Abuse

Hi, I don't feel comfortable sharing my name yet, but it will probably come out eventually.

I've been carrying this with me for 9 years now. I need to tell my story, not for sympathy, but because I want the people who hurt me to be named. I want the world to know what they did to me. I want them to remember, because I will never forget.

This began in 2016, but I’ve known Sherri-Lee Clark since 2013, when we both started high school. We were in the same classes during 2015 and 2016. I never really paid much attention to her until one day in 2016 when a friend of mine, G, gave her my phone number without telling me. Sherri messaged me out of the blue, and I was surprised but happy. We started chatting on WhatsApp, and we got along well. We played texting games and had some fun conversations. I started to really like her, but I’ve always struggled with social anxiety, so I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her at school. But through texting, things felt good.

At some point, I introduced her to my friend K. That changed everything. K had a way of stealing the spotlight, and I felt like Sherri started giving more attention to him. But she still talked to me, so I tried to hold onto that. Then an incident occurred that changed everything. Soon after, the second school term ended. I remember being in English class that day, and my teacher, Mrs. LaRosa, caught me using my phone. She went off on me in front of the entire class, called out my poor grades, and completely humiliated me.

During the school holidays that followed, I was already feeling like absolute garbage. Then, to make matters worse, Sherri's brother messaged me and told me to leave his sister alone. I was crushed. But I still reached out to Sherri and asked if things were still okay between us. She said yes. That tiny glimmer of hope was all I had to hold onto.

Then the third term started. It was a Monday, and I refused to go back to school. I was terrified of seeing Sherri, facing my teacher, and confronting everything that had happened. That same day, I snapped. I took apart a toy helicopter, used the blades, and began cutting my neck. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but I left deep scars. My parents rushed me to a therapist. My brother told them about what happened with Mrs. LaRosa. My parents contacted the school principal, who then spoke to Mrs. LaRosa. While I was still at the doctor, Mrs. LaRosa called me, sounding genuinely apologetic. After that, she never mistreated me again.

I returned to school on Wednesday. Things were hard, but I tried to adjust. I kept texting Sherri. On her birthday, I gave her a present and wished her a happy birthday in person. She even sat behind me in English class. I thought things were getting better. But I was wrong.

A week or two after her birthday, during recess, Sherri and her friends: Bianca Brown, Demi Leigh Duplessis (now Demi Leigh Comradie), another girl named Didi, and another girl who I cannot remember the name of, all approached me and ganged up on me. They humiliated me, insulted me, and tore down whatever was left of my fragile state.

I went home that day and spiraled again. I became severely suicidal and confided in K, who then told Sherri. That same day, Sherri messaged me and tried to talk me out of suicide. The irony of it all broke me even more. She had just taken part in the group that pushed me to the edge, yet she was now trying to act like a savior.

My grades had hit rock bottom. I knew I wouldn’t pass the year. Not long after, Sherri blocked me. But the torment didn’t end. In December, she added me to a WhatsApp group chat with all her friends, and they continued to bully me. I kept leaving the group, and they kept adding me back, using different people. I kept blocking them, one by one. Eventually, they stopped.

I never went back to that school. I transferred to a new school in 2017, but the trauma never left. The mental scars are as raw today as they were then. 2017 felt like a year of relative calm (despite many other personal tragedies in my life occurred then), and things processed to go downhill in my life from 2018 to the present.

Outside of school, the person who contributed the most to my ongoing mental health struggles was my father. I won’t name him here, but his role in my decline after 2016 cannot be ignored.

I name these people.. Sherri-Lee Clark, Bianca Brown, Demi Leigh Duplessis (Comradie), and additional bullies: Sheldon Brooks and Curtly Arries, because I want them to be remembered. Because what they did left permanent damage. People often treat bullying like a phase. But what they did to me wasn’t just bullying. It was cruelty, manipulation, humiliation and sometimes physical abuse. And I’ve lived with the consequences every day since. I'm posting this because I really want there to be accountability despite how unrealistic it may be.

#Depression #Anxiety #Suicide #Trauma

My father touched me again, it's been happening since I started middle school and my body changed, it's been years but I can't find myself to tell anybody, my mother is still very much in love and I don't want to ruin her happiness. I just wished it stopped.
#Abuse

Hi, my name is Bianca8. I'm here because I've been abuse throughout my childhood and I want to release that trauma and empower myself back.

#MightyTogether #Depression

Hello. About 24hrs ago, I commented an extremely private memory on a tiktok post. I'm not sure why I did it. I was going to delete it but decided to leave it. Today I woke up feeling a little lighter. I thought maybe if I just put everything out there. It won't hurt as much. It won't continue to eat me alive. Truth is, I am a victim of childhood sexual abuse. At the hands of my mother. I'm embarrassed to say that this went on until adulthood but here I am, many years later. Trying to figure it all out. The comment that I left on this tiktok post went as follows: My mom told me to go kill myself. I tried but didn't succeed. I still have many days where I wish I had. Idc if nobody sees this. I think the darkness is leaving me, little by little.

This is one of the most difficult moments in the life of a childhood sexual abuse survivor. When you receive a letter from your abuser, requesting that you reach out. How do you respond, if you respond at all?

I wrote a letter, rewrote it, and translated it into the language he would understand. It's been three months since he wrote to me, after seven and a half years of silence. Seven and a half years ago, I wrote him a letter, a very vulnerable and not very well thought-out letter.

I wish the letter I received back were honest, open, apologetic, and acknowledging, however, I realize that it's not logical to receive an authentic and open letter from someone who made it his business to abuse and confuse me during my childhood and also in my adult life. It just shows more repression and suppression, he's still hoping that what he did will never come to the surface.

I am considering sending him the letter I wrote, however, I am also considering creating an open letter to the public, for all to see what I am going through and what happened to me. After decades of silence, I feel compelled to shout it off the rooftop and to include everyone so that I no longer have to feel like I am standing alone.

I think that survivors of childhood sexual abuse desperately need support and community, people who understand, support, and are empathetic towards what we go through. I don't think it is fair that we have to do this alone.

What do you think? Looking for honest and real thoughts, and hoping to find others like myself.

Thank you.

Sabrina

Hi, my name is secardinal. I'm here because I’m interested in finding coping strategies for dealing with long term severe childhood sexual abuse by a wealthy family member who got away with it and the ensuing isolation shame and retraumatizing that can occur when it seems like my family refuses to acknowledge it even happened. How it was normalized in our house for so long and trying to develop new friendships as an adult in what seems like a severely judge mental world. I seek to find functional positive enlightening dialogue. Thank you!

#MightyTogether

Hi, my name is Obemore. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #Depression #ADHD #Anxiety #Abuse

​I can now at age 48 remember images and sounds that I saw and heard when I was 9 months old. But I have always been completely aware of 3 ongoing colorful nightmares I had over those 48 years. With self-reflection and therapy, all of those images, sounds, and the ongoing nightmares tied back to specific instances of abuse in my childhood.

​I can now at age 48 remember images and sounds that I saw and heard when I was 9 months old. But I have always been completely aware of 3 ongoing colorful nightmares I had over those 48 years. With self-reflection and therapy, all of those images, sounds, and the ongoing nightmares tied back to specific instances of abuse in my childhood.