I Didn't Know How To Make The Incest Stop

 My dad molesting me was my normal. He had begun sexually abusing me from before I could walk or talk. I remember. I was there. This happened daily or every other day for my pre-school years. Kindergarten it seemed to skip a day here and there. The incest grew more infrequent as I got older, partially due to dad being less sexually wanton and partly due to his finding and using other victims. My dad raped dozens of children within his own family.

I was in my teens and dad was still raping me. Once I started working I managed to find an older boyfriend in order to escape dad's house and the city he lived in. It's difficult to admit but I was so brainwashed and my mind so fractured by dissociation that the incest continued till I was in my twenties.

Getting married and moving away worked to quell it. Divorce and being unable to work forced me back to my hometown, even living within my parent's house. My mental illness and subsequent disability determination meant I had very little income and resources. I was awash in blackouts, anxiety, substance abuse and incest. I could not figure out how to make the incest stop.

In my early twenties, I began admitting myself to psychiatric hospitals because I wasn't able to cope with every day life. Each visit produced a different diagnosis along with new medications. I was seeking mental health care, yet the incest remained deeply hidden within my psyche and away from public view.

Even if the Incest had been in my conscious awareness, there was not a soul in my family who could have stopped my dad. I was unable to confront him alone. I could not figure out how to make it stop. There was no family member safe. My mother had known about the abuse thus agreeing it was okay, in my mind. She would be of no help. Where would I live if I had to pay for my own apartment on my meager disability income? Who in the family would even believe that dad, a father, would be capable of doing such things to his own biological daughter? 

One on One, dad and me, I could not make him stop. 

I was trapped with no way out.

I was 26 year old. My dad was still forcing me to have sex with him.

I had little money. No human resources to turn to for guidance or assistance.

I could see no solution. I would either be committed to a psych institution for the remainder of my life or my life would end by my will.

There was Only One Solution, I realize thirty years later. I had to leave my entire family, drive 120 miles in the dark in a rickety old VW Beetle that had only one working headlight, and throw myself upon the mercy of the psych hospital I had been to three times prior. From that point, from the in-patient hospitalization, what would happen after, I could not fathom. 

I escaped the incest. I ran in the middle of the night. I begged for admission to the psych hospital and I started, at 26 years old, I started talking about the incest and child prostitution that had been taking place since as long as I could remember.

The waking nightmare of incest and forced prostitution had stopped.

My new fresh Hell was discovering, uncovering and revealing the extreme extent of my sexual abuses.

I Survived. I did the only thing I could to save my own life. I stopped the incest.

After years of twice weekly therapy, I started publicly writing and talking about my experiences. I told my family what dad did. Most chose not to believe me, some even being others he molested, too.

Incest has been part of my family for at least three generations on my father's side as both his mother and grandmother sexually molested me as well. It's the Cavanaugh family way of life.

Stop Incest. Start Talking.

Five Siblings All Sexually Abused by Dad; Five Different Reactions to Incest

 Four of my siblings and my self were all sexually abused by my biological father on multiple occasions when we were very young, toddlers and grade school age. I was molested on a daily or weekly basis whereas my siblings were abused more infrequently, either weekly or monthly. Each of us reacted to our childhood sexual abuses in different ways upon reaching adulthood.

The oldest sibling turned to Alcohol and Drugs in the young teenage years. She has forgotten and repressed any and all memories of dad's sexual encounters, yet she fully supports and believes whenever I talk about it. She has continued to be involved with alcohol and drugs since those high school days. I give her credit as she has had a couple of long-term relationships that appear healthy from my long distance, outsiders point of view.  Even while self-medicating with Substance Abuses, she has been able to work and maintain a family.

The brother older than I, who was harmed the least of the oldest three, because the oldest two were programmed and trained to meet most of dad's pedophiliac needs and disturbed wants, was as an onlooker. He and dad reached some sort of understanding early on that allowed him to escape the more horrendous acts. Dad mostly forced him to be an observer so he would feel guilty, full of sin, and complicit. It worked. He, too, became heavily involved in drugs in his high school years. His saving grace was moving away to go to college, getting an education and becoming successful in his occupation. Thus, he is aware of the incest yet maintains a distance taking neither my side nor dad's publicly. He wants nothing to do with me lest I inadvertently force him to admit all that he saw and experienced. His tool to deal with the incest is Avoidance and Denial.

The next youngest sister who sadly shared some of the same "sold into childhood prostitution" at a few of dad's money-making parties, did not have to contend with weekly molestations. In that respect, I am grateful. She could verify my accusations because of the parties and the fact that we shared a bed and midnight whispers for many years. Her way of dealing was to take it in stride, not let it bog her down; just "let's not say anything about it" outside of her and I. Her way of dealing was To Let It Go. It did not affect her life on a grand scale; it was more a blip on her radar. And yes, if any type of Incest can be described as "minimally invasive", hers was. More power to her.

The youngest sibling that I know was sexually abused [because I either witnessed it, was a participant or they confided in me] turned into a controlling Anorexic. Their molestations were very infrequent as dad had me as his primary sexual victim. In a sense, They worked hard to be dad's favorite, kind of like a caretaker, second non-sexual wife. It was weird to watch the dichotomy of this man having children that met his varying needs in the most unhealthy of ways. This sibling's strategy was to love him, cook his favorite meals, make his lunches and rub his back when he got home from work. Endearing herself to him with her undying love and devotion worked for her.

Five Siblings. Five different reactions.

How a man can utilize his very own children to meet all of his adult needs and perversions is beyond the pale.

Very Early Memories of Incest, Childhood Sexual Abuse

I have started remembering my dad and the incest from when I was very young, before the age of 2.

There are no words, just pictures. If you took a colorful magazine full of pictures and randomly tore off pieces of various pages, and tossed them all on the floor, that is what these memories are like.

Small, rough-edged, pieces of things seen when we were with dad alone.

Lots of white. The white stuff that looked like milk but wasn't...and where that came from. That picture happened many times, like a scrap of the scene we witnessed up close, in our face, every single day.

That was "normal day"; words I hear from a child "speaking" in my head. 

This was a big part of my early toddler and pretoddler years because it happened daily, and was a pattern. 

I often wondered how I could ever relay, if there was anything to relay, regarding the infant sexual abuse because it was preverbal and what do infants and toddlers remember. Well, some remember men jacking off in their face.

Sorry. Not sure how honest I should write about what happened to me.

That was my dad. He raped and sexually abused babies. My brothers and sisters still love now dead dad. They don't remember what I say, what I experienced, and what I say him do to them.