From the beginning- The childhood

This is my story. I will leave names out for the respect of others. I will not go into gory details and a lot might be left out but its for the best, you will still get the idea. I will try my best to tell you my life post by post. You might not agree with my writings and I may be too open for you but that is fine because I am the one who lived through this, not you. I have had many people hear my story and not want to befriend me anymore like I could help what happened to me or they judge me for it. I made a point to no longer tell my story to people because of this reason but this is the one place I feel like someone needs to hear it! There is so many people going through this right now and don't know a way out and are scared of what their going through. You might have gone through the same things and suffer from it and don't know how to move on and let the past be the past. If any of this refers to you please keep reading my blog! If you know anyone who has ever been a witness to such manners and you don't know how to help them, share this blog with them! Don't be ashamed and don't let them feel ashamed! You are loved and you will get through this!

Growing up I didn't have the childhood memories most would love to remember.  I spent most of my up bringing being scared of doing the wrong thing at all times. I was afraid to fall asleep that I might be woken up to my worst nightmares. I was scared to leave my mother alone. I had to protect her. I had to protect my sisters. My mom tried her best to protect me. She was in love. She was weak. She didn't know different. That life was all she knew and she was scared to death. All those things didn't make her strong enough to take her children and run and never look back. People would say, "How could she put her children through that life?" & "What kind of Mom is she to let someone do those things to her own children?". Don't judge unless you have been there. You don't know how hard it is. I blamed her for many years on top of blaming the one who did it all to us. Time and time again, leaving, going back, leaving and going back.... Our life story!

My Father was in and out of Jail and Prison. In and out of our lives. The time I felt the safest was when he was in Prison. I knew that for a couple years I didn't have to deal with the many things he brought to our family.

Most families celebrate and come together the most on Holidays and Birthdays but not our family. Just about every birthday and holiday started or ended with my dad physically abusing my mother or me. Nothing says Happy Birthday or Merry Christmas like a father treating you like a punching bag.

I would be on the bus on the way home from school and be scared to death to arrive at my stop. My stomach would be in knots and I would try to hide my tears from the other students. I didn't want to go home. I much rather stay at school and do work for the rest of my life than go home. Home was unsafe! I never knew what type of mood my Father would be in. Would he even be home? And if he wasn't home was he hiding in the woods to watch what we do while we think were alone? When I arrive home would he be angry because he had heard something I have done that he didn't approve of? What do I expect when I walk in that door? Our house was at the end of a dead end road and that walk home was the longest walk it seemed like. My heart beating 100 miles per hour with each step I took closer and closer to the house. My mother most of the time worked out of the home because my dad could never keep a constant income. So I knew the hours would be long when she finally would make it home. Most of the time we didn't have a telephone. So if something did happen I couldn't call my mom to ask her to rush home. When we did have a phone my father threaten that he had the phone tapped to where he could hear every call we made. I knew if I was to call my mom to ask her to come home that she would be next to be punished for taking up for me.

As I grew older I had a weird hunch that I was being watched when I was in my room and in the shower. I kept trying to tell myself it was all in my head but as days went by and the more I developed (which happened rather fast for me) I would notice things. Odd things. We would have random holes in our blinds in our room. I couldn't stop having a feeling that I was being watched. My mom would take the blinds down and put up a thick blanket. The next day... those would have holes in them too. One day I happened to look at the right time and I could see through the hole. There was my dad watching me as I was drying off and getting dressed after a shower. I couldn't let him know that I knew. I had to always pretend to be oblivious or I would pay the consequence. I would try to get dressed in the bathroom instead of my room or go in my closet to change. Well guess where there ended up holes at next... the bathroom blinds. I couldn't escape what was happening and had to deal with it. I was to scared to tell my mom or anyone else. My dad was a very known person in the small town we lived in and everyone told him everything! If I breathed he would know! There would be nights I would wake up to my father hanging over me. I don't know what he did while I was sleeping. But when I would scream out of being frightened my mom would come in and he would play it off by holding a mask and telling my mom he was just trying to play a trick on me and scared me. I COULD NOT EVEN SLEEP WITHOUT WORRYING I WAS BEING EVADED.

I tried to have a boyfriend during the years but I was always scared my father would find out. He would search my backpack on most days when I came home to see if he could find any "love" letters. If he found one he would read it and then I got the belt or whatever he could find at the time. It wasn't that he was punishing me for "having a boyfriend at my age". He was jealous of me having a boyfriend in a sick sick way! A way that no father should ever think of their daughter.

The Middle school Principal that never liked him dating and being married to my mother, yes she was my mom's Principal too would allow my dad to come up to the school and search my locker for anything he could use to be mad at me. She then let him call me to the office and take me home. This was the only place I felt safe! The people that were suppose to protect me! Everyone in the town knew how my father was and NEVER did anything to stop him.

I didn't get to go many places like most kids did. I wasn't allowed to go to friends houses or have sleep overs. The only time I got to was to people my dad knew well and they would tell him anything I did while I was there. I wanted to have friends come to my house but was always embarrassed and nervous of something happening while they were there... and it did.


I had two babysitters (that I know of) that I found out he cheated on my mom with while they were "babysitting" us. One told me point blank while showing me her diary. She was barely much older than me.

I want to make it clear that there is a lot of talk about ME. I had two younger sisters. One who partially remembers things that happened growing up. The other who is so oblivious to what was going on because she was so young. She was a daddies girl and still to this day is no matter how much she will deny it. I understand though. She doesn't remember. I'm glad she doesn't have those memories of him. I hardly ever remember my sisters getting anything close to what I got from my dad. For some reason I was the one who got all the beatings and other things. I was fine with that though. I had to protect my sisters and if they did something to make him mad I would tell him it was me who did it.

One day my dad had found another letter of mine from a boy. He told me to go get in the shower. He made me leave the door cracked so he could see in the mirror. I could see him through the mirror as well staring at me while I tried to shower. He was not dressed. When I went to get out of the shower more things happened that I will never be able to get out of my head... He left after I fought him off of me. I called my mom and cried and begged for her to come home. He had told me before leaving that if I was to tell anyone he would kill me. I didn't tell my mom once she got home. I just played it off and kept quite. For two days I didn't tell anyone... One day in band class I told one of my friends who I thought I could trust. She ran and told a friend of the family that worked at the school. I was so mad at her at the time for telling but if she wouldn't then I don't know how much longer things would have gone on. The lady that worked at the school came and pulled me out of the class took me in the custodial room and asked me about it. I told her no at first it wasn't true but she asked again and I couldn't help but to let it all out finally. She sent me back to class after I cleaned my face all up. Then after an hour or so I was pulled out of class again. I was told to wait in the counselors office. I believe they made a call to my mom and made her come to the school for me to tell her everything. Then police escorted us home and told us to pack what we can in 10 minutes and to leave to go somewhere safe. I was so terrified that he would come home while we were packing as many times he would and make us stay to where we couldn't leave. But not this time.

We left and went to my Granny's house where we always would go. He would find us and track us down like he always did. And he did! For a year and half we had to keep dealing with him coming back time after time and we would call the police every time. My mom told me she would never go back but one day he convinced her to try again. He took us from my Granny's house. My Granny tried her best to keep me there, even called the police but they told her she couldn't do anything. I had to go with them. We stayed at a hotel for a week and half. He swore he changed and he was better. But it didn't last even two weeks. We eventually made our way back to my Granny's house. Soon moved into our own house in a town close by my Granny and tried to start over. We did start over. He would show up every now and then and try to hurt us again. I would run next door to call the cops every time. This went on for a year or more....

More to continue in next post.