My life of survival existing!
At the tender age of a child when abuse occurs it will reflect on the out come in our adult lives. This affects how we live our lives and all the challenges in day to day relationships. For example our love lives. Me, it is hard to fall in love with some one because of the fear of being hurt. I am a loner with very few friends, because of always being teased and abused. My parents don't realize just how big of a negitive impact they have had on my life or the forever pain they have caused. I have trouble with nightmares and flash backs.My goal is to help victims become survivors; and abusers stop and get help and potiental abusers not to do it. As for today, I refuse to have any contact with my family and refuse to call any of them family; and, I get alot of negitive judgment on that. Forgive and forget, move on , give them a chance to show that they have changed. I harbor alot of anger and resentment. I have absolutly no love for any of them. My mother used to wake me up for school by beating me in the head, as she put it to make me think some one was knocking, What a way to wake a person up. Oh, but I love you, she said! My father would always come in and touch me in sexual areas; then if I complained and cried I'd be beat with a belt and struck with his fist in the mouth. I'm afraid of the dark to this very day; and have to have sleep medicine to go to sleep. I'm an insomniac and a sleep walker. I had to watch my father kill my puppy because I didn't pleasure him the right way; and that's the way he punished me. I cried, and the more I cried the more he made that puppy suffer. He told me that's what he'd do to me if I ever was bad like that again. I got so I wet the bed every night because of his sexual abuse; and he'd make me wear my wet underwear over my head. I just wanted some love. Was this the way love is? I got so I started believing all people were monster's;all of them! I guess in some ways I still feel this way. When my parents would take to hitting me they'd just laugh at me and call me a cry baby. But remember I was at an age that I didn't understand why my father's penis got big. I thought I was hurting him;and I didn't understand all the noises he made. When my parents didn't want me in their sight they'd lock me up outside in a dog pin, with a dog house and a dog pan for water and dog food, some times for a week. I learned to exist. What did it mean to be human? Like I've said before, as a result of all the pain from my abuse, I'm numb to pain; and I don't show weakness, nor do I hardly cry. It's weak to cry. It's weak to show you're in pain; and you'll get hurt more to be weak. As I grew up and endured all the unspeakable acts of horror,I didn't know just how determined I was to live when my parents told me to kill myself because I wasn't wanted around or needed. I was better off dead; and the world would be better off if I was dead. The world would throw a party if I died. But i'm alive; and I'm not now, nor ever going to give them or any one my life. It's not worth it; and they're not worth suicide. I'm a rebel. That's my strength.