This is a long read and I don't expect a lot of people to read it but I hope at least one of you do.

My dad's father left him and my grandmother when he was a kid. I only heard one side of the story and it was always that my grandfather was a "piece of shit". I come to find out now that he left because my grandmother was bat shit insane and he could not deal with her. So, my father was raised by his mother and a grandmother and the result was him being a beta male follower with a nagging woman's personality. Therefore, I grew up with two moms and my father was more of a nagging woman than my mother.

My dad never taught me any social skills nor did he teach me to fight or stand up for myself. He pretty much let me figure things out on my own instead of teaching me and then would emotionally manipulate me when I made a mistake or something not to his liking. How the hell was even supposed to know when something was 'wrong'? He never taught me anything.

Which leads me to getting raped by a 55 year old man when I was only 8 years old...

When I was a kid, I was at a sleep over at a friend's house. It was a foster home. My parents were socially inept and did not see the obvious red flags with the foster parents. If they had done a lick of screening, or if they gave a shit about me, and simply talked to these 'people', they would have never let me be around them.

So, my friend and I were playing Nintendo in the basement and the foster dad came down and asked if we wanted some sodas. I said yes and so did my friend. The dad returned and handed me an open can. I thought it was a little odd because he handed me an open soda and no one had ever done that before but I did not think anything was wrong about it because I was only eight years old and did not know any better (another thing my dad should have warned me about but didn't). I drank and finished my soda while my friend and I were playing video games.

The dad kept checking on us during this time and would just open the door and not say anything, look at us creepy, and then leave. I found his behavior odd but I was too young to realize what was going on.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a different room on a bed, and I was in pain. My penis hurt really bad and I went to inspect it and realize that my pants were unzipped (I always zip up my pants after going to the bathroom so this is really weird). My neck was really sore too and I was laying on my stomach (I never slept on my stomach, ever). The room was dark but I rolled over to see a face light up orange from the person that was sitting there taking a drag of a cigarette. It was the step dad.

In pain from both my rectum and penis, I rolled back over and pretended to be asleep until he left. I waited until light started peeping through the edges of the window blinds so I could start to get my bearings. I was too afraid to turn on the light and draw attention to myself. I was on a bed in the same house I passed out in and my friend was next to me. I tried to wake him up but he wouldn't budge. He must have been drugged more heavily than I was. So, I just waited until some people were awake to ask to use the phone (because my dad said, "Always ask to use the phone at someone else's house - the fucking moron should have taught me that I could use a phone at anytime especially this time).

It was the step dad that was up first. I held back tears and told him that I needed to use the phone for a ride home. He handed me the phone and I called home. My dad answered and I asked for a ride home and started crying. The step father grabbed the phone and said, "He and my-friend's-name were rough housing over Nintendo." I put my shoes on and went outside to wait for my dad.

He picked me up and I was crying. He didn't even ask why I was upset. All I wanted him to do was ask me what happened so I could tell him but he didn't.

When I got home, I drank some water, went to the bathroom and had to defecate. I inspected my penis which was raw and in pain and noticed that there was blood in my underwear that had leaked from my rectum. It was really painful to go to the bathroom. I hid my bloody underwear from my mother because she would have seen it if I threw it in the trash or put it in with the laundry.

As an adult, I now know that I was drugged, molested, strangled, and raped. The cigarette that the foster dad was smoking when I woke up was a post-orgasm congratulatory cigarette.

The entire year after that I was plagued with extreme anxiety, flashbacks, PTSD, and I even missed a lot of school over it (I still suffer from all of these things). My dad just got emotional and angry at the way I was behaving. Not once did he even ask me why I was acting upset. All I wanted was him to ask me.

I still have never told anyone except the internet. I want to tell my parents so they know why I had so many emotional, self-esteem, and confidence issues but I feel like it is a waste of time because they never gave a shit about me before. Why should they now? Besides, my dad will just use it as ammo against me. Instead of asking me why I resent him so much and why we have such a poor relationship he continues to bitch out and just be condescending toward me. After typing that out, I realize that I need to tell him. Do I just fucking say it the enxt time I visit? I feel like my parents won't even believe.

tl;dr I can't kill my rapist as I had allegedly planned because I discovered that he died in 2005. The step-mom, his ex-wife is still alive but I really don't know if she was in on it or not so I cannot touch her.

Yes, I know that I need therapy.

UPDATE:

I sat down with my parents and told them and they were surprisingly very supportive and apologized for failing. They are here for me now which I appreciate. Typical of my dad to place the blame elsewhere... he said to my mother, "I told your mom I would be a bad parent." After grilling them a bit I forgave them.

Thank you everyone for your comments. I'm not going to be a victim anymore.