I have written past memories of my childhood in small stories. Now I am going to share it all in a nut shell. Many of you all ready know most of my life but, I have now my ending to share. So please bare with the detail and the bluntness. I shared most of this with my past therapy group and now I will share with you.

My abuse started very young. I remember 4 years old to 13 years old like it was yesterday. I remember all detail, feel, look and smell. I now have feelings of it starting as early as diapers. This I know because when I change my children's diapers or wipe them down or even bath them, I panic and hurry with the process and hold my breath and tears at the same time. A day never went by without my father abusing me. I never slept because I would be woken up or worse woke in the morning to my clothes ripped or on the floor. My father was a very violent man. He was a drunk, pedophile and a rapist. He would beat my sister, mother and myself for just being in the way. My mother was rapped by this man and I believe but, with out proof that he was a serial rapist. I was threatened to not tell about my abuse or I would be killed. Until one day at 13 years old I told my hidden secret and that abuse ended. I was put in foster care for a year. Growing up through my adolescence was horrible. I was put in a psycho ward for a year because I was suicidal, suffered from depression and hallucinations. So, I sat in padded rooms all drugged up most of the time until they thought I was ready to go back into the "norm" world again. Maybe they didn't keep me in long enough, for I became addicted to sex, drugs (cocaine) and alcohol and cigs. My mother and new step father realised I had a problem, after finding out I had taken all my medication. I was in a comma in the hospital for some time and then put away again, this time in a detox full of fucken nut jobs. I became very promiscuous after that and collected along the way many stds. But, my father gave me the gift I will have for the rest of my life (Herpes.) So every time I have a breakout, I see and feel my father and his fucken smirk on his face. I didn't know what was wrong with me at the age of 9 years old, because I was told never to tell by my father. He said it was a yeast infection. When I turned 21 years old, I sure found out what it was because my oldest daughter was covered from head to toe ( what they thought to be Herpes.) Thank the lord it wasn't she was blessed to only have been burnt from my placenta. She should have been born three weeks prier to that. So, my daughter is my miracle child. I have been in and out of therapy since 13 years to now being 37 years. I suffer from dissociation, depression, borderline personalities with occasional suicide thoughts. I'm on medication right now for the depression and it seems to be working well. There are many chapters of my life but, I will stop at this.

I have come along way and it has not been easy. I still have a lot more to work on. I am not healed nor will I ever be but, for me to carry on I have forgiven all that has harmed me. Not because they deserve this, but I deserve this. I could tell you one thing, I would never change my past and want anything different ( except have money.) lol because I would not have what I have today, my family, my friends, all of you here and my strong belief in the lord. I am a strong woman and I'm a survivor. So now I practice to be impeccable with my word. To not take anything personally. To not make assumptions and always do my best.

( Prayer for love)

Thank you for using my words, for using my eyes, for using my heart to share your love wherever I go. I love you just the way you are, and because I am your creation, I love myself just the way I am. Help me to keep the love and peace in my heart and to make that love a new way of life, that I may live in love the rest of my life. Amen. ( This is for all of you.) I love you.

Growing up with my sister was, lets just say hell. From the day I was born she hated me. She is four years older. As early as I can remember she was so evil and mean to me. One time I remember her sitting in my crib while I was sleeping and she went pee in my bed, ran out and told my father I wet the bed. Now keep in mind I was only 2 years old. So what if I had done this in the first place. I'm a fucken baby right? Wrong, my sister knew that if she told our father he would be pissed and I would get beaten.  So, I got a beat. Many many other times she tormented me as well with abuse. She never protected me, walked in several times while my father was abuseing me and she would just walk out and not say a word. All this time I thought she was never abused by my father because she told me that. I thought how can my father just abuse me and not her and why not her? She is 40 years now. She has MS. She struggles with boyfriends, meaning one after another, she is never satisfied with any of them. Today I got a call and she broke down and said that our father abused her too. She is having memories/flashbacks and needed to share them with me. I listened, I cried, my heart hurt with each word she said. Her memories are very painful and brought alot more of mine to the survice as well. You see, I have been dealing with the memories since I was young and I reember mostly everything, I have also been dealing with everything as well. She has not, this would be the first time ever that she excepted my help. I asked her to join counseling with me and let's help eachother through this. I have a huge head start but, she is just begining and this is going to be very hard for her and her health. We have never had a close relationship and this sucks so bad, but she is my sister and regardless of us not being close, we need eachother now. I have to be her cruch and I have to help my sister because if I don't want to see her get ill and suffer. I'm so scared and I 'm crying so hard right now, my chest is killing me. Memories are filling my head right now I feel like I might explode. Is it posible that I can remember seeing and feeling things at lets say, 1 year maybe alittle older? My sister would be 5 years old and she is on my father naked and he is pushing her up and down on him. She told me this and I see it in my mind and I tear up and start to feel sick and very scared. Did I see this or is this just a reaction to what I was just told? Either or, that bastard he took our innocense away from us both. It has fucked up our lives so bad and my sister is starting to see this. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOU. Sorry.

She told me she was being hurt,

She was only three years old,

I took her away and hid her,

She had to be safe,

They were on thier honey moon,

They would not be back in days,

I thought I had till then,

They kicked my door in,

Kicked my dog across the room,

Choked me in my bathroom,

Made me piss my pants,

Demanded where she was,

Told me they would kill me,

I lived in the guest house,

They dragged me to my mothers house,

They were all asleep,

They dragged my mother out of her bed,

They kicked and kicked her in my back,

They punched her tooth out,

They said we are a family and we will deal with this our way,

( "Gag her and shut her up, they said, or we will silence you,")

( Five of them, my sister, new husband, his sister and his parents.)

I was scared to death they were going to kill my mother,

The house was full of elders sleeping in there beds,

( They heard everything and were so scared,)

I had to do something quickly,

Before it got out of hand,

I backed out of the door,

I ran down the long ass driveway,

Ran next door to a house and yelled for help,

The police when up towards my house,

I ran back home praying my mother would be ok,

Everyone was outside the house,

They made them go home,

Police said they would have done the same if there child was taken too,

I was choked and said you know where she is,

I was told to put her somewhere safe till Monday,

She was with her father,

(They cut the phone lines so we could not phone for help,)

They were going to kill my mother.

( They got three months probation.)

My niece went back to them, the judge did not believe a mother could hurt her own child.

When I was 13 years old, after I told I was put in a foster home. One day from there, my mother came to pick me up for the day to go see my aunt and uncle ( my fathers) sister. They did not know yet what he had done to me. I thought it was for me to go and speek with them and tell them about it. I remember how I felt about this, I had a huge pain in my throat and I was sweating. We arrived at there home and walked in and sat on their couch. They asked how we have been and said nice to see you guys. It was not like us to just show up and visit. They knew something was up. I slowly started talking about what has been happening and what has become the outcome of it all. They were shocked, my aunt just looked at me with tears and said I'm sorry for this to happen to you and walked out of the room. My uncle however continued to talk for awhile to comfort me. He then told me, they would disown him and never speek with him again. Then out of know where after a pause, he told me that we shall not have anymore contact with eachother because he felt there was no need to. My father would be out of the picture and what would be the point in staying in contact with us. Wished me well and we left. I was, as my mother in complete shock and discust with what just happened. I had nothing but anger with them for many many years until just recently I found them on facebook and they accepted my freindship on it. At first I just wanted to tell them how much of fucken assholes  I thought they were but, something held me back for awhile. I found out there son my cousin, passed away not to long agoe. They would not tell me how. Still don't know. I have talked with them a few times and they have told me they have always loved me and are behind me 100% in anything I want to have happen with my father. So with me just holding onto those words I was to say to them, they came forward and told me in there way "we have always loved and cared for you." I except this but still have the pain of not having them in my life when I needed them the most. I have forgiven them though. To move forward with that. I figure they did not know who to deal with it, so this is what they thought they needed to do. 

I was searching my birth name on google awhile back and came across an add from some lady looking for info. on great grandparents and long lost cousins. As I was reading it, my fathers name and aunts  names were on it. I was like, holly crap this is neat. I wrote to her and told her who I was and she contacted me back several months later. I was shocked to read that she is my great aunt that only lives a city over. I have been keeping close contact with her via email and we have become very good friends. I did leave a message on my aunts email but she has not responed back to it. This would be her chose not mine. I was to go see my great aunt this weekend but my teenage daughter is very ill right now and I will be too busy in the hospital with her and I need to stay by her side. She emailed me back and said  this was fine she is not well either, she stated that this is not the place meaning email, she wanted to tell me this but, she has cancer. It went and now it is back at full force and nothing can be done. She asked me not to shed tears for her and said she was going to be with god soon enough. She said we will meet soon.

Well shit, I'm feeling empty and left with pain in my heart right now because of this news. My heart hurts so bad because we have not even met face to face yet. I hope we do before it is too late. I will make this happen.

I just wanted to also say that in our messages back and forth, she was abused too in her childhood. So our connection is very strong. Her words to me are always incouraging and so helpful. She has this powerful message of forgiving and moving on when we speak. I do believe I was ment to find her. She is an angle I have yet not seen but feel.

There are a lot of things that I'm not proud about my sister. She is a troubled Lady at the age of 40 years old. Always a new boyfreind everytime I see her. It's pretty bad when X-Mas comes and we all have a bet going on to see if it's a new guy coming for dinner. Always sleeping around and still since the age of 13 years old.  I call her a me me because she only talks about herself and never asks about anyone else. I mean she has only seen my children maybe 10 times since they were born she lives 40 mins. away. Ya, she's a me me. She only admits to some abuse and it is only the physical part. She told me and still tells me she was not sexualy abused, but she was. I saw. This is not what I wanted to talk about though. I will get into this stuff another time. I wanted to continue with the past message I wrote on Jason my sisters' ex. boyfriend from way back. If you don't know what I am talking about you will have to read the entry on Memory I wish I never had.

My sister has not heard from Jason till just of recent being like 2 months agoe. My mother told me over a conversation on the phone. She was terribly upset with her and said that my sister is talking with Jason. He found her some how and they have been talking. Well, he is married with 2 young babies like me and told my sister he was not hapy and wanted a divorce. Shit right there my sister should have said sorry for your troubles and I wish you luck. Not he stupid lady he ends up sleeping over at her house. Ya, stupid. Why in the hell would you even get involved with a married man and with babies for frick sakes. Anyway she told mom all about it, my mom let her have it. I thought this was a very low thing to do. She does not know about what he and his roomate did to me. I think she might be secretly seeing him now. This is fucken shit, I don't know what to do or even say to her. She is the type to explode on me and say I lied or something like that. I'm concerned however because she does have MS and is not functioning like one should with thinking. All I know is if I ever see him, I will be first scraching his eyes out and then a baseball bat to his balls. Well, then you would think holly shit this must really of happened or I'm completly crazy. I would only hope in my sisters case she does not bring him around. I just don't know what to do.

My sister had this boyfriend for quit a few years. She is 4 years older then me. He became part of our family we all loved him dearly. He was that older brother I always wanted. One day I never saw him again, my sister and him broke up. We found out from a phone call from his father a year after, that he was in a terrible accident. He was going to be ok, but he was drinking and driving and hit a girl in the other lane of traffic dead on. She died before even reaching the hospital. We were all so horribly upset knowing he had killed an innocent person. He went to prison, he got 5 years, ya that's right 5 years for killing someone. I hated him for doing what he did. Well, he got out and called my mother, I happen to be there and we talked and he wanted to meet up with me and talk. I did miss him and just wanted to see his face. I was 23 years old. I met him at his home, and met his roomate. At the time I did not know this was his cell mate in prison. We went for dinner and had a nice talk, I was alittle on edge to the fact I did not know what to even talk about. After dinner we went back to his house, as I drove and had to bring him home. He invited me in and we had a drink. Beer to be exact. He and his roomate asked if I wanted to go to the club down from there place for a drink or two and do some dancing. Me being an alcholic at that time in my life thought hell ya why not, free booze. I'm in. We were all having fun, drinking, dancing and it was getting late and I thought I better stop drinking and sober up a bit before I have to drive them back home and drive home myself. Well that did'nt happen. It gets a little blurry now. I am not sure how we got back to there house and who even drove. I remember feeling very dizzy and light headed, complety out of it. Drunk yes, but this was differnent. Long story short because this is painful  to remember and talk about. They took advantage of me. Both at the same time, however I did'nt tell them no and stop. I could not even talk, but I did have some control over my body, so I could have fought but, I did not. I do know they vidoe taped it. I remember seeing a camera up in a corner of the room, the room was set up with red curtains all around, and candles everywhere. I must have passed out, woke to being in a bed with him, his name is Jason, on me having sex with me. I was out of it, dry and it hurt so bad, I did tell him to stop your hurting me but he did'nt. I woke the next morning and I was clothed and laying alone in Jasons bed. I remember stuff now, but I did not back then. I got up and looked to where everyone was and Jason was in the room we were in and clening it up. There was wax all over the place, but the cutains were gone. I asked what happened and he said the candles were left on all night. He said that he had a v ery busy day and I must go now and he would call and talk with me later. I was to confused with everything, I left and drove home crying all the way thinking I had done something wrong and it was all my fault this happened, but I was not quit sure what happened. Now I know, they drugged me. There is a conclusion to this story that I will share later. I never told my sister about this, but I did tell my mother and she wanted to kill him. Thanks for listening.

Continued from After I told....

My step father (now) my mothers friend (then), got my mother and sister out of the home and set them up in a hotel till my mother found a place for us. I was to stay in the foster home till I had a home to go to. I visited my mother a few times and noticed her and my sister only had there clothes and not much else. This I was not going to except. I got involved, I was no longer scared of my father. I asked my foster mother and social services if there was something one could do to get our belongings. I was told we could'nt do anything at this time. I was pissed, not only did we all have to go different directions and be split up, the asshole got to sit in our home with all our stuff and our pets. I'm like fuck that, my foster mom helped. I asked her to please arrange with my father and the police and myself, yup you did'nt read this wrong me to go and get our belongings. The day came, I went with my foster mother in her van to load what we could. Knowing that if there was any problems, police would intervene. As I walked towards the door of my house I looked at my foster mother and she said breath you will be ok I am here with you. My heart was in my throat and I was soaked with sweet and shaking. I opened the door and walked in, my father was sitting at the table, I have not seen him for almost a year I am almost 14 years old. I look at him, he looks at me I tell him this is my foster mother and she has come to pack up the kitchen we have are boxes in hand. He says go ahead I don't want anything in the kitchen. I then proceed to walk by him and go up to my room. I come up and down with blankets and pillows. He is watching I can tell he is looking at what I have. I walk by again and up the stairs. As I walked to my room I felt extreme panic and I heard the bells I used to hear ringing in my head. ( I can't believe I can still feel what I felt so long agoe, The feelings to me are so intence like they just happened .) I looked around and did not know what to pack. I did'nt want a thing. I did not want the memories. I left everything, but I grabbed a long round pillow on my bed, I am so sure it was from my mothers mom. I walked back to the kitchen and my dad grabbed the pillow from my hands and said you can not have this, it is not yours. I was so mad we did alittle tug  back and forth. I looked at him, my foster mother was looking and I said 'FUCK YOU." Well he was furious, my F. mother jumped in and said enough I will call for the police. He backed off. She was mad and at me too. I went to my mom's bedroom to collect the photo albums and again he said no. My f. mother said ok lets gather what we have and go Melanie. I grabbed the bird cage and said can I take my bird and I remember him saying ya I don't need a stupid bird. My mother already took our cat. As we walked out with some stuff, I turned around and said another"FUCK YOU." Slammed the door. We got in the van my foster mother started it up and said don't ever do that again he could of done something horrible to you to us he is a crazy man. I looked at her and said sorry but I told him "FUCK YOU". We both laughed it felt good. I now look at it as material belongings beside the photos cause those you can not replace, but my grandmother had lots for us. I got to tell him off, after all my years of abuse I told him.

This is'nt the only time I told him off. I got to again a couple years later that is another story of mine. Sorry for all the F U's.

After I told my mom, she was mad and did'nt believe my father would and could do such a thing. I felt completely alone and ashamed and mad at myself for what had just started.

I remember sitting in the police station 13 years old scared as shit as a police officer took my statement. I was all alone with him and then two. They looked at me and I could tell they did'nt believe me, kept on raising there eye brows and stuff.( I can't wait to get ahold of my file to see what was written.) There will be some issues to raise, I am sure. I told them what had been happening the best way I could explain.Then they talked to my father and me together, ya that's right together in the same fucken room. Can you believe this. You can't do this what the hell were they thinking. Keep in mind this is back in 1986. Things were a lot different then than they are now to a certain degree anyway. My dad admitted to the abuse, but no penitration. They believed him over me. Things were done wrong for me, investigation, everything. They did'nt even charge him, arrest him. He admitted to it. Don't understand this. ( I will soon though, I want to know why and I will find out. ) Next thing you know,  I am in a foster home, taken away from my mom from my sister. I was put in counseling right away and school grade 8. Needless to say, ya I was in school, but I was never in any class rooms. I had foster sisters/brothers and my room was down in a corner basement room, dark, cold, ugly, single bed, dresser with a slidding door beside a mentally challenged boy who masterbated all the time.I hated being there, hated myself, hated the fact that I was not with my mom and she was still with my father. I did talk to her on occation and she said she was sorry, she was in denial and in shock did'nt know what to do. She was scared to leave my father, she was a victim of physical, mental, sexual/rape. My mom took almost a year to leave, she met a man at her work and he got her out and saved her in 1987. To this day I am proud to call him my father. They have been together ever since.

To be continued....

"What's wrong Melanie." my friend asks while I sit on my bed. I am nervous she looks at me and says,"it's ok you can tell me."

"Well my dad does things to me, like put his fingers down there and licks me and puts his penis down there in me."

"Oh my god Melanie, this is wrong he should'nt be doing this." she says.

"How long has he been doing these things to you?" she says.

"Since I was 4 years old." ....( I am now remembering as an adult, it was much younger.)

I will never forget the panic in her eyes, she grabs my arm and we run. We run to her foster home. I remember feeling so scared, I just told and now my dad would be caught and I would get killed.

Everyhting happened so quickly, phone calls, police, soial services, The call I made to my mother telling her for the first time what dad has been doing to me.

"What the fuck are you talking about, why are you lying about something so bad. What the fuck is wrong with you." my mother says. I hung up.

Foster home one year.

Sexual abuse stopped but, the hell I went through as a young teen to now adult is another story to tell.

From day one school was horrible in Kindergarden all I did was cry. Grade 1 and 2 could not do normal things like the others kids like read out words, spell, ect. Grade 3 and 4 I started to get bullied about my clothes, haircuts, food just about anything. Grade 5, 6 and 7 same thing and kids started to beat me up too. This is when I started smoking, drinking, skipping school and stealing. Slipped through the cracks I call it. Was not properly educated and no one seemed to care. Passed all grades, did'nt know a thing. Went three weeks in grade 8, that was it I was done, 13 years old and not educated. I ask myself where were my parents through this and why did they not see this, I don't know things were different back then. You did'nt even get a call home if a student was not in school that day. I don't remember getting any help for homework, but I do remember my dad yelling at me calling me fucken stupid because I kept spelling here(hear) in a sentence that was to have the word here. Never forget that.

( At the age of  20 years old I did a G.E.D. exam for my grade 12. I failed by 3 marks. So I know I am fricken smart for not having any education and failling by 3 marks.) I just did'nt bother to do it again.

I am 10 years old. I don't like this house it scares me. Weird noises come out of the 2 crawl spaces in my room, those jingle sounds again, but now  I am scared of them. My sisters walkin closet is scary too. I don't like looking up the stairs that go up to my room , it seems evil and unwelcoming to me. I try to stay away as much as I can. The abuse continues, but I can't remember much of it. I think my dad was doing less to me now. I was felling lonely. I thought he did'nt love me anymore, until we went to the drive- In. ( I thought when he abused me that this ment he loved me.) ( I know now that I suffered from anxity/panic attacks, so this would explain me being scared of the house.)

We went in his old vintage car. I remember being all excited about the movies we were about to watch. We had our popcorn and pops. All of a sudden he says lets get into the back seat and cuddle. Fuck great, can't even watch a movie without him touching me. I went in the back with  him and just prayed he would leave me alone. Looked over to the people sitting next to me in their car and they looked at me and I felt their worry as they looked at each other and looked back at me. My father saw this and did'nt touch me for the rest of the night. I was gald. Ever so often the girl next to us would look at me. I felt safe that night. We got home late, I was pretending to be sleeping. I remember the car stopping and my dad gently but his hand between my thighs. I pretended like I was wakeing up. For the first time I did not like him touching me like that and I brushed his hand away quickly. We just got out and went inside. I went to bed.

 Never any privacy. I am in the bathtub, it's almost dinner time and again I would be 8 years old. I was floating back and forth in the bathtub will the water going in and out of my vigina, it felt almost like when my father would lick me. Thinking I am alone, I open my eyes and my father stands above me with an evil look in his eyes. I quickly sit up and cover up my body with my hands, I am embarest and fightened. " Hurry up with your bath it's almost dinner time." he says. He walks to the door that joind into the bedroom closet. He shuts it, but left a crack open. I know he is still there he is looking at me through the crack. I thought he liked it when I did these things to myself I am so confused. Maybe he is only aloud to do these things to me. Now I feel dirty and ashamed again. 

Masterbating is normal (teenage to adult maybe younger) thing to do.) I always and still feel ashamed and dirty to do this because I feel this is wrong but, yet it is only normal. Wow he has and still has fucked me up sexually. 

This is somethiing I shared with my counseler for the first time ever. I have struggled horribly with this and still do to this day. Both my storys you are about to read are very private but I do feel safe to share them. i am hoping I am not the only one that suffers from this. I started masterbating at a very young age. I was 5 years old I believe. My dad showed me how. I remember now what he used to do, he would put my own fingers down there and help me move them. One time I was around 8 years old and I took one of those bed posts that screw into the bottom of a matress and inserted it into me and humped it. I remember it did not hurt, it went in so easy. What the hell  I'm 8 yreas old this should not fit into me. It's the size of a mans penis. I am so angry, discusted, why did I do this. I am embarrest and ashamed of myself. I feel like something was wrong with me as a child because I liked it and could'nt atop doing these things to myself. Am I the only one that has done these things to themselves and let thier abuser do it and I enjoyed it. This is fucked up I am just a child.

I will continue later to write my other story.

 I am about to tell you a story that I do think my father could be this person. I can not prove this but, I just have that feeling now and I did then. I am 10 years old. We live in a house on a dead end road with a townhouse complex behind us. There was a rapest at large roaming the area and asulting young ladies/girls. My mother would make me and my sister stay inside especialy at night. Well, I was too young to be out at night anyway. Young ladies/girls kept on being assaulted, not sure what happened to these ladies/girls or how many, but I do know it happened almost every night for awhile then stopped. The report was that a man would assault these ladies/gilrs and threaten them to not move, and he would run off. He wore a paper bag over his head. My father was away most nights and came in late. I remember my mother asking him where he was and he would brush her off and say never mind and be all wierd and stuff. I just had a feeling that's all, maybe it's because I knew he was a monster and I would'nt put it past him to do something like this. I am sorry if this story bothers anyone, but like I said it just felt wrong. The Paper Bag Rapest was never caught. ( I just felt like I needed to share this.) This was just horrible for me at 10 years old thinking he might be doing this and I could'nt do anything or say anything about it.

"Don't spill the surup." dad says. "I won't daddy." He continues to make the pancakes. I am sitting at the kitchen table and waiting to eat. He puts some pancakes on my plate, I put some butter on them and then pour the surup. Oh god, I dropped the surup. He looks and yells, "what did I fucken tell you, don't drop the surup." I quickly get up and know to run, he chaces me with a fly swatter and smack right in the head and continues to hit me. I continue to run to the stairs. "Mommy help me," I yell. My mom comes running as I am running up the stairs. She grabs the fly swatter from my dad and says what are doing. "She spilt the surup and I told her not to." Mom holds me, and tells my dad to go away. My dad leaves the house, I go back to the kitchen and help my mom clean up the surup. I know this does'nt sound bad and I know it really is nothing to complain about but, it is something I can't forget. Just when I did things that a normal child would do I would get so punished for it. Belts on my bare bum. Slaps in the face. Grabbed by the throat. For things that are nothing. I just would stay away and hang out in my room. But that would bring him up anyway. So there was no hiding, for I would be found.

I would say this is a memory but this is part of my story.

(I am 10 years old now and still the abuse has not stopped or just alittle.) I am at a flea market with my father, I am helping him carry boxes out of the camper trailer to our table to set up for the day. We finish up and have an hour to relax before opening. Dad decides to go back to the trailer. He says to me in the trailer, if you are tired take a nap. I lay down and he is just about to walk out the door, he looks at me, I know this look. He comes up to me and pulls down my underware and starts his fucken licking thing again.

When he finished he looked at me and said get some rest  we have a long day ahead. I did'nt sleep. I cryed.

(This is something I have never said to anyone before but when my husband does this to me I sometimes see my dad. How fucked up is that. This scares me so bad I hurry everything up for it to end. Wow, I can't believe I just shared this. I am not sure I want to post this. I wonder if I am the only one like this, maybe there is something wrong with me. Oh my god here I go I am posting it.) Please don't  think of me too out spoken.

Mom and dad are fighting. This is normal to me. Always yelling and curseing between eachother. He was always drunk. Mom grabs a knife, dad comes running. "You want to fucken kill me", he says. "Here let me help you."he grabs the knife from her hand. Mom is screaming, I am watching, yelling and crying for hime to stop. "Don't hurt my mother." " Shut up my dad says." He has the knife to my moms' throat. Grabs her by the hair and flings her on the bed, slams the door. I stand there and listen, wanting  to run for help but I can't. I hear ripping of clothes and slapping. Mom is screaming and crying. The door opens and dad walks by me. I look at my mom her clothes are torn and her face is red, she is crying and trying to cover up her chest. I go to my mom crying and trying to hold her. She pushes me away and says get out. She slams the door. I am at a rage and I want to kill my father. I am some how not afraid of him no more. I have never seen him hurt my mother before. I am sure he has before. What a complete fucken asshole. My mother took so much abuse from him for so long. I am so proud of myself for telling someone about my abuse. I not just ended it with me and my sister, I ended it for my mother and now she is at peace. I love you very much mom.

I am 8 or 9 years old. My friends and I are in my room playing. I thought he was'nt home. We hear something at my door. I open it up and we all see my father bent over ass facing my door.I slam my door I am so upset. I will never get that image of the scare in my friends faces out of my head. My friends just look at me in a way I will never forget. One is in tears and the other mouth dropped. I don't know what to do I just want to hide and cry.I go downstairs  I am so scared, I know I have to say something to my mom because now my friends saw that something was'nt right. I tell my mom and sister at the kitchen table that dad was in front of my door when I opened it. ( I  explan by showing them what I see because I do not know what to call it.)  My sister says, oh my god he was masterbating. Mom is so mad, she tells me to send my friends home right away. I send my friends home and mom comes up running, yelling and cursing at my father. I am standing in my door way and he walks by me and says thanks alot, this is all your fault. I remember feeling so drained and alone. Why did they have to be here, why did they have to see this? If it was just me I would not have said anything. My mom never talked to me about it, it was never mentioned again. It was like it never even happened. My friends did'nt want to be my friends anymore. They would laugh and make fun of me in school. Everyone knew but, did'nt say a thing. This is when I started to smoke and steal my dads booze, my god at the age of 9 years old. By the time I was 13 years old I was addicted to booze, pot and smokes. I had no one. I thought maybe my friends would say something to someone but, I guess they never did. So no one wanted to help or even cared about this, about me.

 "Melanie come here" yes dad. I proceed to take off my underware. This is something I did to make him happy. I just turned 8 years old. In the T.V. room he pulls the blinds and turns the T.V. low. He lifts me and starts licking. I hear the door creek, I quickly jump and sit beside my father. It's my sister who is 4 years older coming in. "What are you guys doing." " I have a loose tooth and dad is pulling it out." She looks and gives us a wierd look and closes the door. I don't know why I wanted to keep this a secret. ( Well, maybe it was because I was scared, ya that's it.) What a dumb ass I am, it would have been seen and it would have stopped.( Or did my sister know and did'nt help me or did it happen to her too.) 

Ok, so again he could have been stopped. My vigina is red, swollen and ichty. I don't know what to do. I know if I go to my mom, my father will get caught and I will die. So, I go to him. We are in the downstairs bathroom. I tell him I am red and ichty. He looks and says this will go away, do not go to your mother and do not tell anyone about this. My sister again is coming down the stairs and peeks into the bathroom. She says what is going on, I jump in again and say dad is just looking cause I am ichty down there. Shit, why am I doing this again, I am protecting him. ( Ya wait, I know I was scared I would die, he said he would kill me if I told.)

Now as an adult I know what was wrong with me. I suffered  then and I suffer now and forever because he is the one that gave me herpes. ( How, you ask, because he had cold sores and he used to lick me). WAY TO GO DAD. HOW I SUFFERED AND STILL SUFFER GREATLY FROM YOUR ABUSE. AND WHEN I HAVE BREAK OUTS ALL I DO IS THINK OF YOU.

This is all I am writting tonight because I am so upset at this moment, I want to hunt him down and kill him. 

I am 6 years old now in my new house. Same shit, different day. I woke up one night very sleepy to my leg dangeling over the edge of my bed, felt something on my foot. Then I realized my father was rubbing my foot on his penis. I started to cry out loud and my mother said "Tom" (not his real name), "get out of Melanies' room".) I laid there and knew this was wrong, and not suppost to happen because of my mothers voice. This bothers be very much to this day. I asked my mother about this and she said if she ever new my father was doing these things to me she would have killed him. I believe her, my mother is not only a good mother but my very best friend. The abuse continued though, I thought he would have stopped after that night.

He then started to do different things with me like bending me over till my hands touched the ground and would start dry humping me naked. I would always hear faint bells ringing and see a vision of a white blur, that made me feel safe and not feel what he was doing. ( That may sound wierd but I remember this.)

My mom was in the hospital lots and one night I woke to my father cuddled up to me. My table lamp was on and I looked over to see a pair of sizzers. I fell back to sleep. I woke in the morning to him gone, sizzers still there and my pj bottoms and underware cut open at my bum. I was sticky, sore and had spots of blood on the bed. I am guessing he penetrated me? I was so confussed and did'nt want anyone to see these pj's and underware so, I hid the pj's and underware in the bottom of my toy box.

I was so fucken alone, scared, I had no friends and did'nt want any anyways. I was afraid to have them over, I thought my dad would hurt them, I did however have 2 friends over for my 7th B-Day. My father would stare at there bums so hard that I gave him such a glare he stoppped. I thought well this seemed easy enough. So that night I was jumping up and down on the couch and he asked me to stop, my mom was in the kitchen she can see. I told him in a whisper I will tell my mom what you are doing to me. (Wow, I am 7 years old and I had strength like that.) He got so mad he came up to me a grabbed my neck and said if you say anything I will kill you. Well fuck,  I knew then I could not say a thing. I was bloody scared. Bastard....

Sorry for my words, I needed  a few bad ones in my story. I will write more again, this feels good to write, but very draining. I am tired but at peace, I am ok.

I am 4 years old, I look in the T.V. room in the basement and see a pile of bones on the couch with the T.V. on? My father calls my name and it's him sitting on the couch. I go to him and sit beside him, he pulls me close and kisses my head and says I love you. He starts to touch my leg and then my underware. He pulls off my underware and holds me with one hand under my bum and one hand under my back to his mouth and starts to lick me. He finishes, puts me down and says it's our little secret don't talk about it. I leave the room in search for my mother to find her in bed resting. I go to my room and hide in my closet. I remember to this day the feeling I had down there. I was scared and did'nt know what just happened. He did this so often i just thought it was a normal thing to do. It happened in the basement, in my room, day and night and sometimes more than once a day. Not only did he sexually abuse me, he would hit me when I did something he did not like. Then we moved and it all got way worse. 2 years of abuse in that house. I do not remember anything good to me at that age at all. Neighbors kids and my older sister that was friends with the girl next door, enjoyed watching there dog lick me too at one time in there trailer and laughing about it. The boy Bully hit me in the face and stomach on my way home from my friends down the road from my house too, because he thought I was looking at him and he wanted my licorish. 4 years old what the fuck did I do. ( I know I did'nt do anything wrong.) I will be writing more as time permits, I seem to need and want to write on here none stop.I can't seem to stay off.  My heart hurts but, at the same time I am feeling a release. Babies are awake from there naps. Love and respect to all.

( the bones I am referring to, are what I saw when I was young everytime I went to my father.)

Hi, i just joined this group yesterday. I have not had a chance to sit down and write. I am a busy mother of a 15 year old girl, 2 year old girl and a 1 year old boy. I was sexually abused by my father from the age of 4 to 13 years old. It would of went on longer, I am sure but I told a friend. She happened to be in a foster home and her foster mother reported it. I was taken out of my home right away and put into foster care. I whole year I was away from my mother and sister. It took my mother that long to leave this monster. I was ruined, I hated being alive and would run away all the time from my foster care.

( I remember being at a bus station about 3 citys away and with a big suitcase trying to remember my friends number to call her for help. I noticed a old man who to me looked like santa clause drive by several times and look me down. It was late at night and all the buses had stopped running. I felt very threated and just stood there not knowing what to do. I man out of know where was beside me. He was wearing all black and asked me if I was ok, I said no I ran away. He looked at me in my eyes and said,  "you know that old man keeps driving by you, I am afraid he is going to take you, can I please call the police for you and help you get back home." I said ok, he called and said he was going to sit with me till they came. The police showed up, but as I was about to say goodbye to my friend, he was gone. It was like he was never there. I call this my angle who saved me from an old man looking to take me away. I will never forget this.)

If I was not being abused my my father, I was by the neighbor kids and bullied by the boy down the street. I don't recall ever having a nice moment in my young life. I was so alone, played alone, cryed alone, but there was always something present with me. I will leave it to this right now, as I have to stay strong for my children, I will continue to write as I have time to. I thank you for the warm welcomes and hope to make friends with you all.