Her Brother abused her: she suppressed it.

From anonymous:

My innocence was taken from me, before I even had the chance to revel in it.

I was molested, sexually abused by my half brother. When I try and bring up the memory, my brain wants to repress it, wants to forget, or confuses itself into wondering if such horrendous acts where done to me. Sadly they were. I was only about 7 or 8 years old when it started, it's all hazy but I can surely remember distinct moments. Degrading moments that I know would be almost virtually impossible for a child that young to even think up on her own. Besides, the feelings of uncertainty, fear, and the gnawing feeling this isn't right are too real to for my imagination to conjure up. I learned from then on to keep secrets, to not ask for help, I remember trying helpless to push him off, but I failed and he continued to abuse me until he moved away a couple years later. From the very first incident, I became a victim of my own self. Learned to shut people away, hide feelings, blame myself and thoroughly convince myself that something in me was defective and that's why I was the only little girl who had to carry around this burden.

Carrying me to today, a confused young lady. I see my magnitude and potential in me, but the scars and wounds get in the way. I revel in my recklessness to try and shove away the confusion and pain i hold in my heart. I constantly turn to Jesus trying to ask why, to ask for salvation, warmth of grace, some sort of reassurance that there is reason for why I went down the road I had to travel, that I will eventually flourish and become the Image he sees me as that I can not seem to see.

I carry a slew of emotions of guilt, resentment , anger, sadness, and more. I know i will carry this to my grave, there is no way I can ever open this up to my parents. How do you tell your ailing father his first born son scarred his first born daughter. On top learning to hold secrets, I've learned to also carry anyone's burden on my own shoulders to just to help rid them of their own. I rather suffer, than have anyone else suffer.

I was blessed and cursed with compassion, a compassion this world devastating lacks. I learned to forgive, I constantly forgive in my heart.. Yet all the forgiving as left me torn up to shreds living me listless. leaving me so torn, at times embittered at myself and those around me.

For one person's instability scarring me has left me utterly in the dark in my own life. I constantly am battling myself. The good me vs the bad reckless me. The strong survivor me vs the hanging by the single thread me. Somedays i feel helpless, and feel that i will never be understood, and i will be alone with my demons. concluding my thinking of wishing I could be free my pain and taken away from my misery. I've tried. Even had a gun to my head, no one ever knows that part. But because of the incessant battling, i lucked out never pulled the trigger.

I forgive. I forgive for all the pain in my life, from any different outlets. But why do i feel like i do not heal. The moment i start to heal something undoes the process.

Still i have hope, a sliver of hope. That maybe I will find inner peace. That sliver of hope may be the only thing keeping me together.

Till then, I will hide behind my smile, and hope that one day, someone will really look behind it and see the pain buried deep in my eyes.