This will not be an easy thing to write but I feel that it has to be done. For 17 years I have been living this nightmare and the consequences were too much for me to bear. When I was 12 years old, I was sexually assaulted by my older cousin-who we all referred to as Beebo-on several occasions. The incidents had actually happened for a couple years but it stopped when I was 12 because my grandparents walked in on the final assault.
Rage and violence ensued. My grandfather threw my older cousin down the stairs, rushed down and proceeded to deliver a beating to him, the likes of which I haven’t seen replicated. My grandmother turned to me and started berating me and calling me a faggot. As if I had asked for it. Imagine what that does to a child at that age. There was a police report filed yet I only gave one statement to a detective assigned to the case.
I never saw the inside of a courtroom during this entire episode. I was not able to find out the consequences of my cousin’s actions until all was said and done. I was hoping he would go to jail for a long time. I was sadly mistaken. He went to a juvenile detention facility for a year or two then was released to a type of halfway house. Justice was not really served during that time of my life.
My grandparents decided that I was unfocused and that a shrink would be the answer. I had been seeing a psychiatrist from the age of 7 until I graduated high school at 17; however, during the time of this fiasco, it was decided that I needed to visit the shrink more often. Nothing this guy could say or do had any real effect on me except when it came time for him to dole out the Ritalin and other assorted mind numbing drugs.
It goes without saying that my grandparent’s went overboard. They constantly made me feel like I was the villain and that Beebo was the real victim. Beebo and his little brother were the favorites in the family. My younger brother and I were viewed as an inconvenience because our parents decided to they couldn’t raise us anymore, so my grandparents grudgingly decided to step in and steer the ship.
I cannot say with any sense of certainty that I’ll ever forgive Beebo. I don’t think I ever will. On that same note, could I ever forgive my grandparents for the emotional torture they put me through? Could I ever forgive them for taking the easy way out and letting a bottle of pills take care of my ADHD? What about the antidepressants I ended up taking? I cannot promise anything. I never know what the future holds and I am inclined to believe that I may never forgive them, no matter how smooth the waves are in our current relationship.