Extreme levels of shame writing. many TWs.
I was molested by my father and then later in life came on to him, anonymously so he wouldn’t know it was me.
When my parents first started having marital issues (my dad coming out as gay 15 years into a marriage..), my mom used me as a total dumping ground, sounding board, so to speak. She told me all about his cheating escapades. His interests. His fantasies..
I previously had been molested via enema use from my father. Previous posts for details. This eventually escalated to me creeping into his work office to find videos of him. Which I did find numerous, and kept them.
On one level, I was disgusted. On another, my body responded. Both to seeing the videos and to hearing my mom talk so extensively about it. I kept videos, I edited them together, I masturbated to them. I went on his computer at night whenever I visited from college to check if he’d made more. He didn’t. I eventually got so disgusted with myself I left it alone.
Until one day I looked up my dad’s name online, and found that he had a secret porn blog on a site that’s now shut down, and I ended up making an account under a fake name and face to actually sext him. And he responded.
Then this past year while living with them again, my dad had stolen my phone and looked through everything, my history my texts etc. I don’t know if he saw any evidence of what I’d done, but whenever I remember that he probably did I want to kill myself. All of this has been burning a hole in my head even while in therapy.
