What Really Happened..

On the outside, people always assume that I have the ultimate life..From a superficial stand point, I may be "gifted" with beauty, a nice house, and fancy materialistic items..but it all a mask to the devastating truth of what truly happens behind these perfectly painted doors.

I've been a victim of child abuse, in just about every form, since the day i took my first breath. My mother wanted nothing to do with me, and was diagnosed with postpartum depression when i was born. My father tells horrific stories of her shaking me as an infant, throwing me across the room, and screaming in my face when i would cry for my mothers nurture. It progressively worsen as i became older, and when more of my needs were having to be met.

It disgust me how such terrible behavior became the norm. after years of being hit, neglected, blamed, and told how worthless i was, i assumed that every house hold was just as chaotic. I remember having to put coverup on my bruises and gashes before going to elementary school. it practically was in the same routine as brushing my teeth. my mother would do every thing in her power to maintain this perfect persona, that we had some happy family that could do no wrong.

My father on the other hand was my super hero. He attempted everything humanly possible to heal our family, and get us all help.. when he wasn't working, he would spoil me with affection. He would make me feel so special and loved, the only source of nurture i really had..but he was just as in denial as my mother. I still don't think he's able to face how much damage my mom really caused.

he never knew how severe the abuse was until he walked in on my mom locking me in shower, screaming terrible insults at me, while i was fully clothed and had been soaked for hours. My poor dad was convinced that he would re pair the un repairable, but in all reality he was contributing to the pain as well.

by 5th grade nothing was working, and my teachers were starting to catch on about my nightmare at home. My dad refused to call the social workers, in fear that i would be taken into foster care. I started seeing a therapist (my 3rd therapist at this point) who had an at home practice. She had me draw picture of my family, and instantly picked up on the issues when i drew my mother as a monster, and my dad and me as the size of ants. She offered to have me illegally live with her, while my dad divorced my mom and created a proper stable environment for me to heal in.

An extremely long story short, my parents divorced and my dad moved to NYC to be by his job. living with my therapist i felt so isolate and even more like an abnormal child. My father won full custody of me, hoping that the pain and suffering would take a turn for the better. Living in NYC was a playground for me to act out in. I was a very sexualized teen ager, who was manic, bold, impulsive, and angry. I made plenty of friends, and was always compassionate with others, but i usually kept my dark childhood a secret. everything was bottled in, and the only way i felt like i could release it was by drugs, alcohol, and sex.

i slowly but surely became a raging addict. I had almost every bad habit imaginable. I was kicked out of my school in NYC and court ordered to move away from the big apple since my behavior showed i couldn't handle it. so of course i no choice but to move back to the evil of my mother, where the physical, emotional, and verbal abuse instantly picked up where it left off.

my risky behavior but me in terrible places, and created even more regrettable memories. I spent 2 years in rehab in Utah against my will, which was more trauma added on to my life, being that i was locked away with girls 10x crazier then i was being told by mormon staff how awful my morals were. I was discharged a few years ago, and am still adapting back to society. I suffer from a tremendous amount of PTSD and am still battling addictions.

all these paragraphs are literally just a summary of my life. its not even the beginning. I'm now striving for peace, forgiveness, happiness, and a sense of security in every aspect of my life that is possible. i figured this is a good place to cleanse myself of the burdens of my past that i poison myself with on a daily basis.

I cant bear to give the dirty detail of the exact nature of my abuse, so my writing may seem a bit off. it is already killing me to type the short amount that i all ready have. but i know i cant keep denying my 15 years of abuse any longer. i must own my story, view myself as a survivor, and purge the torturing memories that are still haunting me in my adult years.

thank you for reading my story. this is the most honest i've been in a very long time about who i am and what i've been through. i hope my journey has helped or inspired you as much as your incredible stories have with me. comments would be greatly appreciated since i am very hesitant to submit this and scared of putting myself out there. I wish you guys the best, you are all so strong.
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1 Response Jan 14, 2013

(((GIANT HUG))) I am glad you are alive and getting better.