Please share what happened to you:
When did it start?
How did it start?
Why?! Why did it happen?!
I find myself constantly asking these questions. I don’t know why it happened. Or when it started, or why. My abuser was sick, twisted, and depraved. I hope he doesn’t have kids. Did I do something to deserve this? NO! No one does. EVER!
How did it start and when? I don’t have an exact date. Trauma will do that to you; it will make you block certain things and memories to protect you and your brain. Your mind and memories will only let go as much as you can handle. I can tell you this: He wore a white men’s undershirt with a round collar. It happened in his bedroom. That was one memory I have; one of the places the abuse happened. He inappropriately touched me. I believe I was around 10 when this started and may have stopped mid to late teens.
During one of his visits home, I went through his things because I knew he had a gun. I held the cold steel in my hands; cold as the person who abused me. Cold as the people who allowed this to happen and Would. Not. Defend. Me. I held the gun up to the mirror and I saw his face in the mirror. I pictured me shooting him. However, I didn’t. I’m not sure I could have.
I was sexually abused, verbally abused and physically abused. He raped my innocence. He took away my trust in people. He killed my being and my self-worth. In addition, if that wasn’t enough, my abuser accused me of telling on him. It was really an excuse to be his punching bag. He hit me on more than one occasion. I could never defend myself. I felt helpless and hopeless. How do you do that to a child?! How do you live with yourself?
I had other people verbally abuse me. They wouldn’t be there for me, wouldn’t have my back. Would not protect me. One only cared for her social status. The other two turned a blind eye but made sure to let me know I was worthless in their eyes.
My “brother” was my main abuser. My “mother”, my “father”, and “step mother”, were the co-writers in this terrible play that was my childhood.
How are you doing now?
How am I doing now? That’s the six million dollar question isn’t it? I think that when you are sexually or mentally abused it is always with you….stored in the filing cabinet in the dark corner of your subconscious. There are days when your subconscious is light as a beautiful summer day…then there are days where it is a dark like the deepest coldest meanest winter night. It will always be with you. Some say get over it..Unless you are in my shoes or other abuse survivors shoes, don’t say that. You get on with your life as much as you can. Keep moving forward…keep smiling on the outside when sometimes you don’t want to on the inside. I have great sunny days where that filing cabinet drawer is locked tight. Then I have triggers. It took me a long time not to curl up inside when I saw a man wearing a white undershirt. I couldn’t stand them. And sometimes I still can’t. Because of my “brother”, I will never have a family. I am being blamed for not stopping the abuse and for not getting help. My “brother” robbed me of my family. He can do right by the world and would never have done this to me according to my “family.” I couldn’t do right by them. I have wondered in the past if the stress from the mental and physical abuse caused my Cancer. I think of my immediate “family” as Cancer. Evil. Destructive. Toxic. How am I doing now? I try to embrace life and to have a positive perspective. I have been in counseling off and on for years. It is tough to do, but oh so worth it.
Is there anything about domestic violence you’d like to tell the world?
What do I want to say about Domestic Abuse? Don’t. Just don’t! Don’t hurt your wife, your girlfriend, your husband, your partner, your family or you siblings. We don’t deserve it. If you love us, don’t hit us or take away our spirit. Don’t strip us of our self worth & don’t rob us of our joy.
If you are being abused talk to someone, make a report and file charges. please do what you can to GET OUT NOW! It will only get worse, not better. If he or she loves you, they will not beat you mentally or physically. EVER. Love is NOT abusive.
Do NOT give us backlash when we tell our stories. Do not blame us. Help us. Guide us. Don’t brush us under the rug. Be our voice when we can’t use ours. Be our positive light when we are lost in the dark.