Dans

Thank you so much, all of you. I couldn't take anybody to court right now. I'm not strong enough to go through all of that again. Maybe later on, when I build up more courage. Right now I should just get help. When court was over, my mother went home. The guy that did this to me was in jail for a month, I think. I had to see a therapist, but nothing changed. I didn't know why. I didn't understand what was really going on. I guess I'd been going through it for so long that I just accepted it. After the whole experience I carried on and it never really went in my head. It's just recently that it hit me pretty hard and all of these feelings came in, it was too much to handle. Sometimes on the weekends I'll talk to my mom on the phone. She's still the same, she sounds the same. After the guy got out of jail, she took him in. They're still together, and that really hurts me. I can't help but to feel so mad. What he did was wrong, but I feel like I can't do anything about it. After seeing what happened I just don't think I can really confront him and go through the whole court process again. I've been depressed because of this, can't sleep either. I just hate myself for being so insecure. My uncle's always told me that I could talk to him about this whenever I felt bad, but I never have. I know he's noticed the way I've been acting... I'm going to talk to him about it tonight when he gets home from work. I know I can do that, I can always talk to him about anything. He's an amazing person. And yeah, I'm a guy. My name's Daniel, but call me Dan. Thanks again. It means a lot, really.

I stopped writing, painting, and have lied to my uncle so I don't have to go to school. I was sexually abused for five years (9-13). I lived with my mother at the time and her boyfried. After they got married he began taking me to his room. I didn't understand anything. My mom knew about this. She had walked in while he was on top of me and didn't do anything about it. Nothing. She turned, closed the door, and walked away. I was only 11 at the time and she knew. When I turned 13 I finally had the courage to tell someone, one of my friends. I was at his house playing a board game when I finally told him what was going on. He then told his parents. They had a talk with my parents as soon as they found out. He denied it, and my mom rarely said anything. After a few months in court and having to stay somewhere else, I was finally moved to my uncle's house. I've been living there since and been pretty normal. It never bothered me. I'd go to school, do my homework and go out. Just like any other regular person. It's been a few weeks since I turned 16, and it struct me. I've been breaking down in tears for no apparent reason. Sometimes I won't even leave my room. My uncle thinks I hate him now, but I don't. I love him for being so great and bringing me up, but I can't even talk to him about it. Maybe I do need help, but I'm so scared and embarrassed, I feel ashamed. I can't even type this out without trembling. I can't get near anyone. I can't even kiss a girl. I don't understand myself. I'm depressed, but not suicidal. And even if I were, I'd be too much of a coward to go through with it.