I had a killer therapy session today and considered writing about that. However, I decided it wouldn't make much sense yet b/c I've done nothing to talk about what's brought me to where I am in the first place. I think this history will be basic, and I'll let individual posts share more specifics, as I/we feel we want to.
I don't remember the exact age things started. Somewhere during the year that the body was 4. The family next door had a son my age and a daughter a year younger than my little sister. There really weren't any other kids in the neighborhood, but B (the son) and I were such good friends from as far back as we can remember, I don't think it mattered that there were no other kids in the neighborhood.
From what I've gathered from my parents we lived next door to this family from the time we moved into the house. I was 18 months old when we moved in, so it's hard to pinpoint at what age B and I became friends and began walking the path through the empty lot between our houses to play together. It was a wooded lot that my parents owned, and we walked the path so much, there was a clear trail to follow through the "woods" to each others' yards. It's a very confusing time for me, b/c some of our best childhood memories are playing with B outside in the summers. Going to his house became hell once his dad got involved.
Somewhere around the age of 4, B's dad took a noticeable liking to us.... or at least that's when He began to show us (cannot say abusers name to say outloud to anyone, so for the purposes of this blog, I will refer to him as He or Him, with a capitol H). Things started slow and progressed over the years, but the gist of the story is that He became my main abuser and things continued on a regular basis until the body was almost 9. He got a job transfer and moved away when we were 9. I say He was my main abuser b/c along the road B became an active part in several of our "activities". I don't see this as B's fault. He and I were the same age. B was just as much a victim as me. I saw Him and his family once again when the body was 12, and I saw B, his sis, and his mom when the body was 16. We haven't seen or talked to them since.
When I saw Him at 12 and his family at 16, we had already managed to suppress all of the memories, and I didn't even know I was a "we". Thankfully nothing happened during those visits, but I remember being petrified to be around them and not understanding why. Things started to unravel 1 month before my 17th birthday.
Well, I think this is a good start. Don't want to overwhelm us or anyone who may choose to read this. More to come.