What you don't know can hurt you

I started to write a post about the second traumatizing event in my childhood, but I found it to be a lot harder than I had expected. Maybe eventually I will finish it and tell the full story but for now an abbreviated version will have to do.
I was about 14, I was at a water slide park with my family. A man by the name of Jesse, who was about 20 at the time forced himself upon me sexually in the middle of the pool. I was traumatized and humiliated. It wasn't until the next day when I went to confront him about it and he reacted with hostility toward me because of my rejection of him that I told my older brother Alex.
It is only now as an adult that I realize how much the sexual assault has affected me throughout my life. At the time it was the lack of support I received that broke me. My mother and Jesse's mother put us all in a room together and they all proceeded to criticize me, saying I had probably instigated it. He told them that I was flirting with him and I was just throwing a fit because he rejected me. My mom and everyone else believed it.
I felt sick to my stomach as I had to sit face to face with this man who had violated me so clearly and defend myself. Where was my support? Even if I had wanted the attention he gave me the gap in our age made it hugely inappropriate.
To say that this caused me to resent my mother would be an understatement. I felt a hot anger towards her. I was later forced to go to Jesse's mom's house for dinner, and she didn't seem to understand why that was a bad choice. Jesse wasn't there but his siblings had grown to hate me for the accusations I had made at their brother. The entire night made me sick to my stomach.
Without a true understanding of my rage and a healthy place to vent it I became violent. In one culminating moment when I told my mother I needed to get out of the house and clear my head and she told me I wasn't allowed to go I reached out and struck her across the face. That is a moment I will never forget and I'm sure she won't either. She called the police on me, told them she had an out of control teenager and asked them to come handle the situation.
It was moments later as I was standing in my front yard in handcuffs that one of my siblings came out of the door saying my father was on the phone. After a brief discussion it was decided that moving to Arizona with my father would be a better option than placing me in Juvenile Detention.
I eagerly accepted the alternative, feeling a strong desire to run away from everything in that small Utah town that had betrayed me. I had no idea that I would be carrying the darkness from it with me.