NEW Update!! My Story-Just Figured I Would Let Some of You in on Why I'm Weird-for mature readers
ok, for some reason I have a lot of gaps in my memory. I was in a coma for 6 months and I used to have blackouts before that. I only remember bad stuff which is probably why I have manic depression and bi polar disorder. Here is my beginning as I remember it. I cant remember before 5, so it starts there. I was 5 and we had moved to Germany. My father was in the Army at the time and we moved a lot. It was my 5th birthday party. It was a happy and normal party. The only thing I remember is getting a doll that I named rizzo from 'Grease'. After the party my mom said I needed to take a nap. I asked my brother (or bubby as I called him at the time) to lay by me. I was laying there talking about my party and I felt him rub his penis against my butt. I didn't even know what it was. I asked him what he was doing and he just stopped and said "I was just playing". The next event I remember was when I was 11 and we lived in Topeka Kansas. My sister was born then and was a baby. My dad was stationed in Ft. Polk. I remember waking up one night in my room with my brother on top of me. My pants were still on, but he was rubbing back and forth. I pushed him and whispered "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He just silently got off of me and went back to his room. Next thing I remember is being 13 and living in Coal Hill Arkansas. One night my cousin spent the night with us. My brother charged him 5 bucks to watch him take off my clothes, hold me down and rub against me. My cousin tried to tell my mom afterwards, but she said to be quiet and she didn't want to hear anything about us being silly. I know she knew now, she later told me that her father and brother raped her, so it wasn't a big deal. Later that year, we moved into a trailer out in the country. I hated moving there because there werent any neighbors. My brother actually raped me for the first time while we lived here. After living here a few months, my father said he had heard that my brother called my mom a whore. My brother never said that. He is and I think always will be very loyal to my mom for some reason. Anyway, my father dragged my brother by the hair out into the yard. He said to fight him. My brother and I were terrified of our father, so my brother didn't do anything, but try to ward off blows. After my dad got tired, he went in to bed and left my brother lying in the yard, bloody and bruised. My mom silently followed my dad into the house. I helped my brother get into the house and laid him in his bed and then went to bed myself. Sometime during the night, my brother ran away. The next morning I was woken up by my mom shaking me and asking frantically "have you seen your brother?" I jumped up and said no. I knew he had run away. All the other times my dad would beat him, he would try to run away and I always screamed or something that stopped him. My dad had never hit me up to that point, but I just knew if my brother left me, something bad would happen. My father was laughing and joking. My brother had run away to my grandma's (my dad's mom). As I remember she hated my dad because she didn't know who his dad was and his brother had raped him and other things I only heard bits and pieces of while growing up. The next year was a long string of court dates and other things because my parents had to live down a child abuse charge. I started getting hit and threatened if I told about my dad beating my brother. At 15, we lived in Knoxville Arkansas and my father was out of the military. I got my first boyfriend. I was sure it was true love. I got to go to his house for dinner one night and made the mistake of getting home 30 seconds late. My father threw me into the wall, called me a whore and kicked me. I had that boyfriend until I was 18. I cheated twice. I was stupid and always looking for love. My parents told me everyday that they saw him somewhere making out with another girl. They told me he hated me. I skipped school almost everyday and went to see him. I would ride the bus to school and just walk off campus and he was a dropout. One day, he was dropping me off at work after school and we saw my parents' jeep in the driveway. We immediately drive off and like my brother I ran away.
Since my bf at the time lived down the street from my parents, I moved into a male friend's house. It was so fun! I felt so free! No one yelled at me, called me a whore, or ever hit me. I cooked dinner every night and played paintball, slept and went to school. One day, I don't remember this day at all; I only piece it together after what people told me, I needed to get to school. My bf didn't want to get up and drive me. so although I didn't have a license or really know how to drive (my parents wouldn't let me) I took my bf's car and tried to drive myself. Apparently I was turning a curve, got distracted and lost control of the car. I flipped 4 times over a fence beside the road. I was flown to the a hospital a few towns over. I died twice in the helicopter. I was in a coma for about 6 months. I was told the hospital I was in kept giving me morphine and I couldn't wake up because of it. I got trasferred to another hospital closer to my house. My bf came everyday, even though my parents forbid it. He snuck in everyday. One day, he was talking and telling me to wake up and I did. Everything was so strange. I was so happy to see my family and couldn't remember what they had done to me and my brother. I eventually got to go home. I was supposed to go to outpatient therapy, but the insurance wouldn't cover anymore and my parents would have to pay out of pocket, so I never got to go. I still can't walk very well. My neck was broke and 2 vertabrae in my back broke. After I got home, it started again. I was not allowed to see my bf. My dad started yelling and hitting me again, even though I was in a neck brace and wasn't supposed to be moved a lot while it healed. My brother started coming around again. He was a man now, so my dad was too scared to touch him. My brother's gf got pregnant and had a little girl. My brother nor his gf wanted her, so my parents adopted her and I took care of her. My mom watched her during the day. She didn't feed or change her, just made sure she didn't die. I went to school in the day and took care of newborn all night. I wouldn't have wished it different though because I loved her and she is now named after me. Everytime my brother was at the house, he raped me. I threw a brick at his knee and shattered it once. My mom beat me for that one. The good news was that I was a good (or good enough) student and got a scholarship to college. I was ecstatic to get away. However, I couldn't bring my baby with me. I left her there for which I will always be guilty of. I did tell a friend at DHS to help watch over her and she did weekly surprise visits on my parents. May not be legal, but my parents are stupid and it was a little town in Arkansas, so nobody cared. Ok I am crying and feeling sooo guilty right now, I know I deserve to, but I need to take a breather.