"No coward soul is mine, no trembler in the world's storm troubled sphere" -Emily Bronte

Hi. My name is Kristi and I'm nineteen. I've been through some therapy and have done some great work through one particular organization, but I've never written my story. I guess it's about time. I'm really scared.

The first instance of abuse in my life occurred when I was two. I remember being in the car, afraid to go to my relatives' house, just dreading it. I remember walking down the stairs and going in the bathroom. It hurt so bad when I peed. Teddy, my cousin, had told me not to tell, but the pain won out, and I called my mother into the bathroom. I'm not really sure what happened after that (my mom has a lot of interesting differing stories). All I know is that I never saw Teddy again, except in my nightmares. I do remember being on his bed, but I've never talked about that and I don't think I'm ready.

Shortly after that, my brother Gary started abusing me. I was about two-and-a-half when I told my mother. She tells me that she sent me to a child psychologist. He told her that incest wasn't important. I wouldn't remember and it definitely wouldn't affect me. We did play some sort of memory game, though ... so I would forget. But I loved the memory game so much that it was the thing that triggered my memories to come years later.

So my brother would sneak into my room late at night (my mom rarely left us alone cause she was afraid he would sexually abuse me), at least three to four times a night. At least one or two of those times he would rape me. And he raped me both ways ... analy and vaginally. I remember that he would choke me. I think that once I passed out.

I had this teddy bear that was given to me when I was two. He was a care bear named Tender Heart. I called him "tendie." He was my friend. He was always there when it happened. And he loved me so much. I kept him by my side every night until about nine months ago when I left him at my friend's house across the state. She won't send him back, even when I sent her money and everything. That's really sad. I call my inner child Kiss-T. She's really heartbroken over it.

Anyway, my brother Gary abused me at least until the age of eight. I'm not sure if it went on longer, I think it did. I remember once, when I was eight, it happening ... and I remember the next day at school. I don't know how I knew that was the day because I didn't even act or think as if it had occurred. My most vivid memory was this time when I was playing with my blocks in the basement. My brother was baby-sitting me and his friend was over. I remember the colors of the carpet. He called me over and then told me touch his thing and I did and then he made me touch his friend. And he made me put them in my mouth. And then he touched me and stuff in front of his friend.

Another one of my brothers sexually abused me. He never raped me. I just recently remembered about him. He used to squat and open his arms whenever he'd come home from the coast guard and I'd run to him. And I remember walking to him shakily when I was really young. He lived with us for six months then. He used to take my panties off whenever we played together. He'd make me get naked in my playhouse. Sometimes, we sit. He'd be in the rocker and unzip his pants. I'd sit so that I was on top of him ... not on top of his thing, but touching it without my panties on. And sometimes he would stroke me down there when he read me stories. My parents don't have a clue that he ever hurt me.

My friend's dad also abused me at that age. He was like the town pervert. He looked at me in this park once, forced my clothes off, and just stared. I zoned out. I remember him taking me in the shower with him when I was at his house. Can't talk about that yet.

As I grew up, things were a little off for me. I remember thinking I was absolutely going crazy when the flashbacks first started. I got suicidal ... and my friend finally told her mom who told mine that I remembered about the abuse. My mom admitted and told me about my cousin, but then she said, "Your brother never touched you, did he?" And I had told her he did when I was two, so she did know.

We moved. I became a little promiscuous. I didn't have sex yet, but fooled around, was really dependent on guys. And the depression started to sink in. We moved again. And it started to get worse. My sophomore year of high school, my relatives came to visit. My cousin, Adam, was there. One night, he touched me. I froze and went completely numb. He touched me for three nights. The last night, he tried to have sex with me and I finally kicked him off. Something came over me and I realized I had a voice or a choice or something. He left my room and I cried very loud. No one heard me. My parents found out, but didn't understand what was going on.

My junior year, I started going to therapists. I was severely depressed. I was in a car accident and suddenly I wasn't the perfect kid anymore and the depression that was always lingering hit full force. I had some really bad experiences. One doctor over-medicated me, tried to put me on an anti-psychotic drug after lying to me about what it was. So I stopped going. One morning, after a really bad night crying and yelling at my mom (who wouldn't leave me alone) that I DID want to kill myself, I just couldn't get out of bed. It was frequent, but this time my mom called the church. I ended up talking to a great priest, who helped me immensely.

By then, I was just at the point where I was stopping taking my sleeping pills. I had suffered from horrible insomnia and it was starting to get better, and that was the whole reason I almost didn't go on vacation with my best friend at the time. But I did. And on that trip, I met a man I considered to be a hero. He was just really cool, and I wanted to be like him. We never were really alone until the day before we left. And he was changing and everyone was out and I was downstairs. He told me to come watch or something. I laughed nervously. We all went out that night. It was really weird. And I can't go into it right now cause I know I'll fall apart.

Anyway, we were at a park, at about midnight. I needed a drink (I'm diabetic), so he took me. On the way back, he was talking about his wife and cheating on her (which he'd been joking about in front of her for the whole time we'd been there) and mentioned something about me. I thought he was joking like usual and made some stupid remark that I'll regret for the rest of my life. I told him that he hadn't made a move. He then led me up a hill (we were in the countryside and I had no idea where we were going. He said it was a shortcut). He kissed me and I froze. I couldn't believe it. I don't even know how he got me on the ground, I was so frozen in place. I do remember pulling my jeans back up and thinking, "I didn't want to do that."