When I was a kid, I loved animals. We had a lot of animals growing up. I remember my house was like a zoo. Fish, hamsters, birds, cats, and dogs galore. One in particular made me feel so safe and protected. His name was Major and he was a German Shepard. My parents had to…

Photo by Angie on Unsplash This story is about a long lived childhood of constant trauma. Insomnia, panic attacks, psychosis, anxiety disorder, insecurities, silence, and self-harm are all the things that were caused by multiple experiences I have had. I have picked my skin until it bled, making me feel something other than guilt towards…

  At 8 I said “stop, that hurts”. He said “don’t tell anyone”. At 11 I said “mom, I don’t like when he hurts me”. She said “at least you are good for something. Someone wants you”. At 17 I left home. Four relationships later I found myself broken, angry, and pregnant. At 21 I…

The power went out tonight and my wife was in another city.  I texted her about the outage and she made a fairly innocent joke.  The tests went like this: Wife, “You could masturbate” Actually ever since I woke up at camp with a teenage [] Never mind. Ask me later. It’s not pretty. Suffice…

I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and rape. I was sexually abused at age 5 and at ages 11-14. My painful past, which I had largely repressed, spilled forth when I was 19 years old and I attempted suicide. The memory that led to my suicide attempt came flashing back was when my…

Dear Mr Lawyer How do you sleep at night? Do you sleep comfortably, in expensive sheets? Or restless and taunted like me? I know that job must pay well, but really. How do you sleep at night? Do you lie awake, tortured by the pain you have inflicted on hurt, vulnerable people? Or do you…

It has taken me 27 years to remember. I buried it so deep to survive. i have been told that the brain is amazing in its ability to protect. I believe that. All of the signs were there over the years. Bladder infections, unexplained bladder pain, interstitial cystitis. Anxiety and Depression. Promiscuity. Early drug and…

Twenty-six years.  That is how long I buried the memories of my abuse.  When my story dared rear its ugly head, I dug a deeper hole.  Intense anger, dig it deeper.  Trust no one, dig it deeper.  Heavy drinking, keep digging.  Promiscuity, deeper still.  My story and my abuser silently controlled me.  That ends now….

As I sit down to write this, what is weighing on my heart is that there are twenty-eight stories on this page.  That’s twenty-eight too many and yet I know there are countless more stories that would be here if only everyone knew this space existed and if those countless story keepers could all find their…

I was in 6th grade when it started. I wore butterfly clips and Winnie the Pooh pajamas. My priorities were getting the latest giga-pet and having the perfect color of bands on my braces. I had friends who talked about cool gel pens and tie-dye shirts, and I was being targeted. I didn’t know I…

I never thought I would tell my story to anyone.  Growing up in my family we didn’t really talk about anything- absolute WASPS, very buttoned up.  You didn’t talk about religion, politics.. and certainly nothing personal.  It just wasn’t “nice”, and if nothing else, we were a “nice” family. In our “nice” family we went…

I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t happening.  I suppose that doesn’t mean it always did.  Maybe I was safe when I was a baby. I don’t know. It was mostly at bathtime.  I can’t understand why my mom never thought it was weird that my dad insisted on giving me my bath every…