
For some reason I felt the need to share this. It might be
"Triggering" and a bit graphic , so please take care of yourself first. I guess I'll just start at the beginning. At they very young age of 4, my mother was on her 3rd marriage. She chose to leave her first three children with my Grandmother. My mother chose this man over her own children. I am grateful to this day for Grandmother. She was a very "religious" person. I believe her faith was genuine, but far too controlled by the fear of "sinning". I remember so many things that she consider sin. You had to wear only dresses if you were a girl. You never cut your hair. Dancing was definitely of the devil. Just too many rules and no no's and very little joy. I believe she tried to do her best however.
My stepfather was a cruel, mean,alcoholic, and perverted. Part of the time my mom would take me over to her house and he would touch me in ways that were very inappropriate. I was so young when this started( 4-5 years old). It seemed I was scuffled from house to house and no one really wanted me. I so disparately wanted someone to want me. As I grew older my stepfather's "foundling" became more aggressive and he would penetrate me with his hands and other objects.
At a very young age I started having "black outs" or began to dissociate. This would happen while he was hurting me and also at other times when I was in school. In the first grade I often would just walk out of school without remembering why or how I had done it. It was a different time when I was a child. No one questioned the parents, you were just labeled a "bad" child. We were all severally beaten when we were children leaving marks on our bodies that no one ever questioned.
"Very Triggering"The first very brutal rape I remember I was about 10 years old. I had did something " wrong" (put on a bathing suit and went swimming with some friends) My stepfather and my mother picked me up and beat me severely. I was then taken to their house. He told me he was going to teach me a lesson about "what happens to little sluts". I was tied hand and foot to the bed and repeated raped. I remember there being so much blood. I keep blacking out to endure the pain. After that time when ever I had to go to their house there was the chance I would be rapped again. This continue for several years. He was getting bolder and even would rape me at my Grandmother house in the basement.
My first suicide attempt was when I was about 12 years old. I took a razor and deeply cut my arms. The scars remain today. They took me to a doctor and told them I had fallen and cut myself during the fall. Still no one questioned what was going on. This is also about the time I started having problems with food and the beginnings of my eating disorder.
To make a long story short the abuse continued until I was about 16 years of age. He died of liver disease from his drinking. I had a mental "break down" when I was 18 and I totally blacked out my past. I do believe my inner child died at that time. I moved away from home and in my own mind I was a virgin again.
I next met a man that showed some interest in me. We were soon married and his true nature came out. He was very abusive and would beat on me repeatedly. He was also sexual inappropriate but I did not recognize the signs. I continued to black outs and dissociate. We had two children which later after we were divorced he confessed that he"may have molested" them. He called me at work and told me he and his new wife had been arrested for molesting their daughter. They are both in prison now.
I had been hospitalized several times for depression and my black out at this time. I wasn't attending a church at this time but a co -worker that knew I was having problems suggested I talk with her pastor. I went to see him and did everything possible to make the man dislike me.
Knowing he was pastor I said horrible things about "how if there was a God then he most be totally evil not to care about the children in the world". Pastor Randy didn't correct me or tell how wrong I was to think such things.We met several time before I walked in to his church on a Sunday morning. As time went on I continue to talk with him. He knew I was a single mom and would come over to my house to help fix things and help with the yard work. He really lived what he talked. Finally he left the church to work in another part of the state. We still keep in touch. He even came back in town to help me when Chris died. He did his memorial service too. I do believe Randy saved my life. I miss him so much even though we continue to talk monthly.
I continue to fight depression. I most likely always will. I sometimes have very dark thoughts. I sometime want to die to find some peace. I'm in therapy and on medicine. I am still very wounded. I'm having less dissociation than I used to. I have to admit I did it quite frequently after Chris' death. I'm glad the "caring for others" has never died in me. Believe me when I say I know I'm not totally well. Maybe some of my thinking is all messed up, but that OK too. Maybe someday I will be able to help "the little girl inside me." I do hope so.
I am so thankful that someone took time to care about me! That is my goal in life to reach out and care for those who so desperately need someone to care about them.