It was mid-afternoon and I just came inside the house where my cousin was living. He called me over to his room, but once I was in, he closed the door behind him.

I was only 8 years old and didn't know what was happening or what he was doing. I hadn't been though any sex education and I hadn't reached puberty yet.

What he was doing was strange, but I thought, "This is my cousin, he couldn't do anything wrong to me." But when I discovered what he was doing, I was horrified.

He didn't stop molesting me for more than a year and I kept it a secret for more than nine years.

The pain he caused hurt more everyday and I saw no end to the suffering. I prayed everyday for life to become better.

Over the years I learned not to believe in 'better'

I became overweight so I would not be desirable. My grades fell and I was removed from the honors program. I became quiet and would isolate myself, especially when I started at a new school where I knew no one and looking white made you the minority. I soon discovered how despised being white made you.

I was bullied in middle school for being quiet, fat and white. I learned that hate allowed them to taunt and beat me. With all I felt, I never hated anything but myself.

Once I realized that, I started to hate more. I began to hate everyone who made me a target.

I began to exercise so I would never be a victim again. I fought everyone who attacked me and gained enough respect for the fighting to die down.

But the fighting only kept me occupied.

I sought out unhealthy relationships. I was unsure whom I could trust and ended up trusting no one. I felt alone.

All I wanted was to die so the pain would finally be over, though obviously my attempts at suicide never succeeded. I think in my case, a 12-year-old simply does not know how to take his own life, because I certainly wanted to die.

I tried to drown myself in the bathtub and hang myself from planter hooks in the ceiling. The only outcome was soreness. Though physical pain meant nothing to me - it only reminded me I was still alive.

I spent every day and every night crying and begging God to take my life. But I could only cry for so long, and by the time I was 14 years old I could not feel anything at all. Not pain, not hate, nor joy or happiness.

When I looked at my life I realized to feel hatred was still better than to feel nothing.

It was when I entered high school I gained more perspective.

I met Candice my freshman year at Pueblo High School, who was always laughing and smiling. Regardless of her problems she seemed so happy, and I thought maybe life could be something besides pain.

For the first time in a long time, I was becoming happy again. Just being around her brought out a happy part of me.

She was the best friend I have ever had.

The lasting good since meeting her is I never had another suicidal thought. Despite the difficulties, I understand now a "better" does exist.

I still have problems that were developed years ago - I seek out abusive relationships where I am the one being emotionally or physically demeaned.

I still do not trust anyone and when I look at myself, all I see is an overweight, hideous excuse for what should be a man.

Because of what my cousin did, I begged for death, then for life when I wanted a normal life so badly. In the end, I begged for the ability to feel something besides pain and hatred, which I felt for myself when I could feel no other emotions.

But I no longer feel afraid to be honest. Nothing can happen now that is worse than what I have already been through.

But recovery is a slow process

It took me until last May to actually file a report against my cousin. The process took about an hour, at the end of which I was given a blue pamphlet with my case number and the number to call if I had not been contacted within a week's time.

Unfortunately the statute of limitations had run out and there was nothing they could do to help. Which is why time is so important. The first 72 hours after an assault are referred to as the "most important" by police officers and counselors.

I missed the collection of evidence time frame by about a decade.

Even though the police could not help me, I gained a measure of satisfaction from filing the report. Being able to stand up and do it by myself, albeit over a decade after the fact.

I am not as angry as I used to be; a lot of my hate is gone

I only have a single fear left, and that is of others being sexual assaulted.

It terrifies me, not only because of what occurred but because some people don't seek help.

Tina Tarin, Violence Prevention Specialist, and Christopher Scheopner, a UAPD police officer, both said there is a small percentage of victims who are willing to prosecute their attackers.

Instead, victims of assault can develop self-destructive behaviors in an attempt to cope with their pain. Self-injury can take many forms, including cutting to isolation.

"Sometimes (victims of sexual assault) develop depression, anxiety, they also can begin cutting," Tarin said. "It presents itself somewhere, be it in difficulties with attachments, an inability to become close to others or anger issues."

When someone self-injures, Tarin said, it is usually an attempt to feel in control of his or her body again. It is the idea, if something is going to happen to, they will be in control of it.

Other times, self-harm is simply to feel any sensation at all. When most other emotions have long left the victim, self-injury becomes one way for them to feel again, Tarin said.

Sexual abuse can often instill a fear in the victim, the fear of openly discussing their experiences. In my experience, I started to believe the attack was my fault and I let it happen because I didn't take action to stop it.

I thought others would blame me, nothing would happen to my attacker, and my family and friends wouldn't believe me. I thought I would be alone.

Though it is hard for some victims to believe, there is nothing to fear from being open about one's abuse and there is a lot to be gained from reporting an attack.

That's not to say some of your fears will not come true. I can't promise your friends and family will understand, and I can't promise your attacker will be put away for the rest of his or her life.

However, the pain and suffering you have already endured is a testament to the strength you have and what you can withstand.

But that's something I had trouble believing.

-Jacob Konst is a studio art junior. He can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.