I have to bring my feelings to the surface and work through them...instead of working so hard to suppress them.

I started writing....and there's so many incidences of abuse that I can't even possibly bring myself to deal with each and every one right now. I need to pace myself.

Here's what I have so far:



My Experience at 5 Years Old

You violated me. You took away my innocence. You encouraged me to develop intense fears. You hurt me – sexually, physically, emotionally, mentally. The blood haunts me. The pain haunts me. The fear haunts me. You haunt me.

Get away…please….

What kind of animal....rabid beast…could do that to a child? You deserve to hurt, worse than I hurt – for giving me such a raw start in life. To teach me fear and self-blame. To teach me what it’s like not to be able to scream, or to even breathe.

Do you ever think of me? Do you feel remorse? Will I ever find it in my heart to forgive you? It seems like an impossibility…The only thing I can thank you for is not letting me look you in the eyes. Seeing your face briefly was more than enough to scar me. I feel as though this world will never be what I expected.

My Parents…

I could never do to my child the hurtful things that you did to me. How could you lay such a cruel hand on a precious child? Children are to be loved, cherished, appreciated for their individuality.

Dad, you clearly admitted favoring my sister over me. Do you know how that felt as a young child? Do you realize how hurtful that was?

Did you enjoy letting my friends listen at the other end of the phone while you beat me until I screamed in agony or until I bled?

Eventually, the screams stopped, and it infuriated you more. I developed a liking to the anger I felt during the beatings, after I had enough of the pain and humiliation. Anger….then eventually, satisfied and empty inside. I find myself craving physical harm – to feel that satisfaction and emptiness again….because the anger is hard to endure.

Not even just Dad, or just Mom…Both of you. Together, and separate. How could you not love me enough to be able to control your anger? And why me? Even the most challenging child is not deserving of such abuse and is deserving of love and nurturing.

Your feelings towards me changed when I became the “good girl”. You were content and appreciative when I apologized to you for “making you beat me” – but I sensed no remorse from you. Our relationship was wonderful – as long as I was the person you wanted me to be. I made you proud to call me your daughter, because of my “transformation”. But the past is there, and it impacted me.

Nobody saved me. I didn’t even save myself. I just stayed alive, if you can call it living.

I never heard an apology from you, Dad. And I never will. You were funny and caring….a man who was loved by everyone, when I was an adult. If they only knew how you were in the younger years.

You were so angry and controlling when I was a child and teen, Mom. I can see the fury in your eyes when I now start to tell you NO. It’s the same fury I recognize from your face back then. You don’t like it when I’m assertive…when I’m not the person you want me to be.

Dad, you graduated from spanking….to whipping….to slapping….to closed fist punching, hitting with objects, pushing and kicking.

I retaliated only once. One swift kick was all it took. You didn’t like that, did you Dad? How did it feel to hurt? Yet it came back on me, with the wrath of Mom. Damn you both.

I believed it was my fault. I admitted to you it was my fault, for being so difficult to handle. I sacrificed myself so you didn’t have to hurt. You let me take the blame. You let me believe that and did not own your piece, pouring salt into my open wound. The opportunity is over now. Too late.

I am hurt and angry….and I will never be like either of you.

My old boss....

You took advantage of me. You locked me in that warehouse, trapped me at knifepoint and forced me to perform oral sex on you. The image is so clear. I remember your taste. I remember how you felt in my mouth. You disgusting pig. You wrongly taught me that what occurred was “wonderful” and “beautiful”. I can’t think about this anymore right now. It’s too overwhelming.

My friend...

You took advantage of me as a teen. Encouraged me to perform oral sex on you and praised me for how I was “soooo good at it”….and that lesson stuck with me. I confused it with affection….and the lesson was reinforced time and time again with others - my band members, boyfriends, friends with benefits. That lesson stayed with me through even to my marriage. I never learned what a mutually beneficial, loving relationship was. As an adult, you should have known better. As a young teenager, I didn’t know any different.

Abuser in High School

You disgust me. I shudder at the disgust I feel about what happened that summer. I am disgusted with myself that I didn’t stop it from happening. It only happened once, and I wish I could bleach it from my memory.

Husband

By the time I get to you, I am exhausted by the feelings and memories. I can’t even bring myself to say much more. It’s too much…

Those who hurt me and violated me helped shape me into the person that I became when I met you. And you took full advantage. I was blinded by your words – telling me that you loved me, how beautiful I was, etc. But the reality was so different. You were only manipulating me so that you could get what you wanted. You selfish son-of-a-b***. The insanity, the manipulation, the anger, the control, the constant blaming. Walking on eggshells for 15 years. Even before we were married, I knew something wasn’t right. I was too blind to see it.

There is so much more. So much. But it’s already overwhelming…so I stop here, for now.

Why did I allow myself to endure that? How do I find my way out of it? I don’t know who I am. I don’t know any different in life. How do I get past this and get out of the f---ked up patterns in my life – patterns that I created for myself and allowed myself to live?

How do I stop the memories from haunting me? From hurting me? Why am I always so afraid? Who will I end up being after all is said and done? I feel so damaged, unable to be repaired….I hate the word victim. Survivor is more palatable, but not what I want. I want it to not be real. But it is. Very real. This life is filled with hurt.

I want to overcome.