This is my homework given to me by my therapist last Tuesday. As you could tell I was not too anxious to get started.
We are going to be examining in-depth my abuse as a child. I still find it difficult to talk about and even write about. I don’t really remember very much detail, just a couple of incidents stick out in my mind.
I don’t remember how old I was, what year it was, or how old my brother was. I do believe that it all took place when we lived in California. I know that I was 8 1/2 years old when we moved from California to Illinois. It doesn’t seem that long from when we moved to Illinois that my brother got married and I’m pretty sure it all happen before then.
I don’t remember how it started or how he got me into his bedroom. I know that it all took place in his bedroom. I remember he used to take me for rides in his car and he used to buy me candy. He would babysit me sometimes when our parents went out. That’s when it would usually happen.
I guess it’s important to note that my brother is 10 years older than me.
I remember being on his bed and he would make me let him stick his penis in my mouth. I remember that he seemed large and that he had gone through puberty. He would make me take off my pants and underwear so he could perform oral sex on me. I know that this happened more than once because I remember an incident where I had to go to the bathroom first and he said “make sure you wipe good” I replied “I know”. That makes me feel like I knew the routine of what I had to do. He also would give me silver dollars afterwards, I guess as a bribe to keep my mouth shut. I had three or four. This was verified to me by my niece, whom he also abused During their counseling he admitted to bribing someone, never saying who, with silver dollars.
The only other time I distinctly remember is the time we got caught. We were on his bed, I think I had my pants off, when our mother opened the door to come in. In a split second he pushed me off the other side of the bed. I put myself together while he talked to our mother.
I don’t know what happened afterward. I don’t remember being talked to about it. I don’t remember him being in trouble. I remember him spending that summer with our grandparents at their lake house.
This is the account of my sexual abuse by my brother, the best I know it.