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It began as a child, I was 4 and had a uncle, (who is still married to my aunt) who abused me as a child. I don't remember much of the abuse, there are memories that come back, and intrusive thoughts I tried to block out of my head. As a kid, I alway thought I'd get blamed for the bad thing that was happening. I never understood what sex was until later. I didn't understand what my uncle was doing and could only associate it with being weird and bad. My family life wasn't so great either. My parents fought all the time, and my dad was pritty abusive to my mother. I never wanted to disappoint her, and still feel like I could never give her the only thing she expected from me, just to get married and live a good little Russian life as a wife and mother. Being a virgin was a big deal, I already thought I was going to hell, I never knew how to talk about it. As a kid I would just block it out. It seemed easier to do then.
I never clicked in my head, I had a pedophile in my life, I was 17 when this realization began understanding the all the self hate and a self abuse I internalized..
When I was 14 I was dating a guy, he told everyone I was just a whore anyways and he was just finishing the job. I wanted to wait until marriage. And felt like everything was token from me that day. I didn't want it, I tried stopping it, and just froze as it began to resurface the fear and what happened as a child. My whole life flashed before my eyes, and I just couldn't understand why it was happening again. I even blamed myself for allowing myself to be alone with this person who I was suppose to be able to trust. I gave up. And continued to date the guy for three weeks after that which we never saw each other, he would just call me in the evening and wed chat for 15 minutes, until he broke up with me. I was told by another girl in the community that going to the police was a joke, that no one would believe me, so to just keep my mouth shut, as Americans already looked so down on the community and where against Russians that it would make things worse. I wish I never listened to her.
The third time I was 18 engaged and at a house of girl in which my ex met at the bar. I didn't even want to go over there that night yet he convinced me everything was going to be okay. We were drinking, I was slipped something, woke up the nexted day feeling funny. I felt what was in my drink for a week. Nor is doing drugs really ever been my thing. I don't really know what happened. I just remember being pushed up against a wall repeating that I love by soon to be husband. I blacked out after. We broke up after and I left, and he began seeing his ex, not even 3 days later.
The last time, I went on a date. I had told this person over and over that I didn't want to have sex on the first date. After telling him repeated where I stood we ended up at his house and just pressured me into, even after telling him I didn't want to. He'd move my hands over his parts, I even tried getting up and leaving as I asked him to take me home. It went to far, and as he was inside me began telling me he was rapping me. He repeated himself. I was so fluster when I got home, I wasn't thinking straight. The next day he tried getting in contact with me and I just told him to fuck off, that I felt like he raped me and I didn't want to see him anymore.
A couple of months later I had gone to Planned parent hood to get tested for an STD. Thats all I kept thinking about was, what if he had something.
In Sept, of that same year he had asked me out on a date. I completely forgot how I met this person, and why we had stopped seeing each other in the first place. Even asked him after we had slept together why we had stopped seeing each other in the first place and he wouldn't tell me. He had sexual relationship for a couple of weeks after. Every time I went over there I had the intention of talking about things, trying to figure out what he wanted from me and if things would turn out to be my happy ending. Things where just weird. If I tried calling or texting he wouldn't answer. Everything Time I started talking or asking questions he would straight for sex. I stopped seeing him after that. I clang on to some much of what he said, like him telling me that my family never cared about me, cus if they did my uncle would be in jail, and I wouldn't have had to deal with it all on my own. They would have been there or acted liked they cared. He would get into contact with every few months after that. I kept trying to understand why he was the way he was, to show compassion, or to find the human side of him. Things just continued to get weird, and more abusive, he would say that I'm just a whore. Or that he could never love someone he rapped. He even black mailed me, told me, he was "PROTECTING MY Innocence" , I thought he was being nice, and it was his way of saying he wanted to help with the childhood abuse. I told him I never had any innocence, we fought and I still had no clue what he meant. When I started finding the porn on the internet with myself in it. I began to understand what this guys intentions and motivations where. When I went to the police I had no help, and I am pretty sure they had made up their mind about me and what I was saying before I ever walked in that room to show them what I had found. Explain how I know it was me, the marks that matched, the memories that would come back, the weirdness in this mans behavior. I had gone to the police previously explaining this man raped me. Because I kept calling him to get answers to the porn, he would ignore my calls or when he'd pick up he'd just start calling me names. He told me he did record, and than he'd say he never did. The Police never did anything, and currently I am being charged with harassment!!
I hate my life so much. There isn't one day that I go through no wishing I was dead. Or that I had done things differently. It just makes me want to cry and give up. I feel like I'm being punished for being raped. I'm just a person with a big heart who tries to do the right thing, and fix the things that aren't, yet I'm the one being accused of being a criminal. I tried to do was love this person. I had several mental breaks downs. Gone to counselors that told me they should go to the police, yet never did. I just hate my life, and I really feel like no one has ever cared about me. Like with in it all, there was no chance of me having rights or a voice. Like everything I have felt and been, has been denied, and like my life was never mine in the choices I tried to make. Yet here I sit, accused of being a criminal because I annoyed this person my making his phone ring.