I have a lot of memories floating around in my head. A lot of them are dark and twisted. Some are incredibly perverted. But there is one that stands out above the rest. One so sick, I have only spoken about it once to Aaron. I tried to talk to a therapist about it once, but it was at the end of the session and she cut me off without ever revisiting it. It's not something I like to think about, but for some reason it's been on my mind more lately, perhaps because I have been wanting to share it with my current therapist.
Unfortunately, I cannot share all the details of this event publicly, or share why it was so horrifying. I can tell you that I was around 12 years old, around the same age as the incident when my sisters and I were sleeping in the living room.
The way our house was arranged at that time, you could see the staircase in the foyer from my mom's chair in the living room, up to the landing. On this occasion, I was sitting in Mom's chair while she was upstairs in her room napping. My step-dad was standing on the landing in clear view of me masturbating into a saucepan.
The crazy thing was, all Mom had to do was open her door and she would have seen him. He had nowhere to hide from there. He also seemed to have no REAL fear of being caught. (More on this part later...)
That is all I can really share of this story. There is more to it, but this is all I can share publicly. I brought it up today in therapy, and (this) therapist was completely empathetic and understanding of the implications of everything that happened. Truthfully, it feels good to finally feel like that box has been opened and explored. It's too ugly to keep inside myself.
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