Despite knowing I was molested for practically all my life, I passed it off as a twisted figment of my imagination. Then six months ago, I knew it really happened. Only now have I accepted that it happened. It hit me like a train and those memories have been haunting me since then.

As of now, the waves of grief and violation are becoming commonplace. I'm still getting used to the tumult of emotions. I really do want to tell someone. I know I have to. Like you said, I can see it eating away at my life. But until I can gather some courage, I'm stagnating, trying to stay aloft on my own.

I guess you could say, I'm trying to find some peace within myself before I tell anyone else. Letting it sink it and allowing the initial shock pass so that I can do this rationally. How did you keep yourself going throughout it all?

And you aren't being harsh at all. On the contrary, it helps so much. Knowing that others have gotten through this is like a light at the end of the dark tunnel. And its cool relief to my racing mind.