I don’t really know how to write this.  It has been so upsetting to me, yet he needed to know, and his not knowing was also becoming a problem.  I was trying so hard to hide it all from him that it was causing him to wonder why some things were causing me to have issues.  

Yesterday I arranged for each of us to get three vaccines from our local Walgreens pharmacy.  We both got the covid, the flu, and the RSV vaccine shot.  Then today I went and got my three allergy shots.  

When I got home I started doing dishes, Ron talked about not wanting me to work so hard in the house, as he was trying to get a door up between our living room and the rest of the house that the Hurricane Ian ripped off.  But then we started talking.  And my world went South, East, North, West, and all over the map.

I don’t know how the conversation came up, but it had something to do with my adoptive family and the hell spawn that abused me.  Ron said something about one of the hell spawn siblings, and it just slipped out.  I really never wanted to tell him, I told myself I wouldn’t.  But dogs that love gravy I did.  

I told him how the hell spawn knew I was adopted, and because there was an ambiguity over if I was really a member of the family or not.  Because the adoptive mother wanted me, but it became clear fast the adoptive father did not.  He made it clear I was not a member of the family.  But when I stopped being a cute toddler, she lost interest in me also.  

But back to today.  Ron mentioned something from the hell spawn, and I just started to tell him.  As I have said in 2007 on our way home I told him I had been abused but never told him more details and he said he had figured that out.  But then he has lived with me having terrible nightmares where I relive being raped or beaten.  So really I understood he would understand.  He has woken me when I was begging or screaming in my sleep.

I am not sure how it started now, my mind is trying hard to bury it.   But I started by telling him of the Vet across the street that was fucking me at 4, then I told him the worst of it, starting with how the hell spawn daughter / sister who was in charge of us at night would get her boyfriend sexual excited and then let him have me to satisfy his need.  She got pregnant at 14 like her mother, married by 15.  Three marriages, two of her husbands would molest / rape me.  One of her husbands loved to play with little boys wieners, especially when he was inside me.    I told him how each of the male hell spawn of the family who were teens used me repeatedly.  And how they let their friends have me.  I told him one of their fun games was forcing me to the top of the staircase, then pushing / throwing me down it.  Betting on how far I would go, how many times I would bounce, stuff like that.   And then the most painful, I told him parts, but not all of the abuse by the adoptive father.  He more than any others enjoyed hurting me. Maybe because he never wanted me at all, but regardless, the things he enjoyed doing to me, I still can not face today.   

Once I started, I just couldn’t stop.  I told him of the beatings, the sexual assaults, the fear of them all, the time the one hell spawn I thought I could trust to be my friend lay on top of me hitting me saying admit your gay, admit your gay.  I was 5 years old and she was 10, and had no idea what she was hitting me for.  Then she said because guys fuck you, you play with their dicks.  What, why is that wrong?  It is not like I had a choice!  I told him of the beatings, and other attempts to break my bones, and how the hell spawn used me sexually.  I nearly broke when I told him how one of then raped me so badly, I described to him how I was then beaten for soiling my sheets.  One of the hell spawn like to pee on me at night to get me into trouble, and when I finally got a bed I would wake up to him peeing on me and I knew in the morning I would again be blamed for wetting the bed.  The adoptive parents either did not believe me or thought it funny.  

He already knew how until I was like 7 or more, I slept in a hallway, because as my adoptive mother told me I did not need or deserve a bedroom / bed like the other kids.   Often they would take me to their beds, and I knew the price for the privilege and yes I willingly paid it.   Wouldn’t you?  I told him parts of my summer in Canada, and he said it explained why I wouldn’t have anything to do with the adoptive father’s mother when I was an adult and she would be visiting.  I refused to be in the same room with her.  He always wondered about that.  

I could go on, but I got a lot of stuff out that I had hidden from him.   Then suddenly after I was done explaining everything to him, or at least a lot that he did not know, I suddenly had the fear I always have had all my life.  I suddenly worried he wouldn’t love me, I was damaged, I had been fucked by a lot of boys / men not him.  I was less than, used and … Hell and shit, why did I tell him so much I had kept hidden!   Why now damn it!  34 years I had kept it hidden … yet today I exploded with the sexual and physical abuse information.  I know that is stupid to think that way, but he never knew the details.  I had kept them from him, leaving it vague.  He knew I was abused, but not the details, now he knows details.  

I did not even tell him about the court ordered visits to doctors or therapist. And how the cop that escorted me used it to have a tryst with his mistress, with me listening through the open door, seeing some of it.  Thankfully I don’t remember him telling me to join them, but as conditioned as I was, I would have.   

But as I was getting to the worst of it he sat next to me, and then as I was starting to falter and feel I did the very wrong thing, he slowly reached out to me.  I realize now that he did not want to trigger me. He stood up, came over closer and gently hugged me.  I was trying to say I was sorry, I did not mean to tell him, but he just held me.   Then after he let me go he suggested I go wash my face but he told me as I turned away.  “I love you, I have always loved you.  This changes nothing how I feel about you.” He said a lot of comforting things, things like they can’t hurt you and you won’t ever have to see them again, some are dead.  But he knows they still hurt me, they haunt me.  The memories are always there somewhere, waiting to pop back up.  

He made me a small supper but I was so upset I hardly ate.   Then he suggested I go to bed for a while.  But I struggled to sleep.  He came down to check on me and then rubbed my back and arms until I fell asleep. 

All that happened yesterday.   We got up about 3:45 am because Tupac wanted food and then out to do what cats do outside.  I am fixing errors, stuff that needed reworking, then I will post it.  Ron is treating me really softly this morning, he knows I got very little sleep.   My emotions are all over the place, my nerves are raw.  Maybe getting it out, letting him know the details, maybe the memories will let me rest, let me be for a while.   I have a doctor’s appointment this morning.   Oh well.  Hugs to all.