My Shrink said I should do this to help with my PTSD. Warning very graphic content, and very long
- July 19, 2008 at 1:21 PM by I_AM_A_SECRET
- 70 Comment(s)
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I have been writing this for months now. I have posted it in a few places with an alter cause I was never sure if I was going to share my whole life like this. I have shared my rapes and other shit I have done but not my story.
I was recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder along with PTSD. My shrink asked what I like to do and one of the things is write but since I became a mom I never really have time for it anymore. He suggested that I write about my own life. He said if I share it or not is up to me. I decided I would like to share it as I have pretty much most of my life in hopes to help others. So here it is warning the beginning deals with incest and it is very graphic.
This isn't finished it only goes till about 13 and a half.
Introduction
I don’t think I am interesting, and I don’t think most of it is anything to be proud of. I guess as I get older I start to think that the mistakes I make now have to do with all the things I did and were done to me in my childhoodI don’t know if anyone will ever have the chance to read this. Hell I don’t know if I will ever read this when it is done. So is it a journal of some sorts, or do I want one person to read it and see that they are not alone. I guess time will only tell. Most of my life has been pretty awful. From rape. molestation, alcoholism, gang violence, drugs, and yes incest.
I am hoping by getting this all out that maybe I can move on. Maybe I can fix the problems I have as an adult. Maybe it will be some form of healing. It could just be another one of my projects I start and never finish. Maybe the memories seeing them in front of my face as I write this will just be too much to deal with.
So I guess I should start with an introduction of myself. I am a 29 year old female. I was born in California, I have one child, and am married to whom I think/thought is the love of my life. So here is my story.
Early Childhood
So where do I begin. My earliest childhood memories is one of violence. My father was a drug addict. When I was 6 months old, my mother divorced him. Well she got stupid for a minute, and remarried him. I remember the house we had. I remember the night they were fighting, I remember looking at the window, and seeing my father’s fist come through it. I remember screaming from the blood on his hands. I remember mom grabbing me and running out the back door to the neighbor’s house. Hard to believe that my first memory is of something like this well welcome to my life. After this night my mom divorced him again, but got stupid one last time.
I was 4 and my father “got clean”, well he needed a place to stay so my mom let him come back temporarily , till he could find a place. I will never forget the month he was there. I was young but it still feels like yesterday (I know very over used expression). I remember my mom gang to work kissing me goodbye and saying be good for daddy. Little did I know that daddy had a different idea of what a good girl was supposed to do. I had my breakfast, and I carried my bowl to the sink. As I was walking I dropped the bowl of milk and spilled it all over me. Daddy came over and said it is ok sweetie, you can take a bath and we will get you all cleaned up. So he puts me in the tub, and I was playing with my Barbie, and daddy start to get undressed. I remember I was confused so I just looked at my Barbie. Daddy says I will come and play in the tub with you. I was young so I said ok, want to play with Barbie. She has a pretty bathing suit. Daddy says lets get washed up first. So he hands me the soap, and I get all washed. Next daddy says do you want to wash me? I say ok. I was young and had no clue. I remember it started as a game. Wash daddy’s ear, hand, arm, foot. Then daddy says can you wash down here for daddy. I remember feeling funny. I remember sticking my hand in the water with the soap and touching something that felt funny. I said no daddy I don’t like washing there. He says please honey it is too hard for daddy to do. Be my good little girl and help daddy. So I do it. He grabs my hand and says like this and I felt his penis in my hand. I felt him get his erection. I heard him moan in pleasure. I started to cry. Daddy I want to stop. He says ok. We get out, and he says don’t tell mommy of our game or we can play games together anymore. He dries me off standing in front of me naked, his penis still hard from the hand job he made his little girl give him. Sick bastard. He sees me looking and says give daddy a kiss. So I look up at him and he sticks his penis on my mouth. I cried again. He dries me off. I felt his finger touch between my legs, I cried more. I heard him say that’s my little girl, and he begins to fish what I started for him. I remember standing in the bathroom naked and cold. I remember my father coming on me. This went on for about a month. He never had sex with me, but thought me how to make daddy happy with my mouth and hands, and he use to like to touch me.
My own mother doesn’t know of this. I guess I was lucky, my father met a 15 year old girl who’s parent’s we drug addicts and basically let her go off with a 32 year old man. I guess one lees mouth to feed for them. That is another section of the story so I will go back to her.
I feel sick now writing that. My stomach is in knots. The only person I ever told about my father molesting me was my now husband, and I just told him my father molested me and that was it not like I went into detail like I just did. The memory is like a horror movie I have watched over and over and over again. I can’t stop it from invading my brain. I can’t stop the burning sensation I get in the pit of my stomach. I can’t stop the building up of pure rage and hatred I feel for the sick son of a bitch. I have wish my whole life the cocksucker died a slow painful death alone. I wish he contracted some nasty flesh eating disease. I hope his dick fell off at some point, but I doubt I could be so lucky. Maybe this is the reason why I don’t believe in god. I have prayed for these memories to go away. I prayed as a little girl to make daddy stop doing those things to me, and it never did.
So I guess I should move on to my next memory. I was 5 when I saw my father again. My mom had to take a trip out of town and had no one else to leave me with. I screamed and threw a temper tantrum said no mommy please don’t make me stay. My poor mom so upset that she had to do this to me. She didn’t know why I didn’t want to go. My father’s new house was in Victorville CA. He got me a dog named lady. A pretty Collie. I loved that dog. This is when I met Penny (the 15 year old girl I mentioned earlier). Well I found out I was going to be a big sister I was so excited.
The months went on and Penny finally had my brother Richard Fredrick Hildebrand III (I put his full name out there cause I am still looking for him) I was a big sister. I got to see him once before Penny split with him. I don’t know if he was put up for adoption or what but I am still looking for my baby brother. The last time I saw him was also the last time I saw my father. That made me happy.
So this brings me to about 6 years old. My mom lost her job. We lost everything. We literally did live in her car. She did the best she could. She did whatever it took to make sure I was fed (I do mean everything, now that I am older I can see that). I remember going to K marts with her and looking for receipts, so she would know what to steal and return for cash. We did this numerous times, just so we could get a cheap hotel room to clean up in. This went on for about a year, till mom met John.
He was a nice guy never yelled always smiling. I guess those are the ones you need to watch. He offered my mom a new life and he accepted me. So he got a job in Vegas and we went with him. Maybe this is the change we needed. It was good not sleeping in a car, and kind of nice having a male figure in my life who didn’t touch me in ways that made me cry.
Chapter 2
Las Vegas NV
Oh boy a new house, well ok apartment. This was what mom and I needed so we thought a change. Mom was back on her feet, working seemed happy. Things were good for about 3 months.
I was sound asleep, and I heard yelling. Mom and John were fighting. His was becoming a regular occurrence. I hear a crash and my mom scream. I got out to see he had thrown my mother up against the wall and was hitting her. I screamed stop, and he turned on me. He came at me and hit me so hard I passed out. I woke up to see strangers (paramedics) looking at me and my mother in hand cuffs. She stabbed john after he hit me. She didn’t kill the son of a bitch, but fucked him up pretty good. Luckily the officers were cool, and saw that it was obvious self defense. There was no charges ever filed, but we are on our own again.
We ended up in a women’s shelter that an officer gave my mom the info for. It was actually nice there. My mom still was working, but didn’t make shit for cash. While we were there my mom met a woman named Linda. They hit it off and became instant friends. I like Linda she always made me laugh she played games with me, read to me. Basically became mom #2 for me. Well Linda found a job and her and my mom found a place they could afford together. It was called the Steven’s Motel. What a fucking dump, but it was still better than a car.
Things were good here. The owners of the crack motel liked my mom and Linda so they cleaned rooms and stuff to get the rent lowered. I remember the water fights we had there in the summer loll. They were horrible. The floors would get so soaked, we had a level we scraped across the floor to push the water out. This was actually one of the best times of my childhood. Yea we were poorer than shit, but we were happy and surviving.
I remember one night getting ready for bed and hearing a bunch of sirens. Next thing we know we can hear the sound of a door being kicked in to rooms down. We watched through the window to see what was going on. Come to find out this places clientele was just so wonderful, we lived two rooms from a murderer.
Anyways back to Linda and my mom. Linda met a man named Barry a “green bean” (what we all called the air force guys at Nellis) He was a nice guy. She ended up moving in with him. SO here we go again mom and I alone. Mom was still working so it wasn’t to bad. We had the welfare and she worked around the hotel to keep the rent low. This were ok till one day my mom came home and said we had to leave. I found out later in life that it was cause the owner said she had to start sleeping with him or move. My mom choose move. So we went and lived with Linda and Barry they had a 2 bedroom apartment, and said we could have the other room.
These apartments were so nice. Things really turned around for us as well. Mom got a great job as a sports book writer and made really good money. We got our own place to stay in the apartment complex, and I loved my school. (oh I should mention some how my mom got me in school and I never went to kindergarten. I started school for the first time half way through first grade). It was right across the street. Things were better than good they were great!
Well as you can figure out if something gets better something bad happens. Mom got laid off a year later. We were back on the streets literally. We had no car or anything. Linda let us come back. So we move back in with them, but this time it wasn’t so good. She was pregnant and not happy. Mom hurried up and found a job at subway. We were planning on moving, but Barry found out he was being transferred to another base, so we took the apartment. Money was tight after all mom was just a regular employee at the subway, but she made it work for us, plus I didn’t have to change my school I liked so much!
So again we repeat this vicious cycle. After a year mom was a district manager for Subway. Money was rolling in. We got a brand new car. Something my mother never owner before. I had the best clothes, new shoes. Any toy I wanted I got. We had money we had food we had a place to live! Things for us finally got better and stayed better for years. Till mom was stressed all the time and started drinking and gambling.
Leroy
My mom met a man named Leroy (god I hate that name) he was an ok guy. He was in the air force, divorced and had 3 boys of his own. His oldest was Robbie. He was 15 and not right in the head. I know that now.
I didn’t really like Leroy. He always tried to be my father when all he was was my mother’s boyfriend. They dated for about a year. We would stay at his house sometimes. For the most part his kids would be at his x wifes house. A few times they would be at the house with them. The 2 youngest boys were younger than me. One was 5 and the other was 7. They were good kids, but like I said Robbie was different, and he had a thing for me. I remember getting ready to go to bed. I would stay in the extra bedroom when we slept over there. I was taking of my clothes and Robbie walked in. I had my top off. He stood there and stared and smiled at me I screamed for him to get out, and he did. Later that night I was sound asleep, I awoke to find him in bed naked with me. He started grabbing my breast asking me if I liked that. I said no. He got up and left. I never understood why he did that, but it wasn’t the last time I had an incident with him.
It was about a month later. I was asleep. I woke up to a sound in my room. It was Robbie again. He was jerking off watching me sleep. I told him to get out or I was gonna tell his father (something I should have done the first time, but my mom seemed so happy I didn’t want to ruin it for her. Again he left with out a word.
He never tried to touch me again, but he would always stare at me, and walk in on me when I would be changing. I think it would have escalated if Leroy hadn’t been transferred to Turkey.
Leroy asked my mom to marry him, and she said yes. The deal was he was gonna be in Turkey for 18 months then get stationed in Florida. My mom and I would go to Florida then and they would get married. I hated the thought of it. I didn’t want to live with Robbie, cause who knew what would have happened, and I didn’t like Leroy. Thankfully my mom called it off, and we never heard from him again
Summer 1990
So this is where things get worse. Yea like after everything else I have written it could get any worse, but it does.
I was growing up starting to notice boys a little. I was starting to get some independence, I was starting to get my own life. Yea what kind of life can I be getting at 12 years old. My mom had started drinking all the time. Got to the point I wouldn’t see her for days. She was a scary drunk. Not mean, but fully functional. She would go to work and go to the bar then go back to work. I thought for sure one day I was going to see the police coming to the house to tell me she was killed in a car accident from a DUI, but thank god it never happened. Since mom was never around I was left to fend for myself most of the time. I taught myself how to do laundry, cook, and would clean the house just so if a friend came over it was clean. Hell after all I was the only one living in it.
I was an early bloomer I guess you could say. I always looked much older than my age. I guess my life made me mature faster, cause no one ever believed me when I told them how old I really was, and it really wasn’t cause of my looks but I never had a real childhood, so I matured faster. At least that is what I think. I was 12 years old weighed about 110 lbs, was 5’2. I was a 34C bra at that age. Maybe that is the real reason no one ever thought I was so young, well the guys anyway. My best friend was in 9th grade. Honestly we were the only kids in he apt complex so we ended up friends, plus our parents were drinking buddies. You know the type same bar same stool, there for days yea that was my mom and her parents.
What does a child do with absolutely no adult supervision. Things no child should do, but who was around to stop me? So now I will take you into all the things I did in the summer before I started JHS
I had my very first crush his name was Turahn. He was friends and went to school with Rochelle my best friend. I told her I liked him, and her being a friend did the whole I know someone who likes you thing. Well we were just friends for about 2 months, till the night of the party.
Like I said I was 12 years old but most people thought I was 15, still a very young age now I look back on it. A friend was having a party. So what the hell I went. I got dressed in a pair of short shorts (maybe not a good choice, but hey I had no mom around to disapprove). It was getting late and Rochelle was getting tired. She wanted to leave and I wanted to stay. Rochelle was trying to be a good friend and stay with me, but I talked her into going home. I would be fine, so she decided to head out. Well after that everyone decided to play the good old fashion game spin the bottle. It came to my spin and yea you know it Turahn was there. I did my spin and yup it landed on him. We kissed I was so happy. My first kiss and it was my crush, couldn’t get better than that right. So as the night went on we had been kissing and talking, and stupid me went to another room with him. He wasn’t more I said no. He laughed at me. He said he knew I liked him and it was time to give it up. I cried and tried to fight him, he called for 2 of his friends. One of them I went to school with. We had been in the same class since 2ndgrade. I will never know why he never told anyone how old I was. I guess it didn’t really matter. Brandon (the one I went to school with) held my arms down while the other one held my one leg. Turahn started pulling off my shorts. I was still crying and trying to fight but was out numbered and out weighed. Finally I gave in just so his friends would leave. I laid there motionless till he was done. I got up and got dressed and never talked about it again.
The next day I tried to kill myself. I had a Razor, and I cut about 2 inches down my wrist, and I guess I chickened out. I still have the diagonal scar on my right wrist. I guess it is my reminder from that night. I still 17 and a half years later look at it and remember what I did. It wasn’t the last time I tried either.
After that incident I kinda kept to myself. Rochelle never knew what happened, I didn’t want her to feel bad for leaving me I never told anyone till I met my now husband.
Now that I am older I know that the rape by my father and Turahn, paved the way for the mistakes I made in my life. The boys, men, and things I did for acceptance and approval. Like I said I am not proud of the things I have done
After that rape I never could say no to a guy. I figured they would just take what they want anyways so what’s the point. So I will start at the beginning and tell about who I remember. Pretty sad at that age I was with so many people I can’t remember their names
I was sitting on the steps in front of my apartment when he walked by. His name was Sam. The new boy who moved in a week ago. It was the first time I ever saw him. He looked at me and smiled and said hi. I said hi back and we ended up sitting there for about 5 hours just talking. I really started to like him. He seemed to like me too. Later that night I was in my room. This was about 2a, and someone knocked on my window. It was Sam. I was curious as to why he was there so I opened it up. He was so sweet he just said he wanted to say goodnight. I laughed at him, then he asked if he could give me something. I said Ok sure why not, and he leaned in and kissed me. My first real kiss that wasn’t forced on me. The first time a guy asked if he could do something to me. I was in heaven, but I was also stupid at the same time.
Sam Never did anything to me I did let him do. We ended up the next night in his house, in his room. His parents were never around just like the rest of ours. Welcome to the Vegas life. We were making out, and he started trying to touch me, and I let him. I liked it. I wasn’t being forced I wasn’t fighting it, I just was letting it happen. We ended up having sex that night. Yea real nice I was 12 for my first non violent sexual experience. I think that is why I let it happen cause it wasn’t by force. I wanted to know what it was like to let someone do that. To allow the feeling of pleasure, and not pain, fear.
This went on for about a month. He never made me do anything I didn’t want to. He was always nice to me and always told me how pretty I was. Then He went to live with his mother, and I never saw him again. It hurt but I moved on
I realized after he left, that I did like sex, and that paved the way for the many men and guys I slept with from 12 to about age 14. In 2 years I managed to sleep with at least 70 guys. I am lucky I am not dead, or contracted some disease. I was playing Russian rulette, maybe I wanted to die
I had a partner in crime. Rochelle was quite the whore herself. She never met a guy she wanted to say no to, maybe that is why we were so close I don’t know. Well one night a guy she use to date came by and he had a friend with him. His name was Art (I know what the hell kinda name is that right) He was very hot. I was happy lol. We all went for a walk and ended up in the desert behind the apartment complex. We were sitting on these big rocks and Rochelle and her guy were on the other side. Art leaned over and kissed me, and that lasted for about 30 minutes or so. Next thing I know I am up against the rock having sex with him. I wasn’t the onlt one Rochelle was on the other side doing the same thing. I only spoke to Art once after that night.
The next set of guys there was no one special. Brady was a friend of a friend, Greg was a guy I met at a party, Mike, Dave, Ryan, and a few others I don’t remember. This leads me to Shawn
Shawn was the guy all the girls wanted, and I had him, but I should have let him go. Shawn was a Crip. Donna Street Crips. He was the one that introduced me to that life. Not many young white girls got to hang with the bangers, but for some reason they accepted me, matter of fact I was the only one. We were at a party just hangin out, and by this time I was just friends with all of them. Shawn and I go and do our thing and afterwards he says they want to jump me in. Here I was thinking I was this hard ass I went for it. My life was never the same after that. I was a member for life till death right. Little did I know how close I would come to it.
Gang life was the best. No one dared give me shit, and I had what I though friends, my family since I never had any. One night we were all hanging out and a guy named LC wanted to go start some shit. A few of them went along, and I stayed behind. There was this bar by my house the runway21. He went there and asked some guy for a ride. He had every intent of robbing him, but instead he robbed him and slit his throat. Little did I know this was a friend of my mom’s.
I remember my mother coming home and telling me what happen. She was always so trashed she had no clue I was bangin. I played dumb, but I knew who it was. I never dared rat him out, cause everyone knew his rep. He was fucking crazy. LC didn’t kill that guy but, it made me start to realize the mistake I made.
7th Grade
So much happened at this time my mother met a man, and finally remarried. He was a good guy never did funny things to me acted like he cared. Treated my mom with respect (litereally kissed the ground she walked on). His name is Greg he was the bartender of my mom’s watering hole. Kinda of a nerd, but him and my mom are still together and he is a wonderful man. I may not have liked him when they were first married, but I now know he is my one and only father.
Jim Bridger JHS. This school was in the heart of N. Las Vegas. It was a shit school, but all my friends were there. I tried to keep distance from my crew, but also tried to make it like I wasn’t dissing them. I made a new friend named Dawn. She knew about me, and still wanted to be my friend. Most people were scared of me, cause of my friends, but she didn’t let it bother her.
Dawn and I were inseparable. She was my best friend. The one person I knew I could trust with my secrets, and I had many. She listen to my stupidity when I would sleep with some random guy. She stayed with me when I would get drunk and want to hurt myself. She would make sure I didn’t overdose from all the drugs I was doing she was a friend a true friend.
Even with Dawn being there for me, I still felt the need to find comfort with random guys. I can’t even remember how many I slep with that year. The youngest was 16 and the olest was 27. I slept with friends boyfriends, or guys my friends liked. I was the neighborhood hoe pretty much, but in some odd way at that time it made me feel good to have all the guys want me. To have them all pay attention to me. In a sick twisted way it boosted my self esteem high, not like how most peole say if you do those types of things you must have low self esteem. Not me I was loving life and having fun. Too bad I was still a baby.
It was hard that year trying to keep my distance from the gangs, but I managed to keep myself off their radar. Dawn eventually was accepted by them. She was never a banger (not jumped in) but she was allowed to hang with us. That helped me to have her there. She always had a way of keeping my ass out of serious trouble.
I managed to make it through the school year. I didn’t fail. It was summer and little did I know my life was about to change in a major way.
On night my stepfather was waiting for my mom to close up the restaurant that was attached to the bar they hung out at. She was done and she went and planted her ass on her usual barstool and had her rum and coke I am sure. # guys walked in with 12 gauge shotguns. It was a robbery. They ordered everyone on the ground. After robing the bar one of the decided to fire a warning shot, but instead of firing the shot in the air they fired it into the ground by my mom and step father’s head. My stepfather was on my mom tryong to protect her. He looked up right as the shot was fired. All of the buckshot went into his face. Some in the top of my mother’s skull, but he got it the worse. The docs said if it wasn’t for his glasses he would have lost his eye’s. He was ok, but this happened 16 years ago and he still has pieces of metal in his face.
After this my parents said we were leaving Las Vegas. I was pissed. I hated them. How could they try to act like parents now and want to straighten up. How could they drag me away from my friends. Who in the hell were they to try to care about me then.
- Written by I_AM_A_SECRET on July 19, 2008 at 1:21 PM
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Comments:
It is very brave of you to write this and share parts of your life that were, frankly, horrific. I hope by writing the words down that it takes the power away from the shitheads who harmed you growing up. I also hope in time that you can forgive those people for their sickness and grow from doing so.
I, too, was molested at an early age by a family member. My uncle as a matter of fact. It took me a long time to realize that I always tried to get approval and acceptance with men through sex. I'm also surprised I didn't get a disease or die from some of the situations I put myself into. I have forgiven myself for the mistakes I made because I know now I was acting upon impulses that stemmed from what happened to me in my childhood. This has been a very long and hard process for me.
I wish you all the best.
I love ya baby girl!
What an amazing story. I cannot and will not say that I know how you feel because I don't to an extent but I could not stop reading. I have had some bad things happen to me in my childhood and early adulthood that have made me do stupid things for acceptance. It is amazing how people can have so much pain in their lives and still are able to carry on and stand above it. I would like to follow your story if you don't mind. Can I add you as a friend? Stay strong.
I agree with the other poster. This would make a good book not only for your healing but to show other women out there that what happened to you and what may be happening to them is wrong. I wish we could put all these child molesters that take away childrens innocence on a deserted island and make them live together. Lets see how long they last.
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beethann Jul. 19, 2008 at 2:21 PM