by S
(Pennsylvania, USA)
I don't even know where to begin. My parents got a divorce when I was 5 years old. I was left with my mom and it was very hard because me and my dad were very close. Everything was going great for awhile and then my mother got depressed. Me and my older sister were left home alone a lot because my mom went out to a bar. My sister was like 14 @ the time and I was 5 . She used to throw wild parties with her best friend and a bunch of guys. I remember being tortured by them. They used to drink and do drugs @ these parties. They would throw me in hedges, hit me, bash my head against the wall and more. They used to force me to drink shots by yelling in my face and pounding their fist in front of my face. The boys did this not my sister and her friend. This went on for about from age 5-7. While all this was going on my grades were dropping and I barely had any food if any and was sick all the time. I was molested by a much older cousin when my mom would have my aunt watch me. I've been going to therapy but there is one event I can't seem to get over no matter how hard I try. I was 7 years old and she was babysitting me and her friend was having a party. Whenever night came and the party started. I was asked if I wanted some applejuice and I said sure. They made me sit down @ the head of the table. One went to get a bottle and cracked it open against the counter. I jumped and they laughed. Then they poured it into a shot glass and I tasted it and it wasn't apple juice. They screamed in my face to drink it and pounded their fist in front of my face. I wanted to cry but I didn't because I remember my sister's advice on not acting scared and they will leave u alone. So I drank shot after shot after shot after shot after shot after shot after shot. Until my sister finally saved me. Then I went outside and threw up black a lot. I guess my sister thought I would sleep it off so she took me upstairs for a nap. I remember blackout for a little bit and then I just fell asleep. I remember hearing the door creak and my sister checking on me. Then I heard the door creak again and I called out my sisters name and it shut quickly. I went back to sleep and then I heard the door creak then shut. Then I saw someone crawling across the floor and I thought it was my sister who was 16 @ the time so I called my sister's name and said what are u doing and laughing but when I heard no response I thought I was seeing things. I remember someone in bed with me and I said who are u and he told me to be quiet . I started screaming as he pulled down my pants so he covered my face with a pillow and hit me. I felt like I was suffocating. When I came to, he was raping me it was the worse pain I have ever felt. I started pleading for him to stop it and crying but he said to stop lying and that I liked it. He pushed down on the pillow and I passed out again. Then I woke up to being slapped in the face and he said not to tell anyone or he would hurt my sister and no one would love and want me anymore. I felt so ashamed so alone and so so afraid. I remember next day as me and my sister were walking home and she was making fun of me because I was walking funny. And I remember throwing away my bloody underwear. I just wish it was something I could get over but I can't. I don't like to be touched, I have trouble telling people no, and I have control issues, I have hard time trusting and getting close to people. I have stomach issues from all the stress I throw up a lot and am super jumpy. It took me soo long to be able to sleep on a bed again. I used to sleep on the floor and under a bed. I still do if I am under a lot of stress. I am just tired if acting like everything is fine when it isn't.
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by Christina
(USA)
When I was 4 I met this boy named J--- and he seemed really nice, and he lived right up the street from me! We became best friends and always talked. My twin brother also would hang out with him. I noticed a change in J--- when my brother and I were 8 and he was 9. He would start wrestling us and slamming us into the ground for no reason. He would do this behind the church, by the hug tree. I just assumed he was being a boy and brushed it off as nothing. This kept progressing and when I was 10, he would separate my brother and me, since we lived near the woods. He would take me into the woods and then his brother would take my brother into the woods but on the other side. J--- would walk me over to a tree and he would push me against it. He wouldn't take off my clothes but he would push me against the tree so hard that I actually had bruises on me. He would hump the tree make noises. He would act like he was going to rape me, but never did. Then he would walk me back to meet up with my brother. One day when my brother went hunting with my dad, J--- and B--- talked me into going into the woods with them. They walked me deep into the woods and B--- pushed me against a tree. He was J---'s older brother! J--- would hump the tree next to me then punch it, it was not a skinny tree, yet not a thick one. He would break the tree. I guess to show me what he was capable of. Then B--- would do the same exact thing to the tree. The next day, my brother and I were at the church hanging out with them, and B--- held me back as J--- took off his leather belt and whipped my brother, and then they switch my brother and me. Just whipped me with the leather belt and it hurt! My brother and I went home. When I was 11, just randomly ran after my brother and whipped him harder than ever before with a Leather belt, so I kicked him and he slammed me so hard to the ground he knocked the air out of me and then put all of his body weight on me so I couldn't breathe! When he got off, I called the police and he ran. I only told my parents and the police about the leather belt and J--- whipping my brother. We tried to get a restraining order against J--- but it was denied. I never would talk to J--- again, and I started healing from my bruises and cuts. Right before I turned 13, I was walking my dog and J--- came out of nowhere and told me to be careful, because pretty girls like me get raped a lot in the woods, and it hurts! He was like warning me for what he may do or someone may do in the future. I'm now afraid to be in the woods alone or with a guy. I feel intimidated, but I try not to show it when I'm with any guy. I am afraid to get hurt, I dot want to ever go through the pain I did, from when I was 4- last year when I turned 13. I am about to turn 14 and I am tryig to move on, but I have never told anyonethe true story of what happened until now! Even though J--- lives up the street from me, I hope he will never bother or hurt me again. I hope nobody will. I don't blame myself, but in a way I do, because I was the one who kept going with them, I never screamed or told anyone. But at least I was never really raped by them. Thanks for readig this and God Bless You!
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by Rissa
(Ohio, USA)
I just have to get this out,It's making go crazy, When i was about 4 or 5,my momma had a friend,we'll call Uncle J, he watched me and my brother,who was maybe 7 or 8, while my mom was working,or partying,he was great to my brother and me,he had games,and toys,and cartoons, but he always paid more attention to me. a "game" he called it..he'd take me to his room,into his closet,and expose himself to me,or,tell me to touch his privates..He told me i couldn't tell anybody,that it was our game, It went on for a few months,then,once,my mom walked in on us..at least,i think that happend,i remember screaming,and police..and hugs..and no more Uncle J..i tried hard to forget this..but it came back. My mother has never been in my life,really,she wanted to party, One man in my neighborhood,was especially friendly to me,he'd give me money,or soda,or an old toy,he said i reminded him of his daughter in mexico..i was looking for a friend,due to family problems,i was around 8,and my step-father would fight with my mother,and she'd leave,he'd take his anger ot on me..hitting me,or smacking me..anyway,my mom left me with a friend one night,and i was in a room upstairs minding my own buisness,the man who i thought was my friend,came in,and say on the bed,he was rubbing my leg,and telling me i was pretty,i liked the attention..but,then,he started rubbing between my legs..and taking his clothes off,i wanted to scream "stop" but,no sound would come out. he got on top of me and raped me for what seemed like hours..calling me "pretty angel" and "my little lover" i was sweaty,and wanted my mother,i was terrified..he finally left me there,bloody,crying,and sweaty,and before he left,he called me a "sl*t" and handed me 10 dollars. I never told my mother,becuase she seemed happy there,she had a job, a husband, us kids were healthy..i kept thhese things secret for 5 going on 6 six years. i'm 13 now,and have cut myself becuase these things have happend. Sometimes,when i remember,i feel useless,and dirty. like a sl*t..i tell myself i'm not..but his voice rings back..and i want to cut,and i cry at night,thinking of it,i've been clean for a while,and only told my therapist about when i was 8. I don't know how to escape my memories..i just want to forget,but no matter how hard i try..it's always there.
Thanks for letting me get this off my chest
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by Emily
(Florida, USA)
Nobody knew till it was too late:
my parents got divorse when i was 6. my mom got remarried and i lived with her. my mom and stepdad both were pill poppers and mixed it with drinking. my stepdad started hitting me when i was 8 years old. on my ninth birthday he came in my room with a knife and threaten me telling me not to make a peep. he then raped me for the first time. i cried for 2days straight. no one asked why. no one cared he kept hitting me with his hands and belt. he did this till i was 11. i tried fighting back and he raped me when i did with such force i had bruises all over me. i cried and cried no one cared. when i was almost 12 i moved down with my dad because my mom couldnt take care of me she needed the money for drugs. i didnt eat some nights. at 12 years old i weight 53lbs. i never talked bout it. i never could. i told my mom once when i was ten and she threw me down the stairs. no one cared. my stepdad started drugging me so i wouldnt talk. i wasnt strong enough. but no one cared. i kept it a secret till i was 14. between then i had nightmares, cried myself to sleep and started making myself throw up. i couldnt look people in the eyes. i couldnt look at myself. when i was 13 i started cutting. no one cared because i couldnt tell. at 14 i finally broke down and told. i went through the court system but no one cared. there wasnt enough to put him away. it was a 14 year olds word against a firefighter. and they didnt care bout me. i was from a broken home they thought i was doing things for attention. im in consuling now i havent threw up in 14 weeks and havent cut in 6 months. i know those were stupid but i couldnt handle it. i still dont. i still wake up screaming and crying. i still dont sleep more than 2/3 hours. i will always live with the regret that it was my fault i didnt tell i couldnt i wasnt strong enough but im learning i may have screwed up by not telling and not fighting back but it was wrong. i was a good kid i got good grades i helped with anything i could. but it didnt matter it still happen. im almost 16 and still feel this way. i know ill never get the closure i want. i worry everyday he could do it to someone else but i tried and failed. i now try to help others by helping with awareness but ill regret not doing something sooner for the rest of my life. i know it wasnt my fault. but if he does it to someone else it will be my fault. he got away knowing he did everything right. and im stuck here feeling like this. if your in any situation like this please tell before its too late. nothing more important than getting help moving on and getting the closure i never got.
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by Alissa R
(Florida, USA)
To this day I still only remember snippets of my abuse, but even so, it haunts me. I started remembering what had happened about a year ago when I was fourteen. I had a dream that I was a child, and I was laying on a bed. I saw an older boy standing above me, and he started touching me. The dream usually stopped there. As time passed I started having flashbacks during the daytime. The flashbacks were of the same boy. Soon, I started having memories. I realized that the boy was the son of one of my mothers friends. We were paying them a visit that day, telling them the news that my mother was pregnant. I wandered off away from my mother and her friend, and ended up going down the hallway into her son's room. He had friends over and they were playing video games. I walked into the room and sat on the bed. They closed the door...they locked it. One of the boys started touching me. When I started crying, they laughed and called me a dirty baby. After they were done the boy leaned close to my face and said, "Don't tell." I didn't tell anyone. I hid it from everyone, including myself.
My mother mentions to me that when I was two and a half, my behavior changed, drastically, for the worse. Now I know why. It just kills me that she just thought I was a bad child. She didn't even consider the fact that children don't change so drastically for no reason. It didn't help that afterword, with my behavior and the stress of being pregnant, my mother started hurting me too. She would ignore me for a day at a time if I cried or threw a tantrum. She would lock me in a room for hours. There was even a time that she laid me down on the bed and laid on top of me so I wouldn't get up and try to unlock the door. She called me names and hit my legs until welts appeared. This continued until I was 8 years old. When I complained that she was mean and hurting me, she would tell me that it was my fault, and that I was a bad child and deserved it.
I am fifteen years old now and she still refers back to my 'bad child' days, telling me that I ruined her. I've tried to tell somebody that I trust, but people who know my mom think that she wouldn't hurt a fly. Which is true, but I'm not a fly.
Now that I'm older, things are better. I am a headstrong person, and I don't let anyone ruin me. I make up for it by making perfect grades, being in advanced classes, and following my dreams to become an actress. But, I know that nothing makes up for a childhood that is lost, especially at the hands of someone who is loved.
Child abuse hurts. Stop it. Remembering is not easy, but there is nothing I can do. The memories are now a part of me. I'm changed. The only thing I can do is unlock and lift away the cocoon that has kept me from life. And let myself, scars and all, dark and light, hoping and hurting, fly away, to an uncertain future that is full of promise and wonder. To show the world who I am.
I'm free.
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by Pam
(Iowa, USA)
Sexual abuse and mental abuse:
When I was 7 I went over to a neighbor's house with my parents. They had two boys, one was 13 and the other was 8. I went back to their room to play a game and the older boy sexually abused me with penetration. I didn't know what sex was, so I went to their house again . We played football in the yard and the older boy touched my crotch when I hiked the ball- then we went inside to their room and he undressed me and abused me. He had his brother climb on me after he was done. I kept going over there several times after this, and the same thing happened. This went on for around 1 year.
My dad, not knowing that this was going on became mentally abusive when I was about 10. This continued until I graduated from HS. I moved out of the house shortly after graduation. I then left the area to go to college. I tried to tell an adult about my dad being abusive but she knew my parents and shut me down before I could tell her he was abusing me. I wish I had tried someone after her but didn't.
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by Amy
(Pennsylvannia, USA)
I was abused from a very young age.I believe that my abuse was mainly physically and verbally but as I've gone through therapy I have had sexual abuse too. I, like others, have blocked out memories that were too traumatic and over time they sometimes emerge. I am 41 and to this day I am still in therapy because I am having a difficult time putting these thoughts to rest and believing that I am not responsible for what has happened. Most relationships that I have been in have been abusive in one form or another. I turned to drugs and alcohol to relieve the pain.
The only thing that sticks out in my mind is my father saying he wanted a boy. He was a drinker and was very abusive to my mother and me. I never knew what would happen from one moment to the next. When I was young while under the supervision of my father, who was passed out, I got into his desk of explicit adult magazines. I found those books completely amazing and I looked at them every chance I got. I copied the poses and did the things that the women were doing. I became sexual at a very young age. Going from looking at books to touching myself not only with my hands but with objects that varied from my mother's vibrator to an electric toothbrush, the most humiliating thing I remember doing is letting our dog lick me. This is the first time I've ever mentioned this to anyone and it is causing my anxiety to shoot up, sorry.
I've had a sitter expose himself to me, I've had my father strip me down to my underwear and lock me outside in the winter. He has done such horrible things and if I were to tell it in details it would take forever, or at least it would seem like forever. I have been hit, bit, kicked, punched, beat with hangers, belts or whatever was accessible at the time. I've also been called so many names that I'm surprised I know my given name.
Most of my relationships that I've had as an adult have been similar and the father of my oldest two children forced me to have sex with him.. I'm not able to remember, let alone count, the number of people I've slept with. That was the way I thought I could get love. Now I'm to the point that sex almost repulses me. I'm convinced that once my parents divorced that all I am to each of them is a f***ed up reminder of the crappy marriage they had. As of now I have no relationship with most of my family. I have 5 children to 4 different men and have no clue how to love them once they get older and become more independent. I've been addicted to alcohol since the age of 11 or so, and a drug addict since 16. Right now I'm back in recovery after yet another relapse. I've been in and out of jail over my bad check charges that I got back in 2000. Thank goodness at the end of September I will finally finish up the probation. I've attempted suicide numerous times and often wish I would go to sleep and never wake up. I have major depression, anxiety, bi-polar and PTSD.
I just started another round of therapy and would really love to have a "normal" life but I feel that just isn't in the cards right now. I keep plugging along day by day looking forward to the day when I can finally put the ghosts in their graves were they belong. Thank you for letting me write this.
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by Casey
(USA)
I don't know if this would be considered abuse or not, but my father has a horrible temper and wanted so bad for me to be successful in school last year and I still love him and forgive him. I still see him and he doesn't do what he did, but I still wonder if it would be considered abuse, because it crushed me when he did what he did.
He yelled at me and threatened to slap me, he followed through with slapping me, pushed me to the floor, called me a nobody, a piece of sh*t, and even cornered me, smacked my face a good ten or so times, and drove off the morning before school for my running a little late. I was scared to come home from school and wanted to die. He never did too much, just smacked me and told me he didn't love me anymore (literally). He said it was "strictly business" between him and me, but he now feels terrible for what he did and has never done anything to me ever since and I forgive him and will always love him, as he and his dad were both raised this way, and since abused people abuse, I want to break the chain by learning NOT to abuse an I will never put my child (if I ever have one) through what I went through.
Thanks for reading,
Casey
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
It happened 6 years ago...I was 15 years old. It was so traumatic that I blocked it out of my mind for 5 years. Now that I can remember it all its like I am reliving it everyday. Its hard on my husband....him having to wake me up in the middle of the night because i am having another nightmare...another memory of that horrible night. It happened when i was 15yrs. I was on vacation with my grandparents...one night my grandmother went to sleep and my grandfather and I had stayed up watching movies. A little later I had fallen asleep on the couch(my husband tells me that I sleep like a dead person, i'm a very heavy sleeper). My grandfather then raped me I remember bits and pieces of the event. He took advantage of our relationship and used his voice to keep me calm/asleep/half asleep, reassuring me everything was ok. I was so scared...when i woke up FULLY, he was finishing up and he told me "thank you for letting me do this" i just layed there petrified...then he continued to tell me what a dirty little girl I was, for letting him do that to me. He said if I said anything to anyone it would break my mother's heart and she would never forgive me.
A year ago he admitted to everything and called the cops on himself...at the time I couldnt remember anything...i was being told and interrigated by everyone in my whole family what had happened and they tried to get me to remember, but i couldnt...my grandmother came to live with my parents, sister, and myself when my grandfather went to prison. She stayed with us for a year...I couldnt escape it...she was always talking about it...then december 6th 09' i had my first nightmare...my first memory of what happened. Its taken me a year with countless nightmares, memorys, and flashbacks to remember everything ive just said...he admitted to abusing me sexually more than once, only i cant remember any other times...im waiting to remember more...sometimes i dont want to though.
I feel scared all the time. I am afraid of the dark, im afraid of men, i dont answer the door unless my husband is home...i dont trust men, i dont feel comfortable around them...i cant help it i just dont, not even family members...I feel dirty...broken...not perfect anymore...i blame myself...i should have stopped it...I wish I could remember more.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
Never give up:
Thanks for taking the time to look at this. I've always been on the weaker side. I've been physically and emotionally abused as a child and still am. I remember coming home and trying to forget everything but it was too hard. My parents called this disipline and I needed to learn manners. I would be beaten and yelled at for the smallest things. They would call me useless, trash, and I would end up a failure in life. The only thing that had value to me was and is my sister. She's 6. She is the reason I can wake up in the morning and smile. I am now at the age of 12, and the physical abuse has stopped for the most part. And I must say, I know everything my parents say about me is wrong. I know that when I look in a mirror, I'm going to be somebody and I'm going to be a better parent then they ever were. I mustered up enough courage in fifth grade call social services, boy was I wrong. My parents have no friends, and I don't even see my relatives due to their "large bitterness" they would find every little flaw in a person and talk about it for days. Well, the social worker came the first day, with my mom at work. Even though I was 11 and it was illegal to babysit if you're under 13, I did this knowing the consaquences. Today, still healing and happy with who I am, I would like everyone to know that there will always be a light waiting to shine.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Texas, USA)
I really don't know how to start, the first time I was abused I was about 3 or 4 years old. My mom and dad divorced when I was two, they split because he was abusive to my mom. Her second husband was not any better he started touching me and every day he would ask me if I needed to go to the bathroom. It didn't matter if I did or not he took me away to abuse me. Once he took me and my sister in another room and started having us touch him, my brother walked in and told my mom. He went to prison..... when I was twelve my cousin who was 19 raped me. I didn't tell anyone for months until my mom asked me and then he went to prison for 7 years. I am now 27 and have a family of my own. I recently took in my 12 year old nephew, he had only been here for about 3 weeks and I caught him touching my daughter. Its been reported but now all of those feelings have come back to haunt me...when will this pain end, is my baby going to feel the same pain and disgust I feel? I am starting the process for getting help for her and for me. I am her mommy, I am supposed to protect her and I let her down.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Canada)
My life going through hell:
ok soo this isn't like all those storys that talk about sex abuse n stuff nor does it have to to with phsical abuse but verbal abuse. when i was about 5,i went to my kindigarten class in the morning n come back in the afternoon(and ofcorse my friends n teachers and even my princepal loved me).Back to my story when i got home i'd go n say hey to my dad n give him a big hug but on that day he pushed me away. I thought that was suspicious soo when he fell asleep i went straight to the computer and opened wat he was looking at n it was porn n later found out that it had a virus attached to it. I heard him comming soo i shut down the computer n pretended to watch my fav tv show. when he came back he was normal again but i was boiling with anger.anyways 2 yrs aftr that i was 7 yrs old and i heard my dad yelling in my language at my mom. so i went to see y he was doing that n thats when he went crazy n was about to hurt her when i came in. i had tears in my eyes n yelled at him "why r you doing this to mommy she didnt do anything" n ran to my room n cryied my head off. the next day after that i put a fake smile on n lived life normally. but when i was 8,he got intense with his words and started to call her a s**t,b***h,and plenty more in my language but at that time i didnt know my language that well soo i pretended like i didnt hear it. on july 6th or 7th i got a girl bunny which i named blossom.she helped me through the fighting and a week after i got her, i woke up to see my dad totally lose it, he rose up n grabbed a plate n threatened my mom n me n broke the plate in front of me. i still have that horrid immage in my mind. ok skip to grade 5, he kept hurting my mom n threatening her and in grade 7 he broke a cup/mug full of freshly made coffee.In grade 8 he went to the hospital and the doctor said he wud've died the day after if it wasn't for us calling 911. 2 months after he went crazy this time he fully lost it n wen i came in he kept yellin but now at me. oh n btw he grabbed my finger n bent it backwards. luckly its not broken now n just 3 months ago right infront of me he threw a hard covvered book right at my mom's face. the next day when he went to work my mom told me they were in an arranged marriage and that ever since that day he's been abusing her. now i have pure hatred for him n i keep tellin my mom to divorce with him but she doesnt want to hurt his family or hers soo she is like she wont leave.but ever since that day i confinded into telling around 7 of my closest friends about this.they all believe me. but my mom doesnt know i tld. my mom works 2 jobs (she usually leaves at 6am and comes back at 8pm). i feel soo sorry for her and i want to hurt this b*****d soo bad but cant. im still in grade 8.(14 yrs old) and don't know what to do.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
Ever since I could remember my mother didn’t care for me I was my fathers child and she hated him not for him beating me and my sisters but because he wasn’t working he would just sit on the couch. The cheating is what got her to tell him to move out even when we would have bruises did it matter no she sometimes wouldn’t come home for weeks then she would come home with her hair done new clothes on her phone talking to her girlfriends like we didn’t exist she would get more clothes and leave or she would go to sleep but no hi no I love you no I missed you. So we would be stuck with him. I was his child so she wanted nothing to do with me I was good I got good grades never really whined only when she would leave I kept to myself I was sick for most of my childhood I had gastritis and I wouldn’t eat I went on a hunger strikes like Gandhi which made my gastritis even worse. All she would do was scream at me and my sisters telling them to take care of it that she had to go to work then she would leave I don’t really remember all her words all I remember was anger her hands going up like what do you want me to do about it ugh such pain such hate I had for her and yet I loved her so much that’s what made it hurt the worst.
Eventually he left she was going to call the cops on him she threatened again and again but never did. Even after that she was going out saying she was going to church but I wasn’t that stupid seeing her extra bag of clothes I doubt people went to church in a slinky red dress. She would come home drunk or with a guy never asking me how I was. I was nine.
My sister left my other sister was in gangs wasn’t around much went out with friends and I was in the worst part of town drunks bums shootings I never would turn on the TV or the lights afraid someone would hear it and try to come into the house all I had was my dog and I would sit in the corner of the living room behind our couch afraid of everything and cried.
She never really bought groceries she was never home so I went hungry a lot if it wasn’t for this old Chinese man who ran a little store next to my house allowing me to get ramon noodles for free I don’t know what would of happened to me I would go over their just to talk to him and play with his kids thank god for that man.
I'd always beg her not to leave me crying pleading she got mad at me yelled at me and left all I wanted was a kiss or hug or her to tell me to go to bed it was a school night it just didn’t matter to her. She would leave I was even afraid to cry the feeling of loneliness is just the worst thing I think you can feel. Its an overwhelming emptiness thank god for my imagination. I started talking to myself still do it I had only me.
She met a guy he had kids when I saw her with his kids her wanting their attention her cooking for them when I had no food at the house her hugging them her playing with them taking them out places and they would talk about her behind her back they despised her. I don’t know why she did all those things why not me why even for Christmas she would buy them stuff I got nothing she went to their house so often her room was bare it was just me and my sister kind of she went to juvie a lot.
Sometimes my sister would take me out with her gang them drinking yelling at cars throwing their sign up what if they got into a fight and I was their what if they shot at us did she think I was just a liability getting in their way.
Few years past we moved in with him she would leave with him and leave me their with his kids who didn’t like me they said the meanest things to me but I have to thank them because of them I don’t care what anybody says to me im a rock. But I had my step brother the only one out of all of them who I cared for he was a brother to me we took care of each other he would even get in fights with his sister defending me we were close but he still had his downsides trying to impress his sisters and brothers and after awhile he forgot about me I thought we were close but really he just used me as a joke something he could make fun of so I stopped caring for him.
My mom started getting into fights with his two girls moved out it was great but she had two other kids with him not like I wasn’t invisible already but now she used me for a nanny doing things for the kids the little demons could spit on me tell me to go eff off and she would just laugh but if I spanked them I would get slapped much harder and so I took care of them even helped her husband out cutting wood mowing lawns anything he asked me to do that was his business I helped him but his kids didn't cutting large amounts of wood isn’t that fun in the winter but I helped him I was such a nice person back then I was myself kind of. After a while they would wake up really early just so I couldn’t go they would leave come back with pictures of the happy family without me all around the house you could find pictures of them not me he could say whatever he wanted to me she wouldn’t do a thing she would just insult me the only conversations were her picking at something she wanted me to be happy around other people to act the part and when I didn’t a smack to the head she would look at me with such hate it was just consuming.
I stayed through her husband being drunk all the time them arguing and no matter what she stayed with him even after it got physical with him I take care of the kids he just sits and goes on the computer the kids were running around outside on the street so I told them to come inside he said no but I brought them in anyway so he grabbed my arm pushed me away from the kids but I wouldn’t let go so he kept hitting my arm I finally pushed him he fell back his glasses were pressed into his ear drum and it burst I ran inside and called the cops but when they came he the military man started saying ow he even got out a few tears I tried to tell my side of the story but he wouldn’t listen all he said was do you not speak English can you not hear me telling you to shut up and so they did nothing but give me lecture on behaving I was so embarrassed then my mom came home I was on the steps crying I was so angry shaking and she passed right by just stopped to look at me and shake her head I heard them talking about sending me away all I could do was go to my room and cry I couldn’t do anything I just felt I don’t know dead. My mom came in my room well the window because I wouldn’t open up the door I just couldn’t move couldn’t do anything but just stare straight of into space she tried to tell me that she was going to leave him because basically she was getting tired of him he wasn’t working all he did was fly his airplane and be on his computer so when he left for work we left ever since then it has been the same thing her putting others before me she rather go off with some stranger that she barely met then me she will never stand up for me never if someone tells me something she will back them up but not me im just done with her but I love her so much I hate it hate me hate her im just so tired of this when will she finally see me as her child when? Now I cant speak to people I cant even look at men I cant stand them I cant trust them its not their fault I just cant. I get anxious and disgusted by the very thought of being romantic of being with another it scares me more than death of being intimate I don’t trust people cant trust even the people I think is friends Im just paranoid to let myself go and have a conversation its just difficult and my mom thinks she had nothing to do with it that once we become teenagers no matter how good a mother ha ha they still can go in another direction she is always in denial never acknowledging anything she’s perfect im the one who has problems and everyone believes her I am insignificant or like she said im jealous of her god she’s my mother and she acts like a teenager whining when she cant go out that she has no friends even though she has me I hope one day I will stop loving her I really hope I do all I can think about is trying to get away from her. I tried to get anxiety pills all she said was no its like she wants me to suffer as much as she did if she’s unhappy I have to be unhappy if she’s in pain then I have to be in pain.
Anyone out there if you have kids don’t you try to make it better for your kids then what you had would you not sacrifice yourself for your kid put them first over anybody I tried so many times to kill myself did she care when she came in the door and I was crying she would say what’s up your but instead of asking me what’s wrong are you ok always blaming me for getting sick for being trouble when I try to make myself as invisible as possible I just cant take her anymore she’s just exhausting I want to look at myself and be happy but with her telling me every day how bad I look how stupid god she tries to talk to me like im just some random girl im at my last wit I hope I can get away from her without killing myself.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
Just About Given Up:
I have been verbally abused by my mother and younger brother for as long as I can remember. I've always been called names and treated like a pile of dung dropped at their feet. When my mother dropped me off with a babysitter she didn't even know (she said she picked me up each day but I know she's lying)and I was traumatized, it was thrown up in my face that my mother had to "take time off of work to take care of me." And you could hear the resentment just dripping with every word. My mother has always practiced favoritism; her excuse is that my father ignored my younger brother and paid attention to only me. And she loves to talk about how she almost let him take me with him. I met him years later and he was no more family to me than she was. My younger brother is a lot like him.
I have spent most of my life being called every name in the book {weirdo was used a lot}, and being falsely accused of being mentally ill {that's been a favorite tactic; although the more I paid attention, the more I saw how mentally ill they were}; I was attacked by my younger brother and I can still remember my "mother" yelling, "You're tearing up my house, you're tearing up my house." I called the police and when they came, she immediately was defending my brother and blaming me {another thing that has always been practiced; my younger brother is the golden child who can do no wrong in my "mother's" eyes}. I ended up leaving and going to a shelter, and it was a joke. Another person staying there and I agreed, it was abusive, you just didn't get hit. I pissed off one of the directors, and she put me in housing in one of the worst areas. I averaged $300.00 a month in rent, and for what? The drugs were everywhere, it was just ridiculous. I went the wrong way about leaving, but finally got out. I still remember that right after I had gone to the shelter, my "mother" called, and told the person that she had talked to that she didn't want me coming back, but she wanted to know where I was. A few years ago, I ended up, due to some circumstances, having to come back to my "mother's" house. I have to put up with constant threats, verbal abuse (and I know what verbal abuse is), and I just want out. I haven't been able to work for some time, and I know I'm going to be homeless, but at this point, I just don't care. A man's enemies will be those of his own family. How true. The only thing keeping me here are my cats (which she constantly threatens to physically harm). I don't have the money to have them humanely euthanized, so they're at her mercy too. She's constantly blaming me for why she can't retire and going on about how she is too old to work (she brings home a sizeable paycheck each week, her house is paid for, so she loves to blame everyone and everything else, but her room has bags laying all over the place with clothes stuffed in them with the tags still on them; she has a hoarding problem and very poor skills managing money), and I'm just tired. I was diagnosed with Motor Neuron disease, but according to her I can work, I just don't want to. Which has changed from a couple of weeks ago, when she told me that,"If you'd just admit that you have a problem,(mental), you could get disability." Just like her father the devil. I'm physically tired, mentally tired, and I absolutely HATE where I'm at. (the state I'm in as well as the place I'm staying). I really don't care if I die homeless in another state, I just want to get out of here.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
Sexually abused in family - outcast from society:
he came into my room . he touched my private area which was a huge no-no. it made me sick in my sick afterwards. i know too much bout s-e-x that wasn't normal for my age. yall know what i mean my people (17%)out 100% . we show too much skin, we talk inapporate too, we do inapporate things to our bed, too. we buy inapporate things from spencor's, too. sometimes we have sex after we turn 18 years.
then we regret too. i know how you feel, think, n might do. i had strage sexual fansaty bout austin st john(red ranger) as a little girl. i also had a huge crush him too. bye. i wish i could hug yall n kiss. but not allowed too.
i love you my people. i care about you too.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Australia)
My life:
When I was little mum told me dad would want to shut me up by killing me as a Baby coz he couldn't handle my crying but mum would never let him touch me so instead he would beat her that's what she has told me.
But I don't remember any of that. I remember being a normal family dad go to work and I would spen the day with my most amazing mum ever but then it started going wrong something happened I carnt remember what, and mum moved out took me to a place with another man we lived next door to my mums mum. But mums boyfriend wasent nice I sort of semi remember walkig home one night with mum and him and I was on his shoulders but then he put me down and i blocked out what happend next all I remember is the thud of my mums head hitting the bitchermem after whatever he did to her it's all blurry and stuff... I remember being so scarred an having trouble breathing being so pertrofies of him. And that's all I remember of them six months living with him
One day dad came and kidnapped me and I remember mum begging dad to take her with him and me praying he wouldent. I don't know why I just did. He dident. But later on that night we got a call mum had a epilepctic fit and had been taken to hospital diagnose with epolepsy by being hit in the head to many times.
She moved back they fought more and more she started drinking and smoking dope like dad both doing it more and more dad got to aversive I remember once I watched him smash her fingers in the door while she was screaming I just stander the watching screaming and crying for hum to stop, another time she slice her arm open smashing the window to get in when dad locked her out and once mum kicked his surfboard coz he burnt her thousand of dollars worth of camera and all her under were... I was so confused why. And he nearly killed her when he coaught her kicking his surfboard I watch him punch and kick into her on the cement until he started fitting me crying knowing if isaid anything he would just make it worse. The older i got the worse he became one time I got so sick I got some type of desease and when I got discharged from hospital dad got so angry at me being sick and mum told him to leave me alone so he dragged her out of the car by her hair telling me to go to my room, I did and i could hear him beating into her.
I developed cornice asthma and have panic attacks all the time I had no friends and got bullied for the way my dad dressed me. Luke a boy. One time ALSo when we were at a friends i was laying in bed and i asume dad thought i was mum and accidently rubed/fingerd me i just froos and accidently tensed he then relised it was me and gave me a squiz and he rolled over. And i pulled my dress down and cried myself to sleep.I had lice and always runny nose and always got teased or having the same lunch e every day by the time I turned ten mum movedo out me and her would sneak out while he was at the pub
We would say we were going to the movies but instead find a place for her to live and soon enough she did I said my goodbye that night knowing she left. At 4 am that morning she did and I had to tell dad I knew nothing. Dad then starting hitting me and saying really cruel things and I had enough finished primary school and finally told him I was moving in with mum I did and she had a bf called b-- ad he was so so bad he has been to jail and knew how to fight he then started regully drinking and doing drugs with mum I lost her a while ago never noticed but I she is completely gone just someone who wakes up for a cone and a beer till she passes out that night her and b-- got into so manny fights scars in her backs and everyending black eyes also she had lernt to fight with dad and b-- chipped it to even once I remember her stabing him.
It got so worse and they were both saying the meanist stuff to me and mum stretch hitting me but I shot up and was taller then her and started defending myself so they stoped but kept with the names and the other mean stuff like confiscating my conditioner and scrybing my tooth brush around the tolet bowl. But then mums boyfriend soon started on me beating my up nearly braking my nose fir saying that his tattoo sucks.
Mum just watched and even joined in th spitting in my face saying how evil I am I remember one night b-- grabed my mouse and squeezing it in front of my eyes coz me and mum had a fight till my beautiful hand raised pure bred mouse died right there then he threw it at me.
So many things I could go on forever about what they have done... Just neverending list
But while if this was happening I had no one to tell no friends
I was being really badly bullied and no one liked me coz again of not having any good close my hair being a mess coz I never had hair products they took that away from me...
So yeah my whole life pretty much I Copt every type of abuse I have herd...
But the problem is my dad now dying of a disease caused from drinking to much and mixed with pot
He hates me never wanting to talk to me I haven't seen him I years
And my mum still with her boyfriend them still stoned/high and drinking every single day/night
Nothing has changed in 15 years of my life except me
I now live with my best friends family (not officially but permanently) And I go to a different school have a big group of friends
Still is effected by what has happend that I'm struggling with grades
But they are changing
And also how my patents have showed me reason to keep fighting no matter what you live with, to keep fighting you will always get what you want
I always wanted a loving family and I now hav one
And thanks to seeing what drugs and alcohol did to mostly everyone I had loved in my life
I am never going to smoke or do drugs or become an alchoholic
And still to today I pray for that day for my mum to be my mum again... Even though I doubt that seeing how much all the men in her life have killed her slowly...
Sorry for the length
But that so far is my story
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
These tough couple of months my boyfriend told me about are turning into more tough months..
Too young to move out but you left me with no other choice!
At least im no longer worried when and where the next bruise is will appear, or when you next want to use me as your punchbag.
"Shut up crying or ill ram this down your throat and you'l be dead!"
One of my most remembered childhood memories.
Childhood. People think its something where you grow up, live your life and your family look after you until your ready to stand on your own two feet.
My childhood was growing up, living my life, and getting beaten to a pulp whenever you felt the need to hurt me until i was old enough to escape at 17.
17.
Still only a child. Still having the memories and nightmares of my past so hurtful that i am no longer able to live with the sick feeling everytime i think about just one of her fists slamming into me, my voice crying at you to let me go.
I bet you felt so in control didnt you?
You never noticed the cuts that kept appearing on my arm, nobody else noticed the home i was going home to.
You hid it so well.
Id love to reveal it one day, how i ran round to my best friends house after you threw a plate at me, how i ran away after recieving so many blows to the head at once that i felt like i needed hospital treatment.
Maybe thats why im so f***ed up these days.
I swear i'll never turn out like you. Ill commit suicide before i even have an inch of your personality in me.
3am.
My eyes are sore but i can't go back to the nightmare ive just had, so i must stay awake.
My eyes aren't as sore as they were on the countless nights i cried myself to sleep, wishing i was adopted.
I think i went through the yellow pages at least 5 times looking for care homes to help me escape my reality.
You made me feel so helpless, i couldn't fight back, you were too strong.
I still can't fight back.
I still feel the pain as i remember you twisting my arm behind my back, forcing me to the ground and repeatedly stamping on me.
Im supposed to love you but you make it so hard for me to actually care about you.
The amount of pain you put me through physically, and the pain im feeling mentally just makes me want to die inside and out.
So i move somewhere far away from you, with a job, and start new.
My living isnt the best, but its something.
I dont have to put up with you screaming at me because you want someone to scream at, punching me because you want to take your anger out on me.
Im still scared though. Why? Cos the brother and sister i will do anything for are living under the same roof as you.
If you lay one finger on them, i will kill you. Ill happily ruin my own life to protect thiers.
You've ruined my life so far.
When you and Dad split up after 5 years of unhappiness, i was so confused.
He did things that were wrong, but so did you, but you never acted upon your mistakes, you carried on blaming him, making me hate him more than i already did.
A year later your engaged. 6 months before this you were single, and didnt need anybody else but us. He comes along and suddenly we don't matter to you no more. At least i dont anyway.
Although you dont deserve me i still need a mum.
I need someone to give me a full cuddle when im going back home, instead of a half hearted one whilst your still holding his hand. Someone to sit in a room with, without your fiance on my 18th meal, with my two older brothers, younger sister and Dad. Shows how much you care when you can't even do that for me. Its always him over me and my brothers and sister now though.
I really wish you would have killed me sometimes.
I wake up and think, "I wonder what it would be like to jump off a bridge today. Would anyone care?"
Truth is, theres only you who i doubt would care. Theres no way im losing my life because your too dumb to see that although your daughter is in the big wide world on her own, she still needs you.
When i told you i was moving out because i was sick of being your punchbag, you made me promise that we would "rebuild our relationship." What hurts is that youve made no effort! I get upset, then so angry i want to hurt myself to stop the
emotional pain.
I really hate you now. The only reason i keep comming back to you is the fact i have to see my little brother and sister, to check you haven't been hurting them in the same way you hurt me.
So when i do come back, theres no way its for your benefit.
I always read about children who were abused much worse than me, then feel like im over reacting and my problems dont matter. But my boyfriend always said if its your biggest problem, then it matters.
I really want to help children who feel as unloved and unwanted as i did. Theres plenty of people around to help them, i want to make them see that.
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by Name Undisclosed
(England)
When i was 9 my mum sent me with my little brother about 6 to the corner shop to buy milk, i gave the man the money he was in the about 24 and asked him for milk but he just said wait cuz that man is gonna bring it after 15 min so i waited so he started to chat to me about random stuff and when i got the milk and was ready to go he told my little brother to take the milk and go and i will follow him then he bent down and kissed me on the cheek and really started touching me and hugging me in private places. i thought it was normal cz a lot of my dads friends used to hug me and kiss me on the cheek but when he was moving to my lip i went no and he went why i went like i dunno but its over the top then i went but he went like never tell anyone and i wasn’t planning 2 cuz i found it embarrassing but i didn’t really know that they can go to prison for doing that
And this is the first time i say it out loud
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
Dream or reality, I don't know:
I am a 27 year old female. My dad and i do not have the best relationship. He is verbally abusive to my mother and has been ever since i can remember. I have this image in my head of him sitting on my bed while i was sleeping one night. I have no idea how old i was. Maybe 9 or 10. I don't specifically remember any touching, but i do feel really creeped out by this memory. The only problem is that i do not know if anything actually happened or what he was doing in my room. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was a memory that i have suppressed. I don't know what i should do to put all of this to an end.
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by Cassi
(Canada)
It is hard just to put this into words but I thought that maybe it would be healing for me. It started when I was very young ... probably around 4 or 5. I was beaten brutally by my alcholic father, to the point sometimes that I couldnt stand up or move to much after the beatings. And I was simply left there on the floor after each beating. My mother nor my brother ever came to my aid which overtime I determined it must be because they were afraid. I never truly understood why he only attacked me. The only conclusion I could come up with was that I was a mistake and on top of being a mistake my father never wanted children especially no girls due to his low opinion of women. There is so much that I could say but it would just be too much. But things that stand out to me are being 8 years old and trying to hide from him under my bed but he found me, pulled me out and made sure that I paid for that. the constant hitting and telling me I was worthless, all the hospital trips and failed CAS rescue attempts. I felt alone, I had no friends at school infact I was picked on everyday because I was quiet and socially awkward. Both in and outside of my house was a living hell. I wanted to run, but I felt that I couldnt. At the age of twelve I began cutting myself and considering sucide. But I never did, i spent a lot of my time thinking about the future and that things might be better in the future. Although with the nature of the beating i wasnt sure if I would survive. Like I said I was truly alone. But at 16 I met someone at my part time job. He was absolutly wonderful. I opened up to him and told him what was going on. he had me move in with him. I am now 18 almost 19 years old, living and engaged to the guy who moved me out and I couldnt be happier. He gave me the confidence to finally run and showed me what love felt like. For all you people who are being abused out there. Do not be like me, do not wait. Help yourself now, you dont need to live your entier childhood this way like I did.
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by Donna S
(Ohio, USA)
I was one when it started and was five by the time it ended. My brother and I were together the entire time. I don't really remember all of it but I'll tell what I do.
We were both beaten, burned and electrocuted. We never had love, good food (all of it was spoiled) or fresh water. We both never had a good family until we met the people we're with now. I just wish it would've been sooner. I remember one time I was on top of a roof and I got pushed off. I broke my arm in two places and had to walk to the hospital.
I buried the rest. All I remember is that I called the person "Big John."
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by Allison W
(Indiana, USA)
Abused by Sister:
When I was 5 my sister came up to me wanting to play a game. She was two years older so I just assumed what she did was normal. She told me to lay on her bed and stay very still. She got ontop of me and looked at me with such affection that I longed for from my sister. However this type of affection was not one I was prepared for. She did things that you weren't supposed to know about till marrage. She told me to keep it secret. This lasted till I was in sixth grade. When I turned thirteen I finally told my sister no. She got mad and I didn't see her for many months at a time. She was my sister by my father. Now I am a junior in high school. This is the first time I have spoken about it publicly. A month ago I told my parents. They never even noticed. I have no hatred directed at my parents. I do see my sister. I am still not comfortible with her. This has changed my life dramaticly. I went from a happy child to a depressed child really quickly. I became angry all the time. Now I see a theropist every two weeks. I got so depressed that I tried to commit suicide on many many diffrent occations. It was an obsetion. I just wanted to die. Living with this kind of abuse for most of your life gives you a blindness. This past summer I was raped. I felt nothing. I was so used to it. When you are sexualy abused there is a physical numbness. You don't care anymore because you don't think people care about you. I am 18 years old. I still hate my life. I just wanted to say to other people that its not just something you go through. You can't just catch the person and it be over with. At night I remember what goes on and I feel like I'm five again. She was my sister. I loved her. I have nightmares from it from time to time. Its an internal mental war. It can consume you.
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by Sue
(Florida, USA)
I was sexually abused by my father starting as early as 4 years old until I finally had the nerve (and help) to leave a few weeks before my 17th birthday. Yes family members knew but no one was strong enough to help. The abuse never went as far as intercourse but everything else. I was not his only victim, even while he was abusing me he would try things with some of my friends and even my grandmother. The reason I am sharing my story now, I'm a 49 year old mother of 3 and happily married except for sex. I have never enjoyed it but now it is getting worse and this is very difficult for my husband to deal with. I was hoping that maybe a reader out there would have some advice on how to overcome or at least make it through things now. Being at the age when women have a low sex drive, mine must be non-existent now. In case someone wants to suggest therapy, I have already tried that and it really makes me more uncomfortable I guess because I'm thinking about it more.
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by Elena
(Skopje, Macedonia)
I can't lie anymore, I can't hide my emotions anymore. I am seek and tired of running away from my story. It kills me. It hurts me. It takes my will to go on.
My child sexual abuse
I was only a child, I was 8 years old (as I can remember). We were playing with my best friend some game around the boarding school and he came up (He was stranger for me). He was pretty nice, he only wanted to show the TV room, than his room... And then he tried to discover my intimate parts.... from my body, of course. He kissed me, he touches whole my body, he whisper in my ear. After the show, he showed us his gun, he explain to us what he can do with the gun. We went out from the room and I told to my brother, he told to my mother, and we went the police. My parents never talked with me, they act like nothing happened, sooner or later I'll forget it, but the truth is: I was dying inside.
After 2 or 3 years, there was my grandfather. He had abuse me few years, I can't remember. I was screaming in silence, but I didn't know what to do. My family treated me very bad, so how can I believe it isn't my fault? I still blame myself for everything. Before three years I told the truth cause I was afraid for my little cousin, who was abused too. I am still blaming myself.
Physical and emotional abuse
At home I was nothing but the invisible one. I admit I'm jealous. My parents never were here to listen my inner emotions, they used to scare me with my brother that he can beat me, he overthrow me from the chair once. Before 2 years he could killed me with his arms on my neck. Lucky me, my father was here (like he didn't beat me from time to time). Children in school never likes me. They made jokes and laughed. It hurts, you know?
My mother died before 1 year and 8 months, but I never felt the connection with her. She was here only for my brother. They talked each others behind close doors, and I was so alone. They used to push me away when I needed them the most.
After her death, me and my dad shall move out from our home. There still lives my brother, but I am the homeless one. Now I live with my grandfather and grandmother, but tomorrow? I am tired of faking people that I'm happy, I am tired of putting smile on my face like everything is fine, but it's not. I am so afraid to wake up tomorrow. I am afraid to hear that my brother is hospitalize cause he takes heroin, I am afraid to lose my father cause he isn't OK too. He used to drink, but his deep vein thrombosis can not heal itself.
My life is nothing but full of fears, sadness, anger.
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by Jazmine
(Finland)
i was abused from when infancy until my late teens. i was an only child and unfortuantly was not born perfect as she wanted. i have epilipsy and a seizure shortly after i was born damaged my brain leaving me with a few problems walking and speaking. in her eyes i was worthless.from what im told, when i was a baby she of ignored me leaving my grandparents to care for me. when i was 5 we moved an apartment and things got bad. she would ignore me i would try to do things to make her happy. i would do chores,anything. i was desperate for her to love me. when i was 6 she started to date this man. he was seemed to make her happy.and he was nice to me. he would talk to and play with me. i remember once he bought me a hotdog at the park i went to the far coner of the bench away from him to gulp down my food.this is when he began to quetion my mother more. she soon got concerned he woul alert the cops of her treatment of her child so she dumped him. this made life at home a living hell.blamed me for her failed relationship and was determined to make me pay for it. she still only fed me every few days but when she did feed me she put hot sauce on my food then forced me to eat it. i was made to stay in my room unlesss at school if she let me go. the only thing in my room was my clothes and my matress. no toys or games. i slowly began to i guess lose it.this continued until i was 13. i finally snapped and she had made spegetti that night and told me to come downstairs and eat. i was suprised, no screming,no hot sauce. she said since it was my birthday she had made my favorite food. i had just started to devore my food and she snatched it from me. i was confused. she walked into the kitchen dumped my plate of food into the garbage disposal casualy told me to go back to my room. i don't know what came over me but i flipped out. i started screaming and banging my head she dragged me to my room and locked me in there the next day an officer came to my school. the neighbors had called them. the cps put me in a foster home at first but the people were not equip to deal with my issues. i was so depressed i would not eat even when food was offered, i would not talk or even play. they soon sent me to a mental hospital. at first i was terrified. i spent the first night curled under my bed. the nurse came to check on me having to drag me from under my bed. after i calmed, the bed felt and smelled better than my old matress and i fell asleep. as they worked with me they realised i had severe ptsd from the abuse. but with therapy and god knows how much pills i at least am able to function.
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by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)
When i was 15 my sisters boyfriend sexually abused me whenever he was drink he started touching me and now he doesnt even remember then 2 nites ago, im 16 and i was stupid and drank and so did my bros best friend z. z started touching me down there and my butt and chest while i was wearing a swimsuit in the pool. i didnt tell him to stop because i was drunk so i just moved and he tried to get me alone and touched me and i didnt know what to do because i shoudnt have drank but idk if it was abuse what z did :/
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by Jess
(Location Undisclosed)
It seems so weird, I've flicked through most of these stories now and am finally realising that maybe I'm not to blame. This has happened to so many other children and I'm not just the odd one out.
When I was 11, my family and I went on holiday to Dubai. We were heading out for a meal and I was a long way ahead of the rest of them. I was at the top of a long flight of steps and there was a man sitting at the top.
I'm not going to go into detail of what happened to me because it's pretty graphic and still makes me feel sick.
I've been through stages of hating my parents and taking all my anger out on them, I thought that if they hadn't let me run so far ahead I would have never been sexually abused.
I've blamed myself. Blamed myself for not screaming, for not saying no, for letting it happen.
Luckily for me, I never had to see that man again but I still bear the mental scars in my head.
Two years on and I've been through it all, I've self harmed, I've fought with my parents, lost almost all of my friends and been through hell in a long battle with my head and my emotions.
I'm still learning to cope with all of this and its finally sinking in that IT'S NOT MY FAULT.
Thank you for letting me share my story.
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by Timo
(Switzerland)
When i was 8 the maid started abusing me. Complete unprotected sexual relations, many times a day for 3 summers and 1 winter. I actually convinced myself that i had AIDS, seeing that i had no idea of what/who she was doing when i was away. I did the test when i was 20. Today i'm 27, and the abuse constitutes the only sexual experience of my life. I feel locked-in, burried in myself, and faith and drugs have only a limited effect. I'm a typical loner, not many friends at all, and i get the impression that girls my age aren't attracted to me at all. I hate getting jealous and callous. I hate the anxiety and despair i feel when i'm around a girl i'm interested in. I feel trapped and damned.
I hope my message doesn't discourage anybody, but I needed to vent.
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by Lydia
(Location Undisclosed)
I don't know if my story should be here because it's just couple of very small things compared to other child abuse stories.. But anywayI have to share this because it bugs me so much, I just want to forget things that happened to me, but I can't, memories keep coming back to me and sometimes I can't sleep because of them..
The first thing happened to me when I was 4 or 5 years old, I was playing with my older sister and she wanted to play a new game, of course I agreed to play, I adored my older sister then. I wanted to know how to play the game so she made me undress and started to touch me all over and she said that this is the game. I hated it, but for some reason I couldn't run away, she kept touching my private parts and I wanted to cry, I felt so ashamed and used. Afterwards she acted like nothing has happened and never mentioed or did it again. Sometimes I think I imagined the whole thing because she never ever showed any signs that anything happened, but I know it happened and I'm so sad about it. I still feel so ashamed and I just want the whole thing to go away.
The second thing happened when I was seven years old. I was in my other sister (older too) room, she was like my idol then and all the sudden she asked me if she could kiss me, I was really shocked and said no and then she asked would I agree if she'd pay me, again I answered no. She kept pressing me and eventually she kissed me and I wanted to cry and dissappear and she just kept kissing and it was so awful, I still want to cry when I think about it. When she stopped she gave me a dollar or so and I run away. She never mentioned or did it again either.
I haven't ever told about these things to anyone and I have no intentions to ever tell. I just can't speak about it to anyone. I hate both of my sisters for doing that to me. I keep wondering if they even remember how they ruined me (my dad ruined me too, he was a very violent and scary person, but it's another story). It's very hard for me to trust anyone.. Those things don't leave me alone, I just want them to go away.. I hate myit so much, I'm so ashamed about those things and I feel so sad all the time.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
When I was little I was abused by my mom, step dad, uncle, aunt, and sister. I always act like I'm this strong person who can handle everything and anything. I can be harsh and I don't take crap from anyone anymore and I guess I appear untouchable. But that's not the truth. The truth is, I need some one to save me because I'm too WEAK to save myself.
When I was about 4 the abuse started. I was molested by my sister, uncle and step dad. My mom, aunt, and sister use to beat me all of the time. One time, one of my mom's cats peed on the floor and I couldn't find the bottle of carpet cleaner (it was in the bathroom and my mom wouldn't let me look there.) so she cornered me in my room and beat me with a horse whip. She tore my arm open. The next day she kissed my arm and told me how sorry she was, and of course, I told her it was okay. Another time, she said I was trying to kill her and I would kill her and so she tried to choke me out. She also kicked me out of the house numerous times at random hours of the night, while I was holding a new born baby. Sometimes she would try to take the baby but there was no way in hell I was going to let my mom have her. I was about nine or ten. When I was seven my oldest sister tried to kill me. She tried to smother me. She stopped because someone walked in the house. She then told me that if I ever told anyone, she would for sure kill me. Of course, I believed her and I kept quiet. My uncle was always a big scary man. We lost our house and moved in with him and my aunt. My mom was having an affair with him and they were drugging my aunt so she would sleep the whole day. My uncle slowly started hanging out with me more often. He would invite me to his garage and we would talk about things in there ( car parts, tools,etc.) Then he started rubbing up against me. I hated it and I was scared to death. I knew he had molested my mom as a child. Still, I was afraid he would kill my aunt if I told so I kept quiet. There is so much abuse that has happened to me. It scares me sometimes because I get into these deep depressions and I can't pull myself out of them. I'm worried that I will never marry or find a good man to love and be loved by and have children with and a good life. If you saw me on the street, you would never be able to tell that I've been abused. I'm one of the most civilized, smart, successful, kind, loving, grounded, and down to earth person you could ever meet. But inside, I hurt. I'm cold and angry. I hate people and I hate my life. I cry myself to sleep almost every night. Sometimes I walk alone in the streets at night, hoping I will be kidnapped and murdered because I'm too COWARD to commit suicide.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
I never got over it:
It happened when i was 4 or 5. i was asked by my parent to go to a distant relative's house nearby to get something. when i arrived his complete family was there and when i told my great uncle about what my mom asked me to do, he brought me to a secluded room, saying that the stuff im getting is there. he locked the door as soon as we entered the room, i immediately felt uncomfortable. he asked me to sit on his lap, i was hesitant but he got my arm and wrapped his arms around me and placed me on his lap. slowly, he's placing his fingers inside me. i didnt know what was happening, all i know is that it just didnt feel right. he talked to me while he was doing it, trying to make me feel comfortable i guess. i was trying to reach for the doorknob with my short arms but he just laughed and said no one will know while he continued to play with me. it only stopped when my father knocked on the door, apparantly he had been worried because id been gone for quite some time. uncle made an excuse and said it took a while for him to find the stuff i asked for. i dont know why at that time, i didn't tell my dad what happened. i just felt relieved and played when i got home. but after that incident, i was with my aunt when i saw my devil uncle around the village, she told me to stop playing and greet him, i cried. i told her i was scared. i told her what happened, she just kept quiet, i dont know why. i continued with my daily life as a child but everytime i see my devil uncle, i always get scared, on family gatherings and he's there, ill just stay on one corner, keep quiet, and avoid looking at him. up to this day, 24 years after the incident, i still cry, alone.i didn't know that that single incident will have a great impact. i wet my bed until i was 10. i have suicidal attempts, anxiety attacks, low self esteem, and sleeping disorders. some people resort to their families for support whenever they are down. i don't. i just lock myself in my room and cry, because i dont feel that i can count on them, they knew what happened but chose to kept quiet, i just dont feel that they will be there for me when i need them. a single neglect in any form will affect every child. i hope somebody will learn from my story.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
I have found reading these stories comforting and familiar at the same time. I find comfort that i am not the only person who experiences some of the odd things (and who wonders if she's crazy) and familiarity in the things that people have said....
I am very unsure of what has happened in my life...I also feel deep down that i may have been sexually abused, but i'm not sure...and have asked my mum on several occasions but she always seems to avoid talking about stuff like that from the past.
I do know that when I was 3 years old, I was being babysat by a friend's brother (he was 14 years old) and some of his friends (my friend was also there, but her parents were out for the evening) and my mum told me that when she picked me up in the morning and gave me a bath at home...i was covered in bruises and cigarette burns. She says I went to the doctor for a check-up and there were no signs of penetration.
I remember nothing of it, and have such a terrible memory of my childhood in general that i wonder if that experience has made me block out memories...
I came from a very abusive background anyway as a child, being exposed to physical violence...and witnessing my younger brother (from about the age of 3/4) being physically abused (i even contacted social services when i was about 10 but nothing happened)...i had had 3 different male role models in my life by the age of 10.
My Dad left when i was about 6 months old...and we used to write letters to each other...when i went to visit him a few years ago, i asked to see his letters as my mum and step-dad had thrown all my stuff into a skip when i moved away....i became very hysterical and angry when i read them and couldn't stop crying...in every letter i begged my dad to let me come and live with him...but i never remembered him ever answering, i think he avoided it all the time...
I'm now 25 and i really just want to know for sure what has happened in my life, and fill in the gaps in my memory...i want to know my life and my childhood! I have been thinking about going to see a hypnotherapist to see if they can make me remember stuff???
But i am so scared of what i'll remember...i'm terrified to face the truth and i almost don't want to remember these awful things that happened...but i want to get this all sorted before i start a family, etc...
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
I feel guilty:
I only realized that my father molested my sister when I got older and I dont know if he did it to me, but anyways my guilt comes from when I was about 13 or 14 I slept over a friends house and anyways both of them were sleeping I started to dry hump one of them and he was about 5 or 6 but anyways as soon as I started I stopped right away after about a minute or so I realized that what I was doing was wrong so I stopped and layed down and I'm pretty sure I asked God to forgive me that night. None of them knew about it or were aware that it happened because I didn't make it noticeable because as soon as I realized what I was doing was wrong I stopped and never did it again. That was 10 yrs ago I am defntly not attracted to children in any sexual way and I thank GOD that they don't know that it happened because my intentions were not to harm him and that night I fixed what I did right away because I stopped myself from continuing because I realized what I was doing was wrong, I feel that in the stages of 13-15 your sexual hormones and curiosity is strong and I strongly feel that's why I did it but at the same time my curiosity stopped when I realized it was wrong and that what I was doing I should of been doing to a girl my age or older. Once I realized I was doing wrong I stopped I was so careful cause I didn't want them to wake up because it was a mistake that I quickly fixed by stopping and they didn't wake up and thank GOD I realized I was wrong and stopped doing it before they woke up and I didn't stop because I didn't want them to wake up I stopped because it was wrong. Even though I meant no harm I feel guilty now that I think about it. I love children and I've been around them my whole life before and after that incident and I never did it again I even have a younger sister and I would never hurt her. I don't know how I can get off this guilt it was something that happened once and even at that I stopped myself.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
I'm a 26year old professional woman and feel like I am keeping a secret from everyone. Every time i feel angry, hurt betrayed, I cut myself. I have been doing this since i was fifteen. I feel a build up of negative emotions, self hatred, anger, hurt and its so overwhelming. The only way to stop these feelings from swallowing me up is to cut. Suddenly I feel a release of emotions and I can get on with the rest of my life.
Last year, I had psychotherapy and i finally understood what was going on in my mind. When I was younger, and until up to the age of 21, my mother would hit me. I felt so humiliated, especially as I was hit as an adult. She would slap me, punch me, pull my hair, screaming about how much she hated me and she'd wish that she was dead, and how it would be my fault if she did die. I was terrified of the screaming and shouting. She would also push me down against the floor, sofa, bed etc and kick me and punch me. Not only was there physical aggression, there was a lot of emotional issues as well. I was never allowed to express any negative emotions- if I did this was met with more screaming, anger and violence. Another thing that my mother often did was punch herself in front of me as a child, shouting "look what you are making me do!!!"
I keep on going back to these feelings, and whenever this is triggered, I cut myself. These things are still happening to an extent whenever I am back home. Another problem now is with my sister. She is a year younger than me, and she hits me now as well. I feel so pathetic and stupid. I feel like a stupid, weak child.
I can never trust anybody and have never been in a relationship with anybody, and have no close friends. On the outside I look happy and confident, but I am really falling apart. Sometimes, I feel I am going mad and have strange experiences. There was one time when I was shopping, (with mother and sister) when I started to feel these negative emotions. Suddenly, I felt I wasnt real; I thought I was really invisible, that nobody could see me. I was unsure whether or not I existed. In the past when I was hit, I felt I was floating away, and this was quite similar to that.
Thanks for reading.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
I am 63 years old, and after years of therapy have just realized it is time to accept the harm that was done to me by both my abusive parents. Physical , mental emotional tactics have left me physically disabled and living with PTSD.
The best thing I ever did was to cut myself off from all family members for 8 years. It's the first time I started to be happy with me and not caught up in the family violence. I am grateful for 2 friends who helped me get through it- to disengage from the family who loved to hate me- a target child.
I was 50 years old and my father would still "come on to me" - pointing to his penis while staring at me with total rage in his eyes, to look at "it". I just stared back at him with equal contempt. He always pulled this "trick", anytime I looked at him with any form of human kindness which he saw as weakness. My mother witnessed it once, and just got up and left the room. I was also abducted and assaulted at the age of 4 years old by a neighbor boy. Afterward, she left me in a room to cope alone.
My mother told me to never come home if I had a migraine. She would yell at me if I got sick as a child. She bit me, used a comb to inflict pain and washed my mouth out with soap.
The list is long and tires me to think about. I want to move on; to enjoy fully what remains of my earth life.
Dad's recent death bed request of contacting him, forced me to decide to break my silence and call him- hoping some kind of forgiveness/healing would occur. No such thing- he was controlling and arrogant as ever. The request in hindsight, I now realize was his need to control me up until his very end- as he wanted to eat for the first time in a long time, after my call, and then died the next day. Never an apology nor an " i love you offer" Because, it wasn't about love -it was about control. The kid in me wanted a different ending because he was the better of the two, in the early years. But, it was it was. What a waste of time on my part to live in denial.
I don't know what it really means to accept the harm was done to me. I know I don't need to like it, but to come out of denial and face the physical and mental effects of double abuse, date rape and all the consequences it entails feels overwhelming.
Thanks for reading and sharing your experiences. it gave me the courage to write mine.
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by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)
Before I begin I'd like to state that I don't want my brother to be judged cruely for his actions. I am soon going to be going to court to tell people about the sexual abuse and emotional abuse my brother caused to give information for his trial, and I know they will judge him, but I want someone out there to realize that my brother was scared and did the only thing he knew how to. I'd also like to state that my brother was just as badly raped and tortured as the other girls he had raped. My father sexually and physically abused my brother. I shared a room with my brother and I know for a fact what my brother had endured growing up. I know my father tied my brother up, beat him with belts, burned him and anything else you can think of that qualifies as torture I'm pretty sure covers it. Growing up everytime I took a bath my brother would be there. He always talked about sexual topics, especially when I was in the bath. Then one day I had just turned seven two months ago and my brother had just turned eleven a week ago. My brother came into the bathroom which I used too, but he was very quiet. I think the only thing he said to me was, "I'm going to have sex with you tonight." This shocked me and scared me, because from what my brother had told me, sex hurt the first time. Well after my bath my brother got me dressed and carried me to our room. He sat me on the bed and told me to strip. I was a bit shy but, nontheless I stripped. The whole rest of the night he was extremely gentle and kind. He continued abusing me for a few months until one day while I was sleeping my brother brought a new girl home. She was about two or three years younger then me, I was still seven, and she was silently crying. My brother was just as gentle and kind with her as he had been with me. He used her for about two months and then he went back to me. Then something snapped in his brain. I'm sure something had already snapped, but now it was really something. My brother had brought home another girl and this time he tied her to the bed and began hurting her badly. She was crying hysterically, but my brother didn't seem to care. Then he raped her without giving her time to get ready like had done with me and the other girl. I was scared and crying watching my brother. My brother had always been the kind hero that kept me safe and I wasn't quite sure how to comprehend this. Well he let her go and brought her back at least three times. Then, he went to the next girl and was just as brutal with her, but everytime he raped me he was gentle. It still doesn't make sense to me and it probably never will. I'm not going to go into detail about my father did to my brother, but I want it to be clear that he had been through quite a lot before he "snapped", and I just want someone to hear me when I say my brother was and is a little boy crying in the dark.
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by Kody
(Location Undisclosed)
I just turned seventeen, and I'm leaving for college in a couple months, I should be on cloud nine. Excpt I'm so depressed that I was hospitalized a couple months ago for a suicide attempt. It's not that I totally want to die I judt want to escape.
I don't really know what u would call this but it happened on two totally separate occasions and each time it lasted almost a year. When I was nthird and fifth grade boys in my class would touch me sexually. I dn't actually remember everything that happened or even how far they went, I only remember bits and peices. It only happened at school which makes me wonder why my teachers didn't nottice or didn't stop it.
I can remember the first time the boy in third grade did anything, we were watching something about stars and the lights were off he had asked me if he could kiss me and I said no, so he didn't. That was also the last time he asked for permission. Right after I deniedhis kiss he put his hand up my shirt. I can remember other times when we'd be in line for something and he'd always be behind me inside of my pants. I remember fighting back once when he tried to go up my shirt. I tugged it down and hugged it close to my body
In fifth grade there was another boy who was more aggressive about it. he'd make comments while he was groping me, that's also the year that I stopped wearing skirts. They gave him easier access. I don't know if he only touched my butt or if he touched me vaginally too. My memory stops short of that.
Now I'm a complete mess. I've struggled with eating disorders and cutting. Fortunately when my preist found out about the cutting he helped me get into therapy. I've told my therapist vaguely that it happened but I try really hard to stay away from the topic. I'm too ashamed. I don't want him to think I'm disgusting and worthless because I didn't tell anyone and make it stop.
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by Alexis
(Indiana, USA)
I am still a teen. I get physically abused by my little sister and verbally abused by my father. My mom met another guy about two years ago and left my little sister and I for him. She moved to Italy. I never understood why she left me for him. I felt like I wasn't good enough for her. When my parents were still married, they used to argue non stop, and I heard every cutting word that was said. It was always when they were drunk or when one was and the other wasn't. My dad is and was a huge alcoholic, so that didn't make the situation any better. My mom and my dad used to beat each other and I saw everything. I cried to myself every night and prayed that everything would go away. Back when I was three, my parents both beat each other and they both ended up going to jail for 3 days while I stayed at my neighbors house. My big sister lived with me and my little sister til my mom moved to Italy. My big sister was forced to move with her. My big sister and I used to get into little arguments. Then she started getting physical and started pushing me around. One she almost drowned me under water in a lake until my dad saw what she was doing. My big sister made up a dumb excuse about how we were "playing". Another time she pushed me down the stairs and put her hands around my neck and picked me up like that. Just because I was little and stole something. She smacked me in the face and punched me in the stomach. I don't and haven't told anyone everything that has happened. When my big sister moved things were okay... Til my dad kept getting drunk. He would cut me down with degrading phrases saying "you're ugly and worthless. You are a mistake. I dont know why you are so stupid. You are completely fat and a disgrace to this earth." My little sister now hits me if she doesn't get her way. She kicks me, punches me, bites me, smacks me, and spits in my face. I don't do anything about it because I know I will get in trouble of I hit her back and if I tell on her my dad doesn't do anything about it. Sometimes I question why all this has happened to me. Why do I have to get verbally abused and physically abused? I question if I really am ugly and fat and worthless. I have scars in my mind from everything that has happened. I have been around abuse my whole life. I don't think this will end soon. I want out. I don't tell anyone what happens or act depressed because I don't want them worrying about me, but I'm over it, and I can't deal with it anymore.
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by Julius
(France)
i (32) might be wrong to write this here but i really have no place or person i can go and talk.
i met this woman (25) - it was a wonderful coincidence ... i thougt something like destiny(!?!?)- we really get along with each other and i saw us together in our future ... but well ....... her family is really really screwed up, i once was there and the impression i got , was nothing else than horrible, and after the woman told me some - even more - screwed up things about her childhood i was totally shooked. but that's not at all the problem ....
here comes the problem:
one evening - she slept over at my place - i thougt our realtionship was at the point where we could sleep with each other - but she freaked out and ran away ... well i first thougt she had a bad day or i got something wrong and she wasn't ready or something else ... so i asked what was wrong but she didn't wanna talk about it ... i tried again and then she freaked out even more extremly than the last time, she started crying and saying things like "i'm ruining our relationship, i'm runing everything ... "
there was just no sense why she would say something like that and i huged her and then she cryed and cryed and i didn't say anythhing untill she could actually breathe right .... well than i asked what she ment and what was wrong .. and then she told my that she was abused when she was a child - the guy was a boyfriend from her mother and it started when she was 8 .. we sat there and she told me all the things that this perv made her do, and after she finished, she was so afraid, that i would sent her away that she got a panic attac, of course i didn't sent her away,
i told her to get help, but she doesn't want help and now it's like that i have no clue what to do with the knowledge of what happened to her ..
i've noticed that i somethimes look diffrently at her - not in a bad way- and i treat her more cautionsly and even touch her with a little hesitation .. i don't know if this the right thing to do.
i really care about her and i really want that things between us work out - even with that "issue" (that's how she calls it) of her ...
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by Sarah
(Texas, USA)
I grew up without a father figure. It was always just me and my mom, and times were always tough. Money never came easily. My mom often worked 16 hours shifts to make it possible for us to get by. Then, when I was 11, my mom met HIM. From the start, I loved him like a father. He was the man that all the kids joked with and tackled. And I was going to be lucky enough to be his stepdaughter! I felt so blessed.
I was eleven or twelve when he touched me for the first time. Mom was pregnant with his child, my little brother. There had never been any men around, and I was completely unaware of the boundaries. My mom was at work that night. I was certain that I was going to start my period soon, and I wanted to be prepared. I was in the bathroom, reading a tampon box .He told me that he would show me how to put one in. I followed him into my bedroom and somehow, I do not remember how, I ended up without pants or underwear on, legs spread, laying on my back, at the end of my bed. All I remember is him "teaching" me, talking in a soothing voice the whole time, telling me about my vagina as he explored it himself. I didn't understand it, but it felt bad. But I trusted him too much to say anything. He was my daddy! He would never hurt me.
He told me not to say anything, and the touching stopped for a little while. When it started up again, less than a year later, he knew that I was a little more weary of him, so he waited until mom was off working and a he thought I was asleep. He would "accidentally" let me fall asleep in his bed. I would wake up in the morning with him rubbing his finger up and down on my crotch. That happened five or six times over a course of 6 years. There are probably more, but I'm still uncovering memories. Those 5 are just the ones I remember specifically.
I wish that was the end of it. When I was in 9th grade, my mom worked at petsMart. She worked closing shift for about a week straight. During that week, when I was thirteen, he took either pictures or video of me in the shower. I never got to see which it was on his phone. He also peeked around the curtain. At first, I did what I usually did and pretended everything was fine. Near the end of the week I finally decided to take a small stand. I hit his phone with my sponge and asked him what he was doing. He stopped using the camera phone after that, but throughout the entire time I lived with him, he made a lot of "accidental" visits with me while I was in the bathroom changing or undressing to shower.
There were several smaller events, but those are the ones that come to mind right now. I always felt that i could never tell, because i would split the family. We would be poor again, and that would make things harder for mom. I would lose all of his family. But I have a little brother, and for his sake, I had to tell. All of my fears came true, but things werent like i expected. Life is a million times better now that i am living without fear and my mom without a controlling husband. CPS has already been involved, and I'm in counseling, and I'm getting better. And he can never hurt me again.
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by Kate
(Brooklyn NY, USA)
My step father started sexually abusing me in 1959. I was 4 years old and shared the same bed as my mother. While he was having sex with my mother he was touching me. I would pretend I was sleeping. My mother would also let him bath me. this went on for years. I don't remember school or friends only my fear of going to bed at night. I have 3 brothers who were also abused bullied and beat up. We were always scared. My life was ruined. I was never happy. My whole life I was depressed. I could never keep a relationship I'm alone. And I want to expose him. He's living a happy and healthy life. I want the world to know he took my life away and what he did. And there is so much more he did. I don't know if there any thing I could do legally. Why should he get away with this.
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by Jamie S
(South Dakota, USA)
i have been sexually, physically and emotionally abused when i was younger. i am 15 now, the abuse started when i was 3 and went on til 2 days before my 11th birthday. the sexual abuse has impacted my life the most though. i was sexually abused by my older cousin who is now in South Dakota State Prison for it.
this day my parents were drinking as usual and i was upstairs sleeping and all i heard was the door creek open and i woke up. he started kissing me on my neck and then moved down.. he pulled my pants and underwear down and started touching me. i kept my eyes closed and just pretending nothing was happening. soon after that i blacked out and it was as if i was looking down at myself and it happening.
when he was done he just left the room and i laid there and cried. i never told my parents about it. i thought they'd get mad and blame it on me so i told my older sister and she got mad because it was happening to her also and she told my mom for me.
My parents never did anything about it. They tell me that they were scared also of what might happen to them but they didnt realize that them worrying about themselves they were putting me and my 2 sisters in danger and lots of other young girls.
My cousin would usually do stuff to me at night when everybody was sleeping or when nobody was home. for a long time i blamed myself for everything that was happening because i never told him no and i never told him to stop when he was doing it to my younger sister. but now i am getting help for it and it is getting easier to accept that i cannot change what has in the past and that its not my fault. i was the victim, i didnt do this to myself.
Now the physical and emotional abuse is something else. my parents were always into their drinking and partying i remember times when my mother would abandon me and my sisters because my dad wouldnt buy anymore alcohol so she left with my uncle and only god knows what they did when they were alone but my mom was usually the one that physically hurt me. she would hit us with wire hangers and brooms and anything she could find. my dad did most of the emotional abuse. he used to tell us that we are no good and that we spend more money then what we are worth and just stuff like that.
Most of the time i believed my dad when he would say that stuff to me because hes my father and he wasnt suppost to lie to me. and that and all the other ways i have been abused has led me to depression, attempted suicide and plenty other mental illnesses. i am now in counceling and just got out of a psych ward and i got help there. my parents still drink but not much. they havent really drank as much as they used to since ive been out of foster homes.
I was in foster homes for child abuse and i loved the family i was with. they treated me like i was their own but thats a different story.
But i am Jamie and that is My Story.
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by Dede
(New York, USA)
Feeling hurt, lost, and confused:
I am 13 years old. I am emotionally abused. I used to be physically abused as a little kid.
The physical abuse was being hit by a broom, wooden stick, being slapped, punched or having my hair pulled.
The emotional abuse is me being called disrespectful, rude, lazy, a horrible child, worthless, being cursed at, being compared to others, and being yelled at for standing up for myself. Being told not being her perfect child is another one. They also threaten to kick me out of the house.
Like yesterday my mom called me a liar and I stood up for myself by saying I am not a liar. She said that I am rude and disrespectful and that I am going to grow up and be a bad kid and no one will want to marry me or hire me for a job. When she called me a liar, I maturely and respectfully said "I am not a liar and that it is not fair and right that you called me a liar." My mom said that she is the parent and that parents are always right and kids are always wrong. She then said that I am free from her and she doesn't care what I do or where I go and that she doesn't care about me anymore. Then she asked if I wanted to live there, if I love her, do I want to be good, do I want to go on drugs and stuff like that. She then yelled "answer me." I maturely and respectfully said "What kind of parent would ask their kid questions like that anyway?" She was about to hit me, but I blocked her. She then started to cry and said that she doesn't care about me anymore and that if I say sorry, she won't take it cause I probably won't mean it. She said that I am a bad kid and she doesn't care about me anymore. She said that she knew I am bad and rude and that I am going to grow up and be a bad kid.
One hour later she was happy and fine because she let her anger out.
Later that day my dad yelled at me for something my sister did. I respectfully said "It wasn't my fault. My little sister did it and that you don't scare me by yelling at me." He said "Oh okay. Then I'll give you a reason to be scared." I said "I'll never be scared of you." He was about to hit me but I walked away. This is one of the many events that has happened to me.
I told my teacher about this. I really trust him and he helped me through this. I talk to him everyday and it feels good.
The problem is that sometimes my parents are good. But most of the time they are horrible and abusive. The only time they are happy with me is when things go the way they want.
My teacher is really helpful and I told him about my thoughts of running away. He said that running away is a bad idea because the world is a dangerous place and that I am a kid who can get hurt easily in this big world. He said that there are people out there who hurt kids badly and that the world is dangerous.
CPS is involved in this because he told the guidance counselor who called them anonymously. I've been lying to CPS because I don't want my parents to get in trouble and I don't want them to get mad at me and hurt me or kick me out of the house.
I hate coming home everyday because I am afraid my parents will get mad at me for something I didn't do or for something small like accidently breaking or spilling something. I am a smart kid who gets 1 or two bad grades at times and I have to lie to thema out that. I know if I tell them I got a bad grade, that they will physically hurt me or try to.
I want to tell CPS the truth and I want to tell my teacher that I don't feel safe at home sometimes, but I don't want them to get in trouble. I heard that foster homes are worse and I don't want to get hurt. I don't know what I should do.
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by CLB
(Location Undisclosed)
Confused:
i dont remember everything clearly. i thought it was every night. i dont even remember my childhood. it seemed like everyday and night but when i told my dad he said he didnt see it. im so confused. he said he saw it once in a while. but he wasnt around or home was he? i remember being slapped. i remember being chased and caught. i remember being grabbed and sort of thrown down and her standing over me. i remember my hair being pulled so hard. i remember my pants being dragged down and being spanked. i remember being hit as i was getting away from her. sometimes i was dragged a little and her nails dragging into my skin. i remember looking at the red on my back and butt and arms. i remember my mouth being filled with soap. i remember being overly punished for no reason. i wasnt that bad of a kid. i remember being forced to apologize for nothing. the door being slammed in my face. from 4-13. is this normal? is this abuse? am i making it up? i remember being threatened with a belt. and being thrown in my room, dragged really and locked in. alone. no supper. i know i wasnt the best kid but did i deserve it? she called me things. i was a brat, i was carless, stupid, later i was a b***h. i dont even remember the other names. i coudlnt do anything right and i am so confused. i remember being grabbed and insulted and guilted every night by her. being embarrassed and called names and hit. but am i making it all up? over reacting? im 15 now. and for years i was socially retarded, and had crazy thoughts, panic attacks and a server case of OCD. i still suck my thumb and basically dont have feelings. i cry randomly when people talk about things that remind me of her but i have no idea why i am crying. i feel like she did more to me then just hit me i feel like it was more severe but i dont remember. i feel so stupid. my dad doesnt understand, and told me basically i was making it up. i told my friend but she dismissed it and compared it to her problems. i am so confused. is it normal for your mother to treat you like this? to pretend to love you and say she does but then freak out at you and you dont even know what you did. to hurt you emotionally everyday and often physically. i am so confused. am i making it up? is this even considered as abuse? i feel so stupid...liek i am a liar. i had a serous lying problem as a young child. i could never face the truth. i dont understand. every time someone raises their hand i flinch because somewhere deep down i remember being hit. and i feel like whatever happened ruined me. im weird now. an out cast. no one understands me. i need someone who went through it with me. i dont know what to do. thats all i remember of what she did. the emtional was worse then i can explain.
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by Nicole
(Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA)
I use to go to a womans house that she turned into a babysitting job with two of my sisters. There was always other children there. She had a husband and two other children with another in college. I really dont wanna mention names. Most of the time during the summer we would go swimming, camping and we always had alot of fun. They also had five dogs who we all use to play with. Often times the children would go out to play in the gigantic backyard that my babysitter owned. I would be the only one in the house who got stuck behind doing homework. I started going there when I was about three years old but the sexual abuse started when I was around six or seven. As I said, I always got stuck behind doing my homework and my babysitters husband would come and help me. He would sometimes touch my privates and I wouldnt stop him because he told me that he would hurt me if I ever told anyone. He would try and stick his fingers up my vagina while I was doing my homework which hurt so badly. Sometimes the other kids and I would sleepover in the den and he would come and touch me while all the other kids were sleep. He would take me in his bedroom or his sons bedroom just so I could suck his penis and he would suck my vagina. He always smelled like weed so I guess he was high all the time. He would make me watch porn and he would try and stick his penis in my vagina but didnt get chances due to him hearing someone come in the house. He would try and be near me all the time just so he could make sure I didnt tell anyone. He would do these things repeatedly everyday that I was there. I stopped going to their house due to an altercation with his wife and my mom when i was 8. I am now 16 and still havent told anyone personally. But now the world will know by me posting this story. A story that I could never forget about. By the way i havent seen him or his family since then.
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by Michelle, Shelle for short
(United Kingdom)
I have always gone through life never really knowing who i am, i seem to have been around for others, i do their bidding, i care for others, i'm a caring person, i didnt want to grow up and be like my mother or my absent father, something inside me, from a young age somehow knew it was wrong to hurt another living being. Yet I dont know how old i was when the realisation hit me that what was happening to me wasnt normal. I thought it was normal, i thought all mums did what mine did to me.
I am in my 40's now, and even now i still struggle with the effects of what happened to me, mind you its taken a good few many years of fighting the memories and pretending my life was great for it to come back and hit me in the face, its as if something wants me to deal with it, so now i am a wreck, ive been having flash backs, nightmares, very problamatic dissociative episodes, {which i have been reassured in my case are due to abuse memories coming back} I am on a cocktail of nicely coloured medicines to deal with the depression, the memories and anxiety symptoms i suffer from.
I couldnt cope with the flash backs a couple of years ago, and something inside of me snapped, i lost it, i was hearing past distant voices telling me i was evil, that i deserved to be punnished, that no one would love me, that no one does love me, that i am nothing but a useless peice of flesh, then i would hear the screams of a child, such an awful scream. After i survived the suicide attempt, i was told these voices in my head were memories from my past and that the screaming child was me. Suddenly i got more scared, ive always heard voices in my head, lots of voices, children speaking, sometimes children crying, but i always kept it to myself, it was my normal, i didnt know any different, but now i was facing the fact that the voices are aspects of myself, my hurt self, that the dissociation i have used throughout my life to escape {albeit into a world of dream or of nothingness}from the violence and bad things that have happened around me. It sort of explains why i go distant sometimes or i go spacey as my friends call it.
I wonder if, when i first went to a teacher at school, after yet another stint in the medical room with stomache ache, if they had actually believed me when i said i was being hurt at home, that maybe early intervention would have stopped me struggling with my past now. I was 13 when i told the teacher i was being hurt, i didnt go into details, i just said my mum drinks and she hurts me, the teacher went off to tell another teacher, the sort of thing they do, later i was marched into the headmasters office and there standing, was a tall very pale dark haired lady who looked cross. i still feel my bodily reaction at seeing her, i stiffened up, i became afraid. i refused to talk to her. Maybe just maybe, if she had greeted me with a smile i wouldnt have been so frightened. i refused to speak. In the end she told me there would be a meeting at my house with my mother, that she would contact my mother to arrange this. I knew what would happen, i knew my mother would be the lovely person that she portrayed to the outside world, i knew i wouldnt be believed.
The meeting happened without me, i was at school. I walked home with the usual dread, in some ways hoping that i had been believed, deep down knowing i hadnt and that as soon as i walked in the front door i would be grabbed and beaten. i managed to escape from her clutches, i grabbed my white rabbit out of his hutch, carried him into my neighbours garden and confided in him, i always did this, and my neighbours garden was safer than my own because i could hide behind the wall. I made a promise that i would never trust an adult again, and that i would never cry again, because i learnt that crying and screaming never helped, no one ever came to save me.
I stopped feeling, although i felt enough to keep me safe, the usual alarm bells in my head would still ring, i would still be able to sense what was in store for me by placing my hand on the door handle after school, but when i was hit, pulled around by my hair, things shoved inside of me, i felt nothing, its was as if it wasnt me, even though it was.
Sometimes my nightmares are like this, i see through my eyes as an adult now something horrible happening to a child, i feel everything the child feels, but yet no matter how hard i try to move, no matter how hard i try to shout, i am unable to help her, i know that the her i see in my dream is me.
i was 17 years old when i was finally released from that abusive hell hole that was supposed to be home. If the authorities had believed me, i would have been helped at 13, however i was just turned 17 when i left home, too young to go it alone in an awful adult world. My social worker at the time said i had been let down by the system when i was 13, i should not have been left in that environment. Problem was the damage had been well and truly done, and its now i am suffering.
i carried on at college, i then went on to do my nurse training, i always wanted to help people,to give a care and unconditional love that i never recieved, deep down there is a part of me that just wants to make hurt people feel better, i cant make my own hurt go away, but i can damn well try to help someone else.
I have not gone into great details of the abuse i suffered as i feel i dont need to, however i would like to say if anyone is being abused now, or know of someone or a child, please tell someone, please get help for that person or for your self, please believe them. Because i know how it feels, as do many others to be abandoned by those who have the authority to help. i know times have changed and the last time i was abused was 28 years ago, there is much more support now compared to then, but it still goes on, still children get lost in the system, are not believed, and this is wrong.
One more thing, mothers can sexually abuse their children, i was my mothers victim, i couldnt speak out because who would have believed me? but please, believe me, it does happen, i know, because it was part of the abuse i suffered at my mothers hands.
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by Leeya
(Mozambique, Maputo, Africa)
Yes i've been abused and for your surprise by my dad, now i have you attention. I'm 18 years old now and very unhappy, im muslim i live in one of the country's in Africa, yes one of those black womens "but they are used to suffer", its not like that.
My mum pasted away when i was 11months old "how i wish she was alive" i grew up with my grandmother and my mums oldest sister then i went to live with my dad, he had better conditions so my grandmother lend me over, she wanted the best for me, i had s stepmum, man was she horrible, i remember her beating me, she passed away with her son when she was giving birth. that was the second wife that my dad lost.
life went on i cant complain im not poor and im not rich, we have enough for the better. life was good when i was i kid my dad had a good work, nothing missed in our home, always had cars, computers the best. My dad travelled to Australia to do Master and after 1 year and a half he came back to our country to take me with.
I was 11 years old when i went to australia, "and i thought it would be the best thing in my life" well it was until... One day was very hot and in my room didnt have the air con, it just had a fan, so i was sitting in my bed couse i couldnt sleep, my dad went past my room and asked what was going on, i told him that it was too hot and i couldnt sleep, he said to go to the living room that he would turn on the air con, i went, i was laying in the couch and he started grabing me from behind, "sad thoughts these is where my tears are comming out, but i will tell you everything" i found it strange but i layed there without moving i was a virgin and that night i lost my virginity to my dad, i didnt enjoy it and i didnt make a sound.
The next day in school i was feeling different so outside lie everybody was talking about me behind my back, i was feeling alone with nobody to talk to, in Australia i didnt have many friends, people didnt habg out with me becouse i could bearly speak english and it was really dificult to talk to me.
The funny thing was that i still had the thought that i was a virgin, for 6 month i was still thinking tha i was pure a virgin and during those 6months my dad at night would come in my room he would wait untill i was sleeping and it would happen the same thing againg and againg, -you must be wondering why i dindnt do anything, why i wouldnt scream- it was only the two of us in that house and when he would come in i didnt make a sound, i didnt know where to tell, one day i went to the beach with the neightbours and we came back a bit late he beated me up, and when i told that Australia is diferent to our country, that he couldent beat kids up he beat me up more.
Dont you dare fill pity for me, after 1 year and a half there were some days that i would cry myself to sleep, not having anyone to talk to me was frustating, i started cutting my wrists it was so fun, the pain was so relaxing whatching my blood it was my past time. "no please dont think im crazy i dont do it anymore, instead i somke and drink",, after 3 years and a half he finished he's master and we came back to our coutry. The only thing that i can say is that My country is on the coast its part of Madagascar.
Like it was so fun comming back home, when my mum pased away the time that i was growing i thought that my mum was her oldest sister so i called her mum even now i still call her mum, thanks to her she treated my alright.
i was 15 years old when we got back, i told my grandmother all that happened in Australia, and all she did was to say "okey honey but you have to study, we cant do much he's the one that has the money" in my head it was like she dind believe me. In the school were i was there was one of my cousins, son of my 'mum' he had a friend and we started dating, so that new boyfriend of mine did drugs so i learn to smoke with him, did ecstasy, there's a brown stuff that u burn than mix with cigarrtes i don know the name in english, yeah i did that stuff aswell, i raned away from home many times to go into clubs, i would dance and drink all night, and that was the only moment i would feel alive.
My dad turned he's back on my couse i wasent the doughter he wanted i was a shame for him "dude what the f***? ur the one who f***ed my life" i stopped going to school that year my father would always compare me to he's fancy friend sons, that they are in a higher grade then me, and they never been overseas and i have.
lots of bad things happened that year, sex to me was nothing, it was like a hobbie. that year went past but my dad touching me didnt stop. He meet a new girl "did i meantion when i was litle each day that went past my dad would bring a differnt girl home, i think i had over 500 hundred stepmums" that new girl of hes they are still together until today, i was happy for him, i thought that he would stop bothering me, but i still felt alone out of the world in my head.
After a year with that girl of he's, she was so nice only to find out that she was a snake "man im not lucky with people" i told her what my dad did to me and she didnt belive, she talked to my dad about it and he told her that i was crazy, well she didnt want to belive it was too much money for her to lose, the good life.
In 2009 i tryed suicide 3 times, dam why didnt it work.
on the end of 2009 i asked to go to a bording school, my dad putted me there.
PS: i had to be living with him becouse he's my only family i dont have anywhere to go, here in my country there is no fancy home for abused child or something like that, but today i study hard as soon as i can walk alone i swear that im never going to be looking at that mans face.
so in the boarding school was the best year of my life, i meet these girl, shes a trully friend she showed me the right way to life, i was happy there, my dada did send me money at the end of each month i didnt cry myself to sleep, but i was drinking a lot partying like every weekend, i dont regret people try to understand me, when im dancing like really high with the smokes and drinks i feel like my life is perfect, i feel alive.
That year whent past i had an amasing boyfriend that really loved my that helped me alot aswell, i dont tell him that i lost my virginity to my dad, i told him that i was raped, only my friend i told the truth, i dont tell many paople becouse i dont want to be descriminated having people say "look that girl lost the virginity to her father, and like he's a boss what a shame" nah i dont want that for me.
At the end of the year i thought about my life things were really going well, my dad during the years would call me everday he had changed, so i though of comming home to see how are things, now awe are living together the three of us.
Coming back home "big mistake" theres no peace thank God these new house has a lock in my bedroom, evryweek i cry so hard for my mum, i drink to forget that im missarable, i smoke before sleeping to not think too much, he's always comparing me to other people he never understands me i have to always understand him.
I dont respect him, im scared of him, i have to push lots of thing down my throat because i only have him in my life, "the world is round, i have to bond with my raper just to survive" i miss my mum even knowing that i never meet her, but im sure if she was alive nothing of these would be happening, i would be happy, i fell evryday like killing him but i cant, that would make me like him, so every weekend i just drink to forget everything then i take sleeping pills to sleep all day.
I feel i am going crazy. I don't know what i should do, i want a life.
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by Neil
(USA)
One of my oldest memories is the death of my mother. When I was about four she started doing drugs, I'm not sure which ones. When I was five she overdosed on something and she died right in front of me. I cried for hours before my father came home and took me out of the room. I'd never cried so hard in my entire life.
About a year or so later my Dad remarried, the woman seemed nice but she later proved herself to be nothing more than a sick twisted b***h who gets a kick out of beating little kids. The first time she hit me it was just a smack but I bawled like a baby and hid in my room until my Dad came home. I told him everything but he did nothing.
After about a year of constant abuse my Dad left the household. He didn't say a word, he just left. I can't say I blame him, the stress must have been astounding. Once he left the abuse went from the occasional slap to full on beatings. More than physical abuse there was verbal and emotional abuse. One thing she would do, I remember it well, she beat me until I couldn't even crawl away and my only way to survive was to relentlessly insult myself. She often locked me in the attic, I'd beg to be let out but she only did so of her own accord. Worst of all was that she would frequently "forget" to feed me for days at a time. Recently my doctor told me that the malnourishment had sped up my metabolism to a point where i'd be underweight for the rest of my life. Not only at home was a nightmare but school as well. Other children bullied me and I never had a single friend.
At the age of eight I decided to run away. I actually got away but my good fortune ended there. I ran into the person I loved and hated more than anyone else in the world, my father.
He and I spent that evening and the next morning together but to add to my saga of tragedies my happiness ended. Someone tried to rob my father and they succeeded, not only in that but in the murder of my father. He died in front of me and once he was gone all I could bring myself to do was hold him and cry.
Ever since that day I've been different, I used to be quiet but after that I always spoke my mind. The cops sent me into a foster center where I was traded by more families than I can count. I'm thirteen and I still don't have a family who can handle me.
The first two times I got sent back to the group home I tried to kill myself. Since then I've started doing heroine, meth, smoking weed, and occasionally drinking. I skip school to get high or drunk, it makes the pain go away for a while. I don't want to be like this anymore. I just want a family who loves and cares about me. Sadly I don't know if I've earned one with my recent actions.
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by Ashley H
(Michigan, USA)
i am 16 and have been abused since i was a baby. it all started when i was not even a month old my biological mom threw me around she let her boyfriends orally rape me and hit me. she was never home she never fed me or took care of me .she would leave me out side no matter what time of day or weather cause she was to busy f***ing diffrent guys and getting drunk and high with them. she also took sketching tools to my hands i still have some scars she would give me beer. she drank beer and did drugs before she had me to. i never neew my dad cause he told the gudges i wasn't his and with that he left me. my bio mom would also slam me against things if i woke her up from cring or she would lock me in a cuppored or closet. i didn't get taken away tell i was three years old. then i went to a lot of foster cares .when finally i got adopted i was still three. but the abuse in this house didn't start untile i was in 5th grade i got sexualy abused by my adopted dad tell i left on febuary 8 2011 then ever since i was in 5th grade my oldd adopted parents would also through me around they would back me in a corner and chock me and lift me up by my neck my adopted mom one time one i was five slapped me so hard across the face my lip started bleeding so she turned her self in just last october i got taken away cause she got charged for demastic abuse i got taken away for four months and she got put in jail for a day they would both call me a slutty wh**e and stupied skank they would leave brusies and scars on me from there beatings they tell everybody i'm lying and i just want to get back at them.I remeber ever hoilday at night my dad would sneak in my room and every night in between.
my friends could tell i was getting abused cause one day i came to school with my right side of my face scabed up cause my dad bashed my head into the air bag in his silverodo tell my face was bleeding. cause he said he couldn't find me it was at an after school detention. then this year the day before my birthday i got taken away and sent here to michigan they gave up there rights to me in march this year so i have to stay here tell these people find me a family. but i'm learning that it wasn't my fault i mean i still at times think it is but thats just me.
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by Judy
(Texas, USA)
From the day i was born till i was about 5 i was abused physically,sexually,mentally,and emotionaly by my dad after that i never saw him again till the day he was dying in the hospital. I have never seen my mom since the day i was taken away.
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by Michael
(Canada)
My dad is an alcoholic. Sometimes, he got drunk and started beating up my mom. The hardest part was hearing her cry when I'm trying to fall asleep. I was very afraid that one day he would kill her. I felt scared and insecure. I lacked affection from my dad and my mom was always too busy arguing with him. It had an impact on my school because I had trouble concentrating.
Also, I started playing video games alot because it was a great way to escape my worries. However, I quickly became addicted and it caused me to lose control over the time I play.
Nowadays, I play much less video games and don't consider it as an addiction. However, when I think of how unjust my father has been with me, I cry. And my mom keeps saying that it "wasn't such a big deal" or that it could have been worse. The worst part is when I see my friend's happy families and their dads giving them affection.
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by Laura
(USA)
Eldest Children can be targeted too:
I know the reason my mother targeted me was that I was unplanned and completely unwanted. She found out she was pregnant when she was 4 months along, and was told that an abortion was out of the question. I was born 10 days late, and because of that my mother could not go back to teaching that year (August baby). After that, my father decided she should stay at home with me.
BAD IDEA. I was beaten daily until I started school. I was locked in my room from the moment I got off the bus to the moment my father came home from work. If I wet the floor, I was beaten. If I made any noise, I was beaten. If I did ANYTHING wrong, regardless of what it was or if I even knew it was wrong, I was beaten. My golden child little brother, however, was BRILLIANT, perfect, beautiful, etc. I think my abuse changed him as well, though. I still love my brother; it wasn't his fault. It turns out I has Aspergers Syndrome (my son has it too); but of course, back then, it was not even on the radar as a diagnosis. So I was just this awful person.
The physical abuse ended when I turned the tables on her in desperation. I was not going down the stairs again. At the top of the flight, I flipped my wrists from her hands, grabbed her wrists and wrestled us away from the stairwell. I then told her if she ever hit me again, I knew where she slept and I knew where the knives were. At most, at age 12, I would be in Juvenile Detention until I was 18, and then I'd be out with a sealed record. And she'd be dead.
I left as soon as I could. I got along with my father very well, but my relationship with my mother was still very contentious. The verbal and emotional abuse I endured still, because my father asked me to continue the relationship. I dropped out of college for money reasons; however, for some reason there was enough money to send my brother through a Masters degree. Everything I did, everything I touched was worthless.
However, today I realized how much calmer the past 4 years have been. Then it struck me that my mother died almost exactly 4 years ago. I no longer answer the phone, unsure whether the person on the other end will tell me what a horrible person I am. I feel rather badly actually that I did not cry at her deathbed, when we took her off of the ventilator. My brother and my father were distraught. I was relieved. I didn't cry at her funeral, although everyone else, from her nieces and nephews, to her friends and neighbors all did. "What a lovely woman." They didn't know her like I did. It is sad that I do not mourn her death, but rather have happiness and relief in my belief that God knows what she did and she is being punished. My husband and children are always my focus and they are wonderful. My father is dating a very nice woman and he seems very happy in his 70's. Life can go on, just not the way I hoped at 4 years old.
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by Norma
(Pensacola, Florida, USA)
My father was phyically and mentally abusive to my mother until they divorced in 1976. I witnessed many violent events which was my father's way of dealing with life problems. I am now 47 years old, but every Easter I am reminded of one Easter morning when I was about 11 or 12. When my younger siblings and I got up that morning, we found the ham planned for dinner and all the Easter eggs cut into small pieces and smashed on the kitchen counters, walls, floor, ceiling, table, etc. Even more horrifying was the butcher knife sticking out of the wall.
Just recently I have realized this was child abuse.
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by Cassandra
(Ohio, USA)
I was wondering for awhile how do I even start. How do I even begin. It started from the sexual abuse to the emotional then to the physical abuse. You know whats worse is that im 17. I never had the chance to enjoy my child hood. I'll go to sleep at night having dreams of trying to tell my mom what my dad had done and what my sister had done and no one believing me and that I was a liar. But in the end I think that it does no good to tell a soul. But I want to get out and branch out to enjoy my life but on my mothers emotional abuse with me she said that she wont let me because she will be heartbroken and I will go know where in life.
It started out when my sister and I used to share a room together. And i was so young that I didnt know better. I was probably about 5. She always use to have me rub her back and everything. but my sister decided to take it to far one time. She wanted a head to toe massage. I'd rub her back and then say what next. she said stomach, feet, legs etc. Then she asked me to rub her breasts. and I did as told. Then she asked me to kiss them. lick them. Then she asked me to go down on her. I had no idea what that ment so i asked her. "let me show you" was what she said. and she showed me "Doesnt that feel good?" she said. Me not knowing better did what I was told.. It was probably a few years later that I finally figured out what had happened to me and that what she did was completely wrong and I feel embarrassed about what she had me do so I keep it to myself. Im so much older now that even if I tell someone nothing will get solved...
After that my sister moved out of my room and into a different room. I still slept with her for comfort reasons I was young and I didnt want to sleep alone but I didnt want to sleep with my parents either. I remember someone coming into the room at night and putting there hands down my underwear. The hands were big and rough. and I had my brother who was three years older than me so it couldnt have been him I was only 7 or so. So I put two and two together and finally realized those big rough hands were the hands of a construction worker.. my dad.. After that happened I was kind of quiet.. My dad would ask to give me back rubs while my mom was away and he'd rub my back and it felt like he was reaching to grab my boobs or trying to slightly put his hands down my pants without me noticing which made me feel really uncomfortable.. He'd ask all the time when my mom was away.. it finally stopped after last year. There would be times where he would just come up hug me and slightly put his hands down my pants. I didnt like that at all so I tried to avoid him. I dont know why someone could do things like this to there daughter. It scars me because i feel like its in the past nothing can fix it now..
My mom and dad as I was growing up yelled at me all the time. Ive herd things from "Im going to f***ing kill you" to "Your going to go know where in life.." I mean it sucks. My dad has grabbed me and yelled at me. Grabbed my face and yelled at me spitting in my face. its not fun to to look back on thinking yeah thats my child hood.. I think I finally had enough when we all moved in with my grandmother. She was an undiagnosed bi-polar because she thinks nothings wrong with her. I delt with her for a year. I had her throwing things at me calling me a spoiled brat. To having my aunt come over for christmas pinning me up against a wall screaming at me because i asked my grandma why she hated me so much.. Child services has been called on my family twice. But I was never aloud to be alone with them to tell them my story. Ive never told anyone about all the sexual abuse I went through. I just feel like theres no use.. My family is all I have. But I do feel like i need to get far away from them for awhile in order to find myself.
My mom she means well. With all the things that were going on I self medicated. Trying to find other ways to not think about everything by smoking marijuana. Drinking. Doing pills. Cutting myself Burning myself. anyway to try to get out of this hell I wanted to try it. It was no use I just ended up in a psychiatrist office. Which of course I never opened up too. I just open up to the emotional abuse and my psychiatrist saw a problem there tried to talk to my parents about it with just them two and she said that wont help her shes the one with the problems not us. and I never saw him again. But I told her i'd like to move out when im 18. Which is in 4 months. And she said no because im setting herself up for a heartbreak.. i do not have money. i do have a job. But Its just I wanna be far away from them I cant keep living like this because it hurts me having dreams all the time about what happened. I feel like I cant get over this unless I get away. I never got a child hood. Im now homeschooled I get my diploma in early august. But I never can get out of this house and I drive myself into insanity just sitting here in my room. My parents get upset if I leave. saying "you dont wanna be here with me" or you dont love me" and its not fair for me. My goal for myself is to try to tell my stories to middle school and high school kids. I dont want anyone to have the life that I have. I want them to enjoy there time being a kid. I dont want them to sit there like I did and and not tell anyone. You can get help.. But now Im just searching for my freedom and trying to find me.. Which is a harder task since im almost 18 still dealing with this pain.
Thank you for listening..
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by Jordan
(Perth, Australia)
Even though I have only been abused twice it still seems to haunt me no matter what. Im 17 now and I'm not excactly sure what age I was or who the man was but I must of been too young to remember. I have visions of being naked in a public looking toilet, but I thought there would of been witnesses or something. Obvioulsy not, but one of them is of a man raping me and my bottom really hurting. For a while after I would actually bleed a bit and when i would go to the toilet there would be blood when I wipe. The other vision was of me being forced to have sex with a girl about my age then witnessing her being raped. I have had interests in girls about that age because I saw what they look like at that age. There hasn't been sexual fantasies but just interests in them. I went through a stage of depression because I thought this was wrong and I told my best friend only last year about this (she is also an abuse victim). She told me its nothing to be worried about as long as its not sexual, if and when it is then I should see a psych about it. So now I don't worry myself too much about it. I think about it still but not as much.
Thanks for reading and if you have been in a similar situation where you don't remember the person or certain things, you are not alone and your not a liar. If it affects you see a councillor or a psych. Don't suffer in silence.
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by Emma
(USA)
As I sit here writing this it brings a world full of despicable deeds and hatred back into my view. What could have triggered such awful behavior? Not behavior, actions.
On September 16, 1983 someone broke into my family's home, murdering my parents, and my older sister. I was 1 at the time and the man took me. He then proceeded to rape me, and beat my sides. I grew up knowing this man as my " father". At 15 he forced me into prostitution in order to make money. He would spend it on drugs and alcohol. When he was drunk I would hide under the bed. He made us travel hotel to cheap hotel places where he like to go so he could have sex with me (without consent). My life just didn't seem to matter anymore. I survived 2 suicide attempts. When I was 17 we were traveling to a gas station when a woman found me and rescued me. She remains my savior to this day. I now have a hubby and 3 beautiful children. I suffer from severe depression. I have daily sessions with my therapist and my family keeps me going.
God bless you all
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by Jireh
(Philippines)
I Want To Get Out Of Here:
You make me feel worthless
And you fake a lot too
And all I want in my life is happiness
but I can't get through
Your violent manners
that you keep these hours
Faking to everyone that your a good mom but your not
your not an angel as they thought
Your a control freak
Who thinks I'm a lousy geek
Your after the money and fame
and I hate it when you scream my name
saying I'm a worthless child
only if they knew how you can be so wild
you left me before
just because I didn't give you the money you asked for
So many times I tried to end my life
having temptation with a knife
but thank God that He reminded me
that soon enough i'll break free
I'm gonna strive hard and who knows might become a star
i'll make sure that i'll go far
and when I do
I'll stay far away from you
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by Keysha M
(Colorado, USA)
So how do I begin this awful tale of love and lust, mixed together so perfectly that even he couldn’t tell the difference? I was about 4, barely out of diapers when the abuse began, the sexual abuse anyways for the physical abuse had been going on since I was born. I don’t exactly remember how it started or what caused him to take me into the bathroom and strip me of my precious clothing. At first I thought I was getting a bath, nothing new right?-Wrong! Instead he started up the bath, locked the door and started touching me… and eventually did something that caused me so much pain. I think I started to cry but he held his hand over my mouth and even under the water for a while until I nearly passed out. Luckily I don’t remember anything after that, and honestly I don’t want to. But somehow I survived it.
This cycle continued on and off for years. Things got really nasty when I was 6. I remember laying naked on top of my tiny twin sized bed looking up at my father and one of his friends, their eyes glistening with lust. I remember my father lying on top of me, naked while his friend watched. That was his thing, having other men watch or even participating in the act. It wasn’t till year’s later when I fully understood what had happened and how it would affect me for years to come… Along with the sexual abuse with my father, he also had a temper. He would hit me, my mom who at the time was very deep in her depression to realize what was going on with me… and even my other younger siblings.
I was basically a sex toy for my father and his friends-and sadly even his drug dealers. My father was deep into crack cocaine and something else, what I still don’t know, nor do I wish to know. I’m just lucky I never caught anything from him or his pals… Well lucky for him too. Could you imagine how embracing it would be to go to the clinic with his young daughter and find out she has an STD, when she should still be a virgin? Hmm, sometimes I wish I had caught something, just so that the truth could have come out earlier and prevented what came next.
After what happened when I was six my father started getting more aggressive about the sexual encounters. He started to choke me during the act, and even to the point where I passed out. At one point he started hitting me, at first on the ass, but then on the chest, leg and even the face but he soon stopped after people started asking questions. He always blamed it on how clumsy I was but we both know the truth. The sexual acts ended around the time I was 10, the same time I became depressed and got kicked out of my elementary school due to racism since I was Hispanic and the new principal was white and hated that fact that my father was Mexican.
Soon after being kicked out, the sexual abuse stopped. Allowing my fragile mind to block and even erase some of the abuse. But the physical and mental abuse got worse, far worse. I became quiet, and even sometimes I was just a guardian for my younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less. I felt like the only reason for my existence was to keep him from touching them, and being my mom’s only friend who she would constantly cry to about her problems, about his abuse. I remember lying in bed every single night praying to god, a god, any god for me to die. For my death to be a blessing to my family and make this pain go away. I even started cutting to control my emotions, to control my pain. I wanted to die because at the time I honestly believe it was my entire fault. That the only reason my parents were fighting was because I was a f**k up, a failure in their eyes. Which wasn’t true at the time, but later on it soon came to be true.
When I was 13, 3 years since my father had touched me sexually, my mom decided she had enough and filed for divorce. I remember standing by my mom’s pink mustang, watching the police officers lead my dad across the street towards his mom’s house. I had to hold my little sister who was maybe 6 at the time, as she cried for him to come back. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched my abuser cry empty promised to her, promises that he loves her and he’ll never leave her. Promises he couldn’t keep. Promises I didn’t want him to keep. Soon after that I started acting out for the first time. I became more violent towards everyone, going so far as to physically abuse my younger siblings. It became worse when my mom was trying to be friends with my father, and had him around all the time. I was a complete spoiled brat or so my mom had called me not understanding why I was in pain. I couldn’t even be in the same room as him, but no one could understand or take the time to. I was becoming more depressed, to the point where I tried to kill myself, when I was left home alone one night, while everyone else went and got something to eat and I wasn’t allowed to come because I was acting out. Which I hope they regret it the moment the truth comes out. I swallowed a handful of my Allergy meds hoping It would kill me, but as soon as I realized what I’d done I went straight to the toilet and forced myself to vomit up the pills. And the only person who knows about that is my mom, but it took me years to tell her and even then at the time I didn’t understand why I felt that way.
Right around the time my mom kicked my biological father out, I started having nightmares of having sex, and being raped by my father. At first I tried my best to avoid it but it soon started becoming the only thing on my mind. To make things worse If I wasn’t dreaming about being raped by him I was dreaming about crawling into bed with my siblings and touching them, using them to fulfill my own sexual needs. I hate myself for thinking it, dreaming it and sometimes how I wanted to go into my brother’s room so badly and touch him, or have him touch me, but I didn’t. I was able to control myself. I know I should go to counseling for it, which I will but as time went on the need to do this faded. I just glad I was strong enough to resist that sickly desire. That I didn’t turn into the monster who hurt me…
I’m 17 now, pregnant with my own child and I can’t help but look back and wonder what makes a person do that to their little girl? I still don’t see it and I doubt I ever will but at least I came out of it alive. I know this might sound strange but I don’t have any hatred towards my father regarding the sexual and physical or even emotional abuse he caused me, since it’s possible he suffered from abuse at a young age to, but I do hate him for hurting my younger siblings. It’s one thing if he ruined my childhood, but they’re innocent still or have a chance to come out of this stronger than I could have ever had. I plan to start counseling as soon as I can, and I’m currently trying to charge my father with this. I’m not doing this for me though; I’m doing this to get my siblings out of his custody and to prevent him from hurting them further with the abuse. And I hope in the long run they’ll see that all I’m trying to do is help them, and not hurt them.
Thank you for reading this.
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by Tamara
(New South Wales, Australia)
well, im not to sure how to put this, im not good at this stuff. it started when i had to stay at my dad's parents house for the night while the family went somewhere, i was only 6 or 7, i dont remember the dates or time but i remember the incident oh so well. my dad's step dad was touching me in innapropriate ways while i slept. i was so scared, i got up to go to the toilet and he had followed me and tried touching me while i was in the bathroom. i never wanted to stay there again, and i didnt tell anyone. but my parents made me stay there a few times (un-aware of what had happened) he made me sleep in his bed everytime i stayed, i remember always waking up and my pants and underwear wear always off the bed, on the other side. i eventually told my mother (via a note) one afternoon when 'nan & him' had dropped me off at home. we went to the police and i had tests and stuff done at the hospital, we had to travel around so i could see counsellors etc. then my sister (one year older then me) came forward and said he had tried touching her as well. mum was terrified, full of anger & pain. knowing someone we all trusted had did this to our family.
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by Cheyenne
(Phoenix, Arizona, USA)
It was bad enough being married to a sick man who needs to put everyone down to hide from his own demons. Now he is doing it to my 12 year old son whose behavior and attitude have dramatically changed in 6 short months.
I divorced the narcissist and he is so cunning he fooled the court shrink that was evaluating him to believe I was the crazy one and got 50/50 custody.
My health took a turn for the worse 3 years ago and I lost my ability to work and have my son every other week. Being stuck in AZ alone and now very sick, I had to stay with this ex-monster so I could be with my son and not have visits in homeless shelters.
I am a big girl, I ignore his nasty comments about how ugly, fat, lazy, stupid I am but now that he's smoking pot often in secret, his mental illness is destroying my sons life.
I don't know how I can get help for my son and I when he knows how to fake his illness. He wont even allow me to take my son out to lunch (which would really be counseling appointment) because he will throw me on the street again if he gets mad.
He says my son doesn't need counseling, he says he's a lazy boy (never mind straight A's for 6 years) he says I'm the reason my son doesn't do things exactly like he does.
I need him hospitalized or committed so my son and I can get help. We need help!!!
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by Nicky
(London, England)
I am a 22 year old female survivor of childhood sexual abuse. my life had led me down many complicated paths and i am just at the start of the hardest one so far. sorry if i waffle quite a bit but i have a lot to get off my chest.
I suppose i need to start before i was born for you to fully understand my family situation, well here it goes. my mum (J--) married her highschool sweetheart (P--) and they had 3 beautiful little girls. things were very tight money wise for several years and P-- was working all the time which understanably put a lot of pressure on their relationship, this is when my mum had an affair which resulted in her fourth pregnancy (me). I was born in December 1988 and my mum and P-- decided that i would be brought up thinking P-- was my real dad just like my sisters. from what i remember, this time that we spent playing happy families was brilliant, as far as i was concerned i had a mother and father who loved each other and three sisters who were fun to play with.
but things soon changed. when i was about 2years old my biological father (K--) demanded that he would become involved in my life and so i spent half my time in his flat. he had a small 2 bedroom flat and did not work. the first thing i remember about staying at my father's house is that he was never alone there, he had a group of friends that would come around to play cards in the evenings, these nights i was allowed to stay up late and the other men would chat to me. it wasnt long until things started to change. i must have only been about 2 and 1/2 years old when one of the guys turned up with a present for me, i was a typical little girl and loved anything pink or princess related so i was over the moon when K--'s friend gave me a pink princess outfit with fluffy bits on the top and bottom. he said that he would help me get changed into it and in doing so he completly stripped me off and would not let me put my knickers back on underneath the dress. he put on some music and got me to dance around the room, wearing only this very short princess dress, while he sat on the sofa and masturbated. the other men and my father had gone out of the room by this point to give him some privacy. after the men had gone late that evening i asked my father what the man was doing, he explained to me that he liked me and wanted me to be his special princess and if i did things to make him happy, he would give my dad some money to buy food and general necesities. it was from this day forward that the men started to compete to spend time alone with me. each evening they would start with a game of cards and whoever won was allowed to take me into my bedroom and spend 1 hour alone with me and do whatever they wished. i would beg my father not to let them hurt me but he just said that this was the way things had to be and that if i wanted to be able to afford food i had to make his friends happy.
the first of my father's friends to attempt penetrative sex was M--, he was the youngest of them all and when it was his turn to spend time alone with me he didnt say a word. he just pinned me to the floor and forced himself into me. I didnt understand what was happening as until this point the men had only touched and made me touch them. this was different, this was painful. I think i was probably about 3 years old by this point but i have no way of knowing for sure. i just lay there crying but making no sound. i couldnt believe the amount of pain that one person could cause and was just watching the fish in my fish tank swimming round and tried to pretend that i was somewhere else. its amazing the power of imagination, over the years it took a lot of practice but i became able to completly disconnect from what was happening and it would be as if i were in a completly different place. after this first time i was bleeding, he left the room and my father came in. he didnt say anything but he just scooped me off the floor and took me to the bathroom. he sat me in the bath and filled it with warm water.
Well things just went downhill from here, the abuse became more and more full on and aggressive and if the men weren't satisfied at the end of their session, i would be beaten. i know you are proably thinking why wouldnt i tell anyone or how wouldnt my mum notice that something was going on, but its hard. unless you have ever been in that situation you will never understand how difficult it can be to tell. i was under 3 years old when it started so i never really knew that it shouldnt be like that. obviously it was painful and it didnt seem right but my father would just tell me that this was what little girls had to do and that it was very rude to talk to anyone about it, and that if i did then i would be in trouble and would be punished.
it wasnt until i was about 9 years old and that we started learning about sex education in school that i actually realised the extent of what had been happening to me all these years, yet i still didnt have the courage to tell anyone. i was embarrased and scared, but more than anything i just didnt know how to put it into words. so instead i ran away. i gathered some stuff together and got on a train to central london, i was missing a total of 13 days before i was found by the police. in that time i did whatever i could to survive. i was only 9 years old but i managed to find food and places to sleep. i met a 17year old girl who was also living on the streets and we stayed together for a while until i was taken home. this is when it all came out. i was placed in a temporary foster placement while they interviewed my mother to be sure she wasnt involved in the abuse then after 2 months i was returned home to my mother, P-- and my sisters. my Father got sentanced to 15 years in prison and it turned out that i wasnt the only girl that he did this to. when i was at home with my mum he would bring other girls to the house and do the same to them.
when he finally went to prison, P-- petitioned to adopt me so legally i had the perfect family i had always wanted. what went on in my Fathers home never got spoken about again. everyone but me seemed to be able to just pretend it never happened. but i wish it were that simple. for me i will never forget the things he did. i didnt hear anything from him for years until 10 years later he was released from prison, 5 years before his sentence was due to finish. he wrote me a letter begging my forgiveness and wanted to see me and become part of my life again, but i couldnt face it. maybe if i had tried then he would still be alive today. the next thing i heard from him was his suicide letter that he sent through the post to me. i cant even put into words how guilty i feel. if i had just shown the slightest interest in him when he was released then he might not have done what he did. i know i can never take that back now, its too late, but i cant forgive myself. i am responsible for his death. me and no one else.
well it is now 2 years on from his death and i was starting to cope with everything. i have a stable job and a new group of friends who know nothing about my past which makes it easier to pretend i am a normal human being. but last week i got some news and i dont know how to tell anyone. i have been diagnosed with oropharyngeal cancer and need to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. i just want a normal life for a while. is that too much to ask? how am i supposed to get passed this. the doctors have said that i am looking at a minimum of 2-3 years of treatment and that is IF everything goes to plan. when will my luck pick up?
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by Laura A
(Detroit, Michigan, USA)
Abuse As a Child By Uncle - Godfather:
When I was young My father had visit with us children and he took us to NewYork for a visit to see his brother ,which is my uncle -godfather. He started To rape my sister first then I hit him and then he raped me and then after finished .He went after my brother in the back room and he pulled a knife on me so I was not able to protect him at all.It had gone on for years and when we came back home .We told our Mom and She called the Police and the police officers had my brother and my self react it out. He also raped my cousin and my 2nd cousin. He was sent away to a mental hospital.When I became adult with my own children I would not let him near my daughters at all .He tried to get them to come upstairs where he was and they told me and the police wouldn't do anything to him. When I found out he had already died I was happy because he could never ever hurt me or anyone else that I loved.
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by Liz'beth
(Location Unknown)
Last night i lay awake trying to think about whick story i should start with: the might-have-been-a-dream-but-i-an-not-for-sure story or the i-know-this-happened-for-sure story. then i wanted to stop thinking about it because i didn't want to deal with it right then. i no i will have to think about it and deal with it some time, just not right now. not while i'm 13, in middle school, and still living out my child hood.
i decided to go with the might-have-been-a-dream story, because that happened first. I dont remember much of it but there is one part i will probably remember all of my life. I remember it was my cousin-at-the-time who did it. One night there was my other cousin-at-the-time some one else and me. he told us about a game. we would get in the closet and he would call us out one at a time. we went in the closet and he called me 1st. and...yeah. well we moved out of that house and moved into a house not very far away. one day we (my step-mom, but not rilly: the marriage was never official, and me) went by that house and i told her wat he did to me. after that there was a lot of doctors and police stations. well the results came back negative. but i remembered some of it. every one told me it was just a dream. when we got back home, she sent me to my room, and after that she would ground me for every little thing.
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by Rebekah
(California, USA)
I read a story that seemed alot like mine, and it made me relize that maybe I'm just screwed up in the head. let me just start by saying that i dont FEEL like it was a molestion case. but I dont know if thats because i have a deep guilt, or if its because it wasnt. when i was about...well crap. i cant remember my age. the memory is fuzzy to me for some reason. i was most likely around 6 or 7. my cousin asked me if i wanted to show eachother our booties. I was curious and a little boy crazy (even at that age) (i think it comes from growing up without my biological father in my life) and so i agreed. we went into a dark closet where we pulled our pants down and well, i looked at him and he looked at me. this is where i feel like its my fault. after all, i did go willingily into that closet. or at least thats how i remember it. I remember getting uncomfortable as my cousin seemed to really enjoy looking at...me. the next thing i remember is my aunt bursting into the closet. then i remember her sitting my on the bed and asking me what happened. buti couldnt tell her. i kept crying and crying. i remember a sense of embarresment. I dont know if i am remembering it all correctly, if i've made up justifactions in my head, or if that really is the way it went. it hurts tho. the memory very much hurts.
this all being said. this event affected me deeply. i masterbated at a very young age, and could not (for the life of me) stop until i lost my virginity at 17. i worked VERY hard at keeping myself till marriage but my hormones drove me absolutly wild. I am not homosexual AT ALL (not homophobic either) yet as a young girl my best friend and i two different sexual experiance togather. we both remember but dont talk about it. its an unspoken rule between us. I became extremly anorexic at age 9, and have been healing ever since. I dont even understand my logic to it at that age. its notlike i had any problems with self worth. if anything i was rather vain until i learned the importance of inner beauty. ive always been sweet natured, but ive been cursed with beauty, and I very well knew it as a child. (although then considered it a blessing) I try my best to block all those memorys out. even worse my cousin is not a registered sex offender, unable to live with his mom due to what he did to his little sister. (which by the way, he isnt a sex offender because of what he did to his little sister. he's a sex offender for many cases.) and i feel like its my fault. i feel as though if i hadnt gone into that closet with him he would be different.
I want to say that I am clear of problems but im not. I'm a healing co-dependent, i struggle with anorexia even still, I dont have the ability to stay single for very long, Ive been in two different emotionaly abusive relationships, my relationship with my long term nonabusive boyfriend isnt all about sex, and i know i could be happy without it in the relationship but yet i cant seem to get enough of it. and i feel so screwed up. im sorry to dump all this but i feel like im finaly telling the truth. no moderations or anything, just the truth. and it feels good. even if i get no replies, im happy to have been able to write this, and if your reading this (still) thank you for listening.
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by Chava
(Location Undisclosed)
i know i am not perfect
but fate you are unfair
she is my only mother
so why'd she pull my hair?
so why'd she always slap me?
a bar of soap right down my throat
and i was only seven
back then i still had hope
i tried my best for perfection
but one slip was still the end
its funny how when you pull someones hair
how far back their back will bend
my arms were always throbbing
her grasp a faint red mark
my eyes were always sobbing
to hear her snide remarks
and when she'd slap, or throw me down
or with a belt she'd chase me round
or when she'd drag, pull my pants down
and slap my butt a snapping sound
or when she'd call me bitch or brat
or bad little thing, and things like that
and when she'd embarrass, mock, and imitate
then call me abuser, voice full of hate
and after this she'd always say
i love you now and everyday
then why dear mom would you ever say
such things to me if you really felt that way
i remember when i was barely four
hiding by the bathroom door
and looking in the mirror to see
the marks the spanks this day had given me
i ask you now what i ever did?
maybe now but not when i was a kid
i did not deserve your slaps or spanks
or grabs or jabs and pulls or yanks
or bars of soap right down my throat
or therapists so i could cope
i did not deserve your threats or stares
or ignoring me, so i would care
or nails in skin, that is not fair
or face in face, with spit on mine
so i was sometimes bad sometimes id whine
but why oh mom
why would you always explode?
and ignore my pleas for love
and so dear mom i wrote this ode
to express all that above.
i am not sure what i experienced, i was not beaten. i was chased, and grabbed, and slapped, and sometimes dragged, my hair was pulled, my mouth washed out, i was spanked, and sometimes hit, my mother would stand over me her face right up in mine, shed call me names, and mock me and dig her nails into my skin.
my story is not as bad as others on this site, it may not even have been abuse.
my mother would turn on me for no reason, with out notice, for nothing all of a sudden i would be the worst child in the world and the next second she loved me with all her heart.
scenario: i was pouring some orange juice and i accidentally spilled some, my mom would freak out, shove me out of the way and scream at me about how careless i am and how i never pay attention and how i am such a bad girl, mind you i was only around 8, and of course i would scream back and thats when she would begin to chase me and slap me, she sometimes chased me around with belt, and when she caught me she would wrestle me down, take down my pants and hit me. and when i say scream i mean scream at the top of her lungs. then after this she would leave me alone and shut her door and leave me out side it, and then she would come out and act as if nothing happened, or make me apologize for about a hundred things that i never did, for being "rude" "careless" "talking back" "bad girl" etc. or she would completely forget about it until later when i did something wrong and she would literally explode at me, i don't know if this is abuse or if i am just over reacting, i know this isn't as bad as you hear about and i was just wondering if this is how normal families are. this type of situation happened around once a day...to four times a week from about 3-4 years old to 13. i am 15 now and she still explodes but thanks g-d she hasn't tried to hit me after she got cancer. thank you.
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by Kathryn
(Arkansas, USA)
My mom had me when she was 16 months from her 17 birthday. She was raped by her babysitter's boyfriend. He was also in jail for having sex with a 13 year old i imagine he is in jail right now. I have never met him and I will never want to. My mom married my step father when I was 5.I moved between my mom and grandmothers from birth till I was 6 they switched fought for custody for a long time. The abuse started when I was 7 or 8 he hit me and my mom everyday and would hit me so hard i would either be bruised or bled. Then they had my little sister and the beating continued. Then they had my 2nd sister and one day he had mom by the neck against the wall she was 7 months pregnant with thier 2nd daughter. Then a friend of family came by and thats when hell started i was 10 or 11 and he raped me till i was 14 and yes i told but all he did was run. My mom begged him to come back because she needed money he would give her between 500-1000 bucks a month and she made me go to his house knowing what was happening. She then got pregnant with my step dads 3rd daughter he only ever beat me and my mom and my mom often beat me as well. When my youngest sister was 2 my step dad admitted he was having a affair and left my mom. My mom vandilzed his car and went on probation and had to pay fines. I never got hit after that. But I kept being raped 4-6 times a week and my mother didn't care because she needed his help more than ever with 4 girls. My step dad soon got custody of his 3 daughters. But I found out from the oldest of the 3 he was hitting them she begged me not to call anyone because she doesn't want to be seperated from her sisters and be put in a worse house so i havent she turns 15 soon. It's now 2011 and I live with my abuser we have 2 sons together he doesnt know it but I will be leaving in Feb of 2012 when i can afford my own car. Right now i am in college to be a cna so that I can have money to leave. I am 20 now of course now that I am older he doesnt even think of touching he guess he was just a child preditor also because of his age the boys have suffered behavior problems and developmentle delays.
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by Olivia
(South Africa)
I was not only abuse by the one I trusted but the one I loved my stepfather. It hard to think about it because it hurts. I cant even talk to anyone even my mother because she might be worried. My step father always said I should sit in his lap I sat because I thought he loved me as his daughter. I was 8 years old when this happened. I still feel very hurt I swear I will never forgive him. Thank you for finding time to look at this.
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by Lyn
(Location Undisclosed)
I have shared part of my story before but under the name of Anonymous. The sad part is, it wasn't even half of it. I feel as if i should tell some more. To tell my whole story would take way too long, but I will disclose more. My mother did smoke and drink a lot. When I was about eleven years old, I walked into my mom's room and she was sitting on her bed smoking. She's a miserable woman. she said to me "Baby, have a cigarette. Mama doesn't want to smoke alone." From that day on she made me smoke for about a year. I hated it. I would sometimes pretend to inhale but she knew when I was faking. Finally I stopped. She tried to get me to smoke pot as well, but I refused. One time, I attempted suicide. I swallowed almost a half of bottle of loratab. I passed out. I was unconscious for a few days. I remember waking up days later in the back of our van. (That must have been where I passed out) I walked in the house and my mom was just sitting on the couch. She said, "finally. Where has your lazy ass been?" It was obvious that she knew what had happened but she didn't want to get in trouble so she didn't even take me to the hospital. It scares me now that I could have died. I pray that I will never do something so stupid again. But I can't shake the feeling that if I wasn't here I wouldn't have to feel this pain. My mother is alone and miserable now. I am sure she will die before too long because she is ill and does not take care of herself. I'm switching foster homes for the billionth time and I hate it. I always leave that foster home unhappy. My siblings are getting adopted but I am not. It worries me that I will be alone forever. Life is so hard. Sometimes I ask my mom why she did the things she did but she says I'm a liar. I had to testify against my uncle and he's in prison now. But, now I'm getting all of this hatemail from his girlfriend. She thinks I'm a liar too. It seems like everyone hates me. Everyone tells me that I'm beautiful but I don't believe them. The weird thing is, I hate people like me. I hate that I have low self-esteem. I pretend to be strong and I'm very outspoken and outgoing, but on the inside I'm devestated. I'm in this deep depression that I can't get out of. The pain is so bad. I don't know what to do. It hurts so bad. When I'm around people at school, it bothers me that they don't know the truth. Kids joke around about abuse, and rape and things. I hate when they do that. I feel like Screaming I WAS ABUSED!!!!!!!! I've talked to people in person. I've shared my story to a therapist, PSR worker, my foster mom and others. It still kills me inside. People ask me: what makes you most happy? My answer: knowing that some day I'll be out of this hell. I'll be successful and happy. Then they ask: What makes you most sad? My answer: Waking up each day, and realizing that everything that happened the day before wasn't just a bad dream. that all this pain I feel is real. It hurts so bad. My new foster mom says she loves me. She says she wants me to be happy. She cries for me. She wants me to accept her as my mom. It hurts her so badly that I don't. She doesn't understand why. She was abused as a child and she still doesn't understand. She wonders why I don't accept her husband, no matter how hard he tries to get me to like him. It's because I'm afraid of men. Why can't they understand that? She holds me and she cries and she wants me to hold her back, but I just can't. I'm worried that she'll get sick of me. I love her more that anyone knows. I'm worried that this pain won't go away. I can't help but cry right now. It feels as if someone is driving a knife into my heart. I know I'm talented. I'm smart. I always do my hair and makeup just right. I cook and I clean for everyone. I volunteer at a hospice. I carry groceries for the elderly. I go to hospitals and I hold people's hands who are dying. I never know them. they wonder why someone my age would care about them, a total stranger. why do I? I love them, but I don't love at all. Time goes by too slow but at the same time, way too fast. I feel so much, yet nothing at all. What is wrong with me?
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by Angel
(Canada)
When I was about 8, my dad's high school friend came to see our family and stayed with us for 3 days. He was really nice to me and brought me a gift. On the second night, he came in to my room and when I woke up, he asked me if he could use my bathroom (there's no bathroom in the guest room). When he finished, he came to my bed and sat beside me. I thought he wouldn't do anything bad because he was a family friend. He start to talk to me and when I mentioned how late it is, he went back to his room. Next night, he came again, but did not leave when I told him; then he start to talk to me again. After a few minutes, he begin to touch me and kept doing it even though I told him to stop. After another few minute he left. He left the next day and I never seen him again.
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by Cheyenne J
(Wyoming, USA )
It happened when I was like 12 yrs my mum boy friend moved in with us and when it was about three mouths he stared to act really weired he would al was look at me and my two older sisters and well one when mum was out he raped me I felt so disgusting and the only one and when mum came home i could not tell her . Later he startared to do when mum was home when we would sit on the couch (me and my little sis) he would sit buy us and rub my leg and took my hand and touched him . He even made us watch a porno and u might ask me what my mum did she watch it all happen. Later I got the nerve to tel my real dad and he almost killed him and he got charge and got sent to jail I haven't talk secns and now I feel fine with telin my storie becuz ur NOT THE ONLY ONE!!!!!!!!!!
To this very day my mum denies it and say that she coulnt do any thing cuz she was on drugs (,no sh*t) and now I am 14 I no how to help ppl that has the same problem or had . It helps talkin about it p.s I leave with the only one that help me my real dad.
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by Joyce H
(Georgia, USA)
I am 16 years old and I was sexually abused by my dad when i was 5 years old my mom was working at the time and my dad was drinking i guess he had to many beers,well he started rubbing my leg and told me what he was doin was for my own good,that he didn't want anybody else to hurt me.I didn't know what he was doin because if you think about it i was only 5 so i didn't really understand what was goin on.I was so confused then when he forced me to have sex with him, i started crying because i didn't know what it was and it hurt really bad.My mom got home and asked me what was wrong, i didn't know what to tell her i looked over to my dad to see him giving me an evil look like if i told i would be in serious trouble.SO i just went to my room,i went 10 years before i told somebody what happened to me, how i lived that long knowing my dad did that to me and i hadn't told anybody and he is just sittin there free.It deeply kills me and when i told my mom she did not believe me,it hurt me so bad that she did not believe me but when she heard the truth and that he really did do that she was so hurt,and now how she lives with that i don't know and how i still think of him as my father i don't know.I asked my dad later on when i got older how he could do something like that and why he done it he just told me that he had to much to drink and didn't know what he was doin,part of me wants to believe him but part of me also doesn't know what to do.
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by Linda
(South Australia)
im 17 almost 18 and from the age of 2 up until i was 16 i had been emotional and physicaly abused by my step mother, when i was 2 i was taken away from my real mother for reason i still dont know, i was raised by my father and his girlfriend they were young about 18 at the time, my step mother would stay home and "look after" me whilst my dad was at work. she use to through things at me like shoes and kitchen wear, anything she thought she could hit me with that would leave a mark but would still cause pain, dad never found out, when i started school at the age of 6, i once went to school with a big bruise on my arm and i had taken my school jumper off and the teacher noticed the bruise and asked me what happend i remember replying "mummy grabbed me really hard and hit me with the spoon because i didnt clean my room" i dont remember clearly what the teacher said but they called family SA and they said that my step mum had to take anger managment classes which she never did and families SA never did anything about it once i got to about the age of 14 the abuse got worse, there was one night when i was about 15 that i was cooking dinner and i was straining the peas and i dropped the strainer with the peas in it on the floor and dad wasnt home so my step mum who was in the kitchen knocked me on the floor really hard and said that i was a useless b**** and worth nothing and she wished she nevver raised me, then kicked me in the ribs, and punched me in the face, and broke my nose and also gave me black eyes, and still sent me to school the next day the school did nothing about it, there where many other incidents when she had sent me to school black and blue, i now have scars all over my body from her abuse there were times when she held knifes to my throat and threated me to get out of the house and when i left the house she would drag me back in by my hair and abuse me further and not feed me for days on end. when i turned 16 i had a boyfriend and one night my step mum was abusing me she had kicked me in the stomach which made me not be able to move which also resulted in my step mum to be able to abuse me further this time she was trying to strangle me whilst sitting on top of me so i bit her and tryed to get away which was not possible as i couldnt move very well, at that point she grabbed a knife and had cut my leg open, later that night i went to my room to clean my self up, i deciced to text my boyfriend and ask hiim to come pick me up as he could drive, when he came he was very shocked to see the state that i was in so he called the police and took me to the hospital, that night i moved in with my grandfather who i have been living with ever since. i have finaly told my dad what had been going on and he said that he had had suspicions of the abuse going on and when i asked why he didnt do anything he said it was because he did not want to lose his girlfreind. from the day he said that i have not spoken to him and do not intend to anytime soon becasue my belief is that parents are supose to be there to protect you and my father did not do that. to this day i still have very vivid flash backs and struggle with trust which makes it hard to make friends. i am on antidepressiants and also see a concouler, and have health problems and am in and out of hospital regualy which interfers with my school so i am doing school part time now until my life is a little bit more stable.
sorry about the bad grammar and spelling.
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by Martin
(Canada)
I don't really ever remember not being in pain. Where for most people home was the one safe place on earth mine was the opposite. Home was where my demon lived. There were 4 of us living at home. My older brother, my older sister, and my sister who was a baby (12 years younger than me) Our mother was our abuser she used a combination of brute force and psychological abuse. Get told enough times what a worthless piece of sh*t you are, you start to believe it. I have been hit with fists, sticks, wooden spoons shoes belts brushes brooms. She managed over the years to break my collarbone three times, my nose once, my arm once. I had my hair pulled out in clumps. Numerous bleeding noses, bruises etc. She used to starve us. I remember being 6 and sitting in the basement in the dark eating a can of corn and sobbing because I knew I was going to get beat for it but the hunger was overwhelming the fear. You get the picture life at home sucked.
One thing I will remember to my dying day is being sat down on the couch with brother and sister and being told that if it was up to her she would give us away to the first f**ker stupid enough to take us. It was every man for themselves at home. If you could rat out one of the others and get them tortured, well then you were safe till she was done with them. I used to say I was raised by Wolves. (Wolves are kinder though). I learned a lot though. Never show fear. Never ever Cry. The expression you want something to cry about still sends shiver up my spine. Suffer in silence. Trust no one. I used to walk home from school praying that she would not be home. Please God just let her not be home for a while. But nope she was always at home waiting. If she suspected you of something she would line us all up and make us swear an oath to god that we hadn't done whatever. So I swore oaths, lied with my hand on a bible and had daily unanswered prayers. Doesn't take long and you don't believe in anything or anybody. A brother and sister who were the enemy. My sister was the first to leave. She escaped to a foster home. My brother was next, just ran away. That left me at home, 12 alone scared and all alone with her. All her focus that was spread amongst 3 was now mine and mine alone. I packed so many times to run away but could not for whatever reason leave. I stared drinking when I was 11. Sniffed nail polish remover, gas, anything to dull the pain.
I decided when I was 14 to kill her. I got a hunting knife sharpened it to a razors edge waited for her to go to bed crept in and was going to slit her throat. I stood over her for what seemed like forever staring at her, the source of so much pain. I decided she was not worth it to me. She would be dead I would be off to jail or wherever and she would still have power and control over me forever. I crept back out, packed for real and left. So I was 14 no skills no education no prospects. I started working, stealing, whatever. Gotta eat gotta live. I used to think I was okay. I mean I lived in hell and made it out. Life was good. I started working full time. Got some good jobs, made real good money. Yet things were still f**ked up. Everyone else seemed to get ahead but I lived hand to mouth payday to payday. I never learned to social drink. Drinking was to get drunk not socializing. Even though I worked and had jobs I rarely had a car or a nice place to live, any money I had went to dull the pain. Drugs drinking thats all my life was. I used to think that I was invincible. Seriously I was involved in 3 car wrecks where people were killed and I walked away without so much as a scratch. I had more failed relationships than I can count. One failed marriage. Who really wanted to live with a drunken a**hole who was a rageaholic. I used to try to f**k my way to happiness. If you were f**king me you must love me. Right?
As the years progressed I lost more and more friends and family to drugs and drinking. My brother never did make it over the torture and sadness and phoned me and said he was going to blow his head off. I said whatever, phone me tomorrow and hung up on him. He did indeed blow his head off and died that night.
When I was a kid I used to have a evening paper route and would stand on the sidewalk and peek in the front windows of houses and wish I lived there, people laughing, not cowering, warm safe.
I went through a lot to get to where I am now. It took me years to cry. Now I get weepy at movies and newscasts and am neither embarrassed nor ashamed. All those years of no tears have to come out somewhere. I now understand how she was responsible for my problems, not my solutions. She is dead now, died last year. I did end up having a relationship with her. It was hard, but it was hard to be afraid of a little 5 foot high woman who was frail and sick. She took a long time to die. She died of lung disease and took about 7 years to die. But when I was phoned and told she passed away my first thought was, How do you like hell you b**ch.
The moral of my story is pain inflicted on us by others need not end our lives. We can choose not to give them that control any longer and rise up and have a happy life anytime WE WANT. It also took a long time to realise that I was addicted to danger and turmoil as much as the drugs. Once I realized it though I could start to deal with it. This by the way is a Reader's Digest version of my life. Much much more happened and I think daily of what I survived. But I am now mostly happy. Mostly sane and drug and booze free for 15 years and loving life.
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by Izzi
(Location Undisclosed)
My father has always been questionable. Ever since I was little, he'd always make "jokes" and say things to me and my older brother that usually referred to something sexual. Now, he still does it. He always threatens to either break my belongings, kill my dog, or hurt me in some way. He always screams at me and calls me names. He lies all the time, and when I figure out he's lying, he punches me. As a young child, I've seen him hurt my brother numerous times to the point where he's in tears on the ground, drowning in his own tears. I never could comprehend any of this, so I sat and watched.
It just keeps getting worse and worse. I don't know what to do. It is not too serious, as some stories on here may be, but it still leaves me physically or emotionally hurt in some way. They always tell me that if I tell anyone, "I'm going to get it."
My mother also curses at me, calling me names and beating me with various items. She screams and always spanks me for no reason.
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by Abigail E
(Ohio, USA)
Ever since i could crawl I was the foces of my Alcoholic fathers abuse. I am now an adopted 17 year old. If any one has read the book A Child Called "IT" then thats kind of how my life was. Now I'm not saying that it was that horible but it was bad. I always had bruses and made excuses. It was a hard life but I learned to survive.
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by Amariah
(California, USA)
well im 11 years old.. and my dad is like crazy .. today me and my friend were getting ready.. and then my sister came home and said "your a little sl*t wheres my clothes" and then she said "Your effing annoying..." and then she yelled "dadd!" and then he came and he looked at me.. then pulled my hair grabs me and then slaps me in the face.. like 6 times? i think? but then he looks at my friend..and yells and says "Get the Eff out!" and then also when i was five he choked my mom and was threating her, and my grandma tried calling the police.. he always beats me :( i wanna move to a foster home.
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by Dustin
(USA)
I'm not very sure why I'm writing this. I just really need an outlet. I've been through a lot of torment in my life and I don't really know who to talk to. I was just recently put in a foster home and my father was put in jail for child abuse and murder. My father had killed my mom when I was ten. I hadn't seen him kill my mom, but I had seen my mother's dead body. My father had forced me to carry my mother into the kitchen. He told me to slice her wrists with a butcher knife, but I wouldn't. My older brother who was fourteen at the time slit her wrists. Then, my dad called the cops. The cops came in and left after a few hours of doing almost nothing. I had been trying not to cry the whole time. I had never been a crier.
My father had been abusing me, my brothers and sister ever since I can remember. Everyone one of my siblings reacted dramatically to the torture of living with my father. My sister (Age 4) became shy and quiet. My brother (Age 6) became impulsive, mean, and angry. My brother (Age 17) became depressed, quiet and sullen. I'm overprotective of my younger sister and I feel my younger brother is too rough with her. I'm not sure how my older brother feels. He is very hard to read. I suppose I'm most overprotective of my sister and my older brother is most overprotective of all of us.
My older brother was always protective of me. He always took a beating for me. He was always very brave. I always tried to take my younger siblings beatings when I felt they didn't deserve them. I remember it was only a year ago I was at the park with my little sister and I told her we had to go home. She began to cry and I asked what was the matter. She told me that "Daddy was going to beat her." I told her I'd take the beating for her. she began to be okay after that.
When I came home dad grabbed her by the arm. I told him I'd take her beating and he grabbed me instead. He took me down to the basement of which all of us affectionately called "The Torture Chamber". He leaned me over a piece of wood and tied my hands around a pole. He then proceded to cut my shirt off. I remember it was very cold in the basement. He then grabbed a whip and cracked it across my back. I bit back a cry and held back the tears. He told me he'd whip me around twenty-three time (Twenty for her beating and three for taking the beating.) He then began to whip me. When he was finished I was crying and my back was bleeding terribly. He grabbed me by the hair and asked me if I was crying. I told him I wasn't and he looked at me. He then told me I'd be whipped twelve more times (6 for cryinga nd 6 for lying.) After he was done whipping me I was fading in and out of conciousness. He untied me and I fell to the floor. He began to kick me and scream at me to get up. I remember throwing up and feeling pain in my stomach, chest and back before going unconcious.
This was only partially what happened at home. Dad also sexually abused us. He sexually abused my older brother the most and my little sister the second most. He would make us go days without food sometimes as punishment. Father had many different kinds up punishments and sometimes it was not knowing how you were going to be punished that was the scary part. It feels really good to get this all off my chest.
Now me and all of my siblings live in a foster home with loving parents and I'm hoping to start anew.
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by Abeer
(Dammam, Eastern Province )
it happened to my little brother yesterday at school one of his teachers abused him physically just because he throw a paper at his friend, the teacher pull his ear back the pushed him to the ground and started to hit him with his fist on his back in front of the whole class then my brother went to the principle and told him what the teacher did but he didn't do anything and my brother wont go to school now.. all because of this religion teacher.
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by Lorahli
(California, USA)
I never expected to find somewhere this open to share my story. I've truthfully never told anyone this before. I'm nervous. Before I start, I'd just like to let you know that these are things I'm still going through. I'm only fourteen.
On my twelfth birthday, my father, who'd been in jail for nearly four years, was released. He was a druggie, and even after such a long time in confinement, he still felt the urge to use. My party was small, just my mother, my brother, and my two best friends, S-- and T--. My presents were humble and I had a fairly good time, until HE came home. When he arrived, he dismissed my friends, sent my brother to bed, and turned off the soft music that had been playing in the background. All I could do was look up at the man I used to know, he looked angry. He began to break things, ripping my birthday cards, stomping on my new CDs, everything was ruined. He dragged my mother by the arm into their bedroom, all the while she was screaming at him-no, BEGGING him- to let her go, I ran after them and watched in horror as my father raped my mother. I was paralyzed. He made eye contact with me the entire time, never faltering. When he was done, he winked at me as if to say, "You're next." I regained the feeling in my legs and dashed in the direction of the door, before I could make it, I felt a crack on the back of my head. I fell to the floor, groaning. He grabbed my hair and forced me face-to-face with his crotch, I was terrified and couldn't possibly fathom why a man would do this his own daughter. I gagged as he raped my mouth.
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by Kai
(Location Undisclosed)
Usually, I wouldn't be doing this, but after reading a few of the other stories on here I thought 'hey, why the hell not?'. First off, however, I am not giving a sob story and I don't want anyone's pity. I simply thought that you could use a slightly different story to what I've seen on here so far.
I want to start off by saying that my early childhood was great. I lived with my mother who raised me by herself. Even though she worked a lot, she always managed to be home before me after school and let me tell her about my day. She was always there when I needed her and I loved her more than anything. But of course, life's not perfect, and if you think it is, the sadistic, twisted b*****d called fate rips it apart in front of you.
I was twelve when it happened. Mother was taking me out to dinner as a celebration (I had just gotten my red belt in taekwondo earlier that day) and we were hit by a drunk driver going through a red light. She died on impact. Me, on the other hand, though I was in hospital for what felt like weeks, I survived without any long lasting damage. The only problem was my mother didn't have any other living relatives. That's when I was sent to live with my father.
It didn't take long. It started off with yelling and swearing, mostly when he was drunk. Soon it turned to throwing things and before I knew it, he'd beat me till I was black and blue all over. But never my face. He was too smart for that, even when drunk.
At first I just thought he had anger management issues and tried to stay away from him when he was drunk. I even installed a lock on my door. Of course, I was wrong. He enjoyed beating me, but that's all it ever was. I suppose that's one thing I should be grateful for. He preferred sex with more experienced women. His friends, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure of. I never stayed to find out. I knew I'd pay for it later, but I chose to be beaten rather than raped.
Only when he felt he had me under his thumb did he make me into his little slave girl. I was forced to clean and make his meals. He'd leave me money to go buy food. I was angry and frustrated and I wanted out, only there was one problem; he was a drug dealer and had many connections. He frequently told me that if I ever ran away, he'd hunt me down and drag me back kicking and screaming. I believed every word.
Once I reached high school my grades began to drop. My friends were constantly on my case about never coming to the sleepovers. I couldn't tell them; it'd simply put them in danger and I shudder to think what he would do to me if he knew I'd breathed a word to anyone. But I still felt a little happy, because no matter what happened, no matter what he did, I could forget about it all when I was with my friends. Then fate reared it's ugly head again.
I had been rebelling more and more and he felt he was losing his grip on me. So, to remind me that he had complete control over my life, he had my closest friend killed, shot, right in front of me. I realise now how easy it would've been to put him behind bars then, but I was young, naive and scared. My friends weren't safe, no one was safe around me.
For about a week I was an absolute wreck. I pushed everyone away, began skipping classes and almost lost all hope. It was all a bit of a blur, really, but I clearly remember this one time where I was standing in front of a mirror, staring at my reflection. I hated it. I hated the person I was becoming. That's when I made a choice. I could either continue on like this, feel sorry for myself, wind up doing the whole sex, drugs, booze thing and end up dead or in jail, or I could man up and live my life right. I chose the latter.
I made a plan. Since it was dangerous for me to have friends, I would have none. When I became a legal adult, I would move far away, to another country if need be. That meant I had to finish school with decent grades and find a job.
Still, I was angry and needed to vent somehow, so I turned to the one thing I knew how to do best: fight. The only problem was I was young, I was weaker than the people I picked fights with and I didn't have experience in street fighting. I got my a** handed to me countless times, but I got back up every time. My instructor from Taewkondo had always said I was quick to pick things up and I found he was right. Every time I fought I got just that little bit better.
Now here I am, almost halfway through my last year of highschool. I'm a straight A student, I have a job at a fast food outlet and am well on my way to getting out of here.
My message to any of you who may be in a similar position as me: NEVER give up on life and NEVER give up on yourself. It ALWAYS gets better. There's ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel.
Peace, dudes :)
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by Janetta
(Iowa, USA)
I survived...I don't know how, I don't know why...but I survived. Where do I go from here? Why do I feel like the little girl when I'm now in my 30's? How do I truly move beyond and use what happened to me for good instead of letting it run my life?
I still have a difficult time verbally saying "sexual abuse". It hasn't even been 15 years since I escaped. I graduated High School and left the evil behind. Yet, I'm still haunted by the abuse that included physical and mental as well as the sexual.
As far back as I can remember, I was abused in some way, shape or form. It started out as verbal, quickly moved to physical and then to the sexual when I was about three. It was when my brother entered the world. The prodigal son was born and I was chopped liver. Fed to the wolves or however you want to look at it.
I'm not going to go into a lot of details because there are very sick people out there that read things like this and find some sort of kicks. But from one victim to another, I want to share some of the things I have gone through over the years.
As a young girl in grade school, I was very confused. I lied so much. I guess it was to gain friends because I didn't think I was good enough to really have friends. I put up barriers (my lies) because at home I was so beaten down and told I was worthless that at school, I never knew I was anything better than that. (For any teachers reading this, take note!) When the lies weren't enough and I had so many friends that I felt overwhelmed (why would they want to be my friend when all I do is lie?), I turned to stealing. I never felt like I had anything neat at home and the more "new" stuff I could get, I would be happier, right? The teachers caught on to my lies and stealing. I was even held back a year because my grades suffered. So many RED FLAGS at such a young age. But I lived in a small community, everyone knew my family and thought they were just wonderful...ha, nobody knows what goes on behind closed doors.
As I got older the abuse continued. The sexual abuse when into a whole new stage when I was eight. I never wanted to be in the house. I would spend my summers outside with the farm animals, horse back riding, walking through the pasture, playing in the creek and pretending I was someone else from somewhere else. It was one of my ways to cope. It was something I continued to do until I was in my upper teens. That and playing with Barbie Dolls.
Depression overwhelmed me and by the age of 13, I was pregnant...not by choice and not by any guy I was dating. It was my father's baby inside his baby girl. Once he found out, he took me to another farmer who was also a vet and a very painful abortion was performed. How was I to cope with the abuse, pregnancy and now an abortion? About a week later when I was back on my feet...a little, I found every pill I could find and I started popping pills before I went to bed. Unfortunately, the overdose failed and I threw up in the night. My mother thinking it was just the flu, she came in and cleaned my bedding while I passed out on the floor of my room.
In Junior High I checked out books about abuse. I was so confused about what things are considered abuse and what wasn't. I checked out those books and read them and reread them. I would sneak them home and read them when nobody was around. I would make a book cover for them and read them in study hall (instead of using a study hall for it's purpose).
I tried so hard to get help once I knew that what I was going through wasn't normal. I craved normal. I craved the opportunities to go to someone else's house for birthday parties or overnighters. Once again, my family was known as "good people" and when I told the school counselor about the mental and physical abuse, she didn't believe me and called my folks. Needless to say, that didn't go over well.
I struggled. Kids made fun of me. I became more and more chunky. When I turned 16 I got a job so I could be gone for evenings and be away from the house. Since I could drive, I even attempted going to church. It was another outlet for me to get out. When I was banned from taking the car to church, I would walk the 3 miles to get there or I would get a ride. Not having the car didn't stop me.
I hit another downward spiral at age 16, though. I tried really hard to get a boyfriend because if I could find a guy to be with, I wouldn't have to endure what was happening to me at home...however I slept with every guy I dated because I was looking for love and approval. I found out real quick that boys at that age are in a relationship for sex and nothing more. Saddened by constant rejection, gaining anger with God and quickly losing faith, I quit my job in the middle of a shift, went to the town celebration and a guy from my school approached me. He had a friend and they were looking for some fun. I didn't feel right about it, but I agreed. I later lied and said I was raped.
It was only a matter of time before the cops were gonna put things together. I was so scared and knew I had screwed up so badly that I found my evil dad's pistol, loaded it, cocked it and put it to my mouth. My finger was tight on the trigger and I slowly repositioned the barrel so it had a good angle into my brain. Tears streamed down my face. The pain from EVERYTHING came flooding back to me. I already felt like a huge disappointment to my family, but this would give them more credit and proof that I was truly a disturbed young lady that was a totally huge disappointment. I moved the barrel from my mouth to the side of my head. If I shot it, would I bleed to death or would I die instantly? The song, "My Heart Will Go On" came out of nowhere and played so loudly in my ears it was like hearing it on the stereo. I brought the gun down, loosened my finger from the trigger and cried the hardest I had ever cried before. I decided I was gonna take whatever was coming to me from the "rape". Maybe another RED FLAG to the public was what I needed.
I was arrested about two weeks later from school. I sat in jail for three days with the only visitor being my youth pastor. Surprisingly enough, I got off easy since I did serve some time. But how could I go back to school? How were people gonna treat me? Guess they weren't going to treat me any different than before...and they didn't. And it certainty wasn't any worse.
After I graduated High School, the best man I had ever had in my life, helped me move away from the farm. It was the first day of my new life!
I was 19, had my own place, no job, a boyfriend in a suburb away, no money to get a phone and a country girl now in the city. It didn't take me long to gain employment at a department store where I made barely enough to pay rent, food and gas for the car. I kept trying to set money back, but car repairs came up or I needed this or that. Just keeping busy and trying to survive this new adventure was tough that it was easier for me to take a weekend to go back to the farm and be close to what I was use to since that was normal.
The relationship with that great guy ended, I was alone in the city and still didn't know my way around very well. As long as I stayed in the burb I was use to, I was fine.
I got a room mate. It was a single mom that I worked with. We got an apartment and since she drove me up the wall, I started going out and dating men. It's a wonder I didn't get killed in the process. One man liked to beat me during sex, another was old enough to be my grandpa, some lived in bad areas of the city...the list goes on.
My goal wasn't to go to college. I hated High School and besides, I didn't know what I wanted to go to school for. I didn't feel I was smart enough anyway. I lost my job at the department store shortly after I met a nice guy. He was charming, beautiful blue eyes, very caring and sweet...I moved in with him in the later part of August and he proposed to my in October after only knowing me since July. We married the following October. But this guy had his own sets of issues. A porn addict.
I hated porn. The thought of any of it made me ill. How could someone get their kicks from that junk? He did. If he could sneak it, he got off with it.
We were married for nine years and I was actually in it for the long haul. Part of my vows was, "in sickness and in health". I tried to help him past the sickness, because all I ever wanted was him to be healthy. It never happened.
Now, this pretty much brings us to 2011 where I'm days away from the divorce being final. I still struggle with my looks, what people think of me, how am I to survive without a man, rejection once again and yet I'm trying to be the best mom I can be for my child.
I do know that I'm a lot stronger than I was 12 years ago, but I still have a long though road ahead. The past never goes away, no matter how much you try to run from it. So, I have to accept it and know that I have to get help for myself when I need it and find ways to move beyond all the hurts.
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by Meredith
(Massachusetts, USA)
I don't know if this counts as being abused. My mother can and will throw these moods, where one second she is yelling and screaming, but as soon as someone walks in (another family member, or someone other than my father) she'll put up that fake mother love. She hates me, she loves me.
She scares me. She never hits me, or hurts me (at least physically). I wish she really did just slap me, that way the pain could fade. These words stab into me, twisting around, dripping acid into my scrambled brain. I don't remember a night without yelling, to be honest. She is so unpredictable, she makes locating the exact location of a single electron seem like child's work.
She once threatened to abandon me, to leave me behind if I didn't shut up and stop talking. And I hadn't said a word.
As I've said before, she will let lose her Monster Mother side. This includes yelling at me, calling me names (b****, a$$, a$$hole, bastard, damn child... etc), and when she's really mad, she'll grab my face tightly, pinching my face up with one hand, snarling in my face. I sometimes find myself wondering if I breathe in enough of her cigarette smoke, will I get lung cancer? Much to my surprise the thoughts that follow are hopeful- that, yes, it will happen. I will die.
I don't think I've ever heard a kind word from my mother- except maybe when I do precisely what she wants me to do, which as I've said is extremely difficult.
She calls me stupid. I am, I know it! I don't need my mother to verify it, though she did break my delusions, but I am second guessing her- my God.
I used to meet with the guidance counselor at my school every Monday. But, after multiple altercations with my mother who said, "You can't go crying to the guidance counselor every second of the day- You need to go to your classes!" I never did go crying like she said, it was only during my free period on Mondays that I was called down to the g.c's office.
She publicly humiliates me by bringing emphasis to my faults, while we're in public.
I feel so irate, so depressed, so worthless, and I can't bring myself to get too close to someone to show them my REAL feelings. All they know is my mask, not me. But I always say: "Better to be loved for who I'm not than hated for who I am." Because if I showed them my true, ugly self, then they would hate me. I am called to the office regularly because I am overly reactive, I have difficulty controlling my emotions; I am aggressive, and yet I am withdrawn. Teachers call my withdrawn-ness being polite, but I'm just afraid to not treat them with respect. I don't want to disappoint my mother further. I can't sleep, I have these horrible nightmares and I can not sleep. On the other hand, I have these beautiful dreams, and I wake up crying because I know it is only a dream.
When I'm nervous I bite my knuckles, enough that I break the skin at times. I am lying about my homework, just so I can do it my way, not my mother's way. I've been told I am a bit of a daredevil, that I run through life recklessly.
I started cutting because my cousin got hurt, and he was in my care, even though he was older, and I wanted to feel something other than mental pain.
I had a problem in my Earth Science class, and I got really mad. The teacher sent me down to the guidance counselor's office. My sleeves were tight, and long, but not long enough. She saw, asked what they were, and I said "Cat scratches".
Then she said okay, and we continued the meeting. After some time, I broke, and told her that I was cutting, and she said that she knew and that I needed medical attention.
I was sent to the ER, driven by my mom, who through the hour long ride, screamed and ranted about how I was messing up HER life and that SHE was so embarrassed by MY behavior. It was all "Boo hoo my daughter's awful." When we got to the ER, she isolated me, sitting far away. I was alone in there. When I was called, I had to explain, and they did the standard procedure.
Then, they got me a bed in that wing, and started asking why. I told them, with my mom out of the room of course. Then they talked to her. Then me. Then her. Then finally they filed a 51A. A child abuse allegation.
They moved me in front of behavioral offices. My mother wasn't allowed back into the room, unless there was a guard that patrolled only that strip. To keep watch. Every time she took a step closer to me, the guard would look in, ask if everything was okay, and she had to make an excuse like "needed a tissue" or something like that.
She was crying, sniffling and trying to make me feel bad. She approached the doctor when he came in, and started yelling. Then, they stayed while I slept over night. I would be going to a mental hospital in the morning.
While I was there, I didn't want to have my meetings with my parents, but I had to. However, if I had to, I'd have someone in there with me. So my social worker went in with me. After I came back, a couple weeks later, I got ripped into.
Every time I do something wrong, they bring up how I didn't want to talk to them, how "They have done nothing wrong and the doctors there agreed".
About the last part: I was told by the doctors before I left that if they were being mean again, to tell someone because IT WASN'T RIGHT. My parents now say, "I wasn't on a two week vacation" when they want to jab at me. But it WAS hard there!
I binge and purge. I've had the secrecy of almost three months. But, my parents found out and picked on me for being so self-conscious. They called me an attention w***e, and a cocky b**** for thinking I knew better than the doctors. I felt like I was heavier than I should be.
I FEEL like I AM heavier than I should be. I still purge- now I'm just skipping breakfast, and lunch, while puking up my dinner. I know I should stop cutting, I know I should stop purging, but I can't stop.
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by Lyn
(Location Undisclosed)
I was abused from age 4 to 13. At first, my mother was amazing. She did everything for me. I loved her so much and I know she loved me. She was an RN (nurse). We were well off and even though I didn't live with my sisters, (I had 3 at the time) I was very happy. It all started when I was 4. I walked into my mother's bedroom only to find a naked stranger in her bed. (I always slept with my mom and she never brought her personal affairs home) I was so angry I walked up to her and said "I hate you." She slapped me on both sides of my face and told me to get my "ugly ass" out of her room. I was so afraid and bewildered. My mother had never even raised her voice to me before. After that she started bringing men around all of the time. It was a different one every night. I didn't understand what was happening to her. She started ignoring me and soon, I became a waste of space in her eyes. At age five she got married. He treated me horribly and abused me both sexually, mentally, and physically. My mother didn't care. My mom became sick, twisted and demented. She had this game she would play. She would say she lost something and I would have to find it. Often, she never even owned this item. I would not be allowed to sit down, sleep or eat until the object had been found. After a while, she would forget about it. I was removed from my mother's custody when I was ten, only to be placed back with her five months later. My sisters lived with my grandparents who loved them so much. I would request to go live with them but she informed me that grandma didn't love me. I wasn't pretty or good enough for her. At age six, my mother had a baby. My mom was as dead-beat as her husband and it then became my responsibility to raise her. I did everything for her. When I was seven my oldest sister tried to kill me and she molested me as well. By the time my other sister was born (I was 9) I was managing finances, shopping, getting my mom to the doctors, cleaning, cooking and raising two children. I did everything for everyone. I lost my childhood. When I was little my mom bought me Barbie dolls and she would tell me to be nice to them because they are the only friends I would ever have. I am now 14 years old. I am in foster care. I suffer from depression and I have attempted suicide twice. The worst part is, no one knows I'm suffering. Everyone thinks I am this strong outgoing person. I get straight A's in school and I already have a college picked out for me. I have a lot going for me and I am very successful. That's why no one sees how much I am hurting. I would love for people to read my story and perhaps give their opinions because it's the only way I'll ever be able to tell anyone how I feel. I just want to be happy.
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by Kyle
(Minnesota, USA)
My friend that gets abused:
I know a girl, when her dad gets mad, he takes it out on her. not on her face, but on her body. she has to wear long sleeve shirts to school so that people don't ask questions. she wont let anyone help her because her dad is her only family that will let her live with them. she is fifteen and a really nice girl. just recently her dad replaced her door knobs so she cant lock herself in her room. her nearest neighbor is a hotel two miles away. she has people that live by but they are rarely ever there. she doesn't want to go to a foster home because she has lived in one twice before and didn't like it at all. her step mom is mean to her also. i don't know what to do for her.
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by John Doe
(USA)
I am a 22 year old man facing the lost memories of sexual abuse at the hands of my mother. In recent years, as I grew into a more mature adult, I realized that there were huge gaps in my childhood. It was by no means pretty. My parents divorced when I was still a young child, and I have no memories of them being together. My mother slandered my father and grandfather, a conclusion both my sister and I have come to, in order to gain custody over us. It was around that time that my sister was being sexually abused by neighbors, under the "watchful" supervision. If my mother knew or not, I doubt anybody will ever truly know. My earliest memory of any physical abuse at the hands is quite possibly the worst, which is her drunkenly burning me with a cigarette. She then cried, and begged me not to tell my father. I never did. Not too long after that, she left the abusive relationship she was in, and got engaged to my step father, who despite being an a**hole, was never abusive. Upon moving in with him is where my first "discovered" memory appeared. I had my own room, which was new to me. On numerous occasions I would wake up naked and in odd positions on my bed. I still don't remember anything from the evening before (which may be a blessing, or a curse. I know that the thoughts of "maybe you were just hot, or you just move in your sleep" might be swirling around, but there is more. After moving from this house, where I had my own bedroom to a new house where I shared a room with my step brother, the odd positions and nudity had ceased. This house lacked air conditioning, and despite the sometimes unbearably hot conditions, my clothes remained on. My mother would also, on numerous occasions call me into her bedroom after my stepfather left for business trips to lay with her. I was always terrified, as my mother had become physically abusive, and I even went as far as to think "I'm going to get molested". There again are gaps in my memory, and this is where I fear the worst, as I was awake and concious during these terribly uncomfortable night time visits, but I do not remember much aside from the feeling of terror and discomfort. All visual memory has been blocked out.
Today, I have nightmares of being molested by my mother, not frequently, thankfully. I tend to dream more about zombies than anything, and sometimes I dream of my loved ones. I doubt I will ever be able to tell anybody about these abuses, and for me, that is okay. I have experienced many ways of coping with the pain of abuse. My sister, who's childhood was far worse than mine, is lucky to be alive, as she made herself her own worst enemy. I've always been open about my abuse, but my sexual abuse has, for the period of time that I have recovered the memories of it, been a little secret. I share it here, today, so that any other men or women facing the same frightening realizations as I am can gain a better understanding, and remember that it is not your fault. I am not a victim, I am a survivor, something every victim should work towards becoming.
A last note is to always remember that the brain is amazingly powerful, and can make years disappear if it so pleases.
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by Susan T
(Florida, USA)
As I sit I wonder why and how I got myself into another bad relationship. Growing up my mom and dad were good parents to my brother and I, although they divorced when I was 7, I still had a close relationship with my dad. Always, daddys little girl, still to this day. When I was 11 or 12, thats when it all began... The sexual touching is how it all started, and this was by my older brother. To go into great detail, I cant. I dont want to bring all of those emotions that I dealt with back into play. I never told anyone until I was 21. I told the one person I thought I could trust. My now exhusband. I made him promise me never to tell my mom and the first thing he did was call her. I know out of concern, but I felt betrayed. I dont think that I ever fully trusted him again after that. It caused a HUGE problem with my relationship I had with my mom. She never once believed me, ever. Still to this day she does not believe me and I am now 43. Then... my second marriage came along. My daughter was 12 when I remarried. She was my life. I raised her by myself and we were and still are very close. My husband and I had a little boy who was perfect I was a stay at home mommy and had it made. But.... I will NEVER forget as long as I live the day I came home and my daughter wasnt anywhere to be found. She was 14 at the time. I called all of her friends, her boyfriend... everyone. Nobody knew where she was. Then, my now ex husband, left to go to his appt.... I got in my car with my son, 1 at the time, and drove over to her boyfriends house. His dad was just getting home and he came up to my car... I ask, where my daughter was and he looked at me and said you dont know do you... I thought, Oh good Lord, my daughters pregnant... no it was much worse. Her step father had been sexually molesting her. I never NEVER.... did not believe her. I WAS NOT going to be like my mother. I broke down and started crying. How could I have let this happen... how come I didnt know what was going on. I felt so sad for her and it brought back all of that emotion and hurt that I had to endure as a child and as an adult. And my story goes on and on... I could probably write a book about my life... Now, as I sit crying... remembering... all the pain for what I had suffered and then my daughter had to suffer that same pain... It still rips my heart out. And I keep getting into bad relationships. Now, I have ended up with a man with a young son who I adore... and feel very sad for... because his daddy is severly abusive to me, emotionally more than physically, still hurts all the same, and I see this little innocent child acting out the same anger his daddy has. His daddy was emotionally abused as a very young child by his mother, for the life of me I can NOT wrap my head around the things that his mother did to him. I can NOT ever meet this woman... EVER!! His dad got custody and not only was he emotionally abusive but also physically abusive... SEVERE physical abuse. Now I suffer through his abuse towards us... The whole house. My son is scared to leave me alone, which to me is so sad. Hes only 7 years old. Im not able to work at the moment do to an accident and may need surgery so money for me is a HUGE issue. I feel so trapped. So this is my story. We all have one. Some worse than others but it all hurts the same.
I would like to add... My daughter is now almost 21 and due with my first grandchild soon... She is doing ok but I know that she will need therapy. But she has to be ready for it. My son does not see his abusive alcoholic father. I wont allow it. I have been to therapy and although it never really goes away you learn to deal with it a little better.
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by Karen
(Canada)
I still remember the day my life changed. My parents were divorced and I had been living with my mother. She was ill and had to send my sister and I to live with my father. She eventually died. We were at my grandparents' home for the summer and he came to pick us up - with his new girlfriend. She was mean from the get go. The first time I found myself alone with her, she told me I was ugly and that she had heard I was a spoiled brat. I was 7. I didn't tell anyone, figuring that she would be gone soon enough. But, my dad moved her in with us, and she became our mother. He was absent most of the time, so we were at her mercy. In the span of 3 months, my childhood went from having two loving, albeit divorced, parents, to a horror show of physical abuse and public humiliation. I was the object of her anger. Anytime something didn't go her way, or if my father made her angry, she beat me. She used coat hangers, wooden spoons, hairbrushes, belts. She punched me so hard in the stomach one time that I threw up. She made me clean up the vomit. This was all before the school bus came and I had to go and face the day after that with a smile on my face lest anyone suspect. I was 9. I tried to get help, but whenever someone tried to help me, things got worse. It was always the same - my stepmother and father would confront me and tell me how much I was hurting them. They said I was tearing apart the family. They told me that my little sister would be sent off to a foster home and that we would never see her again, and that the same might happen to me. Then they would ask me why I made up such vicious lies. I tried to stand up to them, but I would always wind up cowering and "admitting" that I had made it all up. Then the beatings and humiliation would get worse. I finally figured out that it was safer to keep my mouth shut.
What hurt the most was my father's complicity. He knew what was going on, but doing something about it meant he would have to choose us over her. He chose her. It was the ultimate betrayal.
I finally moved away and that is when the memories and flashbacks started. I got that under control and then I had my own kids. I look at them in wonderment and I am astounded that anyone could hurt their babies or let someone else hurt them, the way my father let my stepmother hurt my sister and I. My father and stepmother scarred me for life, but at least I have broken the cycle and my own kids are happy, healthy and have never had a hand laid upon them.
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by Abby W
(New Orleans, USA)
This poem is about the fantasy of an abused child being rescued. I believed with all my heart that someone would take me away from my uncle, to show me what love really was.
When I dream I see your face ,
You reach out your hand ,
then all of a sudden my world is safe .
You touch my face with your motherly touch ,
for a moment I surfed above the clouds ,
for a moment I believed love was enough .
When I dream I feel like a child ,
You look into my eyes and sing to me
my favorite lullaby .
I catch a glimpse of my stolen innocence ,
and when I am scared , you are there ,
to rescue the child inside .
But when I'm awake I can't seem to find you .
I open my eyes and fall to my knees .
My heart starts pounding ,
Suddenly , It's hard to breathe .
Maybe this is real , and my dreams are surreal.
Right now there is nothing I want to feel .
When I walk outside I become weak .
My stomach fills up with vomit ,
I can no longer speak.
This world is not safe , I just want to scream.
Why is everyone staring at me ?
Out of the corner of my eye I see them turn green . I can't escape ,
They're right behind me .
One guys tongue is growing down to his feet.
Just close your eyes,close your eyes.
You are the mother ,
Who I only see when I dream .
I have to believe that one day you'll be real.
I think I was 3 or 3 1/2 years old when this started. I had to go live with my uncle L-- at a young age because my mom had severe mental problems (I lived with him until I was 6). That incident alone was extremely traumatic, I guess I had already bonded with my mom and she just left me with my uncle, I remember that day everyday of my life. I was kicking and screaming on the ground by her car begging her not to leave me. Anyway, my uncle started hurting me that same day. I was sitting on the sofa, the tv was on, but I was just starring off into nothing,like I normally do-even now. He picked me up and carried me to his desk. I didn't know at the time that he was watching porn on his computer- it looked like grown ups playing and wrestling. My uncle told me to watch the tv (it was a man licking a girls private part), he said the girl had a boo-boo and the man was making it feel better. While he was talking, his hand went in between my legs. He rubbed me for a long time. his fingers kept moving up and down and in circles. He asked me if it felt good, but I didn't know what to say. he asked me that a lot and after a while he got mad because I didn't say anything. ( my first thought was of my mother, I hated her for leaving me at this house. Then I thought, I must have done something wrong for her to leave me with my uncle, I am the worst child that was ever born.) He yelled and said I was supposed to say that it feels really good. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out. i was scared because it was so big. he told me that i was going to make his boo boo feel better. he made me kiss his penis with my tongue . he made me touch it with my whole hand and then my hand got sticky and gross. at the time, i thought he peed on me(but i know now it was semen). I tried to turn away, but he held my head close to his penis so i couldn't move. my face was sticky and gross. even now, at 22, I can't stand when i feel sticky. for example, I live in a state with very high humidity and whenever i'm outside my skin starts to feel sticky and gross. I barely ever go outside, when I do, i end up havng to change my clothes every 30 minutes. I'm in therapy but I still don't know how to live with my flashbacks. will someone please tell me how long it takes to get past trauma like this. i'm really scared.
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by Lucy
(Calgary, Alberta, Canada)
when i was 10, my parents started to hit me, slap me across my face really hard. back then, i was jealous of my little bro, my parents never beated him, when ever he did something wrong, i m the one that gets blamed, beated and scared, i feel like my parents dont want me, hate me andthey act and say i was adopted, my mom calls me a idiot, b***h and that i am dumb.she slaps me, my dad kicks me, spanks me and wips me with a belt. every day people ask me what happened and i tell them that i fell and acidently cut my self. but they all noticed that i wasent as happy as before and that i allways say i hate life, what is the meaning of life,i tried to kill my self at home, but it didnot work. ever time i get hit, i start to bleed, now im 12, it has not stoped, i threatend to call the police and kill my sef, my mom said go ahead, and that she woud kill me before the police gets here.
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by Aleseah
(Illinois, USA)
well the abuse started after my little sister was born in 2003. me and my dad was very close and i always had respect for him, i started to hate my dad when i started high school he would always hit me and say that i'm stupid and not let me hang-out with my friends. when i started high school i was having trouble with my grades and i would always try to do good but i will always get bad grades, every'time the report cards would come out i would get scared not want to go to school.....he would tell me that he would beat me to death or he will brake my nose . after i completed freshman year i had to go to summer school and i got A's and B's but still he would say that i'm stupid and that he wish i wasn't his child sometimes i feel like why does my dad hate me.
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by Michelle F
(Missouri)
i get into the water with all my pain
i try to wash away all the dirty stain
that is left on my body by them
they left it there all those men
i cannot wash it away
no matter how many baths a day
it will not come off it's deep in my skin
making it's way to my soul within
but i will wash it away
with the blood of the lamb
on that rejoicing day
i will stand with the great i am
for he will wash away the pain
and every little speck of stain
he asked me to rest on him
and remember it is not my sin
for he has blessed me to move on
to stand up tall and to be strong
for he knows i can be the child that will be free
for he will not put anything in my way
that he will not bring me thru someday
when i CHOOSE to leave my pain
i can stand and be whole again
he is waiting for me to open my eyes
to come to realize
i just have to step forward and stop looking back
to the strength and wisdom i then once lacked
stop attacking myself as they once did
forgive myself he says you were a kid
start stepping forward don't look back
stop remembering the things that you once lacked
it's all over now you are free
start being the person i know you can be(LOVE ME)
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by Emily
(California, USA)
i was abused in many ways as a child and into my teens. when i was little i lived with my mother. as a baby i was ill which i guess damaged my brain sort of. there a big word for it but put simply my muscles were weakened. i could not run but can walk. when i was 5 being that it was summer, my mother left me with a trusted neighbor. the lady was nice but her husband was a horrible person. he would sexualy abuse me. went from him touching me to raping me, and when i fought he would burn me with cigarets. my mom asked about the marks and he told her they were bug bites or something. it continued until i was 10 when the woman walked in on her husband doing this. she called the cops and my mother. my mother took me to the hospital who confirmed this had been happening for a long time. it seemed like she blamed me, she asked why i did not tell her. i told her i was afraid. she prety much regected me after that. she did not speak to me or want me near her. i became so depressed i refused to talk, ihad no freinds and did not care. when i was 13 my mother had me committed to a mental hospital for my depression. after doing some paperwork the nurse put the uniform on me and took me to my room. they gave me something to make me sleep. the next day my mom came and brang me some of my clothes and my teddy bear. i asked here why i could'nt go home and she told me i needed help in my head and there people could do that. i cried for her not to leave she held me and promised to come see me soon. the other patients were in there teens as well, most dealing with drug, abuse or depression issues. it was not good there. being that i was considered suicidal i was left tied to my bed most of the time. the staff came in every once in a while stick me with more drugs or give me food or clean me because i was to drugged up to go to the bathroom alone even if i could i doubt they would let me. then one night a staff member came in and ended up raping me i was so out of it i did'nt realise he was hurting me. i was not conscious enought to fight him. the next day a nurse named mandy one of the only nice ones came see to it i was clean and had breakfast. i remember her glacing down then at me. she asked me if anyone there has touched my private parts. i apearently mumbled an yes. she asked what the person looked like. i decribed him the best i could. the man was fired but never punished. i was stuck ther for 3 years until i was released to the custody of aunty. with a mild anti depressant and alot of help from her i started to feel much better. while other 16 year olds were learning to drive. i was learning to ride a bike, speak better and eat like a normal person. after graduating when i was 19 i got a job and left my hometown i now have a small house near the ocean i often gaze into the sea wondering about all the questions left unanswered in my life. but all you can do to let go of a bad past is embrace a positive future.
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by Tamar Y
(Location Undisclosed)
Sexual Abuse doesn't have to mean touching:
When I was 14 my dad was sitting on the couch next to me one night when I noticed heavy breathing and from the side of my eye I could see him moving around. I looked over to find him masturbating right next to me. My mom was on the other couch and there was no way she couldn't have seen what was going on. I got up and ran out of the room, went to the bathroom and locked myself in there and cried.
Till this day they haven't brought it up and it will probably never come up until I bring it up. I'm deathly afraid to because I'm afraid of losing the rest of my family if I do. I really don't care about losing my mom or dad or even talking to them ever again. What they did was wrong and Unforgivable.
Even though he didn't touch me, I always have been and still am traumatized by this experience. I have had nightmares growing up of him actually touching me and my mom standing in the background just watching and not doing anything about it.
I really don't remember much from my childhood because I feel i've blocked it all out as a defense mechanism. I wonder if that is what usually happens and if there's a way to get memories of my childhood back.
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by Dougie
(Britian)
When i was younger everyone thought i was the coolest kid around. I was fairly good-looking and i was laid back and funny, i loved soaking up the attention.
I guess that was because at Home my dad was an... idiot, basically. My mum was always busy with something so i got landed with my dad.
He'd annoy me to tears until i shouted at him giving him the perfect excuse to hit me. I made extra sure to scowl at him after that and blot to my room.
My dad was good at making me embarresed infront of my frieds too, i don't know how he did it but i can always remeber feeling frustrated at him.
That's really all he did until i was 15, i had made quite a bit of money doing differant jobs over in london and i was saving up to get away from him. I was kind of going through a "job problem" then and i usually came to ask my mum for advice. A few days before i got told my exam results to see if i was able to become what i wanted my dad left the home with a load of Money. I can't say i miss him at all but it left my mum in ruins, she had been sacked and it was really only our savings that were keeping us strong then. So i gave up my savings, postponing my wish to leave the house. Even though my dad was gone i still felt trapped in that house. A year later i bought a flat with my three friends, one who also hated his dad, so i suddenly felt like i could talk to him. Anyway, it's five years on and i am in university. I don't care about what happend to my dad but when i went to go back home my mum had left and it was a stranger in the house. I often wonder about my mum and if she is ok.
Dougie
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by Tess H
(Kansas, USA)
I am a 42 year old black woman and I am realizing that I'm still suffering a great deal of pain from the abuse that I was subjected to when I was growing up. Although I have been vocal about what took place I still feel as if no one really cares and that people feel that I should be over it by now...or I hear everyone has a story or I hear the past is the past, which these points are true, however I still am haunted by the things that happened to me and my sister to this day but I have disguised my pain to not look weak to others for years.
My abuse started with watching my mother who was a teen mother of 4 girls abuse my sister that is a year younger than me, she was more verbally abusive towards me but was more physical towards her I had to be like 3 years old and my sister 2 we were taking a bath together and she peed in the water my mother slammed her under the water and I just remember my sister struggling and me screaming for her to stop and she did my sister was taken to the hospital and I don't remember much else about that particular night, I just remember my mother throwing us in scalding hot showers calling us horrible names and that was just the beginning. She was married to a this man that was in the army and that was over 30 years older than her and she also had my two youngest sisters by him. I thought he was my father but he wasn't he ended up being the first man to molest me and I had to be about five when it started he would actually try to penetrate me and he would tell me to lick him and touch him and he would also fondle my private areas...very long story short...basically my mother ended up leaving him and leaving my two younger sisters with him..who we ended up not seeing until we became adults..but I ended up being molested by a man my grandmother was with an old dirty man that smoked cigars I was around 6 or 7 then my other sisters father then my natural fathers stepson who was in his 20's and I was 10 and recovering from a virus that paralyzed me that was the first time I was actually penetrated and he placed a bathroom plunger over my face as he did it. There is so much I'm leaving out the story is just too long we were passed around from home to home and only stayed with our mother here and there and when we were with her it was short lived and all she did was call us horrible names and tell us how we made her life miserable. I got pregnant at 14 and 15 and had a boy and a girl. I was not the greatest mother but I was protective and I sure wasn't abusive I just went into a survival mode trying to keep a roof over our heads I left their father because he was physically abusive and from that point on its just been a roller coaster...I never got in to drugs or alcohol but I started looking for love in all the wrong places...I always seemed to pick men that were unloving and cold towards me...I have always felt cursed or like I am damaged goods I feel an internal paralysis...I find it hard to even function I don't even know how I have come this far..I have truly tried to forgive everyone that took a part in the abuse in my life...but somehow I can't get rid of this pain I feel this pain I have to keep concealed so that I don't run people away from me my adult life I have pretended to be a strong person but behind closed doors weak...I don't know what to do my heart always feels like its gonna explode there are so many things happening in this world that trigger my pain.I apologize for this fragmented story but its so much to tell it would truly be a book...I just want to get myself right so that I can truly help someone that is going through or that has gone through similar situation...I just want to put this pain away for good it rules my life..I am secretly destroying myself. I get these bursts of motivation and then I get paralyzed again. I have so much love in my heart that wasn't accepted and I have been on a quest for acceptance, stability and love all of my life can anyone understand this?
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by Tasha
(Athens, Greece)
Still trying to live:
It is a very hard and lonely road realising that you have been abused for almost your entire life...first by your parents and then by yourself because you were convinced you "deserved" it. I am the daughter of two doctors. A gynecologist (my father) and a microbiologist (my mother). My parents were not compatible, in fact they hated each other. Dad had severe mental health issues, he was a very physically abusive man, terrorised people and had a violent past. Oh, yes, he had very good excuses for it...the "poor me, I don't feel well and that's why I act up" type of excuse which coupled with his looks made every girl (including my mom) willingly climb onto his bed. He was also addicted to benzodiazepines among other anxiolytics, he abused the prescriptions of course which left him addicted. He was using the stuff for over 15 years and since he never got any psychiatric help for his issues, he turned even more vicious and paranoid.
Mom on the other hand came from a family riddled with psychiatric problems. Both her brother and sister had been institutionalised for various issues and then...well...left to their own devices to deal alone with their issues as the family didn't like the "stigma" of their conditions. Result? They got worse and worse...obviously. Mom was co-dependent...and had a twisted Christian mentality (no offence to Christians, I am Christian but Jesus never said allow your husband to hurt your children and don't leave)...So she hid behind church, never told anyone and experienced a total mental break-down which left her emotionally numb. She was in her own little world for most of the time. She would snap out of it and have daily explosive arguments with dad...she would get beaten up, cheated on, she would be the sole bread winner of the family...BUT she was too good a woman to leave him "in his time of need".
This time of need went on for over 40 years...My sister was the first victim of abuse but I will not disclose her story without her permission here. I will talk about MY story and what happened soon as she run for cover at age 18 (I was 6 at the time).
My dad, was getting worse and worse and his addiction was way out of hand. He terrorised me on a daily basis. A typical day in my household would involve me being dragged out of bed by my mother at 7 in the morning (after already having fought my father), taken to school, called names, I would then come back immediately after school as the slightest delay would cause my dad to lose it, try to guess his moods...on a good day he would only be speaking to himself, bashing the furniture and masturbating in the toilet. On a bad day he would be picking fights with me over anything really and punishing me. Some days I could eat food...some days when dad wanted to punish me he wouldn't allow me to eat lunch. So I would be waiting for mom to come back home from work. Another round of fighting...then dad would be seething, popping his pills and demanding I did my homework with him...I would be ridiculed, humiliated, called names and was supposed to be "girl wonder" and do calculus in under 5 minutes or "else"...I once was hit because I rolled my eyes and dad took this as a personal insult...another time I was called names because it took me too long to drink a glass of water instead of doing my homework with him...he thought I was trying to humiliate him and "waste his time".
Age 12 my dad grabbed a knife and went for my mom. It was my birthday. I stood between them crying and pleading for him to kill ME instead of her. Both parents didn't bother. My mother was egging him on and my dad didn't notice him. Once the "crisis" was over, mother decided she "didn't love him any more" and started sleeping in another room, effectively denying him sex for the rest of his life. It worked for a while...but then sex hungry dad had to look for another "way out"...
My mentally unstable aunt (mom's sister) had got her divorce at that time and moved in with us. Soon dad started playing with her weak mind. He played "therapist" and feeding her pills as well. After a while she couldn't make a move without him. She started tormenting me and siding with him on every possible occasion. She was equally abusive. In fact, in order to be in his good books, she often made up stories, or disclosed personal stuff to him and created arguments where she would play out the innocent victim and I would be penalised. A little while after that, they started having sex in the house. The hormones were flying although I couldn't really understand what was going on. My mom was pretty ok with the whole deal. She would come back from work and lock herself up in her room. Aunt was running the show together with dad...I asked my mother a million times to leave, I told her he was hurting me, I told her he was constantly bringing me down and calling me names...she told me to "shut up" and close the door behind me...
When my aunt grew old or too mentally unstable (she suddenly saw the light and turned to God...) I was 17...my dad started controlling everything he could control about me. His constant fear was that I would be dating or meeting boys. And so he attacked my self worth with a vengeance. He would call me ugly or incapable and his favorite motto was that I would NEVER EVER be loved by men because I was so worthless, never get married or have kids and that HE could see the real, ugly, me...I hated myself. I had no self worth. I would lie in bed at night dreaming of the knight in shining armour to come save me. I liked boys but I felt that nobody could ever like me back...I was constantly heart broken...a simple rejection would send me running for cover. I had no friends because I had no people skills. My parents had alienated EVERYBODY and so I never knew how it felt to be authentic around people. Plus I was not really allowed to go out...
At 17 my dad would force me to sit next to him while he watched TV. He would look at scantily dressed women in garter belts and then look at me with a sexual, hungry look in his face and ask me if I found that woman beautiful. If I didn't want to respond he would say "you are jealous...why don't you want to admit that you will NEVER be like that?" and then go to the bathroom and you've guessed it...masturbate!!! I had menstrual cycle problems caused by stress, and my father would take me to the doctors and insist he was in front while they were scanning me...he would look at my naked belly...and then once, I had severe bleeding out of the blue and he forced me to sit on all fours so that he would "examine" me. He was a doctor after all. I pleaded that I was taken to hospital for an examination. He wouldn't hear of it...He took my underwear down and touched my vagina with his fingers. It hurt so much. It only took a few seconds but it felt like rape. He humiliated me. He had TOTAL control over my body. Another time, while I was wearing a v-necked top, he commented how my veins showed (on my chest) and that this meant I would lactate quite a bit when I got pregnant...he then kept commenting on my breasts and veins every time I wore something like that. So I started hiding myself. Always wore jeans and turtle necks. Or t-shirts in the summer...I was scared to show any skin...
To cut this very very long story short, I had no support whatsoever. I left home when I was 18 and went to study abroad for over 7 years. I didn't want to return so I got a job. My self esteem was shattered. I went from one abusive relationship to the next. I had problems sleeping, with my female identity, with constant day-dreaming and avoiding reality...you name it. I got depressed...and then I returned back home cause dad was diagnosed with cancer and I was supposed to help out. So I move back in and all hell breaks loose. It took me another 6 years and a lot of abuse to be able to extricate myself from their grasp. Oh, by the way I got date raped as well...thought I'd mention that. Because I picked the wrong men and thought they would love me...
I'm on therapy constantly and when I realised how my life has been, how much life I wasted and what happened to me, what TRULY happened to me I collapsed. Right now I am living with my boyfriend who is a great man, God sent him to me and he knows about everything and supports me through everything. I have minimal contact with my folks but I cannot seem to be able to start living. It feels like I'm in limbo land, not able to go back, unable to move forward still...And the worse part is the immense guilt...the guilt I experience...I have flashbacks of the abuse and also flashbacks of what I DID to compromise my own happiness. And sure I didn't know any better but it still hurts. But I am fighting...
So this is my story...I hope some people can relate and perhaps I can help them through sharing. And if you have the time, please pray for me because I am not out of the dark woods yet. Thank you all!
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by Marialla
(Location Undisclosed)
well, i dont know exactly what to say...when i was 8 my step dad(who i thought was my real dad) started to go into my room at nite... he would do stuff or make me do stuff to him... he told me that this was how i would show him that i loved him....two years later my real dad showed up.. he had just got out of prison...my step dad left n well where wasnt much of a difference... my real dad is an alcoholic.. and when he drinks he lets his anger out..he beats me over any little thing....
about when i was 12 my real dad was playin poker with his freinds.. my mom was always working...and well my dad lost a bet..he didnt have anymore money so he offered me.. lets just say he sucked at poker and lost alot.. i was the prize and still am..i dont know what to do anymore....
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by Heather
(California, USA)
i usually try not to think about what happend. i was only 4..almost 5 and have put it aside in my memory for most of my childhood, which is good. im 14 now. and now is when i break down from remembrance. my boyfriend and i had gotten more serious and cuz we talk about everything, we talked about sex. he was a virgin and i told him i was, but then i remembered and i told him i technically was. and i told him my story. he's the only person i have ever told.
you see what happend was i went to my next door neighbors house to go play with her, but she wasnt home and her dad answered the door. i was never a fan of him, no one was. i knew he abused his kids, even then. he told me she was in her room and i could go up, so i did and no one was there so i was lost. i went to tell him (because thats what 4 year olds do) and he had waited in the hallway for me... he walked me into his room.. and rubbed me.. my leg and my arms then moved to my stomach and started to forcfully removed my clothes. i didnt think TOO much of it, but i was scared. next thing i knew i was crying on the bed in immense pain as he kept forcing me onto him. he made me touch him i mean he MADE me, and i didnt want to disobey, i was frightened. how could a man in his 30s do that to a young kid? he kept trying to fit inside me.. but obviously i was too young and small for it to work.. but he had 'toys' that worked. other things that would fit.
eventually his wife and 2 daughters came home. he quickly dressed both of us and we went downstairs.
i stayed and played with the girl, because i didnt know what else to do.. tonight i started crying as soon as i got back from seeing my boyfriend, because thats what i thought about. and he kept asking me what was wrong, but i said nothing, so i wouldnt cry. luckily i moved 3 years later and could try and forget it. but chances are, i wont go walking around my old neighborhood, for the memories and im still scared. that man stole so much from me, he took something i should want to give to someone.. he made me someone else. the only positive thing that came out of it was..now.. im so much stronger.
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by Holly
(Location Undisclosed)
I have not told anyone my story and I am now at the point where I need to; like I need to get it out before I lose it. I need to heal. I was not going to include my real name but I know it is part of the healing, possibly one day I can tell others what happened to me face to face. I had suppressed what happened to me until I was almost 20 years old, when someone had said that they were molested. When they said this the first time nothing occurred in my mind but, when it was said again a few months later and a couple hours after that I was by myself and the memory just hit me like a ton of bricks. I did not know what to feel or think, I just wanted to forget about it again. But now I know I have to remember it to heal and understand some of the problems that I have; and that I am not alone.
When I was a child, I cannot remember the exact age but between the ages of 5 and 7; I was molested, once I believe that it was only once, it may of happened more but I just can not remember. However, the more I think about it, I just know it was just once. I can remember it. It happened in my house with my mother down stairs, and myself and the molester was upstairs. The one who molested me was my father's son, my blood half brother. It was only once but it should not have happened. Now what I know about molestation I feel that I need to heal and deserve to heal, and forgive but not forget; or the molestation will continue to control me.
Around the time it happened, all the signs were there but no one recognized them; for example I masturbated quite a bit. I started to gain weight and have never stopped. I decided to take control of my life and get healthy. However,unwanted attention that made me gain weight to save myself in a way had come back; it was not molestation but unwanted touching. A cousin of mine is very touchy; he will poke at me,rub up against my breasts and other parts of my body, he would do this to others as well and he would think it is so funny and not stop when I asked him to. It seems nothing and no one would do anything about it, including myself and other family members. He had been doing this since he and I was younger, we are the same age. The last time I saw him he did this and I started to gain the weight back with the excuses. Now I know it does not matter how I look or how old I am if someone wants to hurt me they will try. I know I have to tell someone about this so it can help me and possibly others heal. Thank you for this website and to others who have posted their stories. God bless we can heal together. It may sound strange, but I believe that God only gives us what we can handle; it may sound inconceivable but without faith I believe that there will be nothing to help me heal and continue. I do not want to push religion but it has helped me.
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by Kelly E
(Maryland, USA)
Hurting:
So I see that there are several people out there that have been through what I am going through. My story is short and sweet. I was given custody to my mother at 13 because my step-brother was molesting me. That was when I really grew up. At 14 I had my first little boy named J--. A year half later my first daughter came S--. Well I am 23 this year and am pregnant with my fifth child. This one I don't even know who the real father is. We need to stick up for children of abuse, I never realized that because of the abuse I'd had my life went looking for love. Having five children by 24 is not love!! I have been pressured by people to do favors for them, and because of the mental effect as a child I have had sexual relations with anyone that has come within five feet of me. We need to seek help for children of abuse. This last child of mine the social services may take him/her away because I am not fit to take care of anyone. I can tell you horror stories that I have put my children through. I believe everyone comes to a point when they must see that they are not nice people because of the way they were raised.
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by Susie
(Texas, USA)
When I was twelve years old, I spent the night with my older sister, her husband, and their son. I was asleep; and was awakened by my sister's husband. He had his face up next to mine and was telling me to be a good girl and not tell. Next my nephew woke up and cried; so he ran into the kitchen where my sister went to fix him a bottle. I was terrified because he was drunk and in his underwear. I didn't know exactly what he had done; but I was sore and irritated in the genital area for 2-3 days afterward.
After that incident, I was terrified of him and avoided him as much as I could. For some reason, I felt too guilty to tell anyone. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was his fault. Still, I did not want to be the one to "ruin" the family.
Because I did not tell, my mother would make me babysit for them. When they came home, he would always be the one to take me home. He would make passes and say nasty things to me like threatening to run away with me. This went on for years.
When I was nineteen, my mother and I spent the night with them. I made sure I slept in the same room as her so he would not bother me. I woke up in the middle of the night with him sitting at the head of my bed, in his underwear. I suppose he was touching me again. I told him he'd better get out of the room before my mother woke up. He left the room but stood exposing himself in the hall. When daylight came, I told my mother I was ready to go. On the way home, I told her everything. She was highly upset that I hadn't told her before but also madder that it happenend. She and my sister had words, who just blamed it on alcohol and nothing else was ever done. I was grown and did not have to be around him if I didn't want to; so I just went on with my life.
I realize that this story is nothing compared to most others; but my point was to stress that even one incident or one attempted incident can have a profound effect on a child. I lived in great fear for years. I still don't understand how he could do it and how the rest of the family could just accept it and go on. I guess I will carry that sadness to the grave...
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by No - Shame
(Location Undisclosed)
Light at the End of the tunnel:
Growing up wasnt easy at all in my house. My parents were so different. My mother is my angel and my rock, my father the complete oposite. My dad is an alcoholic. He started abusing drink from a young age. When he met my mum he had already had one violent previous relationship which resulted in his ex partner going into police protection. My mum knew he had a past but she saw something in him.
She fell pregnant with my brother and got married. He had already hit her when she was pregnant yet she still married him. Along I came and then my 2 other brothers. Times were hard. We lost our home, dad jumped from job to job while mam had to work sometimes 6am to 6pm. Dad was very strict with us. He wouldnt let us be normal children. I remember getting slapped with a wooden spoon across my back because I couldnt figure out a math equation in my homework. Things spirralled out of control. Watching my mam getting beaten and emotionally abused. We got treated the same. Sweeping bruses gettin broken over my brothers back. I got my head slammed into a wooden table. This continued untill I was 13.
Mam finally had the strenght to kick my dad out. It took her 15 years to get rid of him. The bruises and cuts had all faded but the emotional stress of it all remained with me. I blocked out 2years of my life. Gone. I vaguely remember 9/10. According to my mam this was the worst few years in our home. I went out with a guy who was lovely but started abusing drugs. I broke off the relationship to ensure that I would never fall into the same trap my mother did. Then I met "the guy of my dreams". Things started out well. Until one night during an argument he pushed me and I fell and banged my head off the floor. I got up dazed to feel a hand around my neck choking me. I managed to free my self and run out of his house. But I went back. Why? Because I thought I loved him. He mentally broke me, called me a sl*t told me I would never become anything. It wasn’t until I went to college and befriended a guy we’ll call Joe. Joe was funny and we had so much in common. Yet he came from a beautiful family, a loving one.
When my boyfriend at the time punched me at a party I had had enough. I went home and sobbed. I felt so low. I couldn’t stop crying. It took all my strength to drag my self into work. My two best friends saw the bruise on the side of my head. My friends both begged me not to go back to him. I didn’t. I eventually fell in love with Joe. He is my rock. We are together nearly 6 years now.
I always swore I would NEVER go down the same road as my mother. Yet I did. Why? I guess after so much physical and emotional abuse I didnt know any better.
Things with dad are still bad. He has liver problems now and refuses to acknowledge what he did to us was wrong. I understand it more now that I am older. He is a sick man but I cant excuse what he did to me and my family. What I am thankful for is that going through what I did as a child has made me the person I am today. My mother is now in her early 60's and she is amazing. She encouraged me to get back in touch with dad after 5years. Along with the help of Joe I did. It has not been easy as he is still drinking and he has tried to take his own life. Yet I have been there for him. I guess I am no longer afraid. I still feel so low sometimes wondering why I will never have my dad around, why my children will never have their grand-dad but it could be worse I guess. I still have trouble remembering the ages of 9/10. It worries me that I have blocked these memories out. I still struggle to trust people and suffer from panic attacks. But the light at the end of the tunnel is my mother, my partner and my siblings. We all have each other. None of us blame anyone for what we went through. No body knows but us what we went through. I could spend an entire week revisting all the times my father battered us but I cant dwell on it.
I love my family dearly and I thank my mother each day for being such a good mother. She raised us all amazingly and we have all been successful in life and will continue to do so. I guess my message is that dont ever feel that you are to blame. Address the issue head on. Being in contact with dad has helped me. I know everyone is different but instead of burying my head in the sand I searched deep with in myself and realised that I needed to do this for me.
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by Jess D
(Massachusetts, USA)
this is part 5 in my story. im still struggling with it all. i faced my abuser, i sat at his house on his couch! its been almost 2 yrs and i cant move on. im still seeing a therapist and feel its doing nothing. i took a course at the rape crisis center in the town where i live and just graduated on 04/14/11 i guess im happy. now im a certified rape crisis counselor. i want to help others but feel as i cant help myself how can i? there is alot in my head that i need tool get out.
im very depressed and suicidal.always thinking of a way out. i lie to people like my therapist and husband when im feeling really down and i try to overdose. i just feel if i do than its all over, no more worries, no more guilt no more stress no more feelings of shame or dirty! i just want all this pain to go away. i feel as no one undertands me, yes they say they do and im sorry but they have no idea. my husband a little while ago asked me a question that haunst me everyday. about 2 months he asked me Y did i cont letting my abuser abuse me? if he was out of my house how? why? my answer was really? y gonna ask me that? how dare you? how could you judge me? after all i have been through you are going to ask me that? i got up and left my house for a few hours to clear my head.i came back at midnight and went to bed. i havenot sat with anyone who has gone through this. i feel so alone. i was physically abused by my mother for many years and rape by my step father for over 10 yrs. how can i move from that without saying everything. let me tell you some of the things no one knows.
PL would make me give him oral sex, he would make me lock his bedroom door and make sure no one can come in.he would pretend that his penis was his dumb. he would make me close my eyes and say we were playing a game. he would than put his penis in my mouth until he came. i would have to swallow him, so that there would not be anything on him. he would than pull up his pants turn up the tv and let me open the door. this happened in a regular basis. he would lay next to me at nite and put his penis in my vagina. i dont really remember if every night my older sister would be there or not but i knew some of the time she was! did she remember/did she forget? i really dont know. this is the same sister that also got rape repeatedly. he would lay next to me side by side, pull his pants down, pull mine down just enough to put it in. i remember it hurt and i felt wetness, once he came (which i know now, but not then)he would make me change my underwear. tell me it was part of his game.i would say i was 4 5 maybe idk.
when i was 12-13 it still continue he moved out when i was 9 because my sister reported him. no one beleived her. he than became my neighbor and yet continued.This time is was different it was more detailed, i was like his sex toy. i didnt know what to do i had no one to talk to. no role models, my older sister was in and out of foster home by this time, i know now why she acted the way she did.being sexually abused and physically abused how else can a person act when all this is going on. i felt alone it still continued. my memories come n go. as days go on i remember little things like having orgasm from him.it happened alot was it 5times was it 100? i never knew what that was until years later when i lost what i think was my virginity.when this happen at his yellow house there were people outside his bedroom door in the kitchen. i stopped by with a lady and a group of kids walkin to a nearby park. the lady lived downstairs and we all wanted water,i was terrified and told the lady i would keep on walkin towards the park.as we got closer he was in the window and called me, his neighbor of course had no idea so i went up and i remeber him making me ride him until he came. i was just a child, yet i ask myself if he was out of my house why did i continue having him hurt me? his neighbor started knockin at the door to tell me she was ready, i said ok ill be out in a minute.when he was done he reminded me it was a game and not to say anything.
i saw him at a community health center and i freaked out.first i wasnt sure if it was him or not but about 2 wks later, someone told me and confirmed with me that in fact it was him! so close, i could of acted, done something. i hate with all my heart i feel as i beleive in god but yet y me? why cant i get over this?
i remember being in his new place, he called me up as i was playing hide and seek. i tried to ignor him but that was impossible the kids around me were tellin me he was calling me.so of course they had no idea of the abuse so i went upstairs. i walked up 4 flights of stairs i dreaded it. he had a family friend there who knew what was going on, he left for about 30 mins which seems for me like hrs.i was about 10-11 than when he was done his friend came back. i wanted to leave but his friend wanted to "hang out" so no choice i had to stay. he started touching me. put his hands under my shirt, his hnd down my pants and PL watching as he was cookin. he did not rape me (the family friend) but did molest me. i felt so dirty all over again, felt even worse. bad enough 1 but 2? family friend did it a bunch of times over and over, i can feel his penis behind me. i can hear his voice in my ear as this went on. every time he came over my house i pretended that nothing happened, they neva beleive my older sister so why beleive me? no one knows about the family friend, they know about PL.i ahve tried so many differnt ways of healing and nothing seems to work. from music to bubble baths, massage from my husband to goin out to a movie, yes it help for that moment but that it.my depression is worse than eva before. i wrote more of my story to see if maybe this is a way of healin. i said things that no one at all know. i feel people judge me. tell me to snap out of it, or take it easy or say things like im sorry...im tired of all this i know they are trying but i guess i need more.i feel as i cant be alone. my thoughts gets worse as weeks go on. i try the gym 1.5 hrs when i can and sometime 2.5 hrs on weekends.i get into my moods like a black hole a black room where no one is ther just me and have my negative thoughts. black room where im alone with just him trying to hurt him, trying to tell me its ok, him still raping me still me as a kid. when i get in this mood i try to get out of it but its hard...BLACK is all i see! no one can get me out of it...my husband had a couple of times but other than that im alone, either at work, home driving, where im it and i feel this way thats it, i try to forget my negative thoughts but somtimes its impossible.
i constantly think of suicide im looking into a hospital but scared, what if its a waste of my time. today its one of those days, i guess thats y im writing, i talk to a co worker which somtimes helps me. i try sometimes to talk to my husband but its hard, i dont want him depressed sad or feeling bad for me. sometime i wanna be alone other days i want him but its not fear for him if he doent know what mood i am. he cant guess, i know that so i feel bad. i love him with all my heart. him and my 4kids. y isnt that enough? y when i get in this mood no one matters? Y? i know that i love em and they mean the world to me but y? my husband is an amazing man, wonderful father n husband would give me the world.he wants the jess that i once was.i am trying but i take one step forward and ten back. i have a support family but in my black space i have no feelings no thoughts of anthing but negative and want it all to end.no one understands. my hushand tries but all that i have said in this site will be surprising to him he has no idea! i have my sister which was my best friend is no longer the same. getting better but not there yet, i guess i gotta take it in baby steps. my other close nd best friend who i would talk to everyday i no longer talk to as much. my new friend i try to open up but its hard. she is such a positive person and im going throgh all negative it diffrenet to talk. i love her to death but cant open up as much as i want to, is hard for me. i cant be ok and open up.i feel as if i open up with everything i need hrs no interuption no kids no nothing.i neva have that time, home with kids and husband, no way! too difficult. please help god if you are there, give me a sign that i can get over all of this! please.
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by Phil
(Cheshire, UK)
My father emotionally and physically abused me and my sister. I got it more, and had quite a difficult childhood and adult life. I was very confused, very withdrawn, had no confidence and could not interact with people I didn't know. I struggled at school, though I am actually quite intelligent. I had difficulty holding down a job, mainly because I could not deal with the fear of the situation of dealing with people and responsibility. I've had a drink problem from my late teens, which I've only recently addressed. I don't really blame my father (though I used to). I see now how troubled he himself was. He was treated much the same by his mother, who was probably treated the same by her family. She also almost certainly had some sort of mental illness, which my father probably had. He certainly had an obsessive compulsive disorder, which I also seem to have inherited.
My father's dead now, and though I wince when I think about our homelife, I do miss him, because he mellowed as he got older and I have a better impression of the man he could have been rather than the man his mind and his circumstance made him.
I'm middle aged now, late 40s, married and have two children. I'm still not the most touchy feely person, and my wife would probably say I was hard work sometimes, but I learned from her what a normal family should be like, and I never treated my kids the way my father treated us. I'm affectionate tell them I love them, and so hopefully that's an end to that flaw in the grain of my family tree.
Thanks for the opportunity to write, and all the information here. It's a great site that really helps.
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by Alison
(Illinois, USA)
When I was about four years old my mom started dating this guy who well, lets call him Charlie. Charlie seemed really cool, he was always buying me anything I wanted. A year or so later I remember Charlie always wanting me to stay inside with him instead of going and playing with my brothers. One day he decided that he'd touch me inappropriately, he told me if I told, I'd have to say goodbye to my mother. So I didn't tell. Eventually things got worse, but I still didn't want to tell. I felt as though it were all my fault. I'm almost seventeen years old and I still feel as though I deserve everything that happened. Nobody really knows what went on behind closed doors when my brothers went out to play. I really wish I had told somebody sooner, but I didn't. I waited until I was nine or ten. If YOU are a child that's been abused in ANYway, tell somebody NOW before it's too late.
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by Alannah (Aj)
(Michigan, USA)
My story starts when I was a baby and my real father was on the run. My mother was 18 and a factory worker, she wanted to have a life like when she did in high school before me. So she did she told my grandparents she didn't want me and she was going to put me in a foster home, she had the papers filled out and everything. She was truly done with me ,my grandparents said no and took me in, I lived in the same house as my mother and I guess she tried alittle kinda like a 8 year old trys to help a 7 year old. She'd come home and I'd ask if she could play with me and say I missed her and loved her and she would say she can't that she's tired. 5 minutes after that I'd hear her get in the shower and then the blow dryer and smell her perfume. That was a sure sign that she was not coming back till morning, she was gonna go out and party and she might come home or not. When I was 5 my mother saw me cry, slapped me and said I didn't need to cry that I was 5 going on 6 and 6 year olds didn't cry and that I better quit being a baby. When I was 10 my grandfather died and my mother started hitting me and pushing me more frequently so I started drinking so I didn't have to feel it so much, so I didn't let it get to me. she would tell me I'm stupid and a little kid, that I was usless or I needed to grow up, that I wasn't her daughter and she couldn't belive she ended up with . That I was a mistake. By 12 she started choking me and whenever my grandmother defended me she'd threaten my grandmother. A lot of death threats were thrown and my mother said that I was her kid and until I was 18 she could do whatever she wanted with me. And she did, she made me move into an apartment with her and her boyfriend T--. THAT was worse! He clouded her judgment and she would say I'm a embarrassment, that she didn't want me and I was worthless, he would say that he gave up on me and would threaten that I would be picking myself off the floor soon. I woulda left but I had a little brother to think about, I'd rather get hit and screamed at then it happen to him so I took it, it hurt but I didn't want him to get it so I kept my mouth shut. My mother let her boyfriend put me down and my lil brother. I started getting into drugs when my grandmother passed away when I was 14, I didn't want to feel anything. Not my mother hitting and screaming at me, not my mums boyfriend screaming at me not teachers lecturing me. Nothing. I started cutting myself and led myself to think that its my fault for all this, that I deserve it because I'm a bad kid. I kept saying I'm a bad kid, they really do love me. At one point I convinced myself that they're love for me was measured on how much it made me cry and how much it hurt and how dark the mark was afterwards and how loud they screamed and said I was nothing. I always wore sweaters to hide everything and wear makeup and act out of control or happy so people wouldn't think anything. Then when my mum started choking me real bad I'd go to school crying, terrified to go home, I'd make myself throw up at school because I cried so much I convinced myself that I'd be better dead so I tried getting hit by cars, making it look like a accident. But nothing worked I'd never get hurt. It didn't help that my teachers looked at the signs and knew but didn't help at all. When I was 15 my mums boyfriend T-- started getting really mad at me and he'd slam crap around, my mum threw a dictionary at me while he would scream how dumb and useless I am and that no guy will ever want me. My mum started throwing my to the wall and choking me till everything got blurry and I almost passed out. She would throw me on the table and put a knife to my neck. T-- would throw stuff and he would get so mad he'd go to the basement and start beating the wall, and my mother would tell him " hit her she aint gonna do nothing, just hit her, you hit her hard enough she'll keep her mouth shut". I got so scared that I would sit on my roof. Around 12 I got used to everything so I taught myself not to cry and to be strong, to keep everything deep down inside so I didn't cry when she hit me or said something no matter how much it stung. About 2 months before my 16th birthday I got mad and started crying and broke down and cut my long hair to my shoulders. And I started talking back, instead of cutting I screamed back and hoped they hit me so much that I'd get taken out of the house. I couldn't take it anymore, I dared them to kill me or kick me out because if they did, they would never see me again. I drank and pressed anyone to make a move and I'd make one that hurt. I still hid when my mum and T-- got into a argument about me though. I still drank and smoked. I have nightmares about them killing me. I'm 16 now. My mum still hates me as her daughter, I have a boyfriend that makes me feel safe, and I'm still hiding. I fight back now, alittle, but a couple weeks ago I gave up on fighting back. In a year I will be getting emancipated and moving in with a friend. Hopefully I will be able to get my little brother out soon, he is going to be 6 this year and they already yell at him :( but I protect him. I'm Aj and that is my story.
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by Lena
(USA)
Friendship gone wrong:
A few days ago i caught on of me friends playing with his pritave part. he told me to touch it or he would tell me teacher. Well i did what anyone else would do not to get in trouble. He sent me a texted message and told me to sneek out of my house so he could have sex with me. i told him hell no. Now im having night mares because im remebeing things that happened in my past and i dont no what to do.
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by Ashley
(CA)
It all started in 2nd grade. I remember being in school and hanging out with somebody named J--. I was 7, and she was 9. We became close friends and one day she asked me if I wanted to play a grownup game. I was young and naive, so I said yes. She took me into the bathroom and tied me up, blindfolded me, gagged me, and molested me. I thought it was normal and this continued for about a month until she dissapeared.
That was a long time ago. Around 4th grade, one of my cousins locked me up in a room and asked me if I wanted to fight. She turned off the lights and punched, kicked, scratched, and bit me until I gave up. Eventually, she stopped but I never knew why.
Around 5th grade was when my father started to get abusive. He pulled me up by my hair and slammed me against the wall, punched me, and did many other things just to hurt me. I never understood why. When I was 13, the abuse started to become emotional. He insulted and berated me without giving a second thought. All of these eventS built up stress and anxiety and I searched everywhere for ways to cope, and I eventually became a drug, alcohol, and sex addict.
I'm ashamed of what happened and how I coped with it. About a year ago, I found some friends that understand what I've been through, even though they don't know the whole story. They've been there for me whenever I needed them and they've helped me get rid of all my bad habits and addictions. They introduced me to a wonderful church, and I'm so thankful for them. I don't know where I'd be without them.
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by Lescia
(Missouri, USA)
When i was about 6 year old on a hot day during the summer every one got together at my grandmothers house to hang out it was normal and this was the first time i expeirnced it i went in to the kitchen to pour me some thing to drink and my big cousin 14 or 15 at the time came in behind me and every one else was in the front room well he pulled down my pants and began to rub his penis on my but and between my legs and he was touching my breat i just froze because i didnt know what to do then he stped and left i went into the bathroom and cryed because i knew i couldnt tell ne one what happend. The one day he had to baby sit me iwas older. then probably 9 or 10 and he made me touch him and he touched me and toold me that if i told he would kill my baby brother and sister and so i never sed any thing then when iwas about thirteen iwent to my friends house for a sleep over and i was jus about to fall asleep and all the other girls had fallen asleep and her big brother had walked in and came behind me iwas about to turn around and say somting but then he bgan touching me and rubing his handss all over me but i guess he heard a noise cos he pull my cover back on me and left out the room. that was the last time i was sexually molested by someone ive never told an i see the boys regularly.
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by Jessica
(New Zealand)
All by myself:
When i was younger i got sexually abused my brother, i thought it was normal because, he was my brother my older one, you can trust them right, I cant remember when it exactly started but it was sometime round the age of 6-7-8. it started with me showing him my body because "he asked" turned into dares, he would also pay me, film me. i thought it was normal until i realized well it wasn't, we haven't really talked about it, but im scared, im scared of telling my parents, what would they think of it? In some ways i think it is my fault, but then i know there are worse things in this world people have been abused a lot worse. I feel almost "stupid" telling this, but it feels good to get it out of my system. i have told a few friends, ones that i can trust. I am 14 years old now, i try not to think about it but it always crosses my mind, i hope to work through it in my life. I have never been to any kind of help as I am trying to get through it myself.
Thank you for reading my story :)
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by Me
(Location Undisclosed)
I've always known that something happened to me when I was a little girl but somehow my mind protected me from remembering too much. Nevertheless, the older I got, the more fragments came to my mind - like smells, reminders of pain and fragments of picture I can't quite identify. I know that I was sexually abused when I was around the age of 6 but I don't remember the person who did it. I have a feeling but I don't want to make statements when I'm not 100% sure. All I know is, that the way I am now - always wanting to be in control of things, scared of life and being utterly overperfect when it comes to myself - is related to my childhood experiences. That's what psychotherapy has already told me.
I've never been in a relationship so far, since I can't open up to a man and let myself fall (I'm 27 now).
What comes on top of it, that my sister, who is a few years older than me, had sexually abused me too. I still remember these scenes clearly - with her ushering me to bed, as soon as my parents went out. Then she told me to touch her - that it would be like a game. It went on for some time but till today my sister has never shown any sign of regret. I still don't know if she remembers it at all - or if she is just acting like she doesn't.
I want to achieve so much in life - but at the same time I'm so so scared of everything. Of not being in control of things. I see people being in happy relationships - being able to let themselves open up in that way and it pains me that I can't seem to do it as well.
The most tragic thing is, that people, who abuse children, do not think about the consequences. A life gets changed forever - your personality strays from a healthy way. That's why I'm active in preventing sexual child abuse, because children don't know the consequences of it all.
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by Debbie G
(Oklahoma, USA)
Daddy's angel, Daddy's trash:
I am a 53 year old proud mother of 5, grandmother of 10,but scared after all these years am I perfect mom and grandma and I am not,because of I cannot let go of being thrown away.My Mom Died 10/08,then my Dad shot himself in the head 12/08,because their lives ended when the fight died,but they left the ones that were wounded here.If I told you everthing me as the oldest it would be almost a unfinished book,because I am here.So heres a short letter to my Daddy.Probly corny but the truth.
In 1956 my parents meet,Both were beautiful,mom was small and look like a model untill she died men chased her,same thing with my Dad and I
happened to his Female twin.So my Letter to Daddy.
Please Daddy,
When They placed me in your arms that first day,did you love me.I was your first born also looked just like you.You carried me so proudly the 1 year of my life.The Prince and his princess,as I got old enough to walk the 3 of us would walk together hand in hand,you 2 looked so beautiful and I was special child of the magical couple.Then my Dad started to change he believed he was special everything.I remember everyday Mom Had me perfect for Daddy to come home,as I sat on the porch watching for the dust cloud my Daddys was home,all I could see was the dust then out of cloud walked my Daddy he would pick me up swing me around and told me he loved,then as we walked into our house,mom would stand there looking perfect,and dinner had to ready then and there.My Dad slowly put me down and I would have to tell him everything mom did or if we had company.Mom would stand there with a ashen look on her face,as my Dad would take a white glove out of his lunch pail,tell me to wait outside.I tried not to hear my moms pleas for help and to stop,then it would as I peeked inside I saw my Dad dragging my mom bloody and broken by her hair to the badroom calmly shut the door,wash up and we would sat down as normal and eat dinner,After that Dad would leave and I would help mom .Then you just stopped coming home.We went to live with our grandmas house and she become mom and dad but she did not want us.Mom would leave everynight stay away then we would get a call from a hospital or jail,and she hated us because if she looked us we would be hit because we looked like Daddy.Then 1 day mom came home with our new Dad and it was a man Daddy hated,so they were going to show him.1 morning mom got me out of bed and told me to get ready really pretty.So confused as I left the house they told me what I had to say to this man,to keep me and my sisters safe.We walked into a large room with a man in the center as I looked around shock hit me there was my Daddy he had come to get us that is what they said we would be safe.Daddy was there but as I started to him I was pulled back,and Daddy would not raise his head.The man asked my Dad to stand,as he did.Then my Daddy told the man He did not want to be my Daddy anymore,so he sat down And we stood the man told me my new name and the man next to me was my Dad.Since that day no man was my dad,the man they gave me to was a pedophile and mom knew it.Then my nightmare begin.Please wake me up
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by Josephine
(South Carolina, USA)
Taking action:
Today my younger sister called me to tell me she filed a report of child abuse against our father.
I should tell you that my parents divorced when we were very young. My mom left my dad because he was possessive and would hit her. A few years after their divorce we would occasionally see our father at his mother's house (our grandma).
From the age of 8-13 I was sexually abused/molested by my father, and so was my sister. At that age I never realized what was happening, I just knew it made me feel inferior, scared and disgusted. He would 'accidentally' change the tv from cartoons to porn then switch back to cartoons. If we looked at the tv he would taunt and tease us for looking at the nude women. I would shut my eyes and cry. But how do you tell someone about that? How do you explain what he does? At that age I didn't know anyone could do anything about it.
Things got worse as the years went on. He would caress my leg, and try to go from my calf and higher up on my thigh. I would tell him to stop, then he'd say "I'm your father, I can do what I want--I made you" I would start yelling then he'd leave me alone. On even worse days, he'd pull my bathing suit bottoms down in the pool at my grandma's house and try to touch my rear end. The worse part about my grandma's house, is that I feel like my uncles and aunts, who would be there too, saw the signs of our abuse, but did nothing about it.
The touching, the taunting, the abuse got worse. He would wait till we were asleep and start rubbing our rear ends and nibbling on our ears. I know this, because I woke up while he was doing this. I couldn't move, I didn't move. And I hate myself for not doing anything. I was frightened and scared that he would hurt me.
For much of this time, I didn't know that this was abuse. I thought child abuse equals child rape or touching of the genitals. I felt helpless then and I feel stupid now. I wish I would have known what I know now and have stood up for myself and my little sister.
Now, I'm 22 and still as scared as ever. I've managed to suppress all of this after I cut my father from my life at the age of 14. I met a wonderful man who loves me, I've just graduated from college and completed my first internship. Life has been a breeze once I had put that past behind me. But when my sister called me today to tell me she filed a report and is pressing charges, I freaked. My bubble I had created these many years came crashing down. I cried, I was angry and I didn't want to have anything to do with this. I just wanted this to just all go away.
But then I talked to my sister, who is the complete opposite of my life. She constantly ran away from home when she was 16, she did drugs, got arrested, cuts herself and degrades herself for men. I realized that she needed this, and like it or not--I may need this too. She has been tormented by our shared past, she needs justice, solace, peace of mind, some closure.
Not everyone comes out of child abuse able to move on or remain unscathed. She needs my support and at first I wasn't willing to help because I wanted to preserve my way of life now. I didn't want the past to be a part of who I am, I didn't want 'him' to be a part of who I am. But after visiting this website, I do feel a little better about my sister's decision and I know she needs me more now than ever.
Has any one reported/filed child abuse before? What was the outcome? Is there any good that comes of it? Or did you feel like you were being dragged through the mud and being judged/pitied or being treated differently? Please help.
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by Tina
(Location Undisclosed)
I'm no longer in an abusive situation, but it still affects me some to this day. Most days, I'm fine, but sometimes, memories still creeps its way back. I'm now 22, graduating from college in June and looking forward to my future.
This is something I wrote years ago, of what I felt like at the time.
Fears
Promises broken, heart shattered
Immediately, a wall is built
Unspoken fears circle around me
Fears only I know to be true
What I can not say in words
My eyes are bound to show
What my eyes can not reveal
My heart forever hides
My heart forever hides my fears
Too many fears to show
As long as those fears are hidden
Forever are they a burden to me
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by Carmen L
(North Carolina, USA)
I know my parents divorced when I was just a baby, there after I was dropped from her mother, here there god knows where, I can't really remember too much of the early years well. She had another "man" on the side, he wanted her even when she was with my father, always bothering her. Father was forced out of the service a few days before my birth so I was told, and the other man came with crib, ect. in hand. Awhile after we were with father again, home, safe, for a very brief time I may add..she left father when Iwas around 9 or 10 ms old and dropped me with her people to run off to that other man who promised the moon, she says as back it the late 50;s it was quite unommon to see a white woman with a hispanic man, I don't know. She told so many lies I found out in life too late.
So, she settled with this man, I was born in 59, they married and came and got me from whereever she'd left me in 1964 and he adopted me in 65, promosing her he would treat me no different than there son they had in 62..how untrue that prooved to be. He was in the service so life was grand when he was gone. I always felt like an outsider and learned why. From 1965,he was out to sea, until 1970 when he returned from his third tour of duty in Nam I had an ok life. It went completely to hell after that.
May 1970 she had twins, on my birthday they came home, that made a total of 6 with me.They were my 12th birthday gift, how lucky can a girl get..she went on the sucicidal train and checked out for a few months while I stayed out of 5th grade to care or them until hewould get a house keeper...we would go to his mothers, everyone of his kids could play eat and drink while I had to sit in the living room quitely and wait, I was allowed water of course..
I became a teenager and things worsend, he became an alcoholic!! Great match, he would get drunk and angry so he would beat me with his belt buckle, fist, pool stick what ever was handy while she pretended not to notice. I took it for awhile, at 14 I would fight back with the drunk and cuss him and even throw and tear things up in self defense the way I say it..then they started with the phyciatric bs, the thorazine, just too many things to list..Juvinille detention for the last half of 8th grade and all of 9th grade,such wonderful parents Ihad.
I got out, he made sure to let me know I could never live at there home again, off to foster homes I started going..even that sick insanity did not keep me from her, that is a sickness in itself that we still feel beholden to the one who bore us after all of that.
Fially she forged birth certificates for a boy and I from a home Iwas living in, I was 16, she really wanted me gone bad!! It did'nt work out he too was an abuser..butI was free so I took off on an adventure with the Ringling Brothers Circus a while, then just was here there and anywhere for the next 3and a half yrs. I came to see her, I can stay 1 day,she told me of my father noone was ever alound to speak of and home I went, I loved my father deeply, we had a great repore and father and daughter relationshlp until his death in04. By then I had counted myself out of the game as a loser, a nomad, had a hard time staying put in one spot too long. For years I had my mother on a pedastal when she was asguilty as he was...all of them have a part in it..If they knew what or how it devestates our lives would it still go on I wonder,, or are they so barbarak they have no care of it..I often wonderd if I would have had all the amenities of a real home if I could have had dreams, possibilities, and a college career to pursue although I never was given that oppurtunity, I want other chldren from abuse to be given that..If I had the money I would open a huge home for all the misfortunet one's noone wants out there, I would want them, I would love them.
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by Katherine R
(British Columbia, Canada)
well, i have an older brother (he is 28 and still lives at home) and for the past little while my brother has been treating me really horribly. he is always treating me like i am worthless and extremely pathetic. he always tells me I'm stupid and he calls me a selfish b**ch all the time. he also calls me a fat pig because i always eat a lot of food (I'm bulimic) and he tells me i should just give up trying to lose weight because it will never happen. every time i walk by him or he looks at me or he comes into the room and I'm just resting, he looks at me like I'm the stupidest thing on the planet and i shouldn't be wasting precious air. some times we get into fights and he gets really angry, he has hit me and pushed me against a wall. tonight he started screaming at me for being on the computer to0 late and when i wouldn't go to bed he proceeded to scream at me calling me a worthless b**ch and then he grabbed my wrist and shoulder and pushed me across the kitchen into the table. when i started to cry he started telling me i was a cry baby and needed to grow up. i went into the bathroom and locked the door, he stood outside the door imitating my crying and saying ooh... boohoo, you poor baby. while i was still in the bathroom he went and picked up the things i had knocked over from being pushed into the table and i could hear him saying " what a f***ing messy b**ch, she cant even clean up her own f***ing mess." I'm just confused because I've heard of emotional abuse but only coming from parents not siblings. thanx for reading
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by Deselvia
(Boise, Idaho, USA)
I was 8 years old when my dad started the abuse. I remember the way he smelled, beer on his breath. He touched me a little and told me that it was normal. By the time I was 10 it became a lot more then touching he put his thing in me. It was an everyday thing till I started my period. I couldn't wait to start my period every month after that. But then he got angry and started the beatings. When I was 15 I didn't care any more and told him no but that didn't help. I blocked out a lot of this so I don't remember much. I was 17 just a month away from 18 and I told my sister everything. We went to the cops and I was put in a group home till the day before my 18th birthday. My dad he only got 10 years the judge called it an eye for an eye. 10 years of my life so 10 years of his. I don't think the judge realized that it's affected the rest of my life. Since my dad went to prison his side of the family wanted nothing to do with me, my mom wanted nothing to do with me and for 2 years after all of that I fought to get my brother to see the truth. I left my home town when I was 18 and now I am 21 happy and have a new family, don't get me wrong I don't have kids but what I mean by new family is my girlfriend and her family brought me in and call me there own.
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by Sharayah
(USA)
It all started when I was about seven. I was normally such an obediant, easy-going little girl--But when I came into school I didn't have many friends, and getting me to obey instantly wasn't so easy anymore. It started with an insult: "You're too hard to deal with" "I don't understand where we went wrong with you..you used to be so easy.." "Why are you so terrible?" "You have no friends, you're stupid, no one likes you just get out of here." The list goes on and on. One day my mom was especially angry because she didn't have any of her meds left, so she locked me and my big brother in our rooms. We devised a plan to sneak out the window and run away. Too bad that plan didn't work out because only halfway down the street our dad drove up and ordered us back to the house. At that time, we had no clue how bad we were really gonna get it. Broken glasses flew past our heads, screams of agony and frustration missing our ears, slaps and punches to our soft, tear-stained faces. It was unlike any other punishment we had gotten before. But it got worse: At one moment I looked over and saw as my dad plucked my 11 year-old brother up by his neck, squeeze until the kid turned purple, and slam his head into the wall repeatedly. I couldn't help but scream in protest, and that's where I started to feel my parents' full power. My mom slapped me across the face, told me to be quiet unless I wanted the neighbors & cops to hear how bad I'd been. When I refused, I got a nice boiling pot of water thrown at my midsection. That left a lovely scar. Now that I'm sixteen, the beatings have gotten worse and worse. I went to group counseling with my parents for 2 years, only to hear what I heard every time after I was beaten: "I'm so sorry, I love you so much, don't you know that I never mean to hurt you? Mommy and daddy are only trying to help you, I'm sorry we get so out of hand sometimes." Then the crying, and the holding..& I would pretend like it was all fine. I'm always pretending I'm fine. Now that my older brother is gone, I feel the absolute worst of their rage--me being the one to choke out now, punch, and slam against the wall. Of course, my two younger siblings for some reason, have never gotten more than a slap and a scream. I have a boyfriend I have now been dating for just over two years. I love him more than anything in my entire life, and even though I'm just sixteen, I know this is real. He told me to tell my parents that I was going to leave next time they hit me. That didn't work so well. Over the summer, my parents found out about my habit of smoking pot, and drinking..they didn't like that so well. My dad growled and screamed in my face after my mom had punched me, then he backed me into my closet door when I caught his hand in mid-slap. He grasped my neck tightly and said "Don't you ever do that again." after slamming my head backwards a few times. I told him I wanted to leave, that I wasn't going to take this 'abuse&apology' thing anymore. I was then dragged out by my hair onto the driveway and told that if I wanted to leave the only place I was going was the police station. When I argued that THEY would be in the ones in trouble for abuse, they laughed in my face and told me they would take me to the cops and tell them I was a runaway...I stayed home. To this day I deal with off and on abuse and apologies.
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by Steve
(Kentucky, USA)
Twice Sexually Abused:
I was sexually abused twice as a child although I didn't recognize it for what it was at the time. The first time happened when I was in the hospital for an extended time suffering from rheumatic fever. I often had to get injections in my bottom and one nurse, a female, seemed to delight in my not wanting them. When she would get tired of my protests and force me to roll over, she'd lift my hospital gown and give me the injection. Then she would roll me back over and briefly fondle my genitals, telling me it was my "reward." I have never forgotten how ashamed this made me even though I know I didn't comprehend what was going on. The worst part about this for me was I saw that woman around town all the time for years after.
My second time was so horrible that I still have nightmares about it. I was 11 and two high school boys cornered me in an empty locker room and one held me down while the other forced himself inside my mouth. It only lasted about five seconds, and there was no climax, thank God, but the event left more of a scar upon me than anything else ever has. And I have never told anyone in person about it. I hope that by telling it here at least it will help me to start feeling better about myself. Then I somehow felt these events were my fault, but now I at least know they weren't. Still, I wish I could forget them.
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by Anonymous Girl
(USA)
Ok so im almost 16 now and don't know if this counts as verbal abuse, if it is, it is really mild.
I have aspergers wihch is like autism. I also have adhd, sensory intergration dysfunction, borderline schizoprenic and they say possible brain damage because i hit my head when I am mad.
Idk, I am really slow in school but really good at it, idk just lazy i guess. I don't understand stuff the way other people do and it makes them mad at me.
i don't like school cause ever since 4th grade, my teachers started calling me names. so far i am 'stupid', 'liar', 'idiot', 'slob', ignorant', 'pig', 'ugly' - oh and that is just the TEACHERS!
My 6th grade teacher made me stay in all the recesses because my desk was messy and she also dumped it on the floor in front of the class and made my classmates clean it and then they would throw my stuff at my head.
They also call me the names in front of the class. They'd also shout out my grades (which i think is private?) in front of the class too
There is much more (not involving) school, but i wont go into that here. I have already been to the pych ward, but they say i am fine.
3 days ago was my 64th attemt at suicide, yes i keep track, cause i am just weird like that. Oh, and i don't want noones attention.
oh, and my dad tried to smother me when i was 3.
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by Yuri
(Location Undisclosed)
I don't really know if I was sexually abused as a kid. I've always had the feeling and had weird dreams that suggest I was but I don't really know. I used to chalk it up to my mind being overly imaginative but the more I try to make myself understand the worse it gets. The memories or dreams that I have are foggy and seem to change whenever I think of them. The people I see in my dreams abuse me, are people close in my life today so its really bugging me out. I don't know if there is a way to actually know the truth.
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by Carol T
(New Zealand )
GUILT GUILT GUILT. I am 14mnths younger then my eldest sister and i did not save her. My dad and his friends never sexually abused me that i know of because i was such a loud mouth and fiecty. My sister was not like that. while i was running around getting help for myself as a young teen, not only did the authorites ignore my sister but so did i. I got help for myself and did not even try to take her with me. What is wrong with me for doing that? my dad put my sister into prostitution from age 13 onwards, we were both exposed to acts of beastiality, child pornography and a snuff video, and my father masturbating and using objects on himself infront of us. But my sister had all his mates taking a piece of what they wanted from her. I cant understand why i would leave her, why would i do that? I am very selfish person who only cared about myself. we had no mother and my dad was sexually abusing our friends as well. i can not have a normal relationship with men, if ever i am intimate with someone my dad is present in my thoughts and i cant get him out of my head, i dont have any desire to induldge in those thoughts, his presence just wont go away. I have been in counselling since i was 11 yrs old, done hypnotherapy, cognitive behavor therapy, a long list of medications, meditation, soon staring dialectual therapy. it is getting better slowly, very very slowly. I want to let go of it all now but cant until i know why i left my sister to basically rot in that place of hell.
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by Mazy
(Scotland)
I've only recently moved out of my home. I am so Glad i have, home was a nightmare! My mum was always in weird moods. Sometimes she would hum a song, if you could call it that. The endless drone was enough to drive me insane. Other times she would stumble about and sware like mad, mostly hitting me or complainig about me. She would drop a glass over my head when i sat down. After doing that she would surround me with crushed glass and tell me to walk over it if i wanted to go away. If i stepped over it she pushed me onto the glass. I was never allowed to wear socks or shoes inside the house and my mum had a mean trick of switching the heating in my room off on very cold days.
My Dad was always drunk, you could smell him before you could see him. He would hit me alot and throw me around. His threats were quite scary;
"Smile at me wrong today and i'll crush you!"
"I'll slap you so hard they'll never find your F'ing body!"
"If you want to be famous, i'll make you famous. The first girl to be found completely black and blue!"
I used to put on a brave face to this but when he was gone and finished hitting me i would cry for ages.
When i got my HPV jag he took great pleasure in smacking me where the needle had been.
My school never suspected anything. They thought I joined lots of free clubs because i was willing to learn, but it was only to get away from home. I didn't talk because it was polite, but it was because i was scared to. I didn't show emotion because i was strong, but it was because i had to always keep it in. I was covered in marks because i was clumsy and wild, but it was because of my parents.
I am now 17 and i have left my house and trying to get a job as an occupational therapist. I am also trying to take in my sister who is having to live through the same as i did.
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by Leilani
(Hawaii)
My parents were killed when I was 7 months of age. My abusive uncle,M, took me in and did not start the abuse until i was 5 years. i remember he beating me with a frying pan and pouring hot oil on my back. my other uncle,S, was the one who convinced uncle M to beat me.At age 6 uncle M married my step aunt d. D had a son my age who M hated. his name was C and he was my only friend who knew what happened every single day at home. D just stood there with a sad look on her face when I was beaten along with her son C. The part about the abuse that is hard to forget is the fighting, Me and S's kids had our hands and feet tied behind are back and are mouths were gagged while we were thrown in a pit with dogs that were used for fighting. It was the second most painful thing I ever had to go through. The most painful thing i went through was looking through a peep hole and i saw C being beaten and spanked. one of M's followers ran up to the peep hole and tried to poke my eye out with a knife but i moved fast enough to not have my eye poked out but I still have the scar where he cut two millimeters of my ear off. I am fifteen now and even though C and I ran away and I live with an extremely kind family I still am mentally abused by M and S. I live 6 miles away from both of them and they both take great pleasure in reminding me of my horrific abuse but the worst part about it is they mentally abuse C and I. I feel like no matter how hard i try I will never be able to get away from M, S, and even D.
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by Jasmine
(Location Undisclosed)
So how do I start this.....well when I was probably 6-8 years old I was sexually abused by my older brother. I didn't know what we were doing was bad so..I never told anyone except my best friend but I'm not gonna do anything about it. I'm over it I guess.. Well before my parents got divorced my mom used to beat me and my brother if we were acting "bad" we were kids I don't get how we act bad. Well parents got divorced and my dad and I moved to Chicago and he got remarried to a b***h..I hate her. Well I stated visiting my mom and I decide I wanted to go live with her but my dad wouldn't let me. I started getting older I'm 14 now, and we'd have spool many fights like I no longer like my parents.i started living with my mom when I was 13. When I started school she decided she wanted to go see her fiancé out of the country. & she pretty much threw me out at my dads and neither of them like me cause I'm rebilous. I snuck out and my dad beat me. He didn't even send me to school so I'm not in school right now... I moved in with my sister, & I really want to get in Foster home I just don't know how. & I stated cutting myself.
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by Gloria S
(Ohio, USA)
I was 7years old when my child abuse started. My mother married a man named B-- (stepfather) he was nice at first, but after a few months he became very mean towards my mother and me.It seemed he picked on me more.When i was 3 my grandmother took me in to her home and raised me till she passed on my 7th birthday.Before she died she told my mother to make sure she took good care of me,but she never did. B-- started hitting me with a razor strap they are very wide and leave big welts on your skin.I had to wear long sleeved clothes and pants to school all the time even when it was hot.I was very scared of him.There was a couple of times he tied a string on my finger and told me this meant i would get a beating if i did not get a good report card i had to wear that string on my finger for 6 weeks,I would go to school with this string on my finger and kids would make fun of me.I cried all the time.My grades weren't good i could never pay attention i always thought of getting beat and i always did. B-- always made me clean the house,do dishes,and what ever else he made me do,I always wondered why my mom let him do this to me.Now that i am older i know why because she was scared of him too,he hit her too,there's a lot more abuse i could tell you about but i would b writing forever that's why Im writing a book of my life.I am now a grown women and a lot of this abuse still bothers me. I wish i would have told some one when i was young but i was so scared of my stepfather,and all the beatings.I want everyone that is abused to tell someone don't keep getting abused(young and old )because it stays with you for along time.Thanks for reading this i hope it helps.
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by No Name
(Location Undisclosed)
Since i was little my mother would abuse me, emotionally: blaming me for things that were not my fault, never accepting me, always letting me down, calling me names, embarrassing me, verbally attacking me, trying to be close and then pulling away, making me feel guilty for things that i should not be. physically: it would be the occasional, hair pull, slap, hit on the back or butt with pants down, thrown down sometimes dragged, chased around the house with a horse whip once or twice. anyways it occurred often enough for me to remember it and know that it was wrong. i was adopted, and because of this i grew up to have severe abandonment issues, a lying problem and severe OCD. When i was younger and the abuse had been at its hight, i had known who i was, i had loved to sing, writing poetry had come naturally, a rhyme would pop into my head and i would write it down, with out even having to think of a poem, i used to have a beautiful voice, i used to love to draw, and was great at sports. After the abuse grew to a fight every night, and as a result of this constant home situation, i was a social out cast unable to interact with other children, and unable to focus on my work, after this i stopped singing, i stopped drawing and was no longer able to write poetry. my child hood had been stolen so i did not know myself, i do not even know my favorite color, what style of clothes i like and i want to know why. why cant i sing anymore? why am i all of a sudden clumsy? why cant i write poetry? was it because my mother would get involved with all of the above and embarrass me and not listen to me? i just want to be myself...thats all i want, i used to love my religion but my mother interfered with that also and now i don't even know the first thing about myself and i just want my life back, i don't want the effects of the abuse, i want to be able to sing, and laugh and i want my life back. my mother was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. she may die. and i just find myself always lying...even to myself. i just want to be honest. i need help. i need myself. i lost the ability to be myself, why? how could this happen? i loved myself. i did not stand around while my mother did this, i fought, i told my dad, i fought. why cant i find myself?
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by Lisa
(Location Undisclosed)
I really don,t know how to start, I,m in my 20s and have 2 lovely boys. But still live at home cause if I say I want to move I,m left feeling guilty because my mum will be left with another alcoholic who she married after splitting up with my Dad. I also feel like I,m ruining my boys life as now there Dad don,t come and see them because of me, Because he wanted to be able to see them with out feeling like his being watched. But how can I trust him with them, in my head I head I think there all the same no matter what I do it never seems right.I don,t want to live like this everyday, everything I do I know will be wrong. Everyday feels longer and longer.I want to be strong for my boys but I,m finding it harder every day.From as young as I can remember I remember being touched by my alcoholic father I remember as if it was yesterday I can still smell the smell of the drink on his breath . If he was,nt happy with what he,d made me do he,d get the belt or punch or kick then lock me in the bedroom cupboard for not being a good girl like he,d asked. As for my mum she always seemed to be out doing something as he,d always have something for her to do all the the time. The only time I felt safe was when he was out drinking and I was left on my own . It felt nice being left on my own. I did,nt feel lonely because that was normal.At school I kept my self to my self so know one would know how dirty I felt inside. As I got older things got worse being raped by my own father sometimes daily he told me it was my fault for being a dirty little tramp. I still wonder what I did so wrong. When I was 11 my mum and dad split up and I still went to see him because I felt sorry for him being alone and I thought maybe he,d love me more because he,d know I cared. A year later my mum married another alcoholic and he never touched me but use to come out with rude remakes towards me and still does sometimes now but thats life. At this time I was going to see my dad I still felt like I had to do what he said but things started to get better as I got older when I reached about 16 the abuse stopped he,d still call me names but that was just normal from about 17 I always knew I did,nt feel normal and thats all I wanted was to feel normal so I started going out started drinking. The drink seemed to help so I drunk more and more as time went on. When I was 18 I met a guy who was very controlling but it did,nt matter cause I had the drink to block it out untill 5 months later I fell pregant but lost it with in the first few weeks so I shut my self away in my mums house for a few weeks by which time he,d moved on and found someone else. So I started drinking again antill I was nearly 19 I,d met someone and fall pregnant he was alright he,d tryed to treat me well so I stayed with him Then when my oldest was born. I become so protective I did,nt want anyone near him not even his father a few months later I fell pregnant again by this time he,d had enough because I would,nt let him take my son out or look after him with out me being around so be time I had my other son that was it between us . He still came to see them at my mums but I made sure I was there all the time and about 4 months ago he had enough all together he said if he can,t have them on his own that was it he would,nt come round know more. My boys are now 6 and 7 and I feel like I,m ruining there life to. This is the first time I ever told my story and now I feel so numb inside.
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by Cindy
(Trinidad)
Revelation 12:11: And they overcame him by the blood of the lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death.
She was emotionally abused, sexually abused, and raped. She was only 7 years her dad had died. all she ever wanted was to be loved by family members. one by one her step brothers had their way with her. They would have oral sex with her and one would make her have oral sex with him. they finger her little by little untill they took her innocence from her, they touch her all over her body, they made her pose for them and one would watch margzine and news papper with naked woman and he made her try to pose like these woman in order for he to see the real thing in front of him. she didn't know what that salty stuff was that would go into her mouth she did not know why her stepbrothers were doing that to her. she just could not understand why? Don't let anyone know they say they made it look like a game. her mom had found out about one of them from her brother they left the house and went to rent somewhere not too far from where she was living. even though he left and the other was not living with her they both would still be around. she wanted to tell someone, but her mom had said, "what goes on in my house, stays in my house." and that her dad before he died hold a cutlass to cut off is head for trying to do the same thing with her big sis he had pull down her zip. her mom had said thouse things not knowing that this girl had aready become sexually active and she was now playing with herself when no one was around.
Sometimes this little girl she would go to her room alone and sit by herself an cry she would even ask God to send her dad back and if he can't send him back as an angel to look over her. her face was always sad knowing that her dad had died and her mom found pleasure in someone eles and did not had time to spend with her, she felt so alone an needed someone to call dad. if only there were some where she could just be in peace away from the cussing and things that was going on home.
She started secoundary school. she thought things would be good but what she did not know was she was still a child and needed someone to guide her true untill she was wise enough to do things on her own. her mom was not really around for her her sisters had left but still her mom kept telling her that she got a 1st cousien he is a principal of a school and she should go an look 4 him. the girl did not untill 1 day she did. this was alot for a 14 year old to take. she had already developed a split personality name cinderella she wanted to get rid of all the guys that were hurting this little girl, but cinderella told the little girl she couldn't operate in love. she was raped force into having sex with her mother 1st cousien he told her she was beautiful and sweet and he wanted a relishionship with her so the little girl thought she had nothing more to lose so she play it like a game just like when she was a little kid at that same time another man who the little girl mom had coming home by her he had his eyes on her untill he too got to play with her too he rape her. when she finish school she found out that she had gotten 2 cxc she was so ashame did not nowhere to go or who to talk with even though she had sisters however she trusted that her mother cousien wud make things right instead he did not it lead to step sister man he rape her. she became more stress and was now smoking, drinking, liming, playing around with other guys. day by day this girl prentended to be someone she was not she did say no to these man instead they took advantage of her they stole from her.
All she needed was to hear the little girl say ,"i hate u" to all the man that was hurting her. the little girl refuse. just say it cinderella would often tell the little girl not to worry ,God is good, one day things wud be great and everything in the dark will come to light.
Day by day this girl prentended to be someone she was not they made her feel worhless, without any value they humiliated her, crushing her diguity self worth, they ignor what matters to her, the treatning her they ask her to do unpleasant things told her to stay away from friends and family members untill she felt she had no freadom they was useing her for their personal advantage she was their sex slave.
After a few years, God had answerd her prays she had said no! And this time she did stand firm ,God have forgiving her she is now born again and God had send her the husband she had prayed for, someone who would love her for who she is an respect her, she can tell anything to him and he would do his best to put a smile on her face. ever since she had gotten her prays answered she thought it was over. like I said "she thought" only to find out that she had an s.t.d. Because of her past.
This girl cry an cry because she have been true alot so much that no one realy knows or could feel her pain but God and her husband. now because of pray, the grace of God and salvation this girl is now living s.t.d free she is now blossoming.
O lord my God, I cried unto thee and thou hast healed thee. Psalm 30:2.
P.S this little girl is me...
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by Libby
(United Kingdom )
I have never been abused, nothing bad as ever happend to me, but I have a friend and for a short amount of time she was being emotioaly abused. I do not wish to say her name, as she is now again happy; however I feel that I need to tell someone as I have been worried about her since then. Now let me remind you that this only lasted a weekend, and my friend is perfectly happy now.
She came to me one morning, scared out of her wits, she was worried about her step-dad. As all weekend he had been drinking away their money (as she put it) and whenever he was drink he would shout at her call her such horrid things that she could only mutter a few. He told her she was a wasted of human blood, a waste of time, she was unbelieveable hurt, as any one would be. Yet this led to her not wanting to be alone with him even when sober, he of course said sorry the moment he had remembered what he'd said,(or his wife reminded him). So one day she went down to her friends house, but of course someone had to pick her up, and it turned out to be her dad. The fact was he didn't crash but he smelled quite strongly of alcohol, such as she was having these awful images in her head, and she just was living in fear that they were going to crash, thankfully they didn't but her step-dad noticed her eyes were closed the whole drive home. Also she had been muttering what her mind could see happening though of course it never happend he saw the fear in he eyes when they finally got home. And he realised what he'd done and he swore to her that he would never abuse her emotions again,and he has stuck to this promise to this day and, well now she feels safe again
But she still lived in terror for a week still highly shaken, and I help her through. But all the time I never let on that I was appalled, by the way her mum stood by and let that happen, she told me shortly afterwards, was appalled with herself, and wished she could turn back time. She still regrets what she did but at least they are all happy now, but if anything ever happeneds to her again I will be the first to know. Though I'm pretty sure its stopped now.
XxX
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by Jennifer S
(California, USA)
Daddy's Little Princess:
In 5 or 6 years ago
I shouldn't left myself go
When I see tears in my eyes
I could hardly ever
heard enough
to cry
When I look at u
I feel betrayed
When I look at myself
my misery will never go away
I'll never forget the things
you put me through
All i heard is to blame
it on you
You could be good
You be bad
in those years i
wish you weren't my dad
Give me a good reason why
"Don't tell me a lie"
Oh!!!! How in those years
I wish you would die
In my mind was cover
When i discover for what u did
I was only just little kid
How you made my life Hell
But to my Mom, I was afraid to tell
What would she say?
What would she feel?
Could my pain ever be healed?
When i look at you
my life isn't the same
"So please stop playing games!!"
Oh!!! How I wish myself to fall
I hate the way you treating me like a doll
When I hear the open door
i have no coming to fear nomore
I know you’re just ahead
but till then at night
Why do u keep putting me in bed?
You always put your hands on me
I say to myself "Hey is this is a dream
or doesn't look at it's seem
Why!!!! Why you always on top of me
would i ever find a light?
so i can see
That you been taken my virginity
I'll never forget the things for what you done
In my childhood it isn't fun
Till things goes wrong
I say "Hey i'm still strong"
Even though i know this before
So yeah” I’m still the war”
Like I knowing how to defend
Until my world haven't end
I'll always have
My heart
My soul
My blood
For better yet the war had just begin
But for me I'm still a virgin
No matter what it takes
I'll always keep my faith
For something that goes wrong
in this world" I'll always be a Soldier Girl”
This is my poetry about my sexual abuse, I wrote this while i was in the foster care. I hope you all realize how hard it is to live that. :(
Thank you
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by Lily
(Location Undisclosed)
I was 15 years old when I went to Hawaii as an exchange student for a year. Everything was fine at first: I got lots of new friends, I was enjoying my experience. My host mom was a 63-year-old woman. She had no husband, no children. But she had a few exchange students before me. The last one who stayed with her asked to change his host family. I have no idea why I didn't pay any attention to that fact at first. Perhaps because she was really nice to me at first. I tried to repay her with the same good attitude. Our nice relationship lasted for 2 months. Then there was the first bad argument.
That evening I was finishing my homework. The last one was to draw a picture for art class. I was great fan of comic books back then, so I turned on my laptop in order to find a nice picture in the internet. When I found one and began to draw, my host mom walked in. When she saw the picture on the screen, she cursed and walked out of the room quickly, slamming the door. I followed after her, not understanding why she got that angry. I asked her "what's wrong?". She told me she was cooking dinner, and I didn't help her, 'cause I was watching cartoons. I tried to explain her she was wrong - and then she started shouting at me: "Don't you give me sh#t! Don't you ever dare f***ing lie to me!" I froze. She never raised her voice on me before. And now she was furious. She cursed and screamed and threw forks and knives on the floor, near my feet. Then she told me she's gonna tell my counselor they have to find a new host family for me because she doesn't need a liar in her house. Then she got into her car and drove away. I was so frightened! First thing is that I just cannot stand when people shout at me, and the second thing - I was afraid that my program will send me home if my host mom tells them I was bad. That would be a shame for me. I couldn't allow it to happen. So when my host mom came back and told me she will not tell anything to my program if I forget about our "little argument", I agreed immediately.
But then the arguments became more and more often. She cursed, called me dumb, stupid, ungrateful, screamed in my face. Once she punched a TV-set, close to my face with such force it fell. I became afraid of her. Sometimes she would just call me inside her room, making me stand there, near her bed, listening to her swearing at me. She never gave me an opportunity to defend myself. And I never could ask for help. Whenever I tried to give a hint about what is happening to me to my exchange student counselor, she defended my host mom. She has always been on her side, telling me I should be more flexible. I could tell nothing to my parents, 'cause they were in another country and were not able to help me. Besides, if they found out, they would try to take me home...but then I would feel myself a complete failure, a loser, which is not even able to live on her own for a year. I didn't want it - so I kept silent, telling them that everything is fine. I know that was wrong. Now I know. That foolish pride made me no good. I couldn't also ask my teachers or another adults for help. You see, first thing is that my host mom was a social leader. She was always into something. People respected her. Despite her age, there was not a single party, wedding or social event on the island to which she wasn't invited. No one would believe me. She was so friendly and helping to everyone else. Besides, she took me to all of these events, she took me on a trip to another island, she was always so nice to me in front of other people - if I would ever say a word about her emotionally abusing me, people would just blame me for being an ungrateful brat.
It wasn't just about arguments. It was about control. Physical and mental. I know it sounds weird, but that's how it was. She didn't allow me to go out with my friends, she always found a cause to keep me by her side. She never allowed me to bring my friends to the house. Couple of times I did - and then I had to regret it.
She always had plans. "You want to go to the movies? Oh, but you cannot! I booked a dinner for us and J--'s family. Sorry, you gotta cancel your meeting!" Yeah, who gives a damn that there is not a single person in J--'s family who is younger than fifty years old, and that the last time I managed to meet my friends not at school was two months ago.
She would never let me talk on the phone more than 15 minutes. It didn't depend on who was calling me. She demanded me talking on the phone in front of her. Whenever I went away to another room to talk there, she got upset...and made me even more upset after.
I did anything she wanted, trying to please her, but nothing ever worked. I got straight A's only. I was letting her know about everything I did. But, not depending on what I was doing or saying, every two weeks she found something to shout at me about.
One month before I had to leave I became absolutely desperate. My life literally turned into a nightmare. I felt myself worthless. I felt myself dependable. I suddenly realized that I can do nothing without thinking at first: "What would my host mom say about it?" It was horrible. I was so under her will I feel wrath every time I remember about it. She almost broke me.
But then there came the argument after which I couldn't hide my feelings anymore. I had to do TOEFL exam, so I prepared to it hard. I bought tickets to fly to another island with some other exchange students who were going to do this exam with me. A night before the exam my host mom called me to her room. I do not want to talk about that evening. Don't want to remember all the details. There was so much dirt poured on me and what for? Because I was going to take a taxi in order to get to test center. She told me that she would find lots of people on that island to get me there, because she has many friends, but because I'm a spoiled b**ch, who always does everything on her own, she gives up on me and that I can do sh#t as much as I want. Oh, did I forget to mention? There was a couple of her friends staying at her house that night. They were sleeping in the room next to my host mom's. They probably heard all the argument and even the thought about it was so humiliating I cannot tell.
I couldn't sleep that night. I just sat in a corner and thought about what a failure I am, 'till the very morning.
I did the TOEFL test. Then the girls took me shopping on the same island, because we had plenty of time before we had to go back. I had a terrible head ache throughout the day. When I arrived to my host mom's house, she called me to her room once again. She told me: "Rather then losing your time at the mall, you could switch your ticket in order for us to come to church together (we went there every Saturday, and during 12 months I'd been to the mall with my friends only for 3 times). But, I guess, I really have to give up on you. You're missing the boat, gal...". And that was the first time I talked back to her. I just couldn't stand her blaming me for doing everything wrong again. I told her she had no right to get me down like that and that she had no right to shout at me before such an important exam. I told her that I had a terrible headache, that I was not able to sleep. I told her I've been stressed out for the last 7 months. And she...apologized.
Last two weeks of my stay with her we had neutral relationship. Then I went to my country.
Now I am alright. I'm living with my real family and preparing to get into university. I am sure I will be an exchange student again. Perhaps even a several times, if I'm lucky. I regard myself as a success. But! It still hurts. The emotional abuse I've been through, lowered my self-esteem a lot. And though I never show it to other people, but I am not as self-confident as I used to be. I still cannot talk to anyone about my host mom - I spent a year in her house, so any bad words about her will show me as ungrateful person. Even my mom didn't believe me when I tried to tell her what happened. I had to speak up at the very beginning - and now there is no way to make people believe me or change something.
If you suffer from abuse, you have to find any possibility to stop it IMMEDIATELY. Don't wait, until it all will become even worse. Reviewing my experience, I realize now - I had to tell my parents, my friends, other adults about abuse without worrying about what will be their first thoughts. I had to be more strong-willed, I had not to be afraid to reach out for help. Perhaps if I would be more stubborn, even my exchange student counselor would help me. But...I was inexperienced, I was never abused before, I was young and away from my country and family. Now, I train my will, I learn to defend myself - and I know for sure, that I will never allow anyone to abuse me anymore.
Be self-confident! You are precious and valuable, whoever reads it, and you deserve the best. Don't be afraid to stand for yourself. If my story and advices will help anyone, my experience was not in vain.
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by John
(India)
This happened to my Best Friend: I have a friend we are very close n loving friends for about 3years ,we share all our worries and happiness…one day she stated crying when talking to me…later she told me the reason that she has a real pain n shame that she was sexually abused from when she was a child…She belongs to a Christian orthodox family she is not even allowed to watch television…Then at her home a guy became very close to their parents and they trusted him…one day when she was sleeping that is at the age of 12 that guy went to her bed and touched her body n abused her(that is all she told me and she told that she is still a virgin)…and this abuse continued for 4years…she couldn’t stop him because he used to tell her that if she doesn’t allow him to do it then it’s a sin. she dint know about what she was going through because she was very innocent and was afraid to tell her parents and when she came to know about she is being sexually abused for 4years she felt like its her mistake and she feels shame..That Guy is still in touch with her parents…whenever he meets her at house…She told to me that the Guy tells her that ‘she deserves it.’ And she also told me that she have gone through many sexual harassment is trains and Busses and also she is suffering from Irritable bowel syndrome (IBS)
I want to Help her…
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by Olivia
(Location Undisclosed)
I'm very confused at this time in my life and I don't know who to talk to. I'm not sure if I'm being verbally/psychologically abused but I think I might be. I'm 19 years old and at times I want to turn this person away from me forever but I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do. Here is my story:
I was adopted at birth. Ever since I can remember my adoptive mother has been putting me down, name-calling, controlling me, and hurting me in every means she can. She goes in extreme tirades, running around destroying my things, calling me terrible names, (Ugly, fat, b**ch, unlovable, etc.) threatening to kick me out, and screaming at the top of her lungs. Even sometimes saying she wished she hadn't adopted me. She follows me throughout everything I pursue, always the voice in the back of my head telling me I can't do something or telling me I messed up and why wasn't I as good as some of the other girls on stage. I found out she got a hold of my facebook and email account password and has been reading my private messages. She also steals my phone and reads my messages, telling me all the moms she knows does this but I've asked my friends and they all report that their parents do no such things. She insults my friends when I have them over to the point that I don't invite them over. She tells me I have no friends because I'm unlikable and she lost all her friends because of my existence.
She has been controlling my relationship with my boyfriend for over a year until I recently stood up for myself and broke it off. She would force me to take him out and pressured me into having sex with him, telling me he would break up with me if I didn't. She would lie to him and text him. I don't make much money so she controlled everything I got through him. She would tell me she would stop paying for my school and pull me out, that I would never see my friends again. She also takes my money often and doesn't allow me to spend it, sometimes even spending it herself. When she first found out I broke it off with the boy she went into a drunken rage, taking all my things and kicking me out of the house. She says no one will ever love me again and I'm not as pretty, talented, or intelligent as his new girlfriend. I've begged her not to talk about him or her but she refuses to stop.
She also wont allow me to major in College in the subject I wish to major in. It's difficult knowing she is controlling my entire future. But she makes threats to keep me around.
I'm not very close with my father and she tells me he isn't proud of me. It hurts so deeply to hear these things and it really digs down deep. Recently I've come to believe she's lying about what what father thinks of me. I have low self-esteem and I've confronted her about the way she treats me. She denies doing anything wrong and makes me feel guilty for saying anything. She's manipulative and plays with my emotions to get what she wants.
I've developed a slight eating disorder and she mocks me in front of my other family members and even sometimes my friends, it's humiliating. When I try to walk away from a fight she grows furious and chases after me. If not that she abandons me. I've been left in unfamiliar cities for several hours in the past.
I apologize this is so long, I just want you to have a fairly good idea of what is going on. There is a lot more in many cases, these are just some of the things I'm working through. I don't know if what she is doing wrong or if I'm just being over-sensitive.
Thank you.
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by Jenny
(Borneo)
Emotional Abuse:
I grew up in a big family. My orphan father is an introvert man who speak only few words when he is not drunk. When he is drunk, so much anger comes out. In fact, being drunk is the most way of getting his monster (anger) out. Sometimes he will hit mother or one of his kids. Sometimes in his drunkness he will look for knife or all sharp tools(therefore we have to hide everything that is sharp that is possible use to hurt). Sometimes, we have to sleep at other people house to avoid father when he is drunk. Looking at my old father now, i feel sorry. maybe providing big family put him so much in stress those years.But sometimes i feel angry.The feeling of being traumatized come and go even it happened 25 years ago.If the trauma was something physical, the effect would be as same as i am handicapped person. But I pray to God to give me a forgiving heart.
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by Kathy P
(Florida, USA)
i dont even know how to begin; i dont know how old i was when it started it just seems like it always happen to me as far as i could remember; it seems like a nightmare and as i get older it keeps coming back to me; knowing he is out going on with his life like nothing has happen he still talks to my one brother and my mom he has kids and grandkids he is successful but WHY WHY does he still get to act like there isnt anything wrong; this is killing me i think about it everyday and cant stop, but i remember when my mom found out that her husband was molesting me she found out by mistake...i just got home from running away me and my cousin and i thought everyone was sleeping so i told my cousin what has been going on well needless to say my mother was not sleeping she came out of the room and beat the crap out of me so my aunt pulled her off of me; then when she confronted him he would change the subject and asked my mother when was the last time she told me she loved me lol now that was a joke...well surprise she couldnt say it but hey that took the pressure off of him didnt it...i remember my mom having me take coffee to his room i use to wait till the last minute before i had to get up and get ready for school praying that i could just run out the door but right when my mom saw me she was like here take this to your dad i was like no im going to miss the bus and she would just hand me the coffee and make me go into the room where i knew he was going to be like when i walked in there... oh lets not forget the time that he got me and my brother drunk and we passed out i think i was 9 or so and when i woke up my mom and brother were leaving to go to my grandmas and leave me there alone so i ran out the door crying begging to go so since my aunt was there my mother couldnt say no...so it went well after that we all went there is so many times so many places so many stories of abuse i went threw with him and i dont know what to do it seems as if i get older the memories are more often.
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by Denise
(Maryland, USA)
40 years later and still being abused...
I was the youngest of 3 children. I would like to think that my experiences as a youngest child will help one to see the world through a "youngest childs" eyes. My abuse from the middle sibling began as early as I can remember...From being punched very hard in the stomach, so hard that I couldn't breathe to being hit in the head by her intentionally. She once intentionally kicked me in the back so hard to make me fall off of the top bunk of the bunkbed we had. I hit that tile floor with a big thud right on my head. I was the one who got the beating/belt for that while she sat there and laughed. I never have figured out why she felt she had to be so mean to me. I remember very vividly when my brother and sister stole money from my mothers purse and they blamed me for it. I think I was about 6 or 7 at the time this happened... I was given "the belt" and it hurt so bad. I cried all the while saying that "I didnt do it!" and then mom beat me even harder with the belt for "lying"...all the while the middle child had a smirk/half smile on her face, as she peered around the corner from the hall watching me get a beating with the belt. I will never forgive my sister for doing that to me. This went on all the time. The oldest and middle sibling would do something bad and blame me for it. I believe that this was the start of all of my behavior problems growing up that still effect me to this day. I had major behavioral problems in school,fights,acting up,smarting off to teachers,being suspended,etc,. I really hated school. I also started to vandalize other peoples property as well. Now as I look back, that seemed to be an outlet for my anger but I did not realise it back then. When I was in 1st grade, my parents were told that if they did NOT put me on Ritalin, then I would not be able to attend school. Back then the school could do that. I didn't even realise it, but even at that young age, I was already lashing out.
The oldest child was always getting into trouble, while the middle child stood out as a straight A student, and was one of the "popular and beautiful people". I think I resented her then. She was always hitting me, saying terrible things to me, and just generally being abusive in her own way. Of the few friends that I had, they always noticed how mean she was, like she had to go out of her way just to be mean. The oldest beat up on me quite regularly, but especially at mother's urging him on when she felt I was acting up or being too hard to handle. So, I continued to lash out at the world. I was forced to repeat 2 grades as a child, and that made me the target of some pretty cruel kids taunts and such. When the kids all said to me "You failed school?" "What is your mom and dad gonna say?" I replied "Nothing." I was correct. They didnt seem to care either way. Good for me. Like I really wanted yet one more beating. NOT! I was forced for my entire schooling to be in "resource/special education." They tested my IQ when I was about 11 or 12 and I scored a whopping 72! I read somewhere that a 72 was borderline mentally retarded. Yay for me!! I couldn't even do math in my head, as the numbers always got scrambled in my head, and they still do. The teachers all said I was learning disabled because of my behavior. Hmmn, bad behavior that was caused by trying to get even with an abusive if not psychotic family.
What has always bothered me to this day was when a "friend" of the oldest said that my dad was beating on me because he loved me! Yah, right!! I still have the mark/scar over my left eye where he beat the hell outta me for smarting off to a teacher. Like that was gonna do any good. I guess I was given a lot of "freedom" or call it neglect. I don't know which term to use on that one. I routinely went to school in filthy clothes, poor hygiene,and I really could not tell the difference between a clean appearance and a dirty disheveled one. One day a teacher actually did take me out in the hall and told me that I needed a shower...I did take a shower that morning, but I didn't have any shampoo, so my hair was filthy. Hey, all I knew was what I was taught by a mother that never wanted to be one. I remember mom telling me that if I wanted clean clothes then I had to wash them...On several ocassions,in 6th-7th grade, I wore wet clothes to school, cause I fell asleep the prior night, and had forgotten to put my clothes in the dryer. This happened a lot in junior high. I do remember the home economics teacher taking my windbreaker and washing it in the schools washing machine. I was always wearing jackets or some other heavy clothing to "hide" in, as I was "safe" in my little cocoon. We were living in the south, and there was really no need for heavy jackets in the summer, but I wore mine anyway. Even when I had to mow the lawn! That teacher had to force me to give up my windbreaker for a few hours. I felt very insecure when she took it from me. I NEEDED that jacket to hide in and be safe. Living in the south, we had a flea problem, and I will never forget the bus ride to school one day when a flea jumped off my head and onto the left side of my face. I just wanted to hide...within a few hours it was all over the school that I "had fleas". Mom didn't believe in having the house sprayed at all, which could have prevented that situation!
As far as parental involvement in my life/school, I routinely received failing grades in the classes where my parents were supposedly "required" to be in attendance for, such as plays, concerts,choir, and the dreaded PTA stuff. I was actually relieved that they didn't attend the PTA nights. I rarely did any homework, and dreaded every weekday that was a schoolday. On the days mom was supposed to carpool me and some other kids, she refused, so I had to walk to school, along with the other kids who mom was supposed to carpool as well. That really showed me that they cared...NOT!
Whenever I would tell my parents of an upcoming school activity, mother would routinely say "We're NOT going." That was it,END of discussion!
The oldest sibling died a few years ago. The middle sibling still treats me like garbage to this day. Not physically, but verbally. I have tried numerous times to be her friend, but to no avail. My stomach gets very ill whenever I have to be around her. Good thing its only once every 5 years or so. I am very glad that we do not live in the same town. Was this a totally dysfunctional family? Absolutely! Whenever I was fortunate enough to go stay with a friend for a week who lived like 60 miles away, I NEVER wanted to go home. I so wanted to be a part of her family. I really hated mine! In junior high, I routinely went without lunch, mom refused to make me a lunch, or give me lunch money, and I was always sooo hungry by lunchtime. I will never forget the pain of hunger. Because of that hunger, I always try to donate some food to the local food bank here every month.
As an adult, I have tried so many times to make peace with the middle sibling, and she still is very mean to me, at least verbally, as well as emotionally. I had a big blowup with the middle sibling a few years ago when I caught her in a lie. So, at this point, it seems like I will have a much better life if I avoid her at all costs! Seems like all she cares about is herself, and for some unknown reason, I get the impression that the middle child still thinks that life is still a popularity contest.
As I look back on all these events that shaped or more likely "warped" me for all time, I really do believe that what happens to a child will definitely affect them for the rest of their life.
I honestly don't believe that I was trying to cause problems, but rather that I was trying to make a stand for myself in response to the abuse from the siblings and the neglect.
So, in the end, life still goes on, and we all learn from those past life experiences, and we move on. Thanks for letting me tell my story.
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by Anonymous Male
(Location Undisclosed)
I'm not sure what happened to my real parents but as far as I know I'm an orphan. As far back as my memories go life has not been kind to me. When I was adopted I was raped/ molested by my adoptive father. It began when I was five and continued until I was eight. I didn't tell a single person until I was eighteen. I ran away from home when I was eight in hopes that I could take care of myself on the streets but it wasn't what I expected at all. Eventually it came down to me selling my body. You're probably wondering; what kind of sick f**k would want to have sex with an eight year old boy? Well you'd be surprised how many pedophiles there are out in our world.
Until I was seventeen I sold myself for money and most of my money was spent on drugs and alcohol. One day as I was getting out of a customer's car a cop car rolled up. I explained most of my situation to the cops (minus the molestation). I spent a night in jail as they determined what to do with me and it was decided that I was being sent to an orphanage.
When I turned eighteen I left the orphanage and soon enough found myself on the street again. Eventually I got a real job and I met the person I considered to be my best friend. But a year ago he died and since then I started back with drinking and drugs.
I don't know where to go or what to do any more. I don't want to go back to prostitution and I don't think my mind can handle it. I have nightmares about it, I used to call my friend and he'd calm me down but now I find myself dialing his number and getting nothing but a dial tone. I'm close to going insane, I feel like I'm slipping away. Whatever happiness I ever had is gone. I'm asking the question, does god hate me or does he simply not exist?
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by Monica
(Memphis, Tennessee, USA)
Well i have a stepson who is being abused by his mother she dops him off at my house and she nevers comes back to see him when he do comes over he doesnt want to eat,he always dirty looking,and he is 4 years old and his mom hasnt put him school.Now i have told my boyfriend to go get custody because his sons mother is abusing him. He acts as if he doesnt want to do it but if he doesnt take care of him the state will and i fel like it important that my voice gets heard about this issue and i hate to see this happen to my stepson because i love him so much. I don't know if i should report the mother because of her acts of abuse.
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by Cindy L
(Phoenix, Arizona, USA)
why me lord why?? i sufferd emotional and physical and sexual abuse for 19 years i am 21 right now i have lots of meories my mum hated me and only me she gave my sister Hannah all the love but all the hate to me i had to do the housework when i turned 4 is when she made me do it if i did it wrong she would spank me with a leather belt everytime i would do it wrong sometimes she would get bored then come to me and start yelling at me for like no reason she would thearten to kill me if i did not do what she said my mum and dad divorced when i was 5 i thought i would be safe visiting him but i was wrong one time i went to my room there and i lied down tring to go to sleep when he cam in and started rubbing and messaging me down there started kissing me everywhere litteraly everywhere though i went back to my mums place feeling as guilty as hell i started trembling when i would walk it was really hard to sit down and i started changing by myself my mum started doing more physiacal stuff to me like if did something "totally wrong" she would use the belt on my face at school i wore long sleeves and and wear a jacket with a hood to cover my belt marks my mum didnt make up exuces for the bruises i did lie to the teachers my so called friends witch i later learned talked about me behind my back i went to my dads place again the same thing happend expet worse he told me to get in the shower with him ( i was 9 my mum didnt want me to go there or else she said she would say he would tell on her) and started touching me down there only this time he was squeezing it for some reason and licking it he dried me off i told him that i could do it but he said no and mostly dried me off down there well he was arrested for 5 years because he was tring to hide cocaine and weed and a bottle of beer and some ciagrets i was forced to live with my mum until my dad was out then i would start to visit him again my mum started making me take cold baths started making me sleep on concrete outside and if she caught me sleeping on grass i would be forced to march naked around my house inculding outside and be forced to sleep on the cold concrete naked outside DHS did recieve reports but would usally say services not recommend when i turned 14 my dad was out of jail i had to go to his place 5 days later there he made me watch porn and told me innapriote jokes and told me id have good friends if i told those jokes which i did i got into all sorts of trouble from that when i came back from my dads i was called a worthless horny litttle sl*t burnt with ciagrets she would use me as if i was her ash tray when i was 18 i went to my dads again and im trembling as im typing this but he raped me i i was forced to stay on the bed naked he was naked then 3 hours later he got dressed and left i was shocked i lost my virginity to my dad ever since i was 13 i was slitting my wrists then it hit me i was on my computer when alyssa lies came on i cried but hid the tears i finally told my college teacher my parents are in jail for 17 years im soon to be married and im expeting my first child my life is a lot happier now but i can not get the memories out of my head
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by Olivia
(Location Undisclosed)
my mom split when i was like 2, my parents weren't married so i ended up living with my dad he soon married a woman called J--. it was hard for me to get used to her because i was only 3, she hid her drinking for a few years but then it got worse, she started to drink and drive. she also beat me. when i was 9 the mother of one of my friends caught on so she let me live with her for a while when J-- went to rehab and alchohilics anonomous. she'd stop and start drinking and got into an accident with me drunk driving. that was her 3rd or 4th dui and got threatened jail time if she did it again. so she finnally stopped drinking, but she soon started to abuse depression pills and she threatened to kill herself twice when i was fourteen. after nearly killing herself at least fifteen times by overdose she stopped her pills, when i was seventeen she stopped taking her pills but she needed them to calm her temper. she never did but she threatened to choke me and beat me. if she ever came close to hitting me again i'd run away, then come back when my dad got home. she still calls me to ask why i don't like her. i just turned 20 and don't ever talk to her but i still do worry she will kill herself. i guess the best thing to do is to get on with my life the best i can and learn from her mistakes. any body out there in fear, anger or pain should get help whether you are a minor (child) or an adult. and never forget LIVE STRONG i wear that wristband everyday.
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by Cassie
(Kentucky, USA)
Rapedd N Abbandend N Im STILL Here:
When I Was 6 I Startd Getting Raped By My Uncle Who Was Around 12 At The Time.. He Told Me If I didnt Keep Doing It He Wud Make My Little Brother(4) Or My Cuzzins (6) (4) I DIdnt Want Them To Go Threw Tht Cus I Knew How It Felt.. When It First Happend It Hurt So BAd N I Cryd Myself To Sleep For WEEKS! .. It Went ON For 3yrs.. N I Let It..I Still Blame Myself Evryday, Askin Y DId I Let it Happen Why DIdnt I Tell Or Stop It.. I Was 6.. N See I NEVER toldd neone.. i was SCARED, TERRIFIED Of WHat My Gpa Would THink.. My CUzzin Found Out WHen I Was 12 N He Tld.. After Tht I Was Abbanded By Everyone I Rli Lovedd.. I Felt Horrible n Degusted WIth Myself n Even After THerapy I Still DO.. I Take 5 SHowers A Day In BUrning Hot Water To CLean Myself Of WHat He Has Done.. I Also Wantd Sex I Dreamd Of It N Fanticized about it.. I Have An Amazing Bf Who Got Me Threw Alot,, Im NOw 16 I Have A Baby Gurll, She Is 7 Months. I Wud Kill FOr My Little Gurll ... I Dont Kno WHat I Wud Do If SOmeone EVER Touch My Baby ! To All The Other Girl N Guys..There Is Help OUt There... Get It.. Before Its To Late..
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by Ciarra (CiCi)
(Baltimore, Maryland, USA)
i am 11 years old and currently suffering from emotional and slight physical abuse.at the age of 9,i moved in with my mother this was the first time she raised me on her own along with my step father j-- and my newborn baby sister c--.every thing went smoothly for the first few weeks...i had a hard year in fourth grade,mostly with my peers but i got through the abuse didn't start until early fifth grade my mom got a dress for my aunt's wedding and i was build having bigger thighs but i;m not overwight and she called me fat and told me to loose weight i cried myself to sleep that night feeling worthless like i should get skinnier and starve myself...i am now suffering from anorexia from that situation.a little before that i was helping my mom carry back drinks at at football game i was forced to go to and i stopped to say hello to my sister.my mom turned red and got an evil look she screamed "get out of my way idiot"that was the first word she ever called me.just recently,my mom pushed me aganist a door and left red marks that lasted for weeks they looked like sunburns.she also got my strong step father to spank me until i bled for not listening to her.that same day,my mom called me stupid,metal,a"hole",shut the eff up,shut the "h" up,crazy,and threatned to cut my head off.i couldn't sleep for nights thinking id'e wake up dead she always calls me bad and horrible and a nightmare and a horror of a child and tells me i dress like a slut.she ignores my feelings and doesn't listen to how my school day went she puts down my goals in life she favors my sister and fights with j-- right in front of me and doesn't think about how that makes me feel.if i talk to her,just for a second,she sends me upstaris.i struggle in P.E. and math so i studied in math and improved and my mom doesn't know i feel like an idiot in P.E. and feel like i'll do something wrong,i tell her.but she never gives advice.i have to keep my feelings inside,i just can't take it.i talk to theropists but my mom tricks them to look like a wonderful parent.she says she'll take me to mcdonalds after this and in the car i tell her what i want and she never goes,ignores me and starts singing.she expects me to be perfect,if i leave the trashcan open,how i sit,etc.there is no proof i have any disorder my mom says i have...she says the way i act towards her is sinful but she's not christian...she hates god..she listens to comedy guys making fun of him even when me and c-- are in the room....but the thing is,i don't do anything,i dont get in fights,don't do drugs,dont set fires,dont dis-respect teachers,never called my mom a name or hit her,i'm so confused...thanks for reading...
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by Lexis T
(Texas, USA)
i never new my dad.my mom and i were best of friends. i could tell her anything she was my world.she started dating a girl. she was verbaly abusing me and emotionally.she wouldnt let me or my brothers or my mom se any of our family, we had to stay in the house. we couldnt go anywere she started telling me i sucked at sports and she was a coach so ofcourse i beleived her. sports were my life i had started playing basketball wen i was 5 n stopped wen i was 16 because of my moms new girlfriend.all the coaches from skool wanted me but i didnt want to play scared because i thought i sucked.she would tell me im worthless and im nothing n the family was better of without me. it hurt me soo bad. what hurt me the most is my mom never stood up for me she watched her break me apart.she never did a thing. the mom i loved the most i started to hate. i started cuting myself and started failing classes. i was at a medical magnet highschool all Az n wen that girl walked into my life i started failing all my classes. my mom was that girls puppet. anything she wanted my mom to do she was able to do. she took the computer phone away from all of us and drove over em n broke em. so we wuldnt contact any of our family. some days id ditch school and catch a ride to see my grandma. shed always get me a phone so i could somehow stay contacted with them.it was so hard for me.i started getting scared cause she started hitting my brotheres i had 3 brothers one sister 9,8,6,4 sister the youngest. shed hit them so bad. but she had one that she loved to hit. d-- he was 8. he was a lil slow not alot a tiny bit. but shed hit him so bad hed have bruises all over his back. id always try to stop her and id get hurt from it.i ran away from home 7 months ago. i havnt heard from any of them and im frighteneed i have dreams my brothers have been beaten to death. id take there pain id get hit everyday juss so they wouldnt have to feel the pain. i dnt want my brothers to grow up hating everyone cause of what happend im so scared and i dont understand why my mom wont leave her to protect her kids.i cry everynight in fear of what that woman does to my baby brothers. i wish there was a way i could juss see them and know there ok
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by Sarah K
(Los Angeles, USA)
I was seven years old, and he was my best friends older brother. He was only thirteen, but to a seven year old, he could have been the most powerful man on earth. I'll never forget all the things he did to me and made me do. And now that I'm 15, and in my first real relationship, he's come back to haunt me. I can barely kiss my boyfriend without being on the verge of a psychotic breakdown. All I can think about is what happened to that seven year old girl, and it makes me feel dirty. I feel shame. And I just want it to go away so I can be a normal teenager. But I'm not a normal teenager. I cannot forget. And I am at a loss of what to do. I don't know how can I have healthy thoughts towards intimacy when I learned to be terrified of it.
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by Lisa
(Ohio, USA)
Here it goes. I was never abused. Although i do remember many memories of my father beating my mother. He knocked her teeth down her throat, cheated on her, tried to run her over w/ a truck. One night she was so scared she grabbed me and my brother and ran the next street away and we hid on some strangers porch late at night, these wonderful people let us in to use their phone. What my father did, i will never ever forget! My mother is my best friend now, i tell her everything. As for my dad, i dont talk to him much, i kinda have forgiven him, which took a very long time! He always asks why i never come visit him, im not close w/ him and i still have so many memories of what he did to my wonderful mom! Which by the way is the most understanding, wonderful, caring woman you would ever meet! My dad was pretty evil back then and thanks to him, hes passed down his wonderful short temper to me and my brother! Ive calmed down since ive had children, but my brother, he is now going through what i once was. Can beat anyone that messes w/ him and has no worries of jail or anything else. He needs help and I cant help him:(
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by Finn
(Singapore)
Can I tell you something?
I am not a good person.
I am not clever at all.
I am worse than an animal.
I am just so ugly, right?
I can't even speak properly.
I am such a disgusting child to live with.
Nobody would miss me if I was gone.
I am so evil and sick,
so worthless and dumb.
So she has to hit me,
and ignore me to make my badness go away.
I really am useless.
She is right, I am a failure.
She plays these funny games with me
and all I do is get bruises and nightmares.
I deserve this.
Nobody does and will ever love me, stupid little girl.
Can I tell you something?
I don't want to go home today.
__________________________________________
I am emotionally abused. That poem was written last year. I am 15,and my mother emotionally abuses me every day.
My parents are divorced. My father lives some place else.
I don't wish my parents get back together, though. My father gave me a mental illness, and my mother made it worse by abusing me.
She has been swearing up and down since I was ten, telling me to go kill myself and picking my life apart as if I am old enough to handle everything she says.
Then she controls every single detail of my life as if I am 5.
Once, she brought me to a crowded park and made me sit at a bench. Then every few seconds she would tell me to sit, and stand, sit and stand back up again. She would sit there twirling her hair while she called me a stupid retard. She did that to me again when I was twelve because I had refused to wash her own dishes.
I tell her that I wish she would stop calling me incapable and slow. She screams at me that is perfectly normal and denies ever calling me that. She yells at me that everything I have heard her say to me never happened. She justifies all her actions. She argues with me, a teen, about who is supposed to let strange men into the house.
She lets my uncle lie on top of me and touch me each time we go to their house. He would lie on me and breathe heavily, or tickle me in my stomach, or grab me at my hips. She stands there and looks at him as he crushes my chest and shoulders.
Nobody listens to you. So sometimes I don't speak. And nobody notices.
I am to blame when the bills are too high, when my mother has had a bad day at work, when the television stops working, when she gets headaches. I am called a worthless unwanted child, somebody who should've been dumped at a mental hospital, a child who is uglier, stupider, smellier, more useless and less likely to succeed in life than other teenagers.
There is no food in the house. There hasn't been for a long time. My mother tried to strip me in front of my niegbours once. I hadn't been able to call her once I arrived home after school because my phone's battery was flat. She told me to choke on my food and suffocate because she was late to go to her sister's house.
My aunt told me she hated me once.
My mother has never apologised for the times she slapped and punched me, for when she yelled at me the night of my school dance, when she tells me I will never be as smart as her. She calls me a coward.
We never walk away fine after our childhood has been snatched away from us. I absolutely cannot look in mirrors or anything that shows my reflection anymore. It has become like, a fear.
Every person that has criticised or said something not nice to me becomes an enemy. I feel like my teachers, aunts, uncles and friends hate me because I am not perfect, and I don't make them happy. So I give them compliments and try to please them to make them like me. SO maybe they can help me.
Sometimes I cry at night.
It is hard to put into words exactly why you jerk away every time somebody reaches for you, or why you stop talking for days sometimes when you are chided, or why your lips look cracked and bloody every single day. Or why you don't believe those compliments that rarely come by, or why you do not ever, ever take photographs of yourself.
Why you can't speak properly, or why your eyes are permanently sad, ringed and sunken in or why you hate when adults frown at you, why the paralysing thoughts that they hate, dislike, are disgusted by you, come flooding in.
I am never 'me' in my dreams. I have a different face, charm, wit, but my life always comes back to ruin my daydreams. It is hard to believe you are more than an unwanted loser when you have that drilled into your head every single day since nine. I watch TV wondering if the TV people can take me away. But they would hate me too because I am everything my mother says I am.
My name is Finn. I am fifteen. I have a mental illness. I am a poet, and I like art and watching TV. I am only allowed to wear hand-me-downs. I like nachos, not vegetables. I cry at the sound of my voice. I like Hawaii Five O. So I never speak. I hate exercise. My mother ignores me for days on end. I love lasagne, but I don't have any cooking skills. Or a childhood. I'm also emotionally abused. And can I tell you something else? I think you are very nice to read my story. Thank you.
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by Anjelica
(Denmark)
Justice and Forgiveness???
Hi Darlene, thank you for your site. It has helped me put words my experience and how I felt/feel.
I've worked really hard to accept that the emotional, physical abuse and neglect was my fate - so I can move on - but what I don't get is that when I say to people I want them to know the consequences of what they did, I'm told "why, what are you going to get out of it-leave it be and move on".
But I feel that they are getting away with what they did - and that bothers me !!
I don't know how to cope with this feeling, I don't know how do to forgive something thats unforgivable.
best regards
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by Angie
(Ontario, Canada)
Out of the frying pan:
My 1st memories are of my sitter's shirt hitting my face. I can't breath. I know I'm going to die. He thrusts his penis down my throat again and again. My baby sister starts to cry in her crib upstairs. "Lil b***h" he mutters as he gets off me & heads upstairs to get her. He comes downstairs holding her & I shout "I'm telling my MOM!" He takes my baby sister & pushes her face into his chest. "You better not say anything or I'll kill her! Promise you'll keep it our little secret! OH look she's crying, she can't breathe." I promise. "What? What? I can't hear you!" I PROMISE!! He cradles my sister away from his chest just as my parents walk in the door. Whats going on in here? "Oh the baby's upset because Angela wouldn't behave & kept waking her up!" You march yourself straight to bed Missy, you know better than that! But. I don't want to hear another word from you! GET! I was 4-5 years old.
A few months later, we spent the night at another sitter's house. While there, her uncle raped her sister. We could hear the cries but no one said a word. The 3 girls who babysat us had been put in their uncles custody by CAS when their parents were deemed unfit. The girl we were sleeping with sang loudly & covered our ears to try to mask the noises from the next room but I knew what had happened because they talked about it the next day. They were worried what would happen if he got her pregnant because she was mentally challenged & related to him. He scared me. Years later my mother mentioned that everyone in the neighbourhood 'knew' that he was a dirty old man but that no one could prove it. I asked her why she let us sleep over there, she said she figured he wouldn't try anything if there were witnesses.
When I was 6. We moved to a new neighbourhood. My new friend J--- & I were practically inseparable. Being unpopular with our peers, we had no one else who understood what we were going through. I spent the night at her place one time & her 'uncle' came through her room, went into her sisters room & her sister started crying "I'm gonna give it to you nice & hard. You'll never forget it you little wh**e & you better not say anything either or I'll f***ing kill you." We could hear it through the wall. 'What's he doing?' Shhh just pretend you're asleep! He'll kill us! He comes out of her room with a big smile, what are you little wh**es looking at? Nothing! That's right & you better not say a word either or I'll f***ing kill you!
A few weeks later, he walks out of Mom's room 1st thing in the morn. Hello girls, I'm your new daddy. Big smile! Ya I just f***ed your mom like the little b***h she is! Hehehe you're next! I can't wait. Mom I don't like him. Oh you're just being dramatic, he's a good guy look at everything he's done for J----'s family! You don't like him because you think he's replacing your dad! I don't want to hear another word about it! I'm so glad my parents reconciled.
Walking to school through an alley from a friends house at lunch hour & a teen with a bat tells me to take off my clothes or else. He tells me to lie down & open my legs. I do as I'm told. He puts sticks & blades of long grass in me. What are you doing? I say. Seeing how far it goes in he says. The school bell rings. I'm going to be late I say. He says dont say anything. ok. Well you can get dressed & go now. He leaves. I get in trouble for being late to grade 1.
Later that year, we have an officer come & talk about good touch, bad touch. A classmate tearfully tells how someone is touching her. I say, me too. The cops decide that I'm just trying to get attention by copying my classmate. No one questions it.
When I'm 8, my cousins' grandfather offers to babysit for my parents so that they can have couple time. Trips to Marineland, Crystal Beach, Disneyland, pools, parks, museums, candy, stay up late as you want, cigarettes, alcohol, dirty movies! oops his hand slipped, oh i can't help myself you're just so beautiful, oh i love you so much, you're the only one, no one can know, its our secret, if you do _ I'll give you _ & then he tells me I'm old enough. He takes me to his bed & puts himself inside me. I panic. I tell him I have to go pee. He curses & lets me up. I run into the bathroom & lock the door. He begs & apologizes through the door, when he finally walks away, I unlock the door & leave. I spend the night sleeping in a mall on a bench. I stay away until right before I'm due back home. He's terrified. He tells me that he didnt mean to hurt me, he loves me so much & he'd go to jail if anyone ever found out what he did. No one loves me like he does he tells me. My church would reject me, my family would hate me. I have no one to tell. Who would care or believe me anyway? Months later, I'm sleeping in his bed with 3 other girls including my baby sister. I can't take another night of him touching me, my sister grabs my arm as he lifts her out of bed & takes him with her. I can see them, I know what he's doing to her. They leave me alone with him. Sis glares at me as she leaves. I didn't protect her. If he promises never to touch her again, I'll do whatever he wants. He calls up every few weeks & tells me to tell my parents I want to come over, if I say I don't want too he says Oh well I'll just get your sister/friend to come over instead. It was my place to be his play toy. It was my fault, I made him want me. I made him do it. He couldn't help himself. That's what he kept telling me. Years later, I found out that he had sexually assaulted girls from ages 8-16 for over 20 years before being caught.
He got cancer & my mom took me to the hospital to 'make peace' with him. He showed me his catheter, apologized for what he had done to me, grabbed my 'cute little boobies' & complained about how cruel the nurses were to him & how he wished he could put his 'thingy' in me one more time. My mother asked me if I wanted to come see him again before he died.
During my teens, I had sex with every guy who put the moves on me. People called me a sl*t. I hated myself. I hated them. They'd say they loved me but I'd dump them & hurt them before they could hurt me. I drank, attempted suicide a few times.
Finally I got in with a good counsellor. One day, a boyfriend asked me if I wanted to have sex with him. He kinda got the feeling like I wasn't really into it at all so he thought he should ask. I have a choice? I have a choice!!!!!!!!! I started to cry. People WANT THIS? It seemed inconceivable.
After over 10 years of counselling, I came to believe that as an empowered woman, I would never have to face the trauma that I went through during my childhood. I had survived the worst of it & come out on the other side. Life was better than it had ever been & then my husband's best friend (and my sister's ex) raped me. My husband, my mother and my sister back him to this day.
My husband's friend dragged it out in court & 2.5 years later the crown told me that the judge was throwing out all cases that had not been tried within a 2 year period for 'due process'. Not only would my rapist never have his day in court, he would never serve time for his crime.
Last year, my mother gave my first aggressor's family all of my contact info. She told them the 'horrible rumours' that I was spreading about him & offered to back him in court if he would have me charged with slander. His wife & son threatened me. I finally called the police & told the officer exactly what had happened all those years ago.
I've been diagnosed as having PTSD, Phobic Personality Disorder, Anxiety, & panic attacks but am currently considered in active recovery. My physical health is poor.
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by Maggie
(Ontario, Canada)
it started when i was 3 years old, my dad was an alcholic and was always at the bars, when he did come home he was drunk and never made any sense, there were times when he wouldnt come home at all. i was 3 years old when i started being physically abused and emotionally abused i was put down made fun of he called me a no good lazy b***rd, said i was never going to amount to anything no one was ever going to want me i was just a piece of yesterdays trash and he wished i was never born, day after day this is what I heard and day after day i started to believe it. when dinner wasnt on the table he would lose it if i didnt get him a beer or if it wasnt cold enough he would take a leather belt or switch to me and he didnt care where it hit i had bruises ontop of bruises and welts on top of welts and not just to my back side i had them on my arms legs face back too. i strted being seually abused at age 5 and every night he would come home fom the bar and end up in my room always said it was for my own good, that i was his special girl and i believe him, he said every little girl got that and it was ok. day after day after day this went on and i tried to tell people no one would listen no one cared. I never wanted to come home and when i did he was always waiting for me... day after day this went on from the time i was 5 till i was 15 years old.i got pregannat and lost the baby few weeks into it. the physicl abuse continued and so did the emotional abuse and every day i held my teddy in the corner of the room asking god to keep him away but evry time he came in and hurt me. at age 10 i starte cutting myself with a razor blade and i continued cutting well into adult hood because that was the only thing i knew. i was only a kid, i didnt know any better and even when i did i still couldnt tell anyone i went through school scared to say anything, with brusies on my self welts and cuts and no one cared i tried for so long to get someone to listen no one did and finially i just stopped caring. i believed what he said that no one cared. the constant put downs abuse, the sexual abus i was told it was my fault and i still to this day feel like it was if i had just did what he wanted and did it quicker maybe I would be worth something but I now have 3 kids a husband and I no longer cut I am working on gettin my life back together and I still feel it was my fault but im working on changin that... and knowing im not alone helps
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by Jennifer P
(Texas, USA)
I was born to a teenage mother (14) and a 21 year old father. Both my parents were addicted to drugs. I was often neglected due to the drug use. My mom was also often physically/mentally abused by my father. She finally left when I was 2. She then moved us in with a man 12 years older than herself. We were often without food, electricity or water. I was left by myself often for long periods of time. He would beat my mother in front of me. Sometimes until she was unconscious. He would "spank" me with belts,spatulas,paddles and anything else he could get hold of. He would beat me all over my behind, back, and legs. Sometimes until I would wet myself. And then Id get beat again because of wetting myself. When I was about 7 we became homeless. We stayed in dirty motels, with rooms/hot-tubs that could be rented by the hour. I was often left alone for long periods of time. When the little money we had ran out, we started living in a tent along side a river. I used the river water for eating, drinking and bathing. There was very little food, and what we had was to be shared. My mother and I have shared a can of green beans for dinner on several occasions! I was often hungry. The abuse/neglect continued until I was 10, when he was finally arrested for beating my mom.
When I was 13 I started dating a boy who was 15. I moved in with him at his parents house. He was very controling and he physically/verbally/sexually abused me for 2 years.
I am now 29, a mother and a wife to an amazing man...and trying my hardest to break the cycle of abuse!!
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by Marianna
(Pennsylvania, USA)
I was sexually abused from my father starting at the age of 4. I remember also, when we had to move into my fathers parents house being abused by my grandfather at a very young age. I remember him fondeling me on a day bed. Over the years I remember my father always finding a reason to punish me so he could come into my room and me wanting my dad to forgive for not turning out a light or doing the dishes as a young girl. I remember him touching me. Over the years he would touch me more and have me touch him.....I don't remember much after....when I learned as years past what he was doing was wrong, I began putting the dresser in front of my door or sweeper to prevent him from coming into my room.
When I was 16 my mother wanted me to marry to have me out of the house. I married at 16 to a teacher 7 yrs older then me. Lasted 2 yrs. I then remarried another man older then me and he abused me mentally, physically and sexually. I could not have children and learned I had scar tissue and damage in my fallopian tubes from being abused at such an early age. I married 4 times, all abusers. My first husband after the marriage ended, raped a 16 yr old student who became pregnant. He lost his teaching job. My father ended up in prison for 1 yr. because he then turned to family members. My second husband ended in divorce because of abuse which no one believed he was doing to me because his family was known in the area. He then remarried and abused her but because she had children the police were there for her. He ended up committing suicide. I could go on but it would take a book to fill in all the abuse and suffering throughout the years. But, now here I am in my 50's and happy in my own house which I work hard to keep and maintain. I could tell you more but to most it would be unbelievable so I will keep the rest to myself....
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by Cassidy S
(Delaware, USA)
I don't really remember much but i know some of what happened. When i turned six, i moved in with my dad, brother, and his wife(at the time). At first it was just a slap here and there. My brother was also getting abused. He is three years older than me and had been abused before i got there, but i dont know for how long. Anyways she never did anything when my dad was around. Soon it became worse and i ended up with bruises. She always told my dad i fell, or bumped into something. I didnt deny it because she had threatened to kill me and my brother. One day she and my dad were fighting, and he ran out of the house, she yelled my name because i was hiding in my room because of all the yelling. I didnt come out so she came in and dragged me out. This time the abuse was worse and she also hurt my brother. When i was about 7 or 8 i was in the second grade, and was having trouble learning. I also had to go to speech therapy. I was trying to get my work done before my dad came home otherwise when he wasnt around i would get hit. My brother was outside untangling our dog, because he had wrapped the leash around the porch. I wasnt having trouble and wouldnt sit still. The next thing i know i am being yelled and then she grabbed my arm and pulled me up so i was standing. She was still yelling at me and started twisting my arm. Soon i heard a pop and my arm was full of pain. She stopped yelling and said she was sorry. She had broken my arm but said i had tripped on some boxes. The lie had stuck, but i told my younger sister who lived with my birth mother. She believed me of course because even though we were only half related(by mother) we were born 18 months apart to the day and have a special connection like twins. Soon i started having stress seizures because of it. She once choked me so bad i almost died. She gave my brother a black eye just because he forgot something in the basement. IT kept getting worse, and once my dad found her choking my brother. He was furious, but didnt do anything. Since he had found out it kept getting worse. It didnt stop even when we were living in a friends yard in a half camper. But one day i was in class and my teacher noticed my bruises and asked me about it. I had started crying and told her what happened. She called social services and we were taken away and put into our mother's care. One thing i never did was get therapy for it. I was afraid of everyone after that and barely ate any food. Even now i am still afraid she will come back. She only went to jail for 4 months. I still have nightmares about her destroying my life again. She has left her mark on me because when i get angry or touch something soft, i get this urge to hurt it. But i dont i know from experience. Most people are surprised when i tell them what happened but them they start to pity me and i get mad about that. I also have rare moments when i can not control my nerves and scratch myself till i leave lots of red marks, but i dont want my mom and step-dad to worry so i hide them. Although i think it affected me more because i didnt have anyone to talk to, while my brother had his friends.
I am now turning 15 soon, it will be five years since then in October. I call myself Five-niner, meaning it has been five years since it stopped and nine years since it had begun. My brother is graduating this year and he made it. I am Cassidy and my brother is R--- and we are child abuse survivors, and this is our story.
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by Tarrah
(Maryland, USA)
I was 10 years old. You were in your 50's. I was 10 I loved my grandparents, my father always dropped me off at their house because he wanted to be with his girlfriend. She didn't like me, because I was the daughter. I was always daddy's little girl until she came along. My grandparents always took me, i would stay at there house every weekend i was supposed to be with my dad. I was to young to understand anything, or realize what was really going on. I would sleep in the middle of my grandparents at night, everynight we would watch forest gump; i am now completely scard from that movie. My grandmother would fall asleep. My grandfather would fall asleep (so i thought) id try to fall asleep. I would start to feel hands on my body, my grandfather touching me, i thought he was doing it in his sleep until i got a little older to realize he wasn't sleeping and nobody could do that in their sleep. He even went to the extent to put his mouth on my breasts. I would get up and go into the other room feeling uncomfortable. One day. It took me and my cousin to find a home video, we always loved playing around with the video camera. I found a video of me sound asleep with my shirt up, and underwear on (i always wore that to bed) someone video taping me sleeping. They got closer, pulled my underwear down and there was my bare vulva on a camera. I knew it was my grandfather, no questions asked. I took the video to my mom, i kept quiet when I was with my dad. I was afraid to tell him, but i wasn't afraid of my mom. I told my mom we tried to watch it so she could know what I was talking about. We took it to the police. And The skit was gone. I needed my proof. The proof was gone, completely. He denied it. Everyone stopped beleiving me, and I was lost and everything got ignored. My mom and her side of the family beleive me from this day, but nobody else... They don't know the pressure and emotional effect they put on a 12 year old and to grow up upon that. I hope one day, it will turn from scars to stars. Until then, i still have hope. I want my time to shine. To this day I was forced upon that family always getting disrespected when I would come around, and I knew leaving that time being around my grandfather I would have to hug him, or I would be disrespected and treated horribly. And I would dread thinking about leaving. I am not speaking to my father to this day, i am now 17. A very wise bright girl, i just hope my day comes soon.
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by Rosalie L
(Montana, USA)
I used to think who would listen, who would care? For as long as I can remember,We were beat (slapped ,punched,spanked,hair pulled) for no reason some times. One time my mother hit me so hard on my back my kidneys were bruised,I hurt so bad especially when i tried to pee.My mother took me to the doctor,she made me say I was playing and a neighbor boy hit me. I think though the worst times were when she would bring men home to sleep in the same bed. they would touch me, put they're fingers in me and I would lay there as still as possible with my eyes closed, just hoping and praying it would stop. I felt so dirty.After I became an adult I would lay there when I was making love and all I could think about was how could she not know they were doing those things to me?How could she not know where their hands were? Anyway back to my story,when I was about 6, this man (not the man from before) started babysitting.I put my sister closer to the wall, so he couldn't touch her,but he did anyway.I told my mother and she said she would take care of it. Imagine my horror when I came home one evening to find him sitting there. My mom told me he was babysitting.I began to cry, to act out in anger! She told me that when she told my father he said I was lying,that he didn't believe me! She began to beat me with a branch she broke off a rose bush.I had many cuts and scratches. Of course he cleaned me up,saying my parents didn't care, that he loved me.After that I never complained again. He would leave me money not to say anything.My mom thought "oh how nice,after all those mean things you said" Many more incidents happened but I think those early years pretty much shaped my life for many years to come.I grew up thinking I was pretty worthless, one day I did confront my father he said he never knew, my mom had never told him. I believe him because he cried then became very angry. Anyway it was too little too late.
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by J&E
(New Zealand)
i am 17 i have never realy rememberd my childhood now i no why when i was 5 till 8 my step brother playd with me i keept pushin him away bt he kept comin back for more he is 3 yeahs older then me i hardly see him now every time i would stay at my dads my step brother would be there hed watch me get undrest and jump in to my bed he ust to build huts out of the toys and cossins in the play room so dad and my step mum couldnt see i neva though any thing rong unlike he stuck it in me i told my step sister shes the same age as me she told me he done it to her just now have i rememberd all the things hes done i hate every bit of him for what hes done to me i cant stand to be around him noing what he did but i still cant tell anyone coz noone will believe me i just want to forget again the sleepless nights just noing it has made me a shy unstable teenager and i dont no wat to do
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by Kanila
(Hawai'i, USA)
I was born in Mexico, My parents divorced when I was around 3, I don't know what happened to my daddy, he never visited me, I lived with my mom.. She got married when I was 'bout 5years old, My step-dad always had a problem with me, he seemed to never like me, well, I always got hit by the belt all the time..but when I was around 6 or 7 years old, I had a friend that lived above my department so I went to her house, her name was let's just say Maria, she was always jealous of me because I had stuff sinse my mom's side had enough money, but her family wasn't really rich, she would always take my stuff and steal stuff from my house..when I was over her house we was playing with toys in her brother's room let's say his name was Marco. Marco was about 14 or 15 years old at that time, he wouldn't let me go back to my house he said I had to let him kiss me before I go back to my house, so I letted him on the cheek, then when I was gonna go he holded me back and said I can't go until I let him kiss me again, but this time he kissed me in the neck and then he started to touch me.. then after a while I knew I had to stand my own ground and just push him away so I did and just ran back to my house... He scared me.. anyways, everywhere I went there was guys giving me weird complements about looking ''sexy'' and stuff, and I never liked that sense of what happened to me before.. later on we moved to USA, I had to learn english sinse spanish was my first language we moved to Hawai'i, it's beautiful and so much different from where I use to live..most people here are kind and stuff like that..anyways,my mom already had a child from my step-dad, and ever sinse I've been nothing to them that's how Ifeel , my step-dad makes me feel bad, he always tells me how my sister is going to be successful and I'm not, just because I don't like playing sports.. I'm not so outgoing because of what happened to me.. but they don't know that.. and when I was in 8th grade about 13 years old, I had a boyfriend named.. let's just say his name was Jason.. well Jason and me broke-up because of drama later on he said if i wanted to cruise with him because he could cruise that day so i was happy because even though we weren't together anymore I still liked hiim and thought he probably would like me still so I went and thats when He forced me to have sex with him.. he raped me.. I didn't want to.. but he made me i was telling him to stop but he never.. and after that i starting cutting myself, and i burned my hand to, i still have it .. for the rest of my life, i also punch myself in the legs and i get bruses, my teachers ask me how i got them so i tell them something but not what has happened to me. Right now I'm going to go to freshman, I'm 14 years old.. and I'm sorry if my story is lame but i felt like I had to get it out off my chest... atm; my parents don't trust me with anything.. not even to hangout with my bf! i have another bf now, one that treats me right though, and I'm happy with him.. but i just don't know what to do.. sometimes I cry to myself, because I also have problems in school with learning, I don't get a lot of things, I feel like a failure at life.
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by Robert R
(Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA)
JD of South Philly, and has the last name that is the last name of mine! He now lives in Northeast Philadelphia, near Northeast High school and has another REAL son.
This a man That watched as his wife abused me physically and called me every name in the book. This a man that that watched his wife(my mother)chase me around a dining room table with a very large knife yelling "If I catch you I will kill you" Then this man, when asked by me to please stop this. His response being "What can I do" and this is not even the tip of the iceberg. He sat in a black recliner griping golf clubs that were taped together,to practice his golf grip,as leasurely as if they were complete quiet.
We are Jewish this a man thatstole my Bar Mitzvah money($1300),at age 13!That was a million dollars to me!
This a man that stole $18,000 from my uncle!
This a man that Forged my birth certificate,to get me into a baseball league, also at age 13!
This a man that has said something that is so unconscionable,one would think it could NOT be said...
This man said "We,meaning him and my mother,knew we were not good parents,we had youas practice for the next one(meaning their next child)! I do NOT believe my mother felt that way at all...Just another lie!
Finally a man that actually had such a cold heart,if you haven't realized that already, as to bad mouth my Grandparents. These people who were loved and cared for by not only their family but strangers alike. My grandparents were married for 65 years and never stopped holding hands. But this criminal JD is living in Philadelphia,who my grandparents needed help before they died,this criminal decided he needed to slam these people. Sayings things like They were just a pain in the ass and that if it wasn't for them Hislife would have been better and that they caused HIM Heartache. These people he bad mouthed were almost 90 years old!!! This man is also 100% responsible for my mother's physical abuse. I was there for all of it,I was the victim of all of it. WHO ELSE TO KNOW BEST!
My mother who,I will tell you,I reconciled with, at her death bed,was a physical abuser. But make No mistakeshe did this for even what I would consider good reason,although I NEVER will condone it. She hit me constantly,she called me every name in the book. Put me down whenever possible,called any women that I would talk to "whores" and called all my friends "Drug dealers and called everyone I knew something derogatory. They were very prejudice people so I wasn't allowed to have anyone Black or of color in the house.
Now also make no mistake I knew her and the criminal she was married to. He was manipulative,he was mentally abusive to her and in every way kept her as far down as possible. Keep in mind,This manipulative con artist,had easy prey in my mother. She was nothing more than a very naive,weak minded person and someone that had no social life whatsoever.Talkin about the deer in the headlights! Another quote by JD when I asked him ["Why are you still married to my mother" He said
"It's easier than getting a divorce" My Mother developed diabetes in her sixties. She was placed in the hospital when she developed a walking infection. We were placed in a room. Me,the criminal and the criminals son. We decided that her quality of life was not going to be enough and to let her pass on. She was on a ventilator and had one leg amputated and the other was next. I am sure this man reveled in her passing on. All this person wanted was to be left alone with his golf clubs in that black chair. Like I said,I reconciled with my mother and as bad as it was,I truly,understood the extreme dynamics involved. The family and the deception:
Appox. 11 years ago I received a phone call from Las Vegas. I thought it was my cousin. I was then told the last thing I would have ever thought I could be told. Her Mom, who was extremely close friends with my mother and thus, we called her Aunt had passed away. She went on to tell me(I had not talked to them in years) that her mother had a bedside confession. That JD that criminal who now needed to turn the knife in my back,was NOT MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER!All things came together quickly and what and why he did what he did was clear instantly. I wasn't his son, so why NOT use me as PRACTICE,at least in his pitiful little mind.
The family all knew. They also never told me until my mid forties. Not even when My grandmother and mother died did they tell me. So many that I trusted didn't or wouldn't tell me. They thought I would be too hurt and they also thought I would do harm to the "Criminal". This was a form of abuse one cannot describe. Some of these people KNEW of the abuse FIRST HAND. One night I called M---, someone dear to me, early in the morning, very early...and was hysterical and crying for his help. He did something that even I was surprised at. He hooked me up with a Psychologist in a 3-way conversation and stayed on the phone for a bit until the Doc asked him to go. HE DAMN WELL KNEW! There cowards,liars and more important did this to a family member that they shouldn't even be thinking of doing. But they thought of nothing. Like How this might affect me? Like How this might affect my Kids? How would it affect my relationship with my kids? How did affect how I WOULD HAVE HANDLED THE SITUATION,HAD I KNOWN ABOUT MY REAL DAD. And so many more ramifications,I cannot tell you. My real biological father was my Aunt's father. Making my Aunt my stepmother, and my cousin my sister. I knew him briefly. A soft spoken,seemingly great family man and just a nice guy. I would love to have this named changed to what there's is and having this name is a disgrace at best. That is my REAL name is the biological name of my REAL FATHER just spelled with all the letters silent!
Quickly My brother, or now actually my Half Brother now whom I called soon after I go the call. He didn't know.
I continue to lead my life though unaffected until when it comes up or I just have to write about it. I found this site and I just needed to tell the story.
One sidelight and last thing I will continue on. My brother asked me to make him a promise. he asked me never to tell the kids. He obviously knows what his father was and did admit that also to me on the phone and in a couple e-mails. I am going to have to compromise that promise,in a sense. THEY SHOULD KNOW. So I decided to do this story here and go to social sites,put that I have shared my story here and let THEM make their own decisions. I know they will see my comments on these websites. But there old enough to make there decisions on what they think about the absolute truth. Thank you so much for letting me write this. There are so many that have such problems and had to live with them forever. Some jump off bridges, some have to take medications,some just deal with it and some like me have dealt, not let this lead me by the nose, but NOW has to let this go. I hope it might help others and know this. The tail does NOT have to walk the Dog...You CAN take control....My heart goes out to those who could not bear the burden and to those who bear such a heavy burden that it not only accompanies them everywhere but it stops them completely of peace of mind.
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by Samantha W
(Philadelphia, USA)
When i was about 9 i was sexually abused for a week straight. My sisters friend would sleep over and i slept on the couch downstairs, he slept on the floor. I never told my family until last year, i am now 16. i still have trouble trusting men. he was in his 20's, i concidered him my big brother ! every night when he though i was asleep he would touch my chest, carress it, touch my vulva, try to make me go 'down' on him, etc. I was NEVER asleep ! everytime i 'woke up' he would say he was looking for the remote or something. in my pants though ? ! what a pathetic excuse ! i was scared and confused so i never told. you might ask why didnt i go sleep upstairs ? i did . he somehow became in the room that morning while i was sleeping and my mother at work . him and my sister were friends 2 years after that because she had no clue . one day though after about a week he stopped . my sister stopped being friends with him because he told her he had sex with her friend when he didnt . honestly he probably raped her . i have no clue . :/ he is still out there because i never took the action to get him arrested . my family asked me afterwards if i wanted to . i didnt know how to respond . i was too scared . my sister felt like it was her fault . she was hurt and felt extreamly bad and confused why i hadnt told her sooner . she still wants to do something about it . i dont know where he lives , i want to find out . i want him to feel the pain he put me through . i havent went to therapy because i dont trust anyone really except my few close friends and my boyfriend . to this day im stressed and have nightmares about that a**hole and the stuff he did to me . this is my story , a word of advice , if you are molested speak out ! tell an adult because you may not be as lucky as i was to get out of it alive . call the police or the rape hotline . they WILL help you . thank you
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by Samantha W
(Philadelphia, USA)
Theres something else ive had on my chest for a while and i can only talk to my boyfriend about ,. hes the only one i realy trust . well here it goes . . . last summer i walked upstairs cuz my sister was in the bathroom too long on the phone and i was wondering what she was doin . i see her on the bathroom floor with a needle in her leg , she was doing dope . she was DEAD ! not breathing , purple , the whole thing ! i ran downstairs screaming at the top of my lungs "CALL 911 ***** IS DEAD !" my mom was like what ? ! and my sisters boyfriend ran upstairs to see her and burst out in a panic attack . my mom and my other sister gave her cpr and she started breathing a lil . then the ambulance workers brought her back to life . this was the 2nd time in that year she died due to the same thing . to this day she STILL Shoots up dope :/ smh (shaking my head) ! now my mother , she started doing it too . she was on the program or clinic before to stop but she started back up . shes horrible when she is on it . i hate it ! they scare me by doing this dumb s**t ! theres really no point to it . they are losing all their loved ones one by one because they do not wish to be a part of a life like that . my other sister and my only nephew no longer talk to my mom at all and shes only 20 . my nephews 2 . also , my moms boyfriend beats her ! i remember last summer i walked in the house after being out with friends and went upstairs to use the bathroom ... what i seen almost made me faint ! my WHOLE sink , floor , mirror , and bathtub were COVERED in blood . my bathroom looked like a murder scene . what happened was he beat my moms head into the wall and she needed 6 staples ! he is in jail now for posession of a gun but gets out next month and shes still with him so im sure he wont stop his ways . another thing is when my sister and mom are intoxicated , they fight all the time ! in front of my friends , boyfriend , neighbors , they dont even care ! my sister beats her up during that time . my father always gets drunk too . my mom antagonizes him when shes f***ed up . she hits him and he tries not to hit her because hes not that type but she keeps pushin it . i called the cops on them once . the police just said if it happens again call them and they will both get put away . no help whatsoever ! all it did was scare them , weeks later the same stuff took place . im in fear one day they will all get too bad and kill themselves with the stuff they do or eachother . my mom and sister have been in FRIENDS mental hospital but no help . they just came home and did the same thing . i dont know what to do , i just needed to tell someone this because ive been holding it back for a while . :/
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Disclaimer: To the best of my knowledge the child abuse
stories on this site are true. While I cannot guarantee
this, I do try to balance the need for the submitter to be
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From Victim to Victory
a memoir
How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life
Jan 30, 18 01:13 PM
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