's no changing the past, but that I just couldn't remember. That I never begun to put the dots together. To keep that ignorance I once had.
Sometimes I doubt myself, doubt my own regained memories, because there's no way that's right! He was always so nice, I was the favourite, he loved me. But it's hard to argue with the fact I remember him on top of me. The fact I still feel it. The signs I've shown since I can remember. The guilt, the self hatred, the life long suicidal ideation, all of it. It's hard to argue with something that's been there the whole time.
And that just makes me even angrier, even sadder. Because how were my signs ignored? I was always the closest with my teachers through my childhood, even now, and you're telling me they watched my obvious signs and just.. Ignored it? All of them? I can get one or two, because one was unable to see me being sexually harassed in front of him, and the other thought me being bullied was funny, but all of them? They're taught to notice, trained annually to notice, to report, to intervene. But they did nothing. I lived most of my childhood thinking that incest and paedophilia was normal, that it was okay, since thats what he taught me, and the internet I saw backed his words, so I thought not to deny it, to not think about it, because he was the adult, he was my father, he knew more than I could. And no one ever said otherwise. Not my mom (who I guess just, wasnt present mentally at the time I showed her something I made (as a young kid) which would be considered proship material), not my teachers, not my brother (who saw all the pornographic things I wrote and drew and made and just. Laughed it off.) No one. I thought that all love required sex, that you had to be used for your body, no matter the age. I over-sexualized myself to everyone, other kids, adults, I tried to have sex with an adult when I wasn't even 10. Because I thought it was normal. And nobody noticed. Or nobody cared enough to intervene. I used to talk about my dads dick in class with another student, and that teacher never did a thing.
I feel so much rage, not just at my father for doing what he did, for teaching me wrong, for all of that, but for those who were supposed to help, who were taught the signs, but did nothing. To all the adults who witnessed my obvious signs and did nothing, or used it to their advantage.
And my brother used to yell at me for being dads favourite, aint that funny? I bet he wouldn't have been jealous if he knew why I was.
I'm sorry for those who read this. I'm sorry to everyone who has experienced this as well. I'm just, sorry.
