I never thought I would ever talk about this. I really need to, not only get this off of my chest, I need to confront this. I consider myself a strong person, but I really don't know what to do, it's been eating away at my soul for almost 30 years.I apologize if the following is graphic. It is necessary for me to give details, as I am trying to understand some messed up emotions.Here goes:
First, I don't consider myself an ****** survivor, I will elaborate why as I proceed. When I was younger, I'm 37 now, I was 7 at the time. I engaged in a long term consensual sexual relationship with my sister who was a year older than I.
My brother who was 13 , my sister and I seldom played together, in fact, he and she were very close and I was the odd one out. Anyways, we started playing truth or dare together, as the sessions progressed, my brother would ask my sister truth or dare, and she when she did choose dare, he would usually give her a really disgusting option, and the other one would be to "put it in." She chose the second option and they would leave the room and do their thing.
This happened a couple of times and I started getting curious and jealous, and one time I asked if I could watch. And he let me, and they did their thing. I wasn't grossed out by it, quite the opposite, I was aroused and I was jealous that they were doing it, and I wasn't. Plus, his penis was much larger than mine.
As time went on, my sister and I started doing it. First it was once in a while. Then she and I would do it about twice a week. I liked it because I liked the closeness, I liked feeling like I was wanted. It felt good. I wanted to please her. I again felt very inadequate because he did it better and had a bigger penis and she made more noises with him. I was determined to better him.
Also, you may wonder where my parents were during all of this. My parents worked hard all day. They got up at 5. Left at 6 and usually came home around 8 or 9 at night. We had a lot of time to ourselves. Plus, my father was seldom around and my mother was always angry about one thing or another. We went to school unsupervised. We walked home unsupervised. We stayed in the house unsupervised, we made our own dinner unsupervised. We put ourselves to bed unsupervised.
This went on for about a year. We would still play our game where I was the one who would give her the choices so that I could watch my brother and her have sex. Then it progressed to where we both would have sex with her, taking turns.
Then the game stopped and my brother stopped hanging out with us. He had starting having friends and girlfriends and such. My sister hated his girlfriends. She would call them names, threatening them and actually start fights with. Then my brother started treating her very badly.
She and I continued our relationship for about two more years. we started having sex 2-3 times a day. We would come home from school, do our homework, then go to bed and have sex. I wanted it. Sometimes on weekends when we were home alone, we would just do it all day. This seemed normal to me, nothing about it seemed wrong. I was glad that I had her to myself. I wanted her for myself. She was mine not his. I hated him. I loathed him in a way that I never loathed another human being then, or now. Everything came easily for him and I have something of his. I wanted to please her better than he did, I wanted her to know that I deserved her and not him. I wanted her to forget him. At the same time, I felt very low about myself because I knew that I was nothing more than a substitute for him.
Then, one day she said that we had to stop. I didn't protest, but I was hurt. I felt rejected. I felt useless. Soon afterwards, she started getting very mean towards me. She'd get physically abusive. Yell and scream at me for no apparent reason. I wouldn't strike or fight back because she was a girl and I couldn't hit a girl.
Our relationship deteriorated from then on. We essentially stopped talking. We wouldn't hang out together anymore. This combined with the fact that I was a very shy child. I had very few friends because I couldn't relate to other children, to me, they seemed stupid and very unintelligent. As a sidebar, in my academic career, I skipped a grade. I was teased unmercifully by the older kids because I was younger than they were.I begged to be back in my normal class. Plus my home life was disintegrating. My parents were never home. They never attended parent-teacher night, never hugged us or kissed us or showed any affection towards us.Going from having constant physical contact to nothing really hurt me. I don't think I have ever recovered from it. In fact, I don't like being touched by anybody.
But, this story isn't necessarily about me, it's about my sister. She started getting into trouble at school. fights, mouthing off to teachers, skipping class and the like. My brother was running around the streets getting arrested, doing drugs and the like. My sister started doing the same.
I couldn't stand her, in fact, I was embarrassed by her, we went to the same school, despite the fact that she was a year older than I, I ended up a grade ahead because she got kept back, twice.
She got worse and worse with each passing year. She eventually dropped out of school. Was in and out of rehab facilities for her drug and alcohol addiction. I forgot to mention that she was 16 at this point.
Fast forward to the future, she is 28 and she died of a heart condition. My brother treated her like she didn't even exist for the last 15 years of her life. I didn't do much better. I was disappointed with her decision making, or lack thereof. She died leaving 4 young girls behind. When she died, I felt relief. Whatever pain she had was now gone and we can all move on with our lives.
It took many years later for me to realize a lot of things. I think my brother is directly responsible for her death. I think he used her and just threw her aside and treated her like ****. She loved him more than anyone else in the world. I think she was in love with him and she never got over his rejection.
I didn't do much better. I pretty much ignored her for the past 12 years of her life. I am just as guilty as he is.
Since she passed, I have been trying to heal my family and the wounds. I am making progress as we are finally close. I have a very close relationship with my brother. I am the Godfather to his youngest daughter. I am very proud of how he turned his life around.
This history has not had any discernibly negative effects on me. I do not have a sexual attraction to children, which I understand happens. I do love children very much and I am very nurturing, loving and fiercely protective of them.I am able to, and I currently have a happy, stable, functional long term adult relationship.
I am and I have been fighting with depression for as long as I can remember, I did try to commit suicide when I was twelve. I haven't since.
The only real negative effect is that I have an ungodly high amount of sexual energy. I want sex and I need it multiple times a day. When I don't have sex, I usually ********** at least once a day. When I dated, I would try to find girls, ladies, or women who loved sex and would want it as much as I did. I usually found out that at some point in their life, they were molested. I kept my experiences secret. Sex to me is on par with eating, drinking, sleeping and breathing.Despite my insatiable sexual appetite, I am monogamous. I have NEVER cheated on any of my partners. No prostitutes, nothing.
Here is my problem. I feel ashamed of my past, not for what happened, but for how I felt about it, which was I wanted to do those things, I conspired with my brother so that I could watch and later partake. The fact that I was jealous of him and tried to compete with him. The fact that I wanted to do it. The fact that I enjoyed it. That is what I feel the most shame about. I could say that I was young, and I wasn't emotionally equipped to make those types of decisions, or deal with the resultant fallout. I wasn't. I went into the situation of my own free will. I have never suppressed or repressed any of these memories. I've never tried. I've never wanted to. I wanted to keep them fresh in my mind. I enjoyed those moments and I've looked back on them fondly. Part of me wants to relive them again.
I am also ashamed because there are times when I still yearn for my sister's touch. Sometimes I wish she were still here, I wish that we could have resumed our relationship. There were times when I was 15 or so, I wanted to ask her if we could ****. My penis was larger, I was better in bed now, maybe I can be a good lover for her. But, I feared the rejection and I never asked. I'm ashamed that I am getting aroused as I recall this.
I loved her I turned my back on her, and I am ashamed of it. I have to live with her death, her blood is on my hands. I am ashamed of what I did. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve to die. I know it's not my fault. But, ****. After sharing what we had, how could I have been so cold?
Now, we have my brother. I need to talk to him about this. My soul will not rest until I do so, she deserves the right to have him know her story, but I don't want to dredge up the past. I don't want to risk endangering our relationship, or family.
Since I started coming to terms with this and confronting it, my sex drive has gotten stronger, I want to **** everything that moves. I used cocaine when I was in college. I loved the euphoric high, it was orgasmic. I quit because I was getting addicted. Now, I want to start using again because sex and ************ isn't enough to get me high anymore, I need something stronger, I have found myself watching BDSM and rough *********** to see if it'll help me get off more. It doesn't work, in fact, it sickens me. The degradation of it all. I want to go to that wonderful ecstatic place where I can no longer go.
I need help. I have recently started counseling, so I am getting that help. I just hope it isn't too little too late.
Thank you for hearing my confession.