Thanks willsurvivethis
I am so sorry for what you have experienced in your life, it just seems so unfair
The abuse I know I suffered is bad enough. He called me fat and told me I was a fake and a phoney - that the only reason people liked me was because they didn't know the real me. He controlled my weight, my eating habits and pressured me to succeed in sport to make up for his lost dreams. He sulked, raged and threatened often.
I self harmed and had disordered eating in my teens. I was promiscuous at times as well. I realise now that I always suffered periods of depression and anxiety. My only saving grace was that I got away to university and met my wonderful dh.
My adoptive mum (my maternal grandmother) was passive and enabled the abuse. She too was narcissistic and at times abusive mentally as well. When I showed her the cuts on my arm she pretended it hadn't happened, now she denies I showed her. Tells me this is all in my head - that I have a vivid imagination and I am too sensitive.
I know he was mildly inappropiate at times in my teens - a pat on the bum or a look that just didn't seem right. He would sometimes make me try on new clothes and parade in front of him, make me turn while he inspected every inch of me. Partly to make sure I wasn't too fat but I remember my skin would crawal and I would feel uncomfortable - it felt pervy at times.
The memory which flashes back is from when I was about 8 years old. I remember wanting him to undress me after school. I have always interpreted it as a sort of attention seeking regression in my behaviour. Quite common for children to do. However I remember a feeling of doing it to please him, like I wanted him to look at me - like I was flirting with him.
All this time I took that as gospel until something clicked and I realised 8 year olds don't flirt with their parents. It almost felt like I was enticing him and I know this is wrong. Then flashbacks started (this is the bit which I am not sure is true) of him actually touching my breasts and a sensation that makes me flinch and push the memory away like I don't want to take it further.
I remember how old I was and that it was after school. It is in my old bedroom and I am sure no one else is in the house. He is sitting on my bed and I am standing in front of him.
I have no other memories as such and whilst I am not sure about the actual touching I know he undressed me and I know the sensation of thinking he wanted to look at me. I was always desperate for his love and I was vulnerable.
This is not enough to start making accusations but it is something I have to explore for my own peace of mind.
It is also at this time that I wrote a sex act on a bit of paper which my grandmother found in my bag. My memory is that I had no idea what it meant but had been prompted to write it down by a school friend (who maybe had an older sibling who knew about such things). My parents shut me in my room every night for about a week and made me eat my tea there. They treated me as dirty and inappropiate. I realise now this was an abusive reaction but they were always strangely prudish about sex but at the same time inappropiate - I can't really explain it. When I got my first period my grandmother reacted as if it was something dirty and horrid and made me wear a sanitary pad attached to an old sanitary belt she made. She would not buy me normal pads or tampons and it was terrible