Welcome!!! Please, if you are new here, READ THIS FIRST!!! Thank You!!!

Thank you for visiting. Content MAY BE TRIGGERING ESPECIALLY FOR THOSE WHO HAVE EXPERIENCED ABUSE, STRUGGLE WITH SELF-INJURY, SUICIDE, DEPRESSION OR AN EATING DISORDER. Contains graphic descriptions of suicidal thoughts, self-injury and emotional, physical and sexual abuse. Do not read further if you are not in a safe place. If you are triggered, please reach out to your support system, a mental health professional or call 911.

All images and content are Copyright © to ClinicallyClueless. All rights to the images and all content on this site and on all ClinicallyClueless materials belong exclusively to the artist/author. No use of any content, commercial or non-commercial is permitted without written consent from the author and artist.

Disclaimer: Although I have worked with persons with mental illness for twenty years, I do not have a Master's Degree or a license. This is not meant to be a substitute for mental health care or treatment. Please obtain professional assistance from the resources listed on the right of the page, if needed. And call 911 if you or someone is in immediate danger.

A key word that you will see:

Fragmentation: a mental process where a person becomes intensely emotionally focused on one aspect of themselves, such as “I am angry” or “no one loves me,” to the point where all thoughts, feelings and behavior demonstrate this emotional state, in which, the person does not or is unable to take into account the reality of their environment, others or themselves and their resources. This is a term that my therapist and I use and is on the continuum of dissociation.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Hidden Pieces ~ Sexual Abuse ~ Continues

***TRIGGER WARNING*** ***TRIGGER WARNING*** (Graphic Sexual Abuse)

I decided to begin retelling what I wrote to my therapist and I in the Winter/Spring of 2007 after four years of intense flashbacks and repressed memories emerging. [Current commentary is in brackets.] I wrote my seventy page "biography" because I needed to write out what I remembered and what I experienced to make it more "real" rather than a "story." I am ready to take the next step and putting more of it in my blog. This was the original reason for starting my blog and using my journal as a starting point. I am still struggling with believing that the following is the truth of my life:

Somewhere during first or second grade, I began spending more time at my step-father's parent's home. Neither worked, I know she had a neurological disease and was paid as a psychic reader, so there were a lot of “hippy people” in and out of the house. The radio or the television was extremely loud to the point that you could hear details before you got out of your car. My step-father always liked the radio or television loud and spoke very loudly. There was so much noise at their place between the television, radio and the number of people speaking loudly it was really overwhelming and hurt my ears.

Along with that was too much perfume and cologne that my step-father's parents wore along with the smell of incense and marijuana. At home, it was hidden cigarettes that my mother smoked and incense and sometimes marijuana. I wonder if that is why I am so sensitive to odors especially the ones mentioned. Marijuana makes me really nauseated and I have thrown up before. [Currently, I cannot be around anything secented with out getting sick. My allergist said that I just need to avoid almost everything. This creates much anxiety when I have to be in places where they are people. At the very least, I get a sinus headache and migraine.]

At first my step-father, began raping me at home and in his van when my mother was not around. He was quite rough and seemed like he just really wanted to hurt me. It was almost like all of his anger and hatred of me went into every thrust he made…felt like he was actually trying to physically cause me as much pain as possible. He was assaultive and sadistic and raped me numerous times.

While in the van, my step-father would sometimes forcibly hit my head on the windows and the engine cover. It was like the more pain he thought I was in the happier it made him. I was really afraid he was going to kill me or that I would die. Sometimes, I wanted to die it hurt so much and I just wanted it to stop. But, I still never made a sound, cried, fought back, said anything to stop it or told anyone about it.

Soon after, my step-father and his father began raping me in a much more sadistic and humiliating ways. They began to penetrate me both vaginally and anally with their penis and objects including a hammer, screwdriver, brush, broom handle, kitchen utensils, and maybe other items. Sometimes, he would have me stand which was more painful as it seemed harder for him to insert either himself or the objects. Some of the time, he would have me lie face down on the bed with my legs hanging from the bed. I can feel the tearing of skin and blood especially at first.

At home with my step-father, I remember feeling the pattern of the bed spread on my face and sometimes, I would bite into it because it hurt so much I wanted to cry, scream and tell him to stop, but I would not dare to do so…too afraid that it would just enrage him more and that he might kill me. At his parents’ house, sometimes it was on my step-father’s bed with the blue comforter that didn’t have a pattern. I remember in both settings that I not only bite into the bed covering, but I also dug my nails into it. It just dawned on me that maybe this is why I dig and dug my nails into my own skin…it makes it easier to endure even just talking which is extremely painful at times.

Also, I wonder if this has to do with my arm being grabbed by my father, my mother, my step-father or his father  either while being verbally or physically assaulted, beaten or sexually abused? My mother says that I have always had problems with constipation for which she never took me to the doctor. My first exam regarding constipation was when I was an adult and completely responsible for my own health needs. I also have never been able to urinate if I am not comfortable with the environment no matter how much pain. (After sharing this, I immediately felt bad and angry at myself for letting them do those things to me…you said that I was forced, not a willing participant…also, that sometimes you just cringe knowing what I am going to need to say next. Felt comforted and understood.) [Currently, I do not blame myself most of the time. I am beginning to accept that there was nothing I could have done. Yes, the reality of possibly being killed is real.]


Anonymous said...

Once again, CC, I am outraged about the things that happened to you. You deserved a childhood, not to be raped and abused. I am so sorry you had to endure these things. I give you a lot of credit for being able to share this.

Wishing you well,

Grace said...

I am so sorry for all you endured. I read your blog, but rarely comment, I'm not sure why. But I feel compelled to leave a comment tonight. You are so so very brave in sharing this. And tonight you have spoken to me through this post. I too know the pain of abuse, and I nkow the pain of continuing to blame myself for being abused.
Thank you...just thank you....for sharing - tonight it has made me feel less alone.

Clueless said...


Thank you. It has taken me a long time to have the courage to post these. I'm glad that I have because it has been quite therapuetic.

Take Care,


Thank you for following my blog and leaving a comment even though it isn't your usual way. I am glad my post helped you not to feel so alone. Your comment has helped me not to feel so alone. Your comment has helped me to know that I have done the right thing by sharing.

Take Care,

Search This Blog