It began when I was nine years old. I man in our neighborhood would come around on his motorcycle and see me. He told me to get on the motorcycle and kidnapped me. I did not know what to do so I did what he said to do. He would take me out to the place in a forest where he had a wooden board and would rape me in every way one could be raped. He would scare me and leave me out there to walk home alone at night.
I never told anyone and no one ever asked where I was. He continued to kidnap me and rape me repeatedly. I went on until we moved away from the area. During that time my brother had a friend who would come over–he was a child, but would rape me whenever he could. He would spend the night and end up in my bed at night and would rape me. He did this so many times I cannot even remember how many. It continued and I never told anyone.
My grandmother had a stroke and was in the hospital and my mom took us to her aunt’s house to stay. She took us to her son’s house and his son told me to go upstairs and shut the door and raped me. He told me that’s what he does. I was in fourth grade at the time and somehow some boys at school may have found out, they began beating me up at school. I had no one to tell.
I became bulimic at 13 years old and continued the behavior until I was 51 years old. When was 16 years old–the first person I ever told was to a church leader to repent of “what I did wrong.” He responded by telling me to never tell anyone about it again.
I began self-mutilating at 12 years old and have struggled with this for 40 years. I realize now that the bulimia I struggled with for 38 years was about wanting to purge and get rid of the pain and poison that was inside of me. It almost killed me. It never worked, I had to get it our by talking about all of it and bringing it out into the light. I suffered from so much shame, depression, anxiety, PTSD, isolation, secrecy, judgement, and a feeling of “badness” for so many years of my life. I now have 17 months of recovery from the bulimia. I am healing.