Childhood Scars

For some of you this post will be hard to read so if you are not ready to hear MY  truth…do NOT continue on…..

Child abuse is very familiar to me.  I could write a book of all the things I have survived,  but for this post, I am just going to briefly run through the worst of them…the ones that have affected my life the most and molded me into the person I am now.

My memories go all the way back to when I was 4. Boyfriends of my birth mother had their way with me a few times.   I also watched my birth mother be beaten and yelled out by several men.   My most frightening memories are being locked in underground wine cellars for punishment by my cousin, being pushed down the stairs (broke my collar bone 4 times by the time I was 6), being left at bars, being left with different sitters and my aunt and uncle even took me and siblings a few times. …I seriously could write a book on the crap the little ME survived.

Finally in 1st grade after watching my mom being abused for years and going through it myself, and “complaining’ and “acting out” as my birth mom said, I was sent to live with my dad who I did not know. This is when I learned that speaking out just got you sent away.

I lived with my dad and his new family till I was 15 when some “inappropriate” things happened. My dad held me down one time and gave me hickies all over my neck (like it was  funny,)(can you imagine going to high school with fucking hickies on your neck from your dad?????  To make it worse because I had nowhere else to go, after this incident was reported, the courts gave me back to my birth mother. Unfortunately she still didn’t want me, i just became a meal ticket for her because my dad was ordered to pay her support as long as she had me. And the reason I say this is because not to long after I was sent to live with my birth mom, I ran away and she didn’t report it to my birth dad until months later so she could still collect the child support.

All of the above affected the way I was as a teenager and I feel into a deep depression and became what I call a very “troubled” teen. My birth mom was always out at the bars living her life and rarely home being a parent. She chose the men over us all the time. I always felt like an inconvenience when all I wanted was for her to love me.  I was Torn between two awful worlds and just wanted someone to be a parent and love me.  To this very day l don’t have these people in my life….it angers me when I think about it, because I did NOT ask to be BORN.

At 16 I met this great young man who came from a good loving family. He respected me, didn’t expect anything from me, he was just awesome.  I should have known by then that good things don’t come my way…..LONG STORY short ….the captain of the football team liked me and he was very determined to have his way. He and the football team beat up my nice boy and undid the bolts in his trucks tires almost killing him.  Looking back now, what I did definitely came from my past of abuse/neglect, because I gave in. No one was there of a parent figure to tell me to do something differently. So I broke it off with this great guy and went out with this asshole captain of the football team.  Within the month the physical abuse began and what I know now as the “control wheel” began. This asshole smashed my jaw, threw me through windows, ripped my hair out, punched me  and one night forced me to have my first adult sexual experience from which my son was born.  For two years I took this abuse, the police tried to get me  to leave but every time I tried he would punish me some horrible way. He dressed me every morning, he gave me 25 miles a day to go to school and back, if I was ever over it he would punch me till I passed out. And just like the abuse wheel shows, you always get a gift after a beating and somehow this made everything ok.  He told me I was used, ugly and that no one would ever want his trash(ME) so don’t ever  think about leaving.  And this abuse was  before his drug use. When he started using cocaine, the beatings were worse; I have scars above my eyes and on my chin and they are all from him. The FINAL night as I call it, the only reason why he stopped smashing my head in  with the phone is because he thought he killed me.  The night  started with his friends over for dinner and someone asking me to warm their dinner  biscuit and he told his friend to chew the cold biscuit up and then spit it at me for it being cold. Of course his friend refused so he took it and did it himself. I began to cry so he started to hit me, his friends left and he dragged me to the bedroom and began to rip my clothes off and punch every inch of me.  I HAD it! I crawled to bathroom locked myself in and grabbed the shower curtain, opened the door and ran towards him with all my might hitting him with it. What I did not know about cocaine at the time, is it  allows you to not  feel pain. So he laughed it off, took the shower curtain and hit me along the side of my face then grabbed me and threw me against the bathroom tub. I have no idea what came over me next but I like to think it was God telling me to the stand the fuck up and get help. Next thing i know, I stood up and ran once again towards him and opened, my mouth, taking a chunk of his chest. THIS DROPPED HIM!!  At that very moment all I remember thinking was grab your son and call 911. I grabbed my son and went to the kitchen and dialed 911. All I remember next was the operator asking if I was OK. Apparently as the operator answered he grabbed the phone and began to smash the side of my face with it. Knocking me out cold, he thought I was dead, because of all the blood. He then ran off. I woke up to the police and ambulance rushing me to the hospital.  I will never forget the officer who was sitting by my side the entire time telling me to please leave and he would help me through the process. On a side note..the 911 call was so hard for me to listen to in court…you could hear me screaming as the operator was asking me if i was ok.**** I left that day but I was PUNISHED more than ANY physical abuse he could hand me because  A few weeks after he was found, bailed out and such he broke into our house and killed our cat with a base ball bat and smeared his guts all over the house and then hung my hamster with a twisty tie. But worse of it…..when all was said and done, He was given some visitation and on one of those days, he filed paperwork accusing me of being a bad parent and then ran off with our son for 15 years.  This is ALL I will say about that because I just found my son a few years ago and we are still trying to figure out our relationship.  And all of this is very hard for him as he was told all these years that  I left him and didn’t want him.  I shit you not, I have been to court more times than i can count. If it was not for Ray at Child Find, I would have never found my son.

NOW I know this all sucked, I know I lived it. But I have done several huge speaking engagements at Domestic violence meets. I was given grants to go to school because Mr. Reid attended one of my speeches and i was also a guest speaker for the soroptimists.

I  donate to woman’s shelters where woman are hiding from assholes like my ex.  I know what they are going through, and NOW there is MORE HELP for people. During my abuse, people closed their doors, ignored it. Shit his OWN FRIENDS didn’t call for help for me. If you are being abused right now, get HELP. Verbal, emotional and physical is ALL abuse!!!  Now even though I survived all this, at that time in the 80’s there was not much as far as help for my emotional side of the abuse. I had nightmares for years that he was going to kill me. I relived the beatings, I thought I was ugly. I struggled emotionally for a long time and still some days all I see is the scars on my face he gave me. I say all this because after working on my Criminal Justice Degree and taking a million classes on this type of stuff, I still drew in the wrong types of men in my life. I never learned the tools to love myself and only looked for someone to love me and to fill my loneliness because after all, I was ugly and someone else’s trash. Everyone I have been with since then has either talked down to me or physically hurt me. It is still something I struggle with and I make excuses for the abuse. I blame myself sometimes because I sometimes I think I deserve nothing else. I think maybe the main asshole was right, no one is really every going to love me. I mean why else would people continuously hurt me? No one is perfect but emotional, verbal and physical are ALL ABUSE.  Another TRUTH is…every TIME someone nice and sincere comes along; I bail on them, like I don’t deserve good things, as some of my best friends say.

I am still healing even after all these years. Trust me, now fighting a disease that is TAKING time from me, IS a HUGE eye opener and I plan on taking the risks I need to, in order to be happy and treated good. I am a good person,I DO know that now. I deserve to be happy and not experience any more abuse.

So with all this said when I read that some Dr’s are finding that women like myself who have gone through years of abuse are now getting these chronic/terminal immune diseases and dying early, I found it intriguing.  The Adverse Childhood experiences testing is very eye opening and makes a lot of sense to me. At a very young age, I was neglected, abused and abandoned by those who were supposed to love me. Truthfully I know the little Me is still there hiding in a corner. I have come along away, I have had tons of counseling, have done several EMDR sessions, art therapy and have done several speaking engagements in hopes that sharing my story will not only help me get it out but help someone else. More importantly I am praying that these scientists and doctors that believe that trauma affects our cells continues to work with people like myself and maybe someday they can find a way to change our cells back, if indeed that is what is going on.  Some people think that those doctors that believe in trauma cell issues are crazy but if you were in my shoes and didn’t want to die at such a young age or be stuck on chemo/biologic meds for years..I guarantee you would at least give it a shot. I have dealt with ovary cancer and now I  am battling 4 autoimmune diseases and doctors have very little idea on what to do for it except pump you full of poison meds and in my case put in a permanent pain pump hoping that keeps me a little comfortable while i await my death.  Like I said before I have nothing else to lose. My cells are killing me, I am slowly dying, my organs are being destroyed. It is time someone pulls me up from the darkness…….

It is hard when people tell me how STRONG i appear when inside I still have those cracks and those abandonment issues that were burned into me as a child and reinforced as an adult when the one person I loved outside of my parents abandoned me emotionally when I needed him most. He pushed me away, left me holding this big unknown luggage what was to turn into the disease that i fight today.  I still struggle when i catch people lying to me or stabbing me in the back because the “little me” stands up and just wants to RUN, because she CAN now. She may not have a plan of where to go but she can run now. She wants to pass her scars on to the ones that have etched them originally on her.

When you have survived as much as I have you really feel naked around others because everything that I believe most children should be given by those who are supposed to LOVE them is missing from me. I was never given that support, that shelter, that unconditional love, that somewhat solid ground.  I was taught love is just a word. And even though I try with all  my might to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, I still never really feel on solid ground.

Every time as an adult that I have tried to stand on solid ground someone has come by with a sledgehammer and destroyed everything I have worked so hard for. I somehow ALLOW these typed of people in my life and then make it OK to treat me exactly how I am used to being treated…..badly.  I seem to make excuses for these people like it must be how everyone is or maybe this is  what I deserve. This includes friends. Throughout the years I thought I had a few people I could always count on, only to watch them abandon me as well for one reason or another but mostly because, “I am too sick.” Whatever that means.  People always find an excuse to be a negative part of my journey.

Now that I am older I see that people can just be evil. But if I am to be honest, which is what this post is all about, i have to admit that I think if my own parents who created me can’t love me, then why I am surprised when others I bring onto my journey treat me in a similar fashion.  I have been in enough therapy to know that until you break the cycle that you will always look for the things you are missing. The things you think you need to make yourself whole. I often wonder what is so wrong with me, that you can’t just love me unconditionally the way I love you. Then i snap back to reality and remind myself that life doesn’t work like that.

In my health support groups I read all the time that I am not alone. A huge percentage of people come from abused situations whether it be by family or others which again is why I want to be apart of this testing.

Yes we are all warriors in one way or another but I want to know why some abuse cycles are set on fucking repeat no matter how hard we try to fast forward.

I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me as this is NOT the purpose of this post but maybe it will shine some light on why I am the way I am and maybe why I am so sick, who knows right?!

One of my personal favorite things to say is, “I want my health to be the worst part of me.” However even to this day it is not. I still have a lot of healing to do and a lot of things to move on from. I need to STOP going backwards just because I am afraid of what may be ahead of me. I need to allow others onto my path that are “different” from what I am used to. Which is scary. I have lived many years in abusive situations one way or another and i have very little exposure to “positive” experiences.  One day I pray that my health WILL BE THE WORST part of my journey but until then I will keep pushing myself to believe that their is  some good in this world and that some people will NEVER run from my health issues, they will not take my love for granted and  more importantly I will believe in myself more than I do today.