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I guess it started with my mom she was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder a while back but we always knew something was wrong with her. The rest of the family just assumed it had to do with her being deaf, or her divorce from my dad, but she showed little interest in me or my big sister besideds the basics and would sleep all day and rarely had a job.
When I was eight we lived in a questionable neighborhood but my mom did not put up any curtains. We lived in a one bedroom apt and shared a bed, one night a man broke in and raped me from behind as I slept next to my mother. I was momentarily paralyzed but willed myself to move when I finally could I looked back at the man and said "stop". He did and just laughed as he left. I called the police but only reported the break in. I did not tell anyone what happened. I decided I would just pretend that it did not happen and just push away any thoughts of it.
I did not realized the damage that had done till 2 decades later. I had stopped doing well in school, stayed at home most of the time, only felt comfortable socializing with family, and became addicted to TV. I was so imature I suppose from my self impossed isolation the I let myself be date rapped twice in my late 20's. When I started reading literature on rape I realized I had been depressed for 20 some years.
With the new violations came new symtoms I began to become very iritable, then the anxiety came, then came the fatigue. It takes me days to do and put away a few loads of laundry. But atleast now I know whats wrong with me and am seeking help although it's taking forever because I quit my job and have no health insurance. I do have a wonderful aunt who is helping me and I hope to pay her back soon for all she's done.