trying to write it out in bits and pieces

Things get overwelming sometines in life. Sometimes they just feel like too much too handle. But yet there is always some hope somewhere. There is always someone somewhere out there who is willing to offer you help even if that help is some encouragement. Alls I have ever needed in my life is people to care about and love me. I have need to be shown by people I matter and that my life is worth something. My parents never showed me that. My parents showed my siblings that to vary degrees but did not really show them that fully either.




My father was never really in my life and when he was he was high. When he did want us to spend time over his house we were there to clean, take care of his second family, go out and pick trash for cans so he could turn them in for money to buy his marijuana, and for us to be seen and not heard unless spoken to. He taught us that women were nothing and men were GOD's. He taught us to fight and snet us to fight with neighbors children when him and his neighbors had difficulties. But for the most part he was not really in my life when I was young. That was more from the ages of 12-15. when I was young and in the system he came to visit me when I was in residential at St. Anns Home very few times and at times when he was supposed to visit and had set visits up he would not show up.



My mom has always physcially been in my life but never really been there emotionally and mentally. I more needed her emotionally than I needed her physically I believe. Her fake care physically in front of social workers and therapist didnot make up for her lack of care emotionally and mentally when I came home when I was 11 and she was emotionally, mentally. and physcially abuseive towards me more than any of the other kids. I was the oldest of the 4 of us and maybe I should have the most responsibilties but I was still a child not the parent, not her boyfriends sex partner when she was not home and working nights, not the slave to do the dishes all the time or clean the house, and not the one responsible for all the fuckups whenever something went wrong. But I was the one who ended up with the consequences from most of it most ofthe time. I was the target of most of her anger. Though her boyfriend stepped inbetween her and I when she was physically abusing me at times and it caused them more arguments i paid a bigger price for it with his sexual abuse. Though at the time I did not recognize it and just knew it felt good, I needed someone to love me, and he seemed to care about me. Though i knew it should not be happening and was wrong for an adult to be with a child or young teenage gir I said nothing. In a way it feels as if it was my fault. I was in therapy and had opportunity to disclose and stop it but did not. instead I let it happen. Instead I felt as if I had to keep letting it happen even during the times i did not want it to happen and it did not feel good because he protected me, gave me things, and stuck up for me with my mom when she was abusing me physically. But he could not stop her emotinal and mental abuse which is what has harmed me most. Even to this day her words still echo in mind alot when I make decisions in my life. Her words still effect my life regularly. She will still at times tell me i am stupid when I make my mind up to do something she disagrees with or she does not want me to do. Or she tells me why dont you want to look nice if i cut my hair or do not wear the clothes she wants me to wear. Sometimes if feels as if nothing I do will ever satisify her or make her happy. I will never be able to make her proud of me and I can never make her love and care about me.





I will continue this later.....

Feeling Words in Use

Feeling Words in Use

post from few weeks ago about people messing with my head

wishing people would stop fucking with my head and if they did not want me to trust them and want me to just keep the wallsup then say so. They do not have to feel incompetant or tell me they are afraid they are incapable of dealing with things if they help open them...They do not really have to deal with SHIT!!! I DO...No One Else!!! its all good the trust is gone now...screw it I never needed anyone in these 31 years and have been able to survive and hold these secrets within me without completely breaking I can keep doing it for another 14 years. I wish people really understood what their words do to me and how much I obsess over things they say. I wish they realized what ABANDONMENT is for me and how I perceive things as being abandoned by everyone in my life up until now and now I think I am completely feeling as if I truly deserve to be abandoned and do not need ANYONE for any reason. Why try as hard as they do to get me to open my self up and trust them only for them to basically want me to shut up and keep it all inside. Why did they work through the barriers only to close them back up with 10 times more shit to work back through to get back to the point where we were a week ago. Why did they just want me to stay closed up and never to speak a word about. KEEP THE SILENCE is what they desire well I will keep it to myself and never trust another living soul for as long as I continue breathing and my heart keeps producing blood. I will never trust again. I am done with letting people in and letting them get close. I am closing myself off to all you have to say and all they desire me to talk to them about. My secrets are safe within me!!!!

Incest (A Nation’s Shame) | Authspot

Incest (A Nation’s Shame) | Authspot

post from another blog i wrote may 18 2008

What I remember of my sexual abuse
i am in a trauma recovery group and we are into the difficult part of the group where we are working on our abuse issues and i have not been doing my health work because i have not wanted to rehash this shit lately but i guess i really need to deal with some of it other wise i will just have wasted my time and everyone elses time in this group and not really gotten anywhere by doing the group and not working on me. last week was to write our life story on our physical abuse we endured in our life and i didnt do it but i will try to start with what i am supposed to be doing this week and go back and do that another time...well here goes i guess.............................................................................................................. .......................................................................................................................



It started when i was young not to sure of what age really but i do know that what i have been told is i was around 4 years old. My fathers brother david molested me and my brother...i was around 6 years old when my brother told otherwse i am sure it would have continued since he molested many of my cousins even his own children, my mother when she was a teenager even after she was with my father...she had me when she was 16 and he had been molesting her before she had me and after so i really dont understand why she would leave me and my brother alone with him knowing what he did...there is not much of it i remeber from back then but there are very slight pieces of things i remeber like his face and him giving me change after he did what he did...he would have me rub him in his genital area and he put his penis in my mouth...there are times when i see him standing over me and it seems like it is happening only it isnt...i never remebered any details of what happened until the past year and half when i guess after finding out my daughter was molested by my husband bits and pieces of this started occuring and it has been difficult...it all stopped once my brother told and we were put into foster care not long after all that shit came out but i never talked about it and just didnt remember...then after i came home from residential when i was 11 almost 12 my mother had a boyfriend at some point that she wasnt with long and they broke up when he went back to his wife but we were living in bradford on south pleasant street and i had my own room and i believe it happened on 2 occasions where he came in there when he was drinking he would start to rub me between my legs...i could smell the alcohol on his breathe and he would tell me how much i looked like my mom...i dont really think that affected me much because it wasnt a major event in my life it was very brief and i dont feel it had an impact on me...when i was 12 my mother was dating my fathers brother stephan...It was a saturday afternoon and my mother was at work. i was laying on her bed in her bedroom which at the time was the room next to mine.we were living on 11th ave...i was watching a movie and i am not sure where my 2 brothers were or my sister but stephan had come home early from work not really sure why. as i layed there he came and layed on the bed next to me which did not make me uncomfortable at that moment...when he began touching my breast area and slowly moved down to my genitals i became frozen...i knew what was going on was wrong i knew he shouldnt have been touching me but i was scared and nervious...for some reason i could not do anything or say anything to make him stop i was frozen for a moment and i remeber it actually felt okay he told me after he was done and i had jerked him off not to ever tell anyone or he would get into trouble and he asked me if i wanted to get him into trouble and i said no he then made me promise i wasnt going to tell anyone and i promised not to. he then gave me cigarrettes and a 10 dollar bill...i remeber i had to tell my mother that i found the money while at the park on the next street over...so many times he gave me money after we did things it became like he was paying me to have sex with him but at the time i didnt realize that...he always reminded me to keep this our secret and never to tell anyone...he began to favor me over the other kids and when my mother would hit me he would protect me from her by saying something to her to get her to stop hurting me...i felt he cared and that he would protect me because i felt i was important to him and i mattered...there were many nights when my mother was working that he would come to my room and have sex with me and at times i remeber enjoying it...he always told me how pretty i was and he constantly talked through the sex and had me talk to him dirty during it and i did he would say for me to tell im what i wanted and i would tell him fuck me or harder and i was just a fucked up teenager learning all this shit from porn movies he would watch with me or from him a 42 year old man...then i got pregnant with my sone at the age of 14 until corey was born i was so scared after finding out i was pregnant and thinking people were now going to find out and he just kept telling me not to say anything or the baby would be taken from me and he continued this but my son wasnt his...i had had sex with a guy that lived with my father a few times and i also had sex with several other men who i didnt know i would go to parks and watch men that were alone...i would make sexual gestures and expressions to them to seduce them i had become a whore by the age of 14...then my son was born and the sex neevr stopped between stephan and i even after i was tried killing myself when my son was 6 weeks old...i was put into the hospital and then into a residential in rowley where i would get passes to go home and he would pick me up and drive me home or drive me back and he would stop somewhere on the way and i would suck his dick or we would have sex and i still felt like he cared and that even though it shouldnt be happening i continued to do it...then there were the times i was in the psychiatric hospital when he would have sex with me on the way back to the hospital from pass which is the last time anything happened with him when i finally told someone at the mcleans hospital after cutting myself when getting back...we had pulled over into a the dark corner of a hotel parking lot on the way back to the hospital and we had sex and then he dropped me off...there were many nights in those 4 years that even when i didnmt want it he pressured me into doing something with him but it also became like just a part of myy life...my mother went to work and i fucked her boyfriend...there were the times when he came into the shower while i was showering and so many times i just dont remember...there are so much in my life at that time that most of those 4 years i dont remember...even when i had sex with my mothers friends husband it was like i couldnt say no i would just do it to get it over with because he wanted it...i dont remeber a whole lot about details but i do remeber some and i guess this is just the beginnign of it because there is just so much that happened and i times i dont remeber anything then other times i remeber more but right now i just feel like blocked and cant remember a whole lot more than this

I am no good I have always been only wanted for sexual pleasure to others no matter what I feel

"Prostitution describes the act of sexual intercourse in exchange for money. However, its definition may be extended loosely to include any sexual act for any type of compensation."

I have struggle with this for so long. When I was younger I participated in sex and sexual activities with many different grown men. From a young age I could very much be considered a prostitute as I was paid by grown men small amounts of money and gifts. I also received special treatment and protection for sexual acts with my mothers boyfriend who was also my fathers brother. He was the main man that paid me to have sex with him repeatedly from the ages 12-16 when I finally told someone. although I had also had sex with strangers who I did not know before him in the local park, under bridges, and behind buildings. I looked for the attention from men and used my body as a way to be loved and cared for even though I did not know them. They would buy me cigarrettes or give me a few dollars but not more than $10.

The very first time I could have been considered a prostitute was when my fathers other brother not the one my mother dated molested me at the ages of 4-6 years old and gave me dimes to put my mouth on his penis. Back then I did not know it was wrong so maybe that was not really prostitution but when I was 12 and his other brother who was my mothers boyfriend began to touch me and offered me money and cigarrettes I knew what he was doing to my body was wrong but I also was afraid. I somewhat liked the attention i received from him. I also like how he would protect me from my mother when he could as she physically aggressively abused me.

There were times when I did not enjoy it or did not want it. I pretended to be sleeping many times and he still did things and got his pleasure out of me. There were times when I wanted it. There were also times when I did not want it but just gave in because he would not leave me alone and I felt stuck and trapped. I was very confused during those years as alls I was looking for was to be loved and I wanted someone to care about me no matter what I had to do to get them to show me love and really care about me. There were many times I layed there and spaced out after the first few minutes of his sexual acts. There are many things I have blocked out from those days.

I recently had an experience now being 31 years old that a man offered me cash to have sex with him and I kept saying I did not do that. I continued to tell him I did not want to do it but continued to be pressured and began to do what he wanted. While starting to do this I had a hard time and stopped. I did not want to do it but he continued pressuring me and tried to force me to do more and have intercourse with him but finally stopped after my continued disinterest and my stopping the oral act. He then told a bunch of guys, that were at the place where this all happened in the bathroom at a supposed friends house, that I choked on his penis and other stuff about my genital parts. That same night one of the other men began grabbing my breasts and kept trying to rub between my legs. Finally I left and got away from the situation only after he told me how he was going to get in my pants and he wanted my body specifically he wanted my "pussy" and all sorts of derogatory sexual remarks about acts he was going to use me for. I did not receive any money for any of his violating behavior and did not want any money as I feel that would justify his behaviors just as I feel about my participation in the acts I was involved with for protection, money, and cigarettes as a teenager and young little girl. I sometimes, well almost all the time feel i was the one who was wrong because i accepted payement for the mens acts with me and I knew what they were doing to me was wrong and should not be happening but was not able to or did not want to tell anyone what was going on and expose the secrets we kept. All this reminded me of my younger years and brought up alot for me as I now believe I was a whore and still am. I believe I am destined to be a mans property to use my body the way they wish.

A few days after all this the man that was grabbing me and talking dirty to me came to my house and as we were talk he grabbed my breasts and then shoved his hand in my shorts. I continued to tell him to stop and knock it off. I told him to leave me alone but he did not he continued to fondle me. It kinda felt good like when I was a teenager and my mothers boyfriend did it to me but I did not want it. Because he would not stop right away i ebgan spacing out just as I did when I was younger. I feel so dirty. I feel violated. This man is someone I see alot as he lives near me and I have to pass his house before I get to my house there is no avoiding his house. Just as it was when I was young I feel trapped, alone, I kinda like someone wanting my body as I am ugly and disgusting and not many men do want anything to do with me. I am confused. it has brought up my child and teenage years and I am having difficulties with it.

My Shame Runs Deeper than I Thought

I had therapy today and although I have been seeing her for just over 4 years and my therapist has been there for me through the hardest things I could have gone through in my life I am still too ashamed of somethings that I cannot look at her or discuss these painful things with her.

I also thought that the internet was my way to letting out these shameful secrets but unfortuanately I have been unable to get them out of me. I have exposed somethings but those are the easiest for me to let people know. The harder more ashamed secrets within me are buried and the more things that happen that remind me of them or that make me more ashamed of myself and my secrets continue to build and I continue to be unable to expose my shameful secrets. I am just too ashamed of myself and my actions to be able to face them and expose them to anyone not even the sole person I trust that is in my life right now, my therapist.