- Oct 6, 2010
- 33
- 3
- Faith
- Christian
- Marital Status
- Married
- Politics
- US-Libertarian
Thanks to Krissy Cakes for pointing me in this direction.
I've decided to tell my story here, and I will be a bit candid. This is a warning in advance to anyone who might have triggering sensitivities.
The first six years of my life were mostly good. I had a lovely Christian mother who treated me wonderfully. We were extremely close. I was like her little shadow. My father was absentee at best. He was gone a lot with the military, and when he was home, he was very self-absorbed.
When I was three, my mother was diagnosed with colon cancer. This was 28 years ago, and the technologies were not nearly as advanced as they are now. She battled for three years, but ultimately went to be with God when I was six.
After her death, my father's true colors came out. He started beating me incessantly on a daily basis. It seems as if he took all of his frustrations out on my backside. He had a habit of calling me horrible names, and it was quite obvious that he did not love me, nor want me around. He would lock me in my bedroom for weeks, only allowing me out to use the restroom. He would come in every now and then to give me another beating.
After a time, he met and married my stepmother, who was a wretched woman. She despised me, and flat out told me that it was because I looked so much like my mother. She saw me as some sort of competitor. She was my caregiver during the day, and would tell my father horrible stories about me when he came home at the end of the day. I had a regular nightly beating for things I didn't do. He would leave me with my sister overnight, so he could go on trips with my stepmother and stepbrother. I was seven and she was four. I remember how terrifying that was.
When I was nine, he finally chose his wife over me, and sent me to live with my mother's mother. I have not seen him since. My grandmother was a better person to live with, but only in the sense that she did not beat me. She was good at making me feel like a burden, and she never once, in eight years, showed a single sign of affection. She was great at belittling me and my feelings, and never allowed me to do anything. I, by all intents and purposes, was a prisoner in her home.
I got up the courage to leave her house when I was 17. It was the most liberating thing that had ever happened to me, and I'll never regret that. It made me the black sheep of my extended family. I have never been able to talk to any of them about my abuse, and I don't think I will ever be able to.
Due to being so sheltered while living with my grandmother, I became a bit wild once I left her home. That wild streak helped me make poor decisions, and I ended up being raped. I lost my virginity during that incident. I still haven't quite come to terms with that.
In the present, I am married to a wonderful, loving man and am the proud, proud mama to a beautiful little girl. I struggle with overcoming a lot of issues that I have stemming from all the abuse. I have PTSD, major depressive disorder, and anxiety disorder. I also struggle with co-dependency, intimacy issues and lack of self worth. I have been actively trying to recover from the abuse for the past 2 years or so. I am currently working on a bible study by Beth Moore that has really opened my eyes about what I went through and the chains that I still bear.
Thank you all for reading. My hope is that I find fellowship here.
I've decided to tell my story here, and I will be a bit candid. This is a warning in advance to anyone who might have triggering sensitivities.
The first six years of my life were mostly good. I had a lovely Christian mother who treated me wonderfully. We were extremely close. I was like her little shadow. My father was absentee at best. He was gone a lot with the military, and when he was home, he was very self-absorbed.
When I was three, my mother was diagnosed with colon cancer. This was 28 years ago, and the technologies were not nearly as advanced as they are now. She battled for three years, but ultimately went to be with God when I was six.
After her death, my father's true colors came out. He started beating me incessantly on a daily basis. It seems as if he took all of his frustrations out on my backside. He had a habit of calling me horrible names, and it was quite obvious that he did not love me, nor want me around. He would lock me in my bedroom for weeks, only allowing me out to use the restroom. He would come in every now and then to give me another beating.
After a time, he met and married my stepmother, who was a wretched woman. She despised me, and flat out told me that it was because I looked so much like my mother. She saw me as some sort of competitor. She was my caregiver during the day, and would tell my father horrible stories about me when he came home at the end of the day. I had a regular nightly beating for things I didn't do. He would leave me with my sister overnight, so he could go on trips with my stepmother and stepbrother. I was seven and she was four. I remember how terrifying that was.
When I was nine, he finally chose his wife over me, and sent me to live with my mother's mother. I have not seen him since. My grandmother was a better person to live with, but only in the sense that she did not beat me. She was good at making me feel like a burden, and she never once, in eight years, showed a single sign of affection. She was great at belittling me and my feelings, and never allowed me to do anything. I, by all intents and purposes, was a prisoner in her home.
I got up the courage to leave her house when I was 17. It was the most liberating thing that had ever happened to me, and I'll never regret that. It made me the black sheep of my extended family. I have never been able to talk to any of them about my abuse, and I don't think I will ever be able to.
Due to being so sheltered while living with my grandmother, I became a bit wild once I left her home. That wild streak helped me make poor decisions, and I ended up being raped. I lost my virginity during that incident. I still haven't quite come to terms with that.
In the present, I am married to a wonderful, loving man and am the proud, proud mama to a beautiful little girl. I struggle with overcoming a lot of issues that I have stemming from all the abuse. I have PTSD, major depressive disorder, and anxiety disorder. I also struggle with co-dependency, intimacy issues and lack of self worth. I have been actively trying to recover from the abuse for the past 2 years or so. I am currently working on a bible study by Beth Moore that has really opened my eyes about what I went through and the chains that I still bear.
Thank you all for reading. My hope is that I find fellowship here.
xo dee
