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my earliest memory of abuse started when I was probably around 5 years old. My mother had started seeing someone else although I knew my parents were not yet divorced yet. My father had his own home in another town where my mom would only let us see him on the weekends, 5 days a week were spent living with my mother and her new boyfriend. My mom was working on her new company from home a lot, that was her main focus. Looking back I understand her finical struggle and why she stayed with her boyfriend because he supported her, but I don't
validate that as an excuse for the next 20 years to come. I don't remember what the fights would be about, I only remember the rage, the screaming, items breaking around the house and the fear that went through my body on a daily basis. I was 5 years old, I don't know what I had done so wrong, I remember my mothers boyfriend kicking down my bedroom door, yelling at me with such rage.
His hands soon were wrapped around my throat as he lifted me off the ground choking me, I kicked and screamed but all I could remember was the smell of his cigarette breath huffing into my face; it seemed like he got some amusement out of me begging him to stop. He threw me down on the bed and took of his belt, lowering my pants and gave me a bare, hard beating on my butt and back.
This was more than an old school disciplinary act, it was abuse, what could have a 5 year old done so wrong to be choked out and beaten in that way? I can still feel the stinging pain from that night. I remember sleeping in the closet most nights, it was almost like a safe haven hoping he wouldn't find me. I wondered why my mom didn't come in to help me, was she not home? did she not care?
was he doing the same to her and she was to afraid? but those questions still remain unanswered. A short time later I remember another incident where I had asked how to correctly spell a word for my elementary school homework, instead of just getting an answer he once again came after me, insulting me, ripping up my homework in front of my face and soon after came a beating for bothering him. This became a reoccurring thing if I needed help with school work, so I learned to just stop asking; I still believe this is why I had a hard time excelling in my school work.
To think back and know I was so young being treated so poorly and growing up in such an unstable environment really made things worse in the future. By the time middle school came around I was already having a tough time because I was attending a new school where I knew no one, and my body was developing earlier than most girls so I was tormented for my breast size and I was dealing with issues at home. I remember one of my teachers noticing that something wasn't right with me, they could tell I was being effected by something, they mentioned the marks on my body and set up a meeting with the school councilor. At-last, someone to vent about what was going on at home. What I didn't realize at the time was that by confiding in this counselor I was in for one of the most worst beatings yet to come later that day. I didn't realize CPS was a "thing" and that the councilor would reach out to someone for an investigation. I can still envision that day walking out of the
office and my mother storming down the hallway screaming at me for saying what I did to the counselor. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID? YOU WANT TO BE TAKEN OUT OF THIS HOME SO BADLY? FINE ILL GIVE YOU A REASON TO! ILL SHOW YOU WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE IN FOSTER CARE". I had never been so scared in my life to get into that car and go home because I knew what was going to happen next.
I was in for the beating of a life time from both of them, I remember my moms boyfriend rigging my bedroom door so he could lock me inside of my room, a new punishment had arise, they now could control me using the bathroom and wanting to eat. No TV, no computer, no phone, I was isolated with only my thoughts. All I could think of is why do they hate me so much? what did I do wrong my entire life to deserve this shit and i'm only 11?. The time came a few weeks later when CPS had their first inspection to the house, of course the bedroom door was fixed, along with any holes in the wall to distract the fact of any fights being present in the house, I was basically coached what to say, that "I was a liar and I didn't know what I said those things to the counselor", what I should have done was asked for some serious
help. My mothers boyfriend worked for the county so he pulled every string mentioning every police officer he worked with so it would make him look like some "outstanding man" so CPS would look the other way, and It worked. He used this trick time and time again from this point forward. It was his literal "get out of jail free card". The fights in the house got progressively worse from this point forward,
not only did I have to defend myself against my mothers abusive boyfriend, I now had to defend myself against my mother too. Its like they both developed this raging hate for me. If I didn't do something on command or how they liked it I would immediately be verbally and physically attacked by them. These fights were violent and loud to the point where the police were frequent flyer's to our house, but of course that didn't matter because my mothers boyfriend would mention who he worked with in the county and the police would just leave. Once the police got in that car and left the punching, screaming, hitting, choking, scratching, throwing of objects would continue. Most night if not every night I cried myself to sleep, I always wondered "would i eat tonight?" or worse, "will I die tonight?". Most nights I just wanted to die so it would all end. The only happiness I felt during those times was when the weekend would roll around because my father would come pick me up and id stay with him on the weekends, It was a sense of relief. I had a loving, fun, understanding parent who would let me go out and play with friends and most of all feed me. Sundays we would wake up for 9:00 mass then right after head to my grandparents house. I loved it there, Sundays were my favorite, my grandpa was the best man you've ever met. I remember one day I broke down and confided in him about what was going on at home and it didn't take long for that
man to show up to my mothers front doorstep and basically try fighting my moms boyfriend. I laughed from inside the car. But when it was time for the week days to roll back around reality set in. Back to school that I hated and a home that I hated even more. This time when we would fight my mom would call the police herself and just state that I was "trying to kill her" or "myself" so they would just
take me away to the hospital and put me in the psych ward on an evaluation hold. Nothing will make you go more crazy then being put in an environment with actual crazy people, since I was a minor they let my mom go back there, I can still see the snide look on her face of pleasure, like she knew this was another way of tormenting me.
Once high school came around I feel like that was the peak of the issues. I was 14, had met my first boyfriend, made the cheerleading team which allowed me to stay late at school for practices and games and I LOVED it. I had made fun, adventurous friends and many memories with them. I didn't care much about school work, well, because of that issue from when I was 5, I was taught not to ask
questions or for help, so instead i utilized this time to be in cheerleading and socialize. If I wasn't making the most of my high school memories its because I was on lock down. My now "step dad" and mother could sense the freedom I was reaching for and tried to prevent it. Tracking devices were put on my phone with restrictions such as they could control shutting off my phone service, restricting my incoming / outgoing texts and calls. It drove me nuts at that age, and it only lead to more fights. As if the fights weren't bad enough in the past I was only becoming older which means they would hit harder but I became stronger
and more self sufficient. I stood my ground and didn't take shit and fought back, although this definitely didn't work in my favor. I remember one night the fight wasn't even about me, it was something my mom and now step dad were fighting over. I heard her screaming for help, I didn't want to because I wanted her to feel the pain and fear that i felt going all the way back to 5 years old. The screams got louder
"HES GOT A KNIFE!" she yelled, at that point I had to see what was going on. I peaked through the stairs and saw my step dad pinning my mom down on the couch with a knife to her throat, I thought "This is it, the night we die" how was i supposed to get him off of her without getting stabbed myself?, in that moment he noticed me, and ran right for me, i bolted for my bedroom and slammed the door shut.
I can still feel the fear and adrenaline pumping through my veins in that moment. I didn't know what to do, I had nothing to protect me, i heard his loud footsteps storming down the hall way coming to me, i did everything i could to hold that door shut. That night i tried to hang myself in my closet. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of killing me. What i endured during the last 10 years with this man
was to heavy for me, my depression was at an all time high, i felt that i was failed by the CPS system, by my other family members who turned the other way and chose not to believe me, i was lost. My heart ached, i knew their was no end in sight to this violence and i just wanted out. I recalled my mother telling me that she absolutely hated me and that I was her biggest regret, that she wished she had aborted me when she had the chance. Words never hurt so much, but it explained so much. so many more fights continued throughout the years, one time i took $2.00 for school lunch and my mom had me arrested for theft, for simply trying to eat. i was brought into the station, cuffed to the wall and questioned like some criminal. I couldn't stand being treated this way anymore. i sat back and watched as all my friends had normal lives and loving families. At this point i had so many issues at home its like my mom and step dad just didn't seem to care anymore, they would constantly kick me out of the house on a whim and literally leave me homeless. Winter, Spring or summer it didn't matter. I usually just relied on staying at my fathers or with friends, or even with my on again / off again high school
boyfriend. The stress became to much, my friends lived a whole different life than me and at that point ready to go off to college, i stayed up one night, on my friends couch and just contemplated my life and why it turned out
this way for me, my thoughts went off and i slipped into a dark depression. my solution was to take a handful of antidepressants and just try to go to sleep and commit my suicide that way. the next afternoon
i was awoken by being shaken, slapped and yelled at by my friends mom to wake up, she knew what i had done due to the empty pill bottle laying next to me. unfortunately this wasn't my last attempt, i tried a few more times within the next two years or so till i went off on my own and moved to another state. that really helped me, i was far away from my family, i had my own apartment and for once i
felt at peace and most importantly safe. i worked on my mental health and although till this day ( 8 years later ) my relationship with my mother and step father are still in shambles. I've tried therapy with them but they just say that i'm lying and making all of this stuff up. but one doesn't just "make this up" especially starting at 5 years old, its all vivid. i can still hear the fights, smell the atmosphere of that day,
and be traumatized by the events from the past. they are still in denial of what has happened in the past, the physical and mental burden they have put on me and it breaks my heart that my own mother hasn't found it in her heart to ever apologize to me for anything in the past.
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You had a mother the same as I did. The only difference is you had a stepdad who is just as bad. I had a dad who knew the dreadful way I was being treated and did nothing to stop it. At least you are away from these horrid people now so go on with your life and don't look back. You can have help from a therapist if you want so that you can function in a successful way through your life. Be happy and positive now and view life from a different perspective. Those horrid people don't deserve to have you do anything more with them.
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