My time

Therapy can help anyone if they are wiling to put the work into, just like life is! I started seeing a therapist when I was 14 years old. I had situation where a man forced his hands where he shouldn’t, and since I was underage, it was called child molestation. I didn’t feel that was what they did, but law requirements call it that. When I started seeing the therapist, I wanted to help the man not get into too much trouble. I didn’t tell anyone at first because I was scared and embarrassed. Until I was put in another situation that could have been worse. 

I had left school late, can’t remember why, and walking in the rain. I had stopped under an awning when a familiar truck pulled up and asked if I wanted a ride home. Mind you, I grew up in a small town, twenty-three hundred population. Everyone knew everyone in that town and you couldn’t get away with much, gossip is like a wildfire for us small town folks. B, we will call him, senior in high school, on the football team, and I knew him and my brother Ben hung out once in a while.

I made the decision to get a ride, feeling uneasy but knew it was the other situation that could be “trigging me”. The therapist kept telling me that, even after weeks of no issues. That changed quickly when he missed the turn. I politely told him he missed the turn and he laughed and said, I know where I‘m going, relax”. I tried telling him my dad was waiting for me, I was already late getting home as it was, he will be worried. Nothing I said made him turn around, instead he parked at the public pool, unzipped his pants, pulling out his on-eyed friend, grabbed my hair and forced my head down. I fought with everything I had, ended up head-butting him in the face and ran like hell.

I ran all the way home, took a shower and went to bed. I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t know what to say or if some how I could get into trouble. I was willing to get into his truck, I could have said no. I guess you can say, that’s when the depression really hit me hard. I no longer wanted to hang out with friends, missed volleyball practice, missing assignments at school, etc. This went on for a few weeks when finally my parents had enough and demanded I tell them what was going on with me. 

I wanted to just avoid all boys and ignore it all together. I didn’t see my therapist much after that, I hated going to court and having to see them again. I just wanted it all to go away and everyone just leave me alone. I don’t remember what happened to either of them. I felt guilty about the charges on the first boy, but they did force themselves after I made them stop. Yes, I felt guilty for pressing charges on the first guy, it was so close to the second situation with B that made me spin out of control. 

I didn’t consider the first boy to be charged with “molestation” more of a “you know better than to touch young girls, you’re dad is going to beat your ass”. Me expressing my concerns were unheard, no one cared how I felt about what I put the boys through. Yeah, I said that, I could only think of what the boys (17 and 18) were going through, not myself. What their future will look like, did I screw them up?