My abuse

Disclaimer:  This account of my abuse is solely to give context to my situation. I in no way use my abuse as a crutch or excuse for what I have done to hurt others.

*** Trigger Warning - Explicit! ***

Relative, my ages 9-11

A close relative started abusing me around the age of about 9. He was a couple of years older than I. It started off as a secret game. I was a flagrant blabbermouth so I was happy that someone wanted to share a secret with me.

He began by showing me his penis and wanting to see mine. I do not remember how I specifically felt about this but I did what was asked of me. As time progressed, the game entailed masturbation and fellatio. I enjoyed the physical feelings these games provided. I liked having a secret only we knew.

The game became more frequent and for longer periods of time. I became uncomfortable with the game when I was made to perform fellatio on one of his friends. I was told that I would do that or else he would tell everyone that I was a "faggot." This was the 80s and I knew what that meant in my neighborhood. I was already bullied and beat up regularly. I did not need to give anyone more reasons to hurt me.

Soon, he became more interested in girls and the abuse subsided. However, this did not prevent him, throughout the years, from touching me while I was asleep. I would awake to his hand on my penis or buttocks. I think those times most adversely affected me.

Unfortunately, I not only enjoyed the physical sensations, I craved them. More about that on the page "My hurtful actions."

Neighbor, my age 10
There was a paraplegic man in his 30s who lived in our neighborhood. The kids either teased and hated him or felt sorry and liked him. I was the latter. I was also bullied and beat up so he seemed safe. I mean, what was a "cripple" going to do to me.

Apparently, my parents saw something in this man that concerned them. They told me I was not to hang out with him anymore. As boys do, I felt they were wrong and I could be around him as I saw fit. I was a strong willed 10-year-old, or so I thought.

One day, I was lonely and had no one to play with that was my own age. I saw this man rolling around in his wheelchair. He asked if I wanted to go fishing. Of course, I did. Fishing went well despite not catching anything. I genuinely had a good time.

After fishing, he invited me to his house, specifically his room in the basement. I thought, okay, that sounds reasonable. While down there, he laid on his bed. He told me to come  over to him. Not seeing any danger, I did. What I did not know is somehow he had unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out and covered it up. He grabbed my hand with a stone like grip and forced my hand down on his penis. Shocked, I did not know what was happening at first. Upon realizing, I told him no and pulled my hand away as hard as I could. He let go of my hand and I took off as fast as I my feet would take me.

Though this only happened one time, I felt powerless and dirty. I blamed myself for it happening. I felt that I could not tell my parents because I would get in trouble for disobeying them. If I would have only listened to dad and mom this would not have happened. Of course, it was all my fault.

Naturally, I know that none of this was my fault even if I liked the physical feelings or disobeyed my parents but I was trapped by this thinking for many years. It still plagues me occasionally. I am trying to live each day as a survivor and not a victim.