Why Couldn't They Destroy Me?

       I grew up on a reservation. I am of mixed races. Cree and Caribbean. i was severely abused, mentally, physically, and sexually. I am 30 years old and just finally dealing with it.

i don't know even know where or ho to begin, but i suppose my first memory of the abuse was when my uncle put his hand down into my underwear and made me cry. it became a nightly ritual for him and got worse over the years. i was 6 years old when this began. my cousin also experienced his abuse, except she was a bit older so she would get raped while i was forced to watch. my uncle lived in this house with us. we were all being raised by our grandma. she was an alcoholic who didn't notice what was happening or maybe she just didn't care. i asked her about the abuse and if she knew about recently, and she told me to stop making trouble and that she was going to kill herself.

There was someone else who lived in the house with us who abused us too. my aunt. sometimes when my grandma and grandpa would need to go to town to get groceries or something, they would leave my aunt to watch over us. as soon as she saw them leave down the road, that's when she would begin to torture me. she'd pin me down with one knee on my chest on a love seat, and smother me with a pillow until i passed out. then revive me and beat me because i didn't wake up soon enough. she would hold me against walls and strangle me, tell me i was going to die, beat me with closed fists. she even set me on fire. I'd told my mother and she dismissed it all. never did anything about it.

these are only a few details of what happened to me. I've been in therapy for 6 months now and am realizing that i am alive to do something about it.

I am going to confront each and every person in my ever so loving family and expose the ugly souls under their skin. I have 3 children of my own now and the thought of ever committing these kinds of act on my children makes me sick to my stomach and brings me to tears. i couldn't imagine, i can't understand and i can't see even come up with one reason as to why i was so mistreated.

i talked to an aunt who was willing to tell me a bit about my life as an infant. she said she had come back home for a visit one time and found many drunk and passed out people lying around the house. and she found me, 9 months old lying in my crib with maggots in my diaper.

i don't know know if this is typical abuse stuff. but I'm having a really hard time dealing with it and i don't have friends to tell all this to either. well i go to support groups and counseling. but the memories haunt me everyday of my life. i don't know how I've come this far without killing myself.

i guess, I'm just looking to hear from someone who has had similar experiences and can share with me how they got past all the pain and anger.

nebula78 nebula78
31-35, F
2 Responses Feb 22, 2009

I'm so, so sorry for what you endured. I, honestly, had to stop reading parts of your story because of being triggered so much. <br />
Finally got thru it, wishing I could give you a million hugs. <br />
I had a similar "childhood" and, like you, was looking to see if there was someone here who could relate to the nightmare of being abused & molested for so many YEARS. And how to be alive again.<br />
I'm so sad anyone had to existing with this depravity. <br />
When I read your words, I picture you as a very loving, gentle & compassionate mother. I will never understand how anyone could commit such atrocities to a child.<br />
I wish I had some wisdom to give you but can only offer friendship and empathy. <br />
I hope the healing is working. I've been personally terrified of therapy and would love to know what works! <br />
You are in my thoughts & prayers. Be good to yourself.<br />
<br />
(((PEACE&HUGS))))

You are not alone. I am also a child of abuse. I am so sorry for everything you went thru. And I admire your bravery by coming forward and telling us about it. I do know how hard it must have been for you to face it and then write about it. I am just starting to face my past. It was much easier to pretend it never happened. But that I guess is counter productive. You are an inspration to all of us who have suffered. Thank you.