Trigger Scale: (5/5!) *****

This story is a recent flashback that I have had. I warn you that it is graphic, and will be triggering for some. It is my memory of what I believe to be an example of child prostitution/pornography and ritualized sexual abuse…

I am looking at myself in a very dark room. I am standing in the middle with crocodile tears streaming down my face, scared to death. No, that is not a good enough description. I was fucking terrified, but confused and enraged all at the same time. I am holding up my little white shirt, and someone is burning my belly with an iron, the kind without holes, which are nicer. He is simultaneously masturbating with the other hand. I cannot look at him, so look to my side.

I am standing in front of him while he sits in a wooden chair. There are other men around me, lining three of the walls, all sitting in wooden chairs. They are masturbating and making weird sounds. The sounds are making me scared. I feel dizzy and the room is starting to spin. I look at the floor to the right, in the middle of the ring of men and the one in front of me until I can no longer see or feel, or remember.

I am shaking and have the beginnings of a migraine. I feel nothing, but dizzy and need to take a nap.

My Monster Has A Nameā€¦ actually many. This blog is a safe place for me to share my healing journey from childhood abuse. The topics covered are at times controversial, offensive, horrific, and hopefully sometimes inspiring. Thank you for sharing in my journey.