I’m a self confessed fuckup/unfaithful/whore

My story THERE IS ALOT TO READ SO GET COMFORTABLE and I wish I could give all those people who read the whole thing a damn cookie or something for their efforts!

Right from the beginning my childhood was far from ideal. My mother was a drug addict and gave no affection or encouragement that I can remember.
I never met my father until later in my childhood, he also turned out to be a scary looking toothless drug addict and acted like he knew me far too well which didn’t sit well with me at all.

When I was born I had two older brothers, we all have different fathers (probably doesn’t come as a surprise to you)
We were quite close I guess, my oldest brother at the time being old enough to take care of us younger two in the way of basic needs.
He also understood right from wrong but wasn’t at an age to voice his concerns if he was given the chance.

The reason for my mother being extremely distant from me was from a previous (first child) daughter she had conceived and gave birth to but died of SIDS at six months old.
I was told about this by my oldest brother at a much older age, however it gave me a lot of understanding and insight into how/why my mother treated me the way she did.

She was terrified of me dying so she chose to not become attached emotionally to me.
Being a love starved child, I became vulnerable to people who would offer me the tiniest amount of encouragement or affection, such as someone saying “that’s good” or “thank you” this gave me a form of rush of love. I believed that even the simplest things of everyday politeness was a form of love and I craved it so much I would do anything to get it..
I became very close to animals, especially dogs as they could be a tad more affectionate than a bird or cat. This has lead me into a life filled with the passion of animal welfare of horses dogs and cats.

I know I’m taking a while to get to my abuse, however what I want you to understand is that I’m also a person and once was an innocent child, I feel and I breathe like everyone else does. I refuse to be known as a number or statistic.

Growing up my oldest brother took care of majority of my daily needs as a baby and small child.
I believe this also helped me become much more comfortable emotionally with males. I also noticed in my adolescence and in adulthood that I am able to understand men more deeply then women. Through my experiences I have also gained a high awareness of body language and thought processes of people without them even talking to me.
This would probably be the one of the very few perks I have received through my trauma.

My mother started becoming more and more dependant on drugs as the months went by, we were frequently left alone (my two brothers and I) to fend for ourselves. Most days we went without adequate nutrition sometimes without food altogether. Two minute noodles was our staple diet. I can safely say I absolutely hate two minute noodles now, from the smell of them and even the sight of the packaging makes me want to vomit.

There were times where she had left us with random people that we never knew, which wasn’t terrifying at my age. I was used to this behaviour from our mother that I thought all mothers did this. I never suffered any abuse from those people, I knew my brothers did though. They were beaten up a lot especially my oldest brother. Sometimes my mother had a boyfriend that would end up living with us. They would be abusive to my brothers but wouldn’t touch me, not from what I could remember. We all grew up seeing our mother struggle through domestic violence and being savagely beaten.

One memory I have that is deeply engrained into brain, it started off normal where I was put to bed early and I fell asleep easily. I woke needing to use the bathroom as most young children do. As I walked through the doorway of my bedroom to go up the hall my mother was thrown through the air right In front of me. I was in shock and started crying because I was scared my mum was hurt badly. The look of horror in her eyes when she saw me bawling my eyes out. She screamed at me to go in my room and close the door. I did what I was told straight away. While standing in my room I had the everlasting image of my mother in a night gown seeing the bruises up her thighs (which would have been previous violence) and her night gown up high on her body from being thrown. The intense fear in her eyes. She was laying on her right hip and her left arm was reaching and waving at me directing me into my bedroom .

The common misconception is that young children won’t remember these altercations. But they do, and I am evidence of this. I was only two when this happened. Seeing this in my childhood lead me to have both a physically violent relationship and a mentally/emotionally controlling one. The physically violent relationship was one in itself and the mental emotional controlling relationship was with another man. It also lead my oldest brother to be physically violent to women.

After quite a few reports to social services and police of neglect and physical abuse my mother eventually let my middle brother live with his father. As we were all quite young we were very close and at this age Inseparable. We all ended up living with my middle brothers father.

I don’t have many memories now of the abuse only three are substantial in my memory.
Later my brother told me that I was given extra privileges like staying up later, to watch tv. Or I got extra desert or playtime or bath time. As a child those things seem very important, makes you feel special. From what I have read this is a huge warning sign, it’s also a form of grooming a child to believe the person loves you, maybe loves you more then your other siblings. It gives you a false sense of security, and helps the abuser maintain secrecy. How many people do you think would tell someone if something was wrong if they were given those extra privileges especially if they were love starved?

I don’t want to go I to extreme detail as I wouldn’t want to trigger anyone else that has experienced it. All I will say is it involved fondling, penetration, rubbing his penis against my parts, touching his penis with my mouth tongue and hands, naked cuddling in bed.
All these things happened either in my own bed in his bed or the living room when my brothers weren’t home or when they were sleeping.

WHEN THE TRUTH CAME OUT

Sometimes my abuser would bring home a certain woman that he would sleep with, I actually became jealous of this, thinking that she was stealing my time I had with him. The person who gave me (what I thought was) love and affection and attention. Eventually this lead me to tell my oldest brother innocently. I remember that day like yesterday. I crept from my bedroom, having not had my abuser sneak into my bed that night or having him let me sleep in his bed. The door to his room was slightly ajar and I saw her curled up in his arms, I remember feeling and thinking “what about me, aren’t I special anymore” my oldest brother at that time was playing monopoly on the floor with my middle brother and saw me standing there watching my abuser sleep next to this love affection attention stealing woman. My brother said “your up early sis, what are you doing staring at him for” I casually asked him (whispering) to come and take a look. And he got up and tip toed over. That’s when I told him “he does that to me too” I never saw my brothers face when I told him, I never knew it was wrong. We went to school that day and none of us ever came home.

I remember I was in kindy, playing catch and kiss like most innocent children do. I had my hands and fingers splayed out with my thumbs on each cheek and poking my tongue out at the boys. Egging them on. That’s when the PA system crackled and I heard my name (this big loud thing was telling me to come to the office) that’s when I saw my brother coming towards me to take me there.

I tell you what seeing two men and a woman in suits looking very mysterious was terrifying for me! I didn’t know what was going on, I never understood what was happening. I just followed my brothers. Later I found out they were DOCS (department of social services) soon after sitting down in the big foyer at school. Numerous big cars and SUVs rocked up out the front with men in there reminding me of those sci fi movies my brothers watched. They were all fairly quiet and spoke to themselves. They were talking into Walkie talkies and the principle also my oldest brother.

I sat there quietly swinging my tiny short legs on the big soft comfy chairs thinking that this is all rather interesting. Are they going to take me out somewhere for fun? Are we going on a holiday? Do they have a surprise waiting for me at home? Is this a surprise my abuser set up for me? To make up for him giving his love affection and attention to another woman?

Obviously this wasn’t the outcome at all. Often this stage in the trauma can be traumatic it it’s own right.

A lot of the next few years are rather blurry and I seem to only remember things significantly confusing, scary or emotionally damaging that happened. The next memory I have was being put into a room at a court office, three ladies were in the room sitting with me. There were stuffed teddy bears everywhere and lots of coloured pencils texters and paper. As a child being in a cold room with strangers is scary in itself but the toys and coloured pens and paper helped me feel slightly relaxed. I didn’t talk much at first. I had quite a few of those “meetings” what they were trying to accomplish was for me to tell them what he did to me, to draw it out and display how he did things with the teddy bears. Eventually I came to trust only one of those women, mainly because she was the only one to give me any type of physical affection, she gave me warm hugs. At first I thought it was odd a woman was hugging me, I hadn’t ever experienced that in my life up to that point. Because I still had that void and love starved vulnerability I became extremely attached to her, thus only talking to her about what I had gone through.

At this time I was jumping from foster home to foster home. Eventually my oldest brother became very difficult to deal with within the foster care system and he was allowed/forced to live with mum. My middle brother hated me because I had taken his father from him, because of what h had done to me my middle brother couldn’t see his father. It took my middle brother many years to accept what had happened.

Eventually I did find a foster home that would tolerate my out bursts somewhat, I was at an age where I was growing taller and stronger. So my violent outbursts could become threatening, dangerous and destructive.
I never wanted to hurt anyone, I couldn’t explain why I did it at the time, nor afterwards either. Even while having an explosive outburst my mind was telling me “you will regret this, don’t do it” however my anger that kept getting bottle up would fight it’s way out anyway.

Trailing off topic for a short moment, only recently in the last year I have come to understand that my PTSD had traveled and transformed into my adulthood, from what I have read and studied with adequate psychological treatment if you are a child suffering from PTSD the likely hood of you being able to overcome PTSD completely is alot higher…. Once again DOCS had let me down at this point.

At times I feel cheated of life as a whole, because all of this affects me still. Just in different complex ways. It frustrates me, as a young teen I tried all different kids of things to escape the confusion and pain that I had no recollection of even beginning to comprehend. As a young child how can you understand it anyway.

So I needed up doing alot of stupid things that yes I do regret, anyone who says live without regrets is a bloody joker, because you can’t ever just live it up and “get over it”
That guy that made that up can go eat a giant bag of black lubed up dicks!

There are times when I try and picture my life without all these complications and complex problems that I’m still understanding to this day, but it’s damn near impossible because the fact is, this is my life. No changing it no escaping it.

I’m even worse in relationships…. Want one thing and wanting another at the same time however subconsciously! I’ve never been completely open about how I am in relationships, because being unfaithful is something I am ashamed of deeply.

I’ve never loved, I’ve always had a deep infatuation with the men I date.
I jump from one relationship to the next literally a week hardly gets by of being single before I’m in another relationship.

Army (or any section of defence) (keep in mind I’m Aussie) men seem to be my favoured type. Generally strong fit and are skilled at protecting themselves as well as other. I find it not only a turn on but the biggest part I feel safe. But I end up crushing every single one of their hearts. Destroying them completely to where they themselves go from a once nice guy to an arsehole.

Even though I move on with another guy, I keep annoying them pulling the back with my charms to make them have sex with me again. I seem to feed off it when I’m not with them, sort of like once the chase is over I get bored.

I also am terrified of being alone, so my love of army men is flawed because they travel often!!

I’m socially awkward I have no friends I don’t go out at all for fun.
Working out in the gym can only do so much! I’m ripped as hell I’m five foot ten and 70kg solid muscle. I play soccer, I’m active but I seem to still be too screwed up.

Every time I fuck up…. It’s a subconscious thing. In my head I live in the moment and don’t think about the repercussions of my actions.

I want to die already, there isn’t anyone out there for me that will make me be faithful no chance of help. Medications or doctors psychologists psychotherapists psychiatrists you name it… Had it all!

Not working.
I’ve already tried hanging myself and by god it was utter bliss those moments before I got cut down. I tried so hard to push the cops off me but they were too strong and I was weakening. I was so angry when I woke up in hospital alive

I wake up in the mornings even now and hate that I’m breathing, hate that I’m still fucking here.

So right now, just recently. I broke up with the best man I’ve ever had the luck to be with. I was unfaithful to him numerous times but somehow I did care for him so deeply! I couldn’t and still can’t live without him yet I know I will only damage him further.

And yes I’m already in the arms of another man! He is equally good looking respectful and kind. So guess I’m going to destroy this one too. Only a matter of time