Photographs and memories

I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to post this, it's very personal, but what the hell my opinions are as good as any...

I remember hallucinating when I was really sick, I never really understood what was happening until recently, I always just thought I was dreaming. In comfortably numb by Pink Floyd the lyric 'when I was a child I had a fever, my hands felt just like two baloons' has come closer to describing the experience that anything I have ever written.
The memories I have of my childhood seem more like dreams to me now, sometimes I find it difficult to discern what really happened from what I think happened. I'm not sure about alot of things. I remember my cousin molesting me and I remember asking for it, those are images to horrible to have been made up. I remember sitting in a psychiatrist office playing with something, and even now I can hear him telling me that what happened is not my fault. That was after Jason molested me, it's funny, I don't remember him actually touching me, but I remember always being near him, always wanting to be near him. I knew what I was doing, even then, I couldn't have been any older than seven, but I knew how to get older men to like me. I knew how to smile, how to laugh, and how to tease them. I think that after a certain point in a persons life they become aware, sexually, then that person ceases to be the victim, at least in the sense that they are robbed of the choice to do what they previously had been made to do. They are still victims though, they were robbed of their innocence, they were robbed of their time to be free of decisions like that. A molester is defined as a person who subjects others to unwanted or improper sexual activity, while the activity is no less improper, eventually it becomes, not wanted exactly (although in some cases it is, but that is another argument), but allowed. In a way a molester robs a child of their judgement, by bringing them to make a decision that they are not prepared to make. The decision is nonetheless made by the child, causing them to feel guilty and to disbelieve the psychiatrist's favorite way of reassuring them, by telling them that it was not their fault. I am not saying it was the childs fault, but I know from experience that it seems that way to them.
Molestation has many horrible effects on a child later in life, I know I am changed because of my experiences, but by coming to this realization I find that I have a bit more peace that most. And I find hope, and endless amusement, in the fact that I am very close to my cousin, the first person who molested me, indeed, he is one of my closest friends.