As a child I was abused. I don’t even know what to call it cause it was by my older sister who was younger than me and my brothers who were younger than me. I think they were abused too. There’s so much abuse in my family. Such a perfect pictogram of the cycle of abuse. A was abused. A abused B. People know of a lot of it and we don’t talk about it but I don’t think anyone knows about me. I feel ashamed that it happened to me. I know I shouldn’t. I was just a child. It wasn’t my fault. But perhaps because it’s been secret it feels like such a huge shame. Shame that belongs to me. Shame that should belong to the people who started all this. Who hurt my siblings first. They didn’t know any better. I know I can’t blame them. So somehow I blame myself. I think I’m soiled and dirty and I’ve tried for years to avoid this but things have brought it to the surface. A video of a girl just a little older than I was surfaced. She was a child but people called her such awful things and I didn’t even know how to feel about it. I don’t know her. I don’t know her life. No one did and they judged her anyway. It felt in a way like they were judging me. Like hundreds of strangers on the internet were judging me the child I was and me now. Like somehow I’m still that child like she’s just been inside me and she’s never grown or gone away. She’s just stayed and turned into shame, and the shame has grown but also stayed the same. So much shame. So much shame that I don’t deserve that she doesn’t deserve because she was a child. She wasn’t responsible. I wasn’t. I’m not.
And now there’s a little sister I have that looks just like my older sister and it’s just bringing all of it back even more. I feel so uncomfortable around her. I feel like some p******** or something. I know I would never do anything or hurt anyone. But I hate that I have these thoughts. I hate that this thing has its hooks on me. I want my mind to be a safe space.