Destructive thoughts

I am angry. I am angry with myself. I could have and I should have had enough courage to tell someone. I should have been more brave. I should have better protected my siblings.

I am angry. I am angry with him. He could have and he should have controlled himself. He should have not taken things that did not belong to him. He should have cared about us the way he was supposed to.

I am angry. I am angry with her. She could have and she should have seen the signs. She should have believed us. She should have been the mother that I so desperately wanted and needed.

The first time I was consumed by such indignation was when my family member only a few years older than me wanted to play a game that was not fun for anyone but him. For purposes of this piece of writing (and to legally protect myself from him retaliating) I will give him an alias. His alias will be "Treyton". I have always found ways to "sugar-coat" what happened to me. Treyton did label the abuse as a game, but that is not what it was. I was sexually abused by him. Taken advantage of by my own family member. I was angry at myself for letting him and not speaking up. I was angry at him for lacking self control or an ounce of compassion. I eventually had enough courage to tell. I told my mom... she told me I needed to use protection. This went on for awhile until we were separated and he no longer had the opportunity to hurt us anymore.

I thought I would never be so timorous again if a situation similar ever came about. I was too optimistic for myself. A couple years later while in foster care it happened again. Once again this perpetrator will be given an alias, "Trevin". I will refrain from downplaying the pain that came from this person. I loved this person as if he was a brother. He manipulated and availed myself and multiple others (for their own privacy and healing I will not name them). I was angry at myself for once again being a coward. I was angry at him for being so selfish and uncaring. Once someone had finally told of this "little secret" they were called liars. The situation was unbelievable even after I backed up this persons claim and admitted Trevin had sexually abused us for years. His youngest victim was in first grade. His oldest (that I know of) was myself and I was in sixth grade. The others were in between those two. There is a term for a serial killer... is it proper to label someone has a serial sexual abuser?

I am tired of letting such destructive thoughts of anger, fear, and guilt consume my mind. I am not in the wrong. I am not what happened to me and I will use what happened as motivation to save others from enduring the same situations.

I have decided if I speak loud enough people have no choice but to listen. I don't write this to have pitty from anyone. I write this to raise awareness. Sexual abuse can happen to anyone by anyone. Parents, guardians, teachers, therapists, grandparents, aunts, uncles, anyone that has a voice... PLEASE learn the signs to sexual abuse. Do not be so gullible to believe it can not happen to you or your loved ones.

If you or someone you know is being sexually abused or you suspect are being abused please reach out to someone. You can reach out to me or the local police station. You can also utilize the National Sexual Assault Hotline. All resources will be listed below.

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Kirsten Wills-Ashlock email: [email protected]

Elizabethtown Police Department: (270) 765-4125

NSAH: (800) 656-HOPE

https://www.rainn.org/about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline

https://www.earlyopenoften.org/get-the-facts/signs-of-sexual-abuse/