Monster in my Head

I lived in Adelaide between mid year 2 through to mid year 5 (so, approximately 7 to 10 years old).
I don’t really know what was wrong, but I’m guessing my mum had some issues. She would never drive anywhere, stayed at home unless dad coaxed her out and had me and my younger sister in a home daycare thing after school every day. We’d go to someone’s house and play with the lego and watch television until dad got home from work and picked us up. We also went to this holiday care program, which i hated immensely.

The after school care program consisted of the main caretaker, D, her husband, M, and their two teenage sons, B and A. D, M and B were always lovely and I liked them. But A was a creepy 17ish year old. During our after school visits, he would stay down the hall, in his room, which suited me fine. Occasionally, they’d all come and visit us at my home, or I’d be sent with them on an excursion or something. Those were the times I dreaded.

A was a… well, he was the sort of person your parents were supposed to warn you about – nobody is allowed to touch you but you, thing…. But the assumed trust was there..

Over the course of a few years, he repeatedly used his trusted position to do things to me that I really don’t like to remember. Most of the time, it was just touching, which made me feel ashamed and naughty enough. While he had his fingers inside of me, he would often tell me to give him a kiss, which added to my disdain. He smelled of a particular gross musk and used to put his tongue in my mouth. But one day, that all escalated. He caught me in my bedroom by myself and he said he wanted to read me a book. I loved books, so I sat next to him. But he picked me up and put me on his lap. You can guess where it went from there… He raped me. I still don’t like to talk details, because it makes me feel dirty. When it was over, I felt like I’d done the worst thing in the world and that if I told anyone, I’d be in the biggest trouble ever. So I never did tell anyone. All because I didn’t know any better and felt like it was somehow my fault.

Soon after that incident – which could’ve been quite a few months, I can’t really remember time lines well – my dad was posted interstate. I was able to keep my “secret” and bury it. The trouble is, there are things – words, actions, sounds, mannerisms and smells – which trigger memories and feelings within me and it has been increasingly difficult to keep those things in check recently. Working in the same office as a man who has similar mannerisms and the same musky smell has made it near impossible to avoid. Which means more psych sessions for me and facing something I would love to just forget forever. I still can’t speak any of these things aloud. It’s like there is a physical force keeping the words from exiting my mouth. Nearly 20 years later, A still holds that power over me, but I am determined to take that power back into my own hands. This is one of my first steps – acknowledgement.