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My Child Abuse Story (may be a bit much for some)
- Oct 15, 2010 at 4:35 PM
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- Comments (21) Total Views (2440) Everyone can see this journal post.
When I was a child I was abused. It started when I was in the third grade, and ended half way through my sixth grade year.
From Left to Right: My Mom (pregnant with my little brother Tali) Susanna, Me, and Kiki
This is my first journal. I don't know why I feel compelled to write it today. But it has been there for a short while, brewing at the back of my mind. Maybe it's because my daughter has just turned two, and screams like the world is about to end every time I tell her no, or because I am feeling nostalgic. I'm not sure. But I feel like I need to get it out, maybe so it isn't this big secret about me anymore.
The day before we left for Panama. Left to Right: Mom, Step-Dad Jeff, Great Great Grandpa, Great Great Grandma, me, Kiki, step-sister Crystal, and Susanna. Grandma is behind the camera holding Tali.
I would run around the house untying my shoes over and over and over, and every time my mom would come up to me and click her tounge and go "How on earth did the come undone again?" I would start giggling every time, as I tried to peer over her hands to see how she made that magical bow knot. We lived in Panama then, on base. There are only two seasons in panama; fall and spring. The backyard was always filled with leaf piles. My sisters and I would take these flying leaps into them and watch as the gold, red and yellow bits drift, dancing back into the pile. I would always try to rake the yard after, but my oldest sister Kiki would always end up taking over. And slowly things started falling apart. I was to young to understand, but I remember it happening. We would spend almost all of our time at my Mother's friends house. And when we were home there was yelling. I remember my Step-Father Jeff waking us up one morning for Mom, Susanna (the middle sister) was giving him trouble. He was getting angry and angrier, finally he smacked Susanna. Knocked her clear across the room so she hit the wall on the other side. Her back scraped the toy box and she was screaming and crying. You know that loud hiccup kind of crying. Mom was in the room moments later holding her.
They stopped fighting after that.
I don't remember much more from that part of my life. It's all blurry, and wound up together. From talking to Kiki and Susanna I've pierced most of it together. Our Step-Father Jeff was having an affair with Maggie, my mother's best friend. She was burnt and hurt and didn't know what to do. After what happened to Susanna, she saved up some money and ran to California. Where she divorced him, we stayed in lots of different places, always moving. And then one day our grandmother came to get us. She said she was looking after us until Mom found a job and got on her feet. Tali wasn't with us. We stayed with Grandma for a long time. Sometimes we stayed with Step-Dad Jeff too, I was always excited when we saw Jeff because I got to see Tali, my little brother. I almost never saw Mom. I remember starting to ask: "Where is Mom?" "When is mom coming home?" "I miss Mommy, where is she?" They always told us all the same thing every time we asked. That Mom was bad, that she hurt us, that she had beat us and tied us up and do bad things. When I told them that she didn't they would tell us we didn't know what we were talking about, we were too young to remember. They promised to give me a picture of her and and apple covered with peanut butter and honey (my favorite treat) if I told some people who were coming what they said.
I remember what they looked like. There was a man and a woman, they both wore black and the woman's hair was in a bun. I told them that sometimes Mom would spank me, Kiki hid under the table, Susanna told them everything she was told to. She showed them the scares on her back from the time Jeff hit her. She wanted that picture so badly, she missed Mom. She didn't understand, none of us did. The last thing I told my little brother before we left that day was not to play with my barbies. I have only seen him once since then, we aren't close.
Our Grandmother, moved us to the desert. She met a man, Jake, she married him. He was nice. We started crying and asking for our mother more often, I started throwing tantrums. Kiki and Susanna began breaking things, and yelling. Grandma put us in a mental institution. After a year Jake took us out, we moved to the beach. His health was bad, he had aids. His health was failing. Money got tight, he got mean. Someone spilled blood on Grandma at the hospital she worked at (she was a nurse) she got hepatitis, type B I think. She stopped working. Jake got meaner. We moved into a smaller home, a two bedroom. We lived across from a water slide. The owner let us play there for free, and gave Grandma a job. His name was Jacob. He was tall and had black hair, he was Italian, his wife was Cindy. She had multiple scoliosis so her back was hunched. She had red hair, and always told me she would be 5'9 if it wasn't for the hunch back. In the fall I started taking classes in the third grade, Susanna was in the forth and Kiki in fifth. Jake had Kiki give him massages because he was in pain. Soon he had us doing almost everything for him. Kiki bathed him, and picked out his cloths. He told us that we weren't allowed to talk and would hit us if we did. So we didn't go out in the day he took away our clothing, making us walk around naked in the house. When we did go out we had to wear the same thing almost every day. I developed a stutter. The beatings became more frequent. He made me start showering with him, (something Kiki did before). I learned what a blow job was. Soon after I started giving him his massages too. Summer came. I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone, but I made a friend on the beach. He tied me up in a room for the summer and starved me as punishment. When school began again he had me give him longer massages. fingering. I was raped. I was eight. I remember crying at school, it was recess before parents came. I didn't want to go home. I begged my teacher to let me stay, to not make me go home. I wouldn't stop crying. She sent me home. He dislocated my shoulder that night for talking. A few days later my teacher told my Grandma that she had a special project she wanted me to work on for the weekend. She took me to her house and gave me new cloths, let me shower, and helped me make up all the homework I had missed. She tried to talk to me about why I was crying, but I was so scared. He said he would kill me if I told anyone. Being with her that weekend is one of the only happy memories I have of that time. I remember her house was beautiful, the doors were glass.
Jacob the man who owned the water slid started coming over more. He gave us clothing, and talked about his house in the city. How he was a big real estate agent and how each of us could have our own rooms. He cared about us, he said he wanted us to be safe. Life continued as it had, then one day Jake went into the hospital. His AIDS had progressed, he was dying. We talked to our grandma, told her what Jake was doing. When I look back I don't understand how she could have not known. He had us walk around the house naked, and we had bruises all over us, we screamed and cried when Jake was alone with us. How could she not have known? We went to the police station. They made us see a doctor. He asked me to undress and said it was okay because he delivered babies, that he was going to make sure I was okay. I cried until he left. They took a blood test. Cindy and Jacob took us to their house in the city. Cindy told me I was a wimp because I didn't let the doctor look at me. Me and my sisters are the luckiest girls I have ever known. Jake never wore a condom.
They gave us clean clothing and warm food. We picked up school. Our grades were shaky. A hurricane hit the beach. It destroyed all of Jacob's properties. He started drinking. Cindy got cynical, she didn't know how to handle Sussana who had ADHD and was Bipolar. Cidny and Sussana started fighting all the time. Jacob and Cindy were having a hard time with money, they began to yell more, and take their stress out on us. They would sit us down and have these meetings about how we weren't worth anything and how we were stupid. They would scream at us for hours if the house wasn't perfectly clean. We weren't allowed to have friends over or talk to them on the phone. We all escaped into school. At some point Jake's ashes were sent to us, they had been divided up so each of us could have a part of him. I smashed mine in the street. things continued, time passed.
Our mother found us. She had been looking for years after she had the ruling as an unfit mother repealed. (The judge threw the state's case out the window and sealed the records. The only thing that kept her from offing herself was knowing she could see her babies again one day). She picked us up form school one day and took us home with her. I was so happy I cried all the way home.
Susanna didn't want to go, she joined us six months later. Life went back to normal. I resumed school halfway through my sixth grade year. Very very slowly I made friends, my stutter went away. Sometimes today it pops up unexpectedly. In high school I became highly depressive and tried to kill myself. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I got drugs and therapy. Things got better. In high school I meet my eventual husband. We were friends for a long time, went out, broke up, re met accidentally one day, we got back together. My mom and I are still very close. I never speak to my Grandmother, ever. I hardly speak to Cindy or Jacob. My mother and sister found my brother and arranged a meeting once. It didn't go well. My sisters and I are still generally close, both are grown up and married to men who cherish them.
I'm not a victim I'm a survivor. I'm a survivor of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. The people who have tried to hurt in the end have given me some of my greatest strengths. I know how to fight to protect myself, and I know when it's worth letting someone go because they are hurting you. I'm very protective of my daughter, I don't trust anyone with her. I'm trying to work through it.
This is my family now:
From Left to Right: My two adoptive Grandparents Gail & Scot, Me and my husband Peter, Grandma, Mom, Kiki, kneeling in front of her is her fiance Jason, my Biological Father, James is the one standing to the right of him. Susanna is behind the camera.
The photo is a few years old, we have added a few people to it. Our little one Inara, and Susanna's angel baby, and her husband. Life is okay now. If any of you are suffering from emotional, physical, or sexual abuse, or you know/think you know someone who is, get help and help them. It could change their life. And If you ever suspect child abuse, please call CPS. You may be wrong, but it is a million times better to call when you are wrong, then to let it go if you are right.
I have changed the names of some of the people in this to protect their identity. My sisters for example. I'm sure you understand.
Comments:
You are one heck of a lady.I was molested when i was younger of course i had my problems with drugs and drinking later on trying to cope with what happened.I didnt let it break me or define who i am.I got better and have a great husband and an awesome daughter.I to trust no one around her.Every thing i went through as led me to be a stronger.Now i am a foster parent trying to help kids with the same problems.No one was there for me but im going to make sure im there for the kids who need it.
Thank you for sharing. You are so strong and very lucky. Reading your story brought tears to my eyes.
You are brave and a survivor. What happened to you and many others out there in the world should have never happened. Those people are not only sick, but if caught and without a doubt found guilty...should get the chair. Am I being cruel because I say this...no. The bible shows those people would have been stoned to death for their acts. God knew if they were let loose, they would continue to do these things to children. Are we to forgive them...yes, but the act we are to abhor. I truly feel for what you have gone through. I'm a writer and I notice how you can put words together. You should take what you wrote here and work with it and put it into book form. I think it would help many. Good luck always.
Thank you for sharing your story.
It really got to me. No child,, nor adult should have to endure abuse.
You have gone through so much.
I too have had to "survive" abuse, but nothing like this.
the one thing that you said that should be repeated by everyone is this: "You may be wrong, but it is a million times better to call when you are wrong, then to let it go if you are right."
I wish you all the best in your future!!!
Thank you for sharing.
I have my own story too, but not quite ready to tell it.
good writing. the "multiple scoliosis" is not a real think i think u got confused with multiple sclerosis, and scoliosis. It's ok I knew what you meant :) I was abused too it wasn't this bad, but it si hard to get through for sure!
Love to you hun, as a person whose been through enough to know its hard, I'm inspired by your ability to preserver!
What a Powerful Post & a Very Strong Lady! I am so sorry for everything you went through- but, i am happy that you decided to take some of the weight off your shoulders & get it out- i hope telling your story helped some; i have no doubt that you helped others by letting them know they are Not Alone! Wishing you the Best- Take Care
Wow that was a lot to endure as a young child. Such a sad story I cant even imagine.... *hugs* It is for people like you that is why I am going to school for criminal justice to one day be a social worker to help kids get out of situations like that. I just want to help people who feel they have no one in the world to trust. How could so many people have hurt you and your sisters like that that is just awful... I know it has made you a stronger person and I dont even blame you for being so protective of your dd I dont trust anyone either and nothing like that ever happend to me but that is just awful I am sorry but I know you are happy now and that is great to hear.
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Massive kuddos and much love to you, Mama! You are a survivor! The bravery with which you shared your journey in life is inspiring. Thank you for sharing your story! It was beautifully written and very touching!
- MaitriTracks
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