Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sometimes....
My entire life I had to be strong, I had to fight. I pretended things were ok when they werent. I smiled when inside I felt like dying. I hugged others when all I wanted was to be hugged. I did what was asked of me when all I wanted to do was run and hide. I did what was expected of me when all I wanted to do was disappear. Sometimes I want to be weak, I want to take down my protective barriers and break down all the walls and just be raw, be free, show my hurt, show my fears! Give in to what was deep inside. Sometimes I dont want to fight the fight anymore. Sometimes I want to curl into a fetal position and have someone hold me and tell me everything is going to be ok. Sometimes I wanna do what I want to do instead of what someone needs me to do or what someone asks me to do. Lately I have been haveing a rough time. I am not sure if it has anything to do with my kids bdays or my own birthday. Tomorrow happens to be my birthday and I am less than excited about it. I want to just skip the day all together. I dont want to celebrate or do anything. The other day my oldest who just turned 6 was asking me about my birthday. She asked me who was gonna make me a cake, and I told her I probably wouldnt have one because I surely wasnt going to make my own birthday cake. She then told me that I couldnt have a birthday without a cake. She is sweet as pie, yet I wish it were true. I cant remember for the life of me ever having a special birthday! No big birthday parties, no surprise parties nothing. My 16th birthday I got snowed out of school, thats the only reason I remember it. My 21st birthday I got sick and was home in bed by 10, my hubby (fiance at the time tried) he took me out but I wasnt even carded. Now tomorrow my 30th, I am sure will be nothing different than say today! Dont get me wrong I dont think I want a party, but I guess I just want someone to think of me, to do for me what I would do for them. I want the chance to feel special! I sound like an ungreatful person. Lately I have also been thinking of the fact that my sweet babies, really have no grand parents, no grandmother. They have a wonderful grandfather, but he is often busy, and a great Papa. But aside from that ...... Makes me sad I guess, that the people who in a perfect world I should be able to call mom and dad are big ole POS's. Unworthy of my childrens love and attention. I could look on the bright side and say it could be worse, but right now this is what is worse for me.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The fights not over!
I remember when I first walked into the police station and told them I was being molested, I had to repeat myself before anyone seemed to understand. It was a giant relief to tell someone who could and would help me, but this is not where it all ends. I spend hours at the police station. I think I walked in around 7 or 8, it was right before my I was supposed to be home. I had to tell police officers what had happened to me all the while being alone. NO one was allowed to wait with me, no one there to hold me hand. This cheese stood alone. Eventually that night a social worker and group home was found that could house me for the night. Around 2 am I was picked up and brought to one of my states rougher cities. I felt like a prisoner. First the police questioning, the waiting in a room alone, then brought somewhere, where they stripped me of any belongings and possessions I may have had on me. I was to shower and hand over my clothes to them to be washed. I of course had no clothing besides what I walked in with so I had to borrow clothing, then was brought to a bed, a bed that was not my own in a place I didnt know. I am not sure I felt more alone.
In the morning, I was 'the new girl' everyone wanted to know my story! Why I was there? What I did wrong? You see the place I was brought to , wasnt a juvenille detention center at all, but most of the kids were troubled and had issues of thier own. In this new place, I had a new set of responsibilities but had to watch what toes I may have stepped on or it could lead to fights. Had to be careful who I looked at and for how long, what I said and what I did. It was a tough situation. At some point, one of the workers in the group home brough some clothes to me so I could change my clothes, I then had to learn how to wash my own clothes, had chores and responsibilities to do. Nothing I was familiar with. I also needed to be registered for school. Again being the neighborhood I was in, the school was just questionable. Took, over a week to get me into a school. In order to get to this school I had to take the city bus and transfer buses as well. Something I never did before. I was also enrolled in a program at "The Rape Crisis Center" again I was showed where it was and told I needed to take a bus there. I remember getting lost and the only person I could call was my mother to get me, not something I wanted to do.
Meanwhile, "paul" was taken away and brought to jail. I had to testify in front of a Grand Jury, where they asked me questions about what had happend to me. I remember being at the court house, he had family there, my mother was there, his exwife was there, his siblings were there, ALL for him. I had NO ONE! His exwife did come up to me and say she was there for me. But still I felt alone, I was quarentined or so it felt in a room by myself, told to wait till it was my turn. He walked, got a suspended sentence and 10 years probation. What a deal, I got 5 years with a suspended life time sentence he got a 10 year suspended sentence. Where is the justice!!
During my group home stay, my mother tried contacting me. The thing she talked about most, was the suffering her husband had to deal with in jail!
About 2 weeks after being in the group home, my friends family (the one I confided in) got clearance to foster me so I could live with them. They lived right down the street from my mother so I had to see her almost daily, even though the courts said we shouldnt. This placement didnt last very long, apparently they couldnt handle me and a few monthes after moving there, back to a group home I went. Luckily this time a different one. I was brought to one of the nicer cities . It was summer this time so no school. Again, my mother would contact me and discuss her marital problems, the trouble her husband had but she got him an appartment, she was in court ordered counceling herself but didnt understand why. She would drive up to the group home and leave cigarettes in the bushes for me. I was able to 'visit' friends ya know the ones that gave up one and couldnt 'handle' me.
In August of 1995 my mother completed her counceling and I was placed back with her. She had since moved and had gotten an appartment for just her and I. At first things were fine, but that was short lived, she started spending weekends over at his house, would sleep over from saturday night. I remember I had a job at the time and I couldnt work saturdays because she couldnt bring me home and it was too far to walk at night..... Then came holidays, guess where we went? To his house with his kids. Yes thats right. When I was 17 she decided she wanted to buy a house in that original questionable city where my first group home was. I refused to go, so her and my father helped me get an appartment.
Within monthes of her moving there, he moved in with her. Still during all this time she complained to me about marrital problems she was having. NO matter how often I said I didnt want to hear it, she continued to tell me about him. He was there any holiday she invited us to, she brought him and 'bobby' to my house to move things.
During all my foster care time, I didnt get to see anyone, no family came to visit me, no one went looking for me, no one wanted to take care of me. You would think I was the one that did something wrong! Lucky for me I had long since learned this was not my fault, and I did nothing wrong.
Finally 11 years after I first walked into that police station, she divorced him. Time and time again she told me she choose me, and stood by me no matter what. ROFL, thats a good one, how could she have stood by me when she was visiting him in jail, having sleep overs at his house, letting him move in with her. She didnt, she failed to protect me and stand my me.
For a while I still gave her chances, I let her be a part of my life, my husbands life and the lives of our children. Time and again she showed me her choices, like when she insisted on inviting her husband and his brother to my wedding. Just recently, within the year. I came to my senses, the only thing she ever did was hurt me my entire life. Use and abuse me, whether she realized it or not she was an unfit parent. In November of 2010 I ridded her of my life, told her I didnt want her to be apart of it. She hurt me time and time again and I wasnt going to let her hurt my children. They deserved better, they deserved people who were going to put them first. Her life choices have always been questionable, the married boyfriends, the marriages she broke up! I want me children to have good examples to follow, and she wasnt it.
Some days are struggles, some days are easy. But everyday I am there for my kids, I protect them, have their best interests at heart and do right by them. I cant do anything more than that. My husband questions my ridding her of my life because it was a sudden thing, but then again he doesnt know my story. One day I will share with him, but right now I am afraid of how he will look at me. Things are going wonderfuly, my children are thriving and each day I heal. I am sure there will come a time when they will question why my mother isnt part of thier lives, I will not lie to them. They need to understand a parents job is to protect them, watch over them, stand by them and be there for them. No one comes before them and they , those little beings are supposed to be whats most important, and by ridding her of my life I think I proved that!!
In the morning, I was 'the new girl' everyone wanted to know my story! Why I was there? What I did wrong? You see the place I was brought to , wasnt a juvenille detention center at all, but most of the kids were troubled and had issues of thier own. In this new place, I had a new set of responsibilities but had to watch what toes I may have stepped on or it could lead to fights. Had to be careful who I looked at and for how long, what I said and what I did. It was a tough situation. At some point, one of the workers in the group home brough some clothes to me so I could change my clothes, I then had to learn how to wash my own clothes, had chores and responsibilities to do. Nothing I was familiar with. I also needed to be registered for school. Again being the neighborhood I was in, the school was just questionable. Took, over a week to get me into a school. In order to get to this school I had to take the city bus and transfer buses as well. Something I never did before. I was also enrolled in a program at "The Rape Crisis Center" again I was showed where it was and told I needed to take a bus there. I remember getting lost and the only person I could call was my mother to get me, not something I wanted to do.
Meanwhile, "paul" was taken away and brought to jail. I had to testify in front of a Grand Jury, where they asked me questions about what had happend to me. I remember being at the court house, he had family there, my mother was there, his exwife was there, his siblings were there, ALL for him. I had NO ONE! His exwife did come up to me and say she was there for me. But still I felt alone, I was quarentined or so it felt in a room by myself, told to wait till it was my turn. He walked, got a suspended sentence and 10 years probation. What a deal, I got 5 years with a suspended life time sentence he got a 10 year suspended sentence. Where is the justice!!
During my group home stay, my mother tried contacting me. The thing she talked about most, was the suffering her husband had to deal with in jail!
About 2 weeks after being in the group home, my friends family (the one I confided in) got clearance to foster me so I could live with them. They lived right down the street from my mother so I had to see her almost daily, even though the courts said we shouldnt. This placement didnt last very long, apparently they couldnt handle me and a few monthes after moving there, back to a group home I went. Luckily this time a different one. I was brought to one of the nicer cities . It was summer this time so no school. Again, my mother would contact me and discuss her marital problems, the trouble her husband had but she got him an appartment, she was in court ordered counceling herself but didnt understand why. She would drive up to the group home and leave cigarettes in the bushes for me. I was able to 'visit' friends ya know the ones that gave up one and couldnt 'handle' me.
In August of 1995 my mother completed her counceling and I was placed back with her. She had since moved and had gotten an appartment for just her and I. At first things were fine, but that was short lived, she started spending weekends over at his house, would sleep over from saturday night. I remember I had a job at the time and I couldnt work saturdays because she couldnt bring me home and it was too far to walk at night..... Then came holidays, guess where we went? To his house with his kids. Yes thats right. When I was 17 she decided she wanted to buy a house in that original questionable city where my first group home was. I refused to go, so her and my father helped me get an appartment.
Within monthes of her moving there, he moved in with her. Still during all this time she complained to me about marrital problems she was having. NO matter how often I said I didnt want to hear it, she continued to tell me about him. He was there any holiday she invited us to, she brought him and 'bobby' to my house to move things.
During all my foster care time, I didnt get to see anyone, no family came to visit me, no one went looking for me, no one wanted to take care of me. You would think I was the one that did something wrong! Lucky for me I had long since learned this was not my fault, and I did nothing wrong.
Finally 11 years after I first walked into that police station, she divorced him. Time and time again she told me she choose me, and stood by me no matter what. ROFL, thats a good one, how could she have stood by me when she was visiting him in jail, having sleep overs at his house, letting him move in with her. She didnt, she failed to protect me and stand my me.
For a while I still gave her chances, I let her be a part of my life, my husbands life and the lives of our children. Time and again she showed me her choices, like when she insisted on inviting her husband and his brother to my wedding. Just recently, within the year. I came to my senses, the only thing she ever did was hurt me my entire life. Use and abuse me, whether she realized it or not she was an unfit parent. In November of 2010 I ridded her of my life, told her I didnt want her to be apart of it. She hurt me time and time again and I wasnt going to let her hurt my children. They deserved better, they deserved people who were going to put them first. Her life choices have always been questionable, the married boyfriends, the marriages she broke up! I want me children to have good examples to follow, and she wasnt it.
Some days are struggles, some days are easy. But everyday I am there for my kids, I protect them, have their best interests at heart and do right by them. I cant do anything more than that. My husband questions my ridding her of my life because it was a sudden thing, but then again he doesnt know my story. One day I will share with him, but right now I am afraid of how he will look at me. Things are going wonderfuly, my children are thriving and each day I heal. I am sure there will come a time when they will question why my mother isnt part of thier lives, I will not lie to them. They need to understand a parents job is to protect them, watch over them, stand by them and be there for them. No one comes before them and they , those little beings are supposed to be whats most important, and by ridding her of my life I think I proved that!!
Monday, January 10, 2011
A Mothers Love..
I have heard people say that a mothers love is like no other. I think I got short changed! I was 'loved' like I was just another. The only chance anyone would have gotten to get some 'love' from this woman was if they were a man and they could give her something. If you didnt have male genetalia you were out of luck unless you could give her something else. I know that is repetative, but she was a selfish woman, who I believe only had children, ok me for the sake of saying she had kids. She had absolutely no buisness becoming a parent. There were men in and out , now dont get me wrong this wasnt a nightly thing with a different guy every night (I dont think) but there were a few. The 'friends' she wanted to be more than friends, the sleepovers at men houses when all they lived in was a 1 room appartment, the ones that lived with thier mother still and sleeping at thier house, the abusive ones, the married men, all leading up to the pedophile, the best choice of all. I tell ya, when it came to loosers and low lifes she had a knack for picking them. Could spot them a mile away, and in turn they were led to her. Like a magnet!!
When I was 9 she married for a second time. Things appeared 'normal' at first. He had a house, 2 kids,had a brother living with him and a dog. The house was a mess and infested with fleas. It was in rough shape, but apparently she looked deep within and found the good!!
I cant remember the first time it started at 9, but I do remember other people being home. At first it was rare that we were home alone. The odd thing is, he didnt come seeking me out in my bedroom at night, it was in the livingroom during the day. I remember trying to hide w/ my 'uncle' his brother in his room, till he decided that he wanted some fun too. On both parts there was touching, showing, feeling.....
I remember, 'Bobby' taking me to the movies, and him touching me in the car, had me put my head in his lap and touching me as he drove. The other kids wondered why they couldnt do to the movies with Uncle Bobby too, but I guess it was my special trip. Bobby eventually got a girlfriend and moved out. Pauls daughter eventually got sick of living there that she moved in with her mom. He started to beat her, they tried to have a baby, she ended up gettting pregnant, but one day while I was upstairs in my room which was right across from thiers, they got into an arguement and he slapped her so hard he knocked her off her feet. Another time he punched her in the face so her tooth went through her lip, he took a sledge hammer to his wedding ring in front of her. There was lots of fighting and hitting.
"Mom' and Paul (step daddy) ended up spending beyond thier means, between house renovations, a boat, ect that the house was sold and we rented an house. Was 'mom' , 'paul, his son and I. His son was spending more and more time at his moms house. Money was tight so 'mom' got a second night job. Leaving him and I alone at night, a few nights a week. He would make me put red lipstick on and kiss him, thought it was great fun. I was around 10 at this time. He tried to do more and more. Tried to rape me, tried forcing me to perform oral sex on him. I remember 2 instances, 1 that happened many of times where he sat on my chest w/ his knees on my shoulders trying to jam himself in my mouth, I finally told him if he came near me again with that thing I would bite him. I am pretty sure that is the last time he attempted to get oral. Another instance was when he had tried bringing me to 'thier' bed and tried to have sex with me. I was I believe 10 at the time, I got slapped because he couldnt. I ended up with a welt that later bruised on my leg. This particular instance happend within feet of the 'gun' closet. There were always weapons around, hand guns, shot guns, bow and arrows. Kept under lock and key, but there! We lived in that house for a while and ended up having to move again.
Next house, it still continued. There was now penetration on his part. Never penile but w/ his hands and orally from him. Most of this, while my mom was right down stairs. I was a preteen/ teen at this time trying to hide out in my room or maybe watch tv in my moms room, but I was alwasy followed. As I entered into my teen years, I got curious myself. I was 13 boys were much older and 'interested' as much as older boys can be interested in younger girls. I had friends with older brothers. All of a sudden I realized I had a 'power' I possessed that they were interested in. I never had sex with any of them, but I did more than most 13 year old girls should have been doing. But I was able to say yes or no and decide what I would or couldnt do. I was smart enough to not do anything I might regret. During this time I was getting close to a friend and confessed the things "Paul" was doing to me. I would spend as much time as possible with friends and out of the house. I had written in a journal, that Paul was molesting me, my mother found it, confronted me and did NOTHING. Well nothing but hold it over my head. She blamed me for marital problems and one day told me " I was the reason her husband didnt love her anymore' At 13 or 14 I was to blame from my own mother.
On February school vacation when I was 14, my friend and I told her mom about what had been going on. I spent the entire week at thier house. I knew I needed to come forward , I knew I needed to get the abuse to stop but I was afraid. Sunday of that February vacation, I walked into the Scituate police station and told them that my step father had been molesting me from the age of 9-14.
I can only imagine that those that have never been through something like this, are wondering why I couldnt scream or say no! I did, but its not like that. I am not sure how to explain.
When I was 9 she married for a second time. Things appeared 'normal' at first. He had a house, 2 kids,had a brother living with him and a dog. The house was a mess and infested with fleas. It was in rough shape, but apparently she looked deep within and found the good!!
I cant remember the first time it started at 9, but I do remember other people being home. At first it was rare that we were home alone. The odd thing is, he didnt come seeking me out in my bedroom at night, it was in the livingroom during the day. I remember trying to hide w/ my 'uncle' his brother in his room, till he decided that he wanted some fun too. On both parts there was touching, showing, feeling.....
I remember, 'Bobby' taking me to the movies, and him touching me in the car, had me put my head in his lap and touching me as he drove. The other kids wondered why they couldnt do to the movies with Uncle Bobby too, but I guess it was my special trip. Bobby eventually got a girlfriend and moved out. Pauls daughter eventually got sick of living there that she moved in with her mom. He started to beat her, they tried to have a baby, she ended up gettting pregnant, but one day while I was upstairs in my room which was right across from thiers, they got into an arguement and he slapped her so hard he knocked her off her feet. Another time he punched her in the face so her tooth went through her lip, he took a sledge hammer to his wedding ring in front of her. There was lots of fighting and hitting.
"Mom' and Paul (step daddy) ended up spending beyond thier means, between house renovations, a boat, ect that the house was sold and we rented an house. Was 'mom' , 'paul, his son and I. His son was spending more and more time at his moms house. Money was tight so 'mom' got a second night job. Leaving him and I alone at night, a few nights a week. He would make me put red lipstick on and kiss him, thought it was great fun. I was around 10 at this time. He tried to do more and more. Tried to rape me, tried forcing me to perform oral sex on him. I remember 2 instances, 1 that happened many of times where he sat on my chest w/ his knees on my shoulders trying to jam himself in my mouth, I finally told him if he came near me again with that thing I would bite him. I am pretty sure that is the last time he attempted to get oral. Another instance was when he had tried bringing me to 'thier' bed and tried to have sex with me. I was I believe 10 at the time, I got slapped because he couldnt. I ended up with a welt that later bruised on my leg. This particular instance happend within feet of the 'gun' closet. There were always weapons around, hand guns, shot guns, bow and arrows. Kept under lock and key, but there! We lived in that house for a while and ended up having to move again.
Next house, it still continued. There was now penetration on his part. Never penile but w/ his hands and orally from him. Most of this, while my mom was right down stairs. I was a preteen/ teen at this time trying to hide out in my room or maybe watch tv in my moms room, but I was alwasy followed. As I entered into my teen years, I got curious myself. I was 13 boys were much older and 'interested' as much as older boys can be interested in younger girls. I had friends with older brothers. All of a sudden I realized I had a 'power' I possessed that they were interested in. I never had sex with any of them, but I did more than most 13 year old girls should have been doing. But I was able to say yes or no and decide what I would or couldnt do. I was smart enough to not do anything I might regret. During this time I was getting close to a friend and confessed the things "Paul" was doing to me. I would spend as much time as possible with friends and out of the house. I had written in a journal, that Paul was molesting me, my mother found it, confronted me and did NOTHING. Well nothing but hold it over my head. She blamed me for marital problems and one day told me " I was the reason her husband didnt love her anymore' At 13 or 14 I was to blame from my own mother.
On February school vacation when I was 14, my friend and I told her mom about what had been going on. I spent the entire week at thier house. I knew I needed to come forward , I knew I needed to get the abuse to stop but I was afraid. Sunday of that February vacation, I walked into the Scituate police station and told them that my step father had been molesting me from the age of 9-14.
I can only imagine that those that have never been through something like this, are wondering why I couldnt scream or say no! I did, but its not like that. I am not sure how to explain.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Power
A big part of being a victim or not is about POWER. Who has it, who uses it and how they use it. For a long time I gave up my power, not by choice! Then for a brief time the lack of power became a normal, so anyone could take it and use it as they please. Not sure the exact day, or what may have flipped the switch, it could have been slowly over time but I regained power and I took a stance. At first I hid with my power afraid to use it, as time progressed I grew more confident with having power being sure to never abuse it. Power is a mighty strong thing to have over anyone. Each person is affected differently by it, some accept it and move forward. Some abuse it and take from others , I beleive because someone took thier power.
I think for myself, that my 'power' was taken a long time ago, if I ever did have it. Then allowing things to happen to me, against me or even for me became what I was used to. I may not have been told to do something or not to do something but 'knowing what was expected' was how I lived. For those that have never 'lost' that power you may not understand this. Its a very difficult concept to explain I beleive. I can imagine some are thinking, How do you give up that power? Do you mean you 'let' things happen? The questions must be endless, and there is no yes or no answer. No I never asked for it, no I never wanted it but still it happened. Judgements are easily passed.
My 'loss' of power does not mean I am weak. Nothing about being a victim is about being weak. I actually beleive being a victim takes a very strong person. There is so much that is dealt with. The situations, the circumstances, the fears, the feelings, the emotions, the recovery, the power. The list could go on and on. Now that I think about it, I am not sure its so much a loss of power, its more of a stronger power.
Day to day I struggle with who has the power, for the sake of my children I hope it is I who have the power. Most days it is, but some days a stronger power sneaks over me. Like I said its a day to day fight. I know I do succeed on most days on maintaining my power, if I didnt have my POWER then I could have ended up in a bad place. I am not sure many people could have survived the things I have. Everyone has thier struggles day to day, yet I would never wish my life even on my worst enemy. From that I have learned, I have grown, and I have moved forward. I have the POWER!!
From my parents I have learned how to NOT parent, I have learned that children need protecting and loveing, now matter how much I may want to do things, my children come first. Thier safety, happiness and sanity is what one of my main concerns are. I dont think that was the case when I was growing up. Age has nothing to do with it because actually my parents were older than my husband and I when I was born, and I turned out just fine, I may have a few kinks but who doesnt??
I do still have more of a story to tell, and I am sure as I tell it memories will come flooding back as well as feelings. For this I am some what hesitant, but I am also hesitant for fear of judgement. I dont want to be labeled a victim. I may have been victimized but I am no longer a victim! I have moved beyond that. Dont feel sorry for me but suport me ;)
I think for myself, that my 'power' was taken a long time ago, if I ever did have it. Then allowing things to happen to me, against me or even for me became what I was used to. I may not have been told to do something or not to do something but 'knowing what was expected' was how I lived. For those that have never 'lost' that power you may not understand this. Its a very difficult concept to explain I beleive. I can imagine some are thinking, How do you give up that power? Do you mean you 'let' things happen? The questions must be endless, and there is no yes or no answer. No I never asked for it, no I never wanted it but still it happened. Judgements are easily passed.
My 'loss' of power does not mean I am weak. Nothing about being a victim is about being weak. I actually beleive being a victim takes a very strong person. There is so much that is dealt with. The situations, the circumstances, the fears, the feelings, the emotions, the recovery, the power. The list could go on and on. Now that I think about it, I am not sure its so much a loss of power, its more of a stronger power.
Day to day I struggle with who has the power, for the sake of my children I hope it is I who have the power. Most days it is, but some days a stronger power sneaks over me. Like I said its a day to day fight. I know I do succeed on most days on maintaining my power, if I didnt have my POWER then I could have ended up in a bad place. I am not sure many people could have survived the things I have. Everyone has thier struggles day to day, yet I would never wish my life even on my worst enemy. From that I have learned, I have grown, and I have moved forward. I have the POWER!!
From my parents I have learned how to NOT parent, I have learned that children need protecting and loveing, now matter how much I may want to do things, my children come first. Thier safety, happiness and sanity is what one of my main concerns are. I dont think that was the case when I was growing up. Age has nothing to do with it because actually my parents were older than my husband and I when I was born, and I turned out just fine, I may have a few kinks but who doesnt??
I do still have more of a story to tell, and I am sure as I tell it memories will come flooding back as well as feelings. For this I am some what hesitant, but I am also hesitant for fear of judgement. I dont want to be labeled a victim. I may have been victimized but I am no longer a victim! I have moved beyond that. Dont feel sorry for me but suport me ;)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
You decide where your life ends up!!
This is a long time coming. A place to vent and get thing out there. A place to share my story in hopes maybe one person can overcome being victimized. One person can make a step towards healing.
Healing can be a long and painful road. Some, most may never completely heal from thier endevors. No matter where you are in your story you will always hold things in the back of your head. The choice is yours on how you let it affect you if you let it affect you. Only you can make steps towards how you want to live your life and if you want to let 'the harmer' hurt you for years to come.
I have been a victim time and time again, been hurt by many of people, as my story unfolds I will be able to heal more and more. I have become who I am not because of the people and things that have hurt me but inspite of them. I decided I wasnt going to let anyone get the best of me. I was hurt for far too long and fought tooth and nail to be strong. NO MORE!!
I may have been vicitimized , I may have suffered but that has ended! I am a surviver, I fought, I struggled, I cried, I remembered but I overcame!
Some days are harder than others, some days its like nothing ever happened. But for me, I make the choice on how it affects me.
If I allowed it I could be an emotional mess, I could have drug, alcohol and many problems. I could have addictions. I could not be me, I could be a victim!
Healing can be a long and painful road. Some, most may never completely heal from thier endevors. No matter where you are in your story you will always hold things in the back of your head. The choice is yours on how you let it affect you if you let it affect you. Only you can make steps towards how you want to live your life and if you want to let 'the harmer' hurt you for years to come.
I have been a victim time and time again, been hurt by many of people, as my story unfolds I will be able to heal more and more. I have become who I am not because of the people and things that have hurt me but inspite of them. I decided I wasnt going to let anyone get the best of me. I was hurt for far too long and fought tooth and nail to be strong. NO MORE!!
I may have been vicitimized , I may have suffered but that has ended! I am a surviver, I fought, I struggled, I cried, I remembered but I overcame!
Some days are harder than others, some days its like nothing ever happened. But for me, I make the choice on how it affects me.
If I allowed it I could be an emotional mess, I could have drug, alcohol and many problems. I could have addictions. I could not be me, I could be a victim!
From my experiences I have learned so much. I am in no way thankful for the things that have happened to me, but if it were not for the things that I have had to deal with I would not be where I am today. I would not have the wonderful husband and children that I have.
The Begining
I was born April 1, 1981. Everything appeared normal, till as days turned to weeks turned to monthes, I still nothing more than eat 2 oz of formula and sleep for hours on end. Yes most newborns will do this, but I was apparently not growing out of this, I was brought to the Doctors, it was discovered that I was born with a hole in my heart called a VSD most commonly found in males. My parents were told, that in my plum size heart I had a hole the size of a nickle. Doctors wanted to wait till I was a year old to perform corrective surgery. Things didnt go as planned, at 3 monthes old I underwent open heart surgery to correct the hole in my heart. I was given a 50/50 chance of survival from the surgery.
Surgery was a success and I was given no limitations.
I survived!
My parents later divorced when I was 3, there are so many stories as to why I am not sure I could keep them straight, could have been any number of these stories I was told
1. mom slept around
2. dad couldnt keep a job down
3. mom occassionally had to much to drink
4. dad was an alcoholic
5. dad was a drug dealer
6. this one is my opinion but neither was fit to be a parent..
Anywho, due to 'dads' lack of a job 'mom' got custody of me. I dont remember much of seeing my dad growing up. What I do remember is growing up as an only child, in day care. Now dont get me wrong there is nothing wrong with daycare for those that need it, but its nice when parents can raise thier children.
When I was 3, mom was at a bar with me. *Yes you read that right I was at a bar with my mother at 3!!! Good times, lol. Anyway she decided she wanted to go for a ride around the block on a friends motorcycle so she left me behind with some friends to go for this ride. Well, a car side swiped the bike while they were on it, the driver went through bank windows and my mother the passenger flew up in the air , I am told over telephone wires. Driver was paralyzed from the waist down, and passenger broke her elbow and knee.
I went to live with my grandmother for a little while so my mother could recooperate. I dont rememeber this but its probably the best thing that could have happened to me, but like always all good things must come to an end. Eventually she was well enough to care for me. According to her I was such a big help because at 3 I carried groceries up 3 flights of stairs to help her out!!!
We moved around from city to city alot after that, I remember spending everyweekend with my grandparents , I do know I LOVED this. It is one of my few childhood memories. Aside from that I dont remember much, there are various pics of me sitting on santas lap in bars, yes bars!! Men were in and out, lots of 'boyfriends.'
When I was 7, I remember a friend, I think it was a friend with benefits she had. Anywho she liked to go out with him and leave his 14 year old son to watch me. With that came abuse number 1. From him I learned how to kiss, no not a peck on the cheek either, he would 'french kiss' me. I was made to sit on his lap and 'rock' around. I must have blocked alot out but I remember pants being unbuttoned , touching , but nothing went beyond that. I never told anyone about this experience, this is actually the first time I have gotten this out there or said anything.
After that I think mom got too clingy and her 'friend' got to his sense and they hung out less so Tony couldnt get to me anymore.
More boyfriends came after that, I remember sleeping over at boyfriends house, she still frequented the bars. I am not sure if I was in tow or not. She was in abusive relationships as well. There was one I think I was bout 8 ish. He would yell at her, hit her .Made her turn phones off then flip her under a mattress all while I was there to watch this. He beat her. The final straw for them was at 6 one am, we were going to meet him in a parking lot. He somehow ended up in our car with her in a headlock punching her in the head. I am not sure how but I managed to get out of the car and attempt to make a run for it towards the stores. Nothing was open at that hour. Eventually he got the $60 he had come for. Thats all I remember about that one. But was the last 'boyfriend' till she got married.
She met a man at her job and ended up marrying him when I was 9. Little did anyone know he would physically abuse her and sexually abuse me.
I am going to end for today because I have gotten out ALOT so far. There is much more to my story and in time I will get it out. But right now, my babies need me :)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
No More
No Longer am I your victim. No longer will you get the better of me. NO MORE. I am who I am not because of you but inspite of you.
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