Yes, this is my life

Child Sex Abuse: One of our societies dirty little secrets. Its a taboo subject with many misconceptions. The myths have stood for generations because people are ashamed or uncomfortable speaking about it. The truth is, its not your fault. You didn't cause it to happen. Nothing you can do at 6,7,8,13 or 14 can make a grown adult cross that line. You were a child. They may have made you feel like you came on to them but thats what makes a predator good at their job. They create so much confusion and shame that even into our adult lives we fear how others will see us. So we keep these secrets. Our secrets keep us sick. We can never never put it behind us and begin to heal and be whole again until we stare it down. We must commit to beating it. To do nothing is to let the predator win. Sex abuse is nothing about sex and all about power. When we hold on to the secret...they will keep our power. We must take our power back. Childhood sexual abuse can be defined as any exposure

I am constantly learning and growing in this life. I am always surprised. Things I thought I had long since buried resurface and I am forced to face them point blank. Today was one of those moments. It has put me in a full on anxiety attack. The likes of which I have not experienced in years. After I puked my guts out a bit ago the feeling lingered. I reflected and I have decided the only way I can make my mind still is to share. I have to type it out, get it off my chest and try to release the chaos that is swirling in my head. So bear with me, my mind is racing faster than my fingers can form the words. I got a friend request on Facebook a few days ago. I have seen the little girl post on my nieces page and assumed she was one of her friends. I was flattered and accepted. Over the next few days I noticed a lot of her status updates were sad, defeated and depressed. I thought I have to try to find out whats going on with her. When I clicked on her page I realized...it was my cousin

I spent a lot of time with my grandparents as kids. There were several times in my childhood that we lived under the same roof. These were the best memories. Our house was always clean, always smelled like baking bread and there was peace. I talk about my grandma a lot. Its common knowledge that she is the single most influential person of my life. I realized I haven't mentioned my grandpa. Its not that he was not incredibly important but more that he was a man of few words. However, when he spoke you listened. There were three rules in my grandpa's home. 1) Don't give the dog candy. 2) We are silent when the news is on and the third and most important rule was NEVER touch grandpas black book. It always sat in the same place. On the table in the living room right next to his recliner. It was small, and had a leather cover. It was worn and old. Just not being able to touch it made it interesting. After dinner and the news every night, he sat in that recliner under the lig