Archive for June 9th, 2010

*******trigger warning – ritual & sexual abuse*******

When I was 11, my parents decided to sell our house and move out to a rural area outside of the metropolitan area of the city. My father still had his business in the downtown area, so this move was going to mean a 35 mile commute each way. My sister suspects that this was his way of getting us out from under the cult. I have my doubts, but it is a nice thought. It just seems like, if this was a priority, I would not have remained a victim of those people for three to four more years before he finally took action.

Apparently, we were moving far enough away for us not to have to go to cult ceremonies any longer, so the cult needed to make sure we were too terrified ever to tell after we were no longer subject to their cruelty on a regular basis. So, they pulled out all the stops for our last ceremony. I previously wrote about this memory, so I am just going to reprint it here. I see no point in putting myself through this twice.

The cult leader told me that I was going to be “sacrificed” tonight. The ceremony would begin when he got to the smallest Russian nesting doll. He opened doll after doll, and it was excruciating never knowing if the next doll was going to be the last one.

He shoved the smallest doll inside of me and then raped me. After that, all of the cult members savagely gang-raped me. This involved both men and women manipulating every orifice of my body at the same time.

Then, the cult leader made me walk over to the bonfire and lie down on something cold (maybe a slab of granite??). He said that it was time for me to die. He held up a knife and gave a long speech, so I was frozen in terror for a long time, waiting to die. Then, he dropped the knife and told me that I was not worth sacrificing. I was not worthy. I was not good enough.

Then, he spit on me. The entire cult followed suit, spitting on me, urinating on me, and smearing me with feces. They kept this up until I rolled over and vomited. They collected my vomit to use on my younger sister in her expulsion ceremony. To this day, she is highly triggered by vomit.

When I recovered this particular memory, I couldn’t stop dry heaving until I actually vomited again.



Photo credit: Rosanne Mooney

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