Welcome to Survivors Across America And beyond

Hello; welcome to Survivors Across America And beyond

SURVIVORS STORIES

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I am 30 years old and, eventhough I know that I have survived, I do not yet feel like a survivor. Being sexually abused by my father's uncle are some of my earliest and most vivid childhood memories. I don't recall pain or threats or coersion. It was just part of being with him. If he took me camping, it was part of camping. If he took me for a walk, it was to where he could molest me. When my family slept at his cottage, I was told not to wear underwear to bed. It was "our special secret" because he loved me. I know that he had the same "secret" with my younger brother and sister, and my cousins. When he had us together, he would have us wait for a turn. I remember details about incidents the way you remember scenes in a movie, as if I was an onlooker, not a participant. My parents found out when I was twelve. It is my understanding that my brother told my grandfather what my uncle was doing and that he told my parents. I have never understood why my grandfather told, when he was also molesting me. My father , who made the phone call to my uncle to accuse him of this, was also molesting me. My mother was the one who questioned me about the abuse and that was the last time it was discussed. I was told later that my father and grandfather admitted what they had been doing and went for counseling. From the half of the phone conversation I heard, my uncle denied it. In a way, I guess I was lucky. My parents believed me and it was made very clear to me when my mom found out, that I was not at fault. My father even apologized. I believe that I have forgiven my father and grandfather for what they did to me. My uncle's denial however, has haunted me all me life. We never saw him after my parents found out. Eventhough it was never discussed, things happened throughout my life that kept the memories alive. Swimming class as a teen was hell - being gawked at and groped. The smell of my music teacher after his lunch break was nauseating - cigarettes and scope. A college advisor who kissed me. Not to mention high school boyfriends. While I believe that none of these incidents were my fault, sometimes it's difficult to remember that when so many unrelated incidents have occured. I sometimes feel like a magnet. Earlier this year I was informed that my uncle was dying of throat cancer. I fely pity for him. I had hoped that someday he might apologize to me, or at least admit what he had done. I had hoped that I might be able to forgive him before he died. I thought that when he died, my hurt would die too. A few months ago I was informed that he had died. I felt like my world was falling apart and I still don't understand why I feel this way. For so many years I had silently dealt with the flashbacks, coping the best I could. Now he had died and I couldn't deal with it anymore. Twenty years of silent suffering came pouring out. That was when I started looking for help. I've been seeing a counselor for two months now and, while I know that I have a safe place to dump my garbage, sometimes I feel like things are getting worse. Healing has consumed my every waking thought, like background music. I've been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My memories scare me, and what I can't remember scares me even more. Sometimes I feel like this is killing me a little at a time. He's dead and I feel more like a victim now than I did twenty years ago. I'm praying that some day I will have the strength and self-confidence to call myself a survivor.