My Story

My story began 8 years ago...
I was still 10 years old and I was very innocent and clueless... In short, I was still a child. But it changed when an acquaintance stayed over for a period of time. He was 67 years old at that time and everyone trusted him. He bought us food, he played with us until he began to touch me. I felt really uncomfortable, but I didn't know what he was doing. All I knew was that he was doing bad things and I didn't dare to tell that to my parents. I have a little brother and sister and I was the only one who got assaulted.

After being touched for so many days... One night, he attacked me when I was sleeping. I was right beside my little sister who was sleeping, but I couldn't make any sound or I was unable to make any sound. I was even unable to scream for help. I fought against him, but I failed. I thought I could protect my little sister if I didn't make any sound so that he can leave her alone. After being assaulted, he left the room and slept in his room. I couldn't sleep that night and the first thing I did in the next morning was: getting a shower to get rid of the smell and the dirt off of my body and after that I acted normal like nothing happened. But deep inside of me, I was really afraid to be alone or even being in the same room as him with my parents and my brother and sister.
After the day I've been assaulted, he disappeared. (I don't even know if he's still living or not, but that's not the issue right now.)

I've been living in fear for years... I didn't trust any men and boys (I've been also bullied by boys during my childhood). I've always acted hostile towards them. Then I got into middle school and it was during that time that I've realised what happened to me and what I've lost as a child. Short after that I've gotten into a depression... I wasn't a drug- nor an alcoholaddict because I was against it. (and I'm still against it) I was really suicidal and nobody knew it. But I failed at each attempt to kill myself because I thought about my family and friends and those who really care about me. I couldn't just leave them... I was imagining what it would be like if I died without them knowing why I've commited suicide. I just thought it was unfair to them, I just didn't want to hurt them... And I've been thinking about it for years...

Last year, I decided to take my first step to tell my story to someone and that very first person was my sister who's 3 years younger than me. I was very afraid to tell my story to my sister for the first time because I was afraid of her reaction. At first she didn't know what I was talking about until I've said it explicitly. She was shocked after that, but didn't get angry with me. She was speechless because she didn't know what to say. But she did comfort me and I felt better after that. I even felt more relieved after telling my story. The next person who also knew my story was my brother who's almost 1 year younger than me. (we were born in the same year) He was the first boy who knew about it. My little brother is quite mature for his age and tried to cheer me up by making a joke about it. I felt really blessed that I have such a brother and sister, but I still quarrel frequently with my brother because of some misunderstandings. We're both awkward people and we're easily misunderstood by other people. *chuckle*

Then one day, my school was organizing an event about sexuality and sex education. I felt really uncomfortable and I broke down on that very day. They didn't know what happened to me and they sent me to the secretary. I told her my story by writing it because I was unable to speak at that time. After that, she sent me to the guidance counselor. Then she made an appointment with a female psychologist. I was unsure at first, but I just gave it a try.

On 20 January (Friday), my mother suddenly asked me if I've had any problems. My little sister was also present at that moment. After that question my sister and I looked at each other and she asked me if she could tell it to her in my place. I thought for a moment and I decided to tell it myself. My mother cried after hearing my story and I felt also really bad. We both cried and she let me stay at home because I couldn't go to school in that state. She called my school to get the permission to stay at home.

The next person who knew my story was one of my friends. I didn't know why I told her, but I knew that I could trust her. And my journey to get out of the darkness began... I guess even before that.^^'

And if I look at myself right now, I came to realise that I've told my story to a lot of people. Many friends, teachers and family members and some classmates know my story. And some of them also know other people who have had the same experience...

I gain what I gave to them. And those things that I've gained are the strength and trust in other people...