When i was eight my older brother f***** me. for years i thought it was my fault because I hadn't fought or argued against it.
I never told anyone because I never thought it would make a difference.
I tried not to think about it for years and years but at the end of my last relationship I decided that I couldn't have relationships any more because every time I let someone into my life I felt like I wasn't fighting or arguing and just giving myself away easily like I did when I was eight.
Its been five years since I was last with anyone and now I'm worried that I might lash out with some random act of malice.
I'm frightened that I might hurt my brothers children in some misguided attempt at vengeance and the idea makes me want to go to some far away place and pick a tree to hang myself from