When I was younger I was molested. I don't remember it. I go back and forth with believing it or not, but somehow I know it happened, I've always known. I don't remember who did it, I don't remember when or how... I don't even remember how many people. I feel like it was a lot, but I don't really know. I know that I've asked God to remind me, but at the same time I never wanted to know.

I'll write down what I do remember.

I started masturbating when I was really young. I don't know how young though. If it was 4, or 6, or 8, but it was young. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember. My mom used to catch me and I would get in trouble, so I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know why. When I was 9 years old my mom sat me down and told me that what was happening to me was because when I was little a man named Raymond showed me his penis. When she said it I had a flash in my mind. I always thought that it had been a dream, but I had this very vague memory of a kid named Jeff showing me his penis. I think that when my mom told me this I even said "I thought that was Jeff?" and then with shock my mom said "Did Jeff do something to you?" Immediately I recoiled and assure her "I must be confused". Right now I feel like I don't really know if this event even happened, I figure that my mom would remember me saying that, but I don't think she does. My mom was going through a hard time then though. I think she has the tendency to block out things she doesn't want to see, or at least she used to. Maybe this event has even been a blocked out part of her memory. The vague dream is no longer a picture in my mind, but more of a thought with only words. But what eight year old dreams of a boy showing her his penis.

I have the same pictureless memory of Jeff threatening me. Telling me that if I told anyone, he would tell my grandma, and that she would hate me. He told me that his grandma already knew, and that she hated me. My whole past seems like a black hole. I don't like writing about it because I don't know how much of it is true, but I think it might all be.


I used to be scared at night. I would bury myself under pillows before I could fall sleep. I don't know why, or when it started, but I feel like it started when I went to Texas. I don't know what I was scared of. A man with a knife I think. I was pretty scared of men in general at that point. I always had this fear that my dad was secretly video taping me. I had a fear of my dad that only grew worse. Ah man, I don't know where it started, and sometimes I really don't want to know.

When I was 17 years old I found out that Jeff had molested my older brother. The Jeff that I had this vague dream of. I knew that it wasn't a dream anymore, I knew that it was a reality.

At some point, when I think I was 15, I freaked out because I wondered if my dad was the one who molested me. I don't know how it happened, but at 15 years old, I started packing pillows against me, and hiding against the wall before I could fall asleep again. I spent two weeks afraid of the dark, and then it started to go away again.

I remember sitting in the bath tub staring down at myself. I don't really know why this moment is significant but it stands out in my mind so much. I want to know what I was thinking but I can't remember. I think I was eight years old at the time.

2008