new here, want to share (warning, this is a little sad)

[djemMama0725]

Ok, some background info on this piece.  I was molested by my step-father for 5 years, from the time I was 13.  These "journal entries" as I am calling them are reflecting different periods of time during the years that the abuse took place. I have been slowly recovering for a good 7 years, and just want to share my story with others. Sorry if it is to vivid or upsetting for some.......

there is no title yet.....I am just starting this.....

Smack!  The force of the blow to the side of my head was almost deafening. My ears rang and stung so bad I thought I might faint from the combination of the headache you get from sobbing for long periods and that single strike. His eyes were fixed on me, translucent in the light of the sun on that Mid-July afternoon. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere I could have gone to escape the storm that was coming my way. I knew what he was thinking, and he knew I knew, there was no way to get around it, unless of course I wanted to break my mothers heart.

I thought, for a moment, to tell her. She was already angry enough, hurt enough by my actions during the previous months, what difference would it make now? He glared at me, knowing what I was thinking, and giving me a silent warning that there would be hell to pay if I wimpered one word of what was about to come my way. I stood there, for minutes that seemed to go on for hours, watching my mother pace back and forth across Danny's yard. She was trying to calm herself. Thats what she does, she paces. She looks up, she looks down. She stops, folds her arms and takes a long drag off of her dwindling cigarette. I always loved watching her smoke, fluid motions that gave her some sort of comfort in her already painful life. She had been through a lot, my mother. Abused by her father, raising her brother when her alchoholic mother could not, being tormented in high school, giving birth to me and almost dying, giving birth to my brother and giving him up. Then she married this asshole. She never got to be "Maggie". Hell, I dont even think she ever knew who Maggie was. Maggie, as far as she knew, was a distant memory, now, she was just his wife. She had begun to think about leaving him, but was too scared to be alone. She stuck it out, through all the bad times, when he was "too sick" or "in too much pain" to work. Mommy would carry the load, until she wasnt "allowed" to work anymore because she made him feel inferior. That was how it went.

"Go get your shit out of the van..." she mumbled to me, though I could barely hear through my still ringing ear, I understood. I walked down the long driveway next to that old farmhouse. The hot country air smelled of that days manure. Pig. I hate pig manure. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my already elevating dry heaves and sobs. My face was sticky from the tears, my lips tasted of salt, and my head was throbbing so bad I couldnt even think, nor notice him standing beside the door of the van until I turned around. He stared at me with a smug look on his face. I knew all to well what was coming. " So you little slut, now that you like to have sex, theres a few things we need to work out. If you want your life to be the way it was before this, you will do what I say. If not, its over. No dances, no money, no friends, no internet, you will be a prisoner to say the least. And, I tell your mother everything." By this point I was shaking with fear as he came closer to my ear, the same sore ear that he hit earlier. I could smell his hot breath as he whispered every detail of what he had just told me. He smelled so disgusting. He literally disgusted me, it was repulsive. His breath smelled of cigarettes, that combined with the smell of the manure and the headache, was enough to make me vomit. I quickly turned away and let the remains of the Arbys roast beef sandwich I had eaten loose onto the grass. Heaving and gasping for air, I cried harder than I had cried all day. "BRETT!!! Leave her alone, the poor girl has had enough for today. She had sex with her boyfriend, its not like she killed anybody." Danny came to my rescue, as he had done many times in the past when I had gotten myself into trouble. "She is staying here tonight with me and Jenny and the boys. You go home, relax. We will talk with her, then you can pick her up tomorrow afternoon." I was still sobbing, as Danny picked me up off the ground and led me into the solace of that farmhouse. I was safe, at least for now.

[kailu1835]

First of all, I want to tell you how sorry I am for your childhood years.  I wish I could magically go back in time and wipe that part clean.  Barring that, I am glad you are sharing your experience.  I hope you get some healing power from doing so.  I would not change anything about what you've written so far.  It's raw, it's real.

[djemMama0725]

thank you so much!

[willmrcd1]

First of all thank you for sharing your writing and experience with us.  I pray that through your writing (voice) you will indeed find peace and healing.  I agree I would not change not one single word.

Your story is one that must be heard.  Keep on writing!

[DesignGirl450]

Your writing is good, and it didn't make me mad, it made me angry.  I can't begin to imagine what you went through because of that evil, screwed up man.  Was he ever charged with anything?  I hope so.

Keep up your writing, it can be cathartic to put it on paper.  BTW, your children look lovely.

Best wishes

Lynda

[SusanArlene]

Journaling is very good therapy.  I, too, was sexually molested when I was very young.  Granted, I was only three years old and have no memory of it.  My mother walked in on my dad and me.  She left him immediately to protect me.  Had she not walked in on us, I am sure I would have endured a lot more abuse. 

Recently, I gave a speech at a ladies retreat on journaling as a therapeutic tool.  These women had been abused as children themselves, whether mentally, physically, or sexually and the retreat was extremely emotional for a lot of reasons.  There are a lot of hurting women out there.  Journaling helps them cope. 

I agree with the others.  I wouldn't change a thing.  This is your voice coming out.  And your voice is real. 

 

[Michellesays]

Wow! From the first words of your journal entry I was hooked.  This excerpt is so compelling I think the whole story should be published so that other women who have been through the same pain - or young girls going through it right now - can read it and be encouraged.  God has given you a gift to write, I hope He will also give you the courage to share it with others. 

[caljones]

i agree with michelle wholeheartedly on everything she said.