|Sep 19 2011|
I was raised by a severely depressed motherand an alcoholic father. I was the youngest of four children. My dad physically beat my mother but wouldn't allow my mother to beat me when he was home sober.
My mother worked nights and she would lock me up in my bedroom to keep my dad out. This made it very hard when I had to go to the bathroom at night and so I wet the bed a lot as a child. And this would upset my mother when she got home in the morning from work and she would yell at me and hit me until the time I left to school.
My dad would crawl on the floor outside my bedroom door. He would also slip money under the door to get me to open the door. Sometimes he would figure out how to get in through a window or remove the hinges off the door. This would go on from the time he came home from the bars drunk until my mother would be outside jingling her keys to unlock the backdoor coming home from work. And he would run to their bedroom and jump in the bed.
My dad would climb up in the attic and stay nude for days and only come down at night to get something to eat and drink and to try to molest me. He would go outside and roam around nude and try to get into my bedroom window. This was very frightening as a child.
My first incest rape was by my dad on the bathroom floor. I had to go to the bathroom so my sister's unlocked the door and let me out so I could run quickly to the bathroom cause she didn't want me to get into trouble when mom got home from work. I made it to the bathroom door and he grabbed me pulled me into the bathroom and locked me in with him. I remember hearing my siblings trying to bust the door down to get me out and my brother on the phone with our mother. I was around 6 or 7 years old.
I didn't never want my siblings to call our mom cause if she had to come home from work I would be beat by her cause she had to leave work to come home and deal with my dad. I would like to say this was the only time but it wasn't. I do not ever remember a time as a child that my dad was not molesting me. Some family says it was when I was a infant. I remember as far back to 4 or 5 years old until I was almost 15 years old.
My mother would choke me, tried to drown me, pinch me, slap me, pull my hair, throw things at me, scream at me, call me names, hit me with anything she had in her hand, bang my head up against the wall. When my dad left my mother, the beatings by her got worse. She would make me beg him to come home when he called. She blamed me for him leaving and she was very depressed I felt sorry for her and responsible for her unhappiness.
I worked after school from the time I was 8 to 14 to help my mother pay off all hot checks, pay back money she had stolen, lying for her, keeping the family secret and her out of jail I came home from school at 14 to find my bags were packed and two men were there to take me to a children shelter.
She told them I was out of control, drinking and doing drugs. That I was disobedient out of control teenager. What? I was scared to death of my mother and didn't dare disobey her she would of killed me. I had never drank or did drugs at this time. I never had sex with anyone but it was her sick husband who raped and molested me.
And now I sit in a room in a building and alarms would go off if I left the room. And my mother didn't speak t me for six months. I was so angry, bitter and hurt she did this to me. It changed me to not trust anyone.
When I was a child I spent a lot of summers on the farm at my great grandparents house. I don't remember how old I was when the incest started with my great grandpa and great uncle. My great grandpa and me would be outside, or in the another room or even in the car while great grandma was in the store and he would mess with me. And she caught him many times. I remember one time when he was chasing me and I ran behind the barn and he fell to the ground.
The family came out and picked him up and got him closer to the house and got him to the hospital. When he returned home he was in a wheel chair and he would blame me and use that to get me to come to him. So I would.
When I was 9 years old my great grandma told me to go into the bedroom that my great grandpa wanted me I knew what he wanted. I went into the bedroom and sat on the bed. He reached up and smiled and touched my face and then his head fell back against the iron headboard.
My great grandma got on the phone and called my grandpa and then had me walk to the neighbors to get help. I walked slowly and I prayed he would die. By the time I got back he was dead. I blamed myself for years for his death.
While I was out on the farm my great grandma's sister and her husband would visit. And he also would touch me. I remember one time it was my great grandparents wedding anniversary and all the family was there. I had to go to the bathroom. There was no bathroom in the house. We either used the outhouse or a metal pan with a lid that was under the bed. I was told by my mother to go into the bedroom and use the pan. I didn't want to go in there.
My great uncle was asleep on the bed. I tried to be very quiet so I would wake him up. I remember trying not to let the sound of me peeing hit the metal pan and wake him up but it did. He grabbed me and held me down on the bed and tried to put his penis in me.
My aunt caught him and I remember her and my mother arguing. Other family members came in to see what was going on.My mother got all of us kids and left dragging me by my arm and screaming and hitting me. She yelled at me all the way home and telling me how I bad had embarrassed her. When we got home she continued to scream at me and at bath time she kept hitting me knocking me down in the tub. She grabbed me and held me under the water. My siblings tried to pull her off me and finally she released me but that didn't release me from the beating or screaming at me until bedtime.
Members who read this post also read: