The first trigger

Okay so I’m ready to tell you about the first and most dominant trigger of all my mental health issues.

My Childhood – The Abuse

I find this very hard to talk about, and apart from the police officers in my interviews and questioning, I don’t think I have ever disclosed the details to any of my family or friends.

I was about 8 years old when it started, it began as a game, like mummy’s and daddy’s. There was a housing estate just a five minutes walk from my family home, where a family friend lived. My mother used to take myself and my brother to her friends house and let us play with the other children that lived on the housing estate. I can still visualise exactly where it was when it first started, the fence that acted as the pretend doorway to our imaginary house, where we would place our fingerprint to gain access. I was still young enough to participate in these imaginary games and find them fun and exciting. He told me that we had to pretend to be married, and do all of the things that real married couples would do. At 8 years old I was too naïve to understand what it is that adult couples in relationships do, but I was about to find out…

The game began outside in the street, anyone could have seen it but out there only a quick peck or a cuddle was displayed which must have seemed normal to any adult should they ask and be told that you were playing a game of that sort. It progressed over the weeks and things started to move indoors and this is where I first learnt about sexual activities. It was a part of the game, it was what couples did. First I was shown what to do, being taught like a child would be, but this wasn’t a classroom and it was no content I needed to learn about so early in my life. After being shown the various things that I could do I was then told I had to keep doing it. I will never forget the explanation or the room surrounding me as I learned of this. “when you keep doing that, eventually it will make my whole body tingle and something will come out, that’s when you know you’ve done a good enough job”. That was my first ever experience of how to please someone in the bedroom and it has never left me. I remember having a session with a councillor at school, shortly after I had spoke up about what had been happening. I was about 10 by this point, I was in my final year of primary education, hadn’t even made it to big school yet. I sat with this lady and we cut out words from magazines and stuck words one side that we thought may make me sad, fearful, things I may struggle with in the future. Words like sex, boyfriend, man, trust…

Nothing could prepare me for how much it would impact my life and it seems that every time I have a breakdown or an anxiety attack I learn even more how it links to this. I read some articles lately about childhood abuse and it mentioned on there that you can go one of two ways from an experience like this. Some people are so fearful that they avoid any sexual contact, any relationships, due to the trauma they have been through. Some people however act in the opposite way, participating in sexual relations perhaps too much. I am afraid I have been one of those. Only now that I am able to reflect on the life I have lived I have realised that I engaged willingly in sexual relations at a very young age, something that I am very ashamed of. I also consented to relations throughout my life that I have actually had no desire for. I believe that I have always acted this way because of that moment I mentioned above. I grew from a child into an adult with it implanted in my growing brain that I had to please men, that I had to make them orgasm, only then would I have done my job properly. I now have my own desires for the product that is produced when an orgasm is reached and I wonder if that is again also linked to that day.

There is far too much to go through with regards to how this abuse has left me feeling. Most commonly I feel worthless, I feel as though everyone is out to get me and that if someone is being nice to me, it is not out of the goodness of their heart. There is always an ulterior motive that my brain wont give up searching for, and it is this that causes me to push away the good people. Because I cant believe they are good, I cant believe anyone would ever love me. I feel as though I am destined to be hurt and that it will always happen to me no matter what. As I write more posts I will link some of my attacks, my fears and my feelings back to what happened to me as a small child.

Sometimes I feel as though its just easier to give up, because things will never get better for me. But its like I have two minds, a true Gemini, and every now and then I get a glimpse of a healthier, happier future and I know that I cant give up on reaching it. I really hope that I can find ways to get better and fight this for myself and for everyone that is close to me.

Until next time.

 

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