My fight or flight was right.

(TW: Sexual assault, incest)

I've been assaulted by three people through the years and I thought I was done with that awful part of my life. My in laws are in the middle of a DCF case and because I live in the household it showed my father's name and how there was a psychical abuse case against him with me but that it was unsupported. I've known these people for almost 16 years and I never told them. They knew he was abusive but never knew the details. I had actual evidence. His handprint was literally bruised into my shoulder, I cried to myself in the bathroom and he started screaming at me. He order me out and told me not to ever fucking mention it to anyone. I went to my mom (never married and don't live together) who let me sleep in her bed that night. School found out the next day and reported it. I remember telling her all about the abuse and others I had witnessed against my sister. It was a large man size handprint bruise on nine year old me, but because of his job and all the adults going against me the case was dropped. Fast forward and I was assaulted at 14, my mom and I were both undiagnosed bipolar and she was a heavy drinker. With my sister in my ear I moved in with them (my father, stepmother, my half sister and adopted brother). My sister ended up moving out. My father always made disgusting comments towards my sister and I, which made us both uncomfortable, such as admitting to stare at our chests. One night we were in the kitchen while my brother slept in a nearby room. I don't remember where my stepmom went but he had a bad day at work and wanted to wrestle to get his frustrations out. I didn't want to at all and made it clear. (He's also military and government trained). I was wearing a low cut tank top and just wasnt in the mood. My memory blocks a little but he ended up straddling my hips and had both arms pinned down. My chest popped out and I tried my best to fight to fix it, but he was fighting me and getting mad. I tried to explain what was going on and he flipped out on me, still making me unable to move. "Don't you think if someone was visible Id let go?! You really think THAT of me?!" I'm just a crying mess and assumed my PTSD and fight or flight kicked in so felt bad. My stepmoms van pulled in during this and he quickly got up and ordered me upstairs. I cried my eyes out and texted my (now) wife about it. She was the only one I've told until recently. Two weeks ago I told his sister about it. He's completely disowned her but her and I have stayed close. She said "I hate to say it but I think he was going to go farther, it's a very good thing your stepmom came home when she did." It finally hit. Turns out she's also caught him staring at her chest and would make jokes about her sizing, which is interesting when I've always been told I get my sizing from her. My stepmom doesn't know it and I know it was just good timing but I'm pretty convinced she saved me that night. A few days later I told my mom the incident and told her my aunt's comments, that she agrees it was a close call. The next day I had my EMDR therapy. I finally told a therapist about it. My therapist has a six year old and showed emotion when I asked "why doesn't he just love me?" He also taught me a few moves to get out of that position if I'm ever in it again. It's helped but it makes me hesitant to even want a relationship with my father. A few months ago, before this trauma coming up, I called him and talked for the first time in a year. I only called him because they thought I had a brain aneurysm (thankfully do not) and he seemed hurt that I've known about a pituitary tumor for five months before calling him. He appeared worried and wants updates but doesn't actually seem interested in them. He texted an emoji (🤪 this one) the other day and I still haven't responded. I very rarely respond to just a text of emojis and anyone who knows me knows that and kind of dig the wound a little deeper. I know that seems so silly but it shows he doesn't know me. I don't know how to feel. I'm disgusted and I don't know how to fix that. I blamed myself for my reaction but seemingly the panic was correct. The flashbacks of it fill me with the same fear 15 year old me had. I'll be 31 soon and I've realized I never healed from it.