I received the story below just over a week ago. It landed in my Inbox and I was instantly filled with excitement. Sharing Your Story has become a powerful part of this website and one that people from all over the world are getting involved with. These stories are forwarded on to friends and families everywhere – which is precisely the point!
When I read this particular story, my eyes filled with tears and my heart was wide open. I was in complete awe of this woman who has been through hell and back. What POWER she is showing us, what GROWTH she has achieved, what UNDERSTANDING she gives. She is an incredible mentor and I cannot thank her enough for the wonderful gift she has given to us all, just by finding the courage to type out her story for us to read.
And now, the powerful story…
“The room is spinning. I feel sick. I try to raise my hand. The teacher sees me. My eyes close. My classmate carries me to the nurse’s office. lay down. The nurse asks me something. I vomit in the little bathroom. It’s blue. Looks like a thousand little blue pills in the toilet. Damn. It wasn’t enough pills…
In bed the night before is when I decided. I knew the next day would be the day I killed myself. I would take as many pills as I could and go to school. No one would be home in the morning so I would have complete quiet. That’s all I wanted – complete quiet.
There wasn’t one reason; there were a thousand reasons. My parents didn’t like each other and the tension was terrible. I wasn’t sure they liked me and I didn’t like them. My grades were crap because I liked pot more than I liked school. My body was a woman’s and my brain hadn’t caught up. My uncle was a child molester and I had the unfortunate experience of being his target. I could go on forever.
In the weeks following, the attempt to take my life faded. No one asked if I had taken anything. No one would have guessed I had done this to myself. I hid that inside just like I had with other things I was embarrassed about.
I struggled with wanting to end my life for a few more years. I held in sadness and shame because of past abuse from my uncle. During my teenage years, I was coming to grips with my own sexuality and was so confused. I couldn’t separate abuse from my OWN experience. My first experiences were not loving or special. I believed my uncle had taken those “firsts” from me, so each new experience was something I just wanted to “get it over with” so I could move on.
Those years were sad and confusing for me. Now, as a 37 year old woman, I have realized the abuse was not my sexuality. It was not my sexual experience. And, as a child trusting her uncle, this abuse was not my fault.
Young men and woman need to know that sexual abuse is not a few isolated incidents. 1 in 4 girls are assaulted and 1 in 6 boys are assaulted before the age of 17. (http://www.cdc.gov/nccdphp/ace/prevalence.htm – ACE Study – Prevalence – Adverse Childhood Experiences) There are many others out there who have experienced abuse and there is help. There are national and local resources online.
I waited a LONG TIME to heal myself. I missed a lot of loving relationships, a naturally progressing sex life and confidence in myself. You don’t need to wait. If you are being abused in any way – get help NOW. If you have been abused in any way, even if it was one time, seek out support from others. The sooner you take care of yourself, the sooner you heal.”
A story from an ongoing series of story-sharing and expression. To submit your story or express your feelings, click here ».
Don’t wait to help someone today.