:::::: "I can't breath! Please don't kill me! I'm pregnant!!"
The pillow is lifted off my face...eyes the size of marbles.....
Suddenly, my underwear is on the bed and he has scissors. He is cutting the crotch out of all of my underwear except for a few matronly ones and throws them at me. I'm dizzy.
I start to scream. I'm called a fat slut. I feel a blunt object in the back of my head and then...lights out
He's paranoid again. (a fucking vicious cycle) ::::::::::
Bastard!
I went out on a limb after being gay since I was 12 and decided to make an attempt to conform to society by jumping into a heterosexual relationship. 5 months later I was pregnant. I know it sounds strange but after his father begged me for a grandchild, he eventually got his wish. Everyone was so damn excited. I was petrified and happy at the same time. In the back of my mind I questioned myself on my decision to procreate with the father. I went through a checklist and decided that it could have been worse. Home, Car, Job...yeah...we'd be fine.
I started to get really excited. Morning sickness was a bitch but I dealt with it. I began to read every baby book known to man to make sure I was doing everything right. A week later, there was an accident. I was called to the hospital. My son's father had lost 3 fingers in a work accident. It was tough. He had phantom limb syndrome and was in so much pain. But the worst? He was prescribed Oxycontin (not Oxycodone) for the pain. I was all for it at first...I mean he lost part of his hand. What I didn't know was that he was secretly an addict...not just pills...everything your brain can wrap itself around...he did.
Bastard!
He started chewing the pills up and taking too many. Then he went to the Dr. for back pain and he was doing what we call "Dr. Shopping." The pills were pouring in from every direction. He sold a few to buy other drugs too. I slowly realized I never knew his dark side.
The abuse began when I was 4 months pregnant. I was knocked down so hard I thought the baby was hurt. I was treated like shit until one day we were pulled over and I found out that he had an ACTIVE warrant out for his arrest? Who is this person? Once I found out, his paranoia got so bad he locked me in a room the size of a closet and only allowed to come out to use the bathroom or ask for a meal. Was this the same person? He was taken away to jail a few weeks later when they busted him for dealing drugs to an undercover officer. It wasn't until a month before the baby arrived (early) that he was released. He seamed much calmer and wanted to straighten up. I told him it was his second chance and I will leave if it happens again. I meant it. The baby arrived, and it only took 4 months. He threw me out of a car and since my only family member I had was out of town until the next day I asked to drive and suggested that he relax (didn't know what to say). I forced him to apologize and went home, all banged up to hell, and went to bed. The next day he threw a very large hard toy at my head and I was knocked out again. Angrily, I gathered my stuff and went to work. What he didn't know that I had managed to keep part of my paychecks away from him and was setting up the perfect time to leave.
Sometimes there isn't a perfect time....
Bastard
At the end of my shift I couldn't find my car. I reported it to the security guard and requested a call to the police. Before my dad landed from the airport, got my hysterical message, and made it to my work I had been sitting outside crying for at least an hour. Right before Dad arrived I received a creepy phone call, "I took the car. I put the baby in a Taxi without a car seat, then I called a locksmith, and I found your hidden ATM card. I took all of the money out of your account and took the baby to go buy Crack. Whatcha gonna do about it BITCH?
*Click* The phone goes dead and at this point I am hyperventilating and having somewhat of an outer body experience freak out.
Bastard
::::Fast Forward again::::
The police met Dad, me, and his wife in a separate car at a local clothing store. We came up with a plan to just raid the home. The house that I had decorated, painted, and made a beautiful place for a baby. But that house was not where we were meant to be. We were meant to be safe (not like punching bags). My son was still so tiny. So in 45 minutes we bagged up all that we could and bolted while the cops climbed under the house to catch him....he escaped. It wasn't until many months later that he was locked up for a year and a half. By that time I was able to establish a life for myself and my son.
He moved on after jail as well, got married, had another son, etc. But old habits die hard!
Now: He has no relationship with my son. My son is 7 now. No more Christmas or birthday calls...no letters. My son told me one day he thought I was worthless. I can't believe my kid felt that way let alone articulate it. My poor sweet baby...I had to think fast....
I told him that his dad was sick. I told him he was gone for 90 days to get medical attention and I told him that when he hides in the bathroom he was "getting" sick. I stopped all visits immediately. I found out there was dog feces, a lack of food, and no bed for my son to sleep on. I really thought that rehab was his rock bottom.
Nope.
Vicious cycle.
Guess what? Bastard
Now he has a warrant for his arrest. Sound familiar? My son doesn't know. It's irrelevant.
He is using again. EVERYTHING. Dirty needles, meth, coke, crack, methadone, heroin, you name it and he is on it. Completely wreckless and living in his damn car. A few days went by and kiddo asked about his dad daily. No phone call. After a few weeks he began to ask if he would receive a letter of some sort and after months, he doesn't ask at all. In fact, he cringes if someone brings it up and changes the subject. He is over the moon to say with confidence, "I have a mommy #1 and a mommy #2." Lovely!
Tears of pain. Tears of joy. Tears of mental anguish. Tears of elation. But not one tear was shed over meeting my son's father. Sometimes you endure pain to receive a blessing. A smart, witty, blessing.
So there we have it.
My child.........................is......................a...........bastard.
Thankfully yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
PTSD: Get Out of My Brain!
Hmmm...that news article looks interesting...let's take a look...
(As I read) I wonder why my heart is pounding? I'm completely relaxed. I was in good company tonight. Did I take my meds on time? Yep. Perfect. My heart feels funny. This article is really good and I can completely relate to it.
I think I am having a panic attack. What time is it? Where am I?
I close my eyes and I am no longer in my home. I open my eyes and I am. So, I am not blacking out, hallucinating, etc. This must be a memory. So, I close my eyes again and I realize I am in my grandmother's old house. I am about 6 years old and I am playing in the spare bedroom that no one goes in too often. It smells kind of dusty. I am laying on a bed on my stomach playing with some old toys my dad used to play with when he was a kid. She saved almost all of the toys. The toys were some army toys, a bunch of minature telephones and one large rotary phone. It was a marigold like color. One of the little phones was baby blue (wow I just remembered that).
::I am the oldest female in the new generation of family members. My cousin, he, is the oldest::
As I play with my toys I realize that I am not alone. We are playing together. It's fun. We are talking into the little phones and then hanging up and answering a different one. We are giggling. After all, I am only 6 and he is 9 (I think) maybe 10 or 11.
Our family was in the kitchen cooking...we are Italian so that means 9 people crammed into a tiny kitchen arguing while then men watch football.
Next, he suggests this weird game that I vaguely remember. Something about answering the phone and if I answer the one that he was thinking of I win. The prize was a kiss. "OK," I said. After all, I have seen family members do that so big deal. Right? Well finally I win...or something...my memory is a blur. He leans in and gives me a kiss. I turn my cheek for a family friendly kiss on the cheek.
Ummmm....yeah....that wasn't the plan and this is where the following gets really difficult to share (in fact, this is the 14th hour and 3 panic attacks since I began typing).
He leaned his head in and kissed me on the mouth. I giggled uncomfortably and was urged to keep on playing. The door was closed. The game continued. The roles were changed and I was asked to kiss him. Again, I went for the cheek (remembr I am 6 and I don't quite know what is "appropriate"). He turned his head and lightly grabbed the back of mine. His lips were wet. He kissed me again and again. No tounge. Then we go back to being silly and playing the game. Only this time the large telephone was incorporated into the game. More kissing. I push back. I feel uncomfortable...
The following is a bit explicit. Also, I am not quite sure what sparked this.
He became angry with me and told me that I made him sad and disappointed. Then....he reached for the large phone......grabbed the handle and simultaneously (firmly) placed me on my back.....opened my legs slightly and started ramming me in the crotch with the phone...multiple times...he told me I liked it....it was brief and then it finally ended...I didn't yell because he told me I liked it. Why? WHY? Why did I like this?
He left the room and told me to clean up my toys. I did. I was NOT the perfect kid but I knew my parents would be upset with me if I didn't clean up my toys. I had a few tears in my eyes; however, the confusion superseded all other emotion. Why my crotch? Hmmmm...other than going potty, I don't quite understand the purpose of my crotch. That kissing thing was really odd. I want to tell someone. I see married people kiss on the lips but not kids....
"Mommy...Daddy...." (later that evening in private) "My cousin kissed me." I said. "Awww...how nice dear...he loves you." mom said. "Is that why it was on the lips a lot?" I whimpered. "What?! NO. I don't know what he was thinking...that's not right." mom said. ::Dad whispered:: "Don't freak out in front of her...it will scare her." he said. "Don't let that happen again!" Mom yelled.
Great. I did something wrong and they are mad at me.
After that, I didn't see him. As the years progressed, an incident that just seemed odd at the time, the thoughts began to fade away. However, when I was 14 and visiting my uncle, he was there for the summer. I was spending the weekend with my uncle because my parents were having some adult time I suppose. My cousin immediately had a sparkle in his eye. By that time, I was developed and beginning to look like a woman. The second we were alone he grabbed a magazine and opened it up to a page with a bunch of submissive girls on their knees, stuff on their face, and a penis. He asked me if I had started giving boys my age blow jobs yet and if I liked it. (I was cornered and this happened very quickly). I walked away and told him to leave me alone. "I am not about to talk about this bullshit with my cousin."
A few hours later when I was alone again gettig ready in the guest room for the family to go somewhere. I heard some rap music. I'm not against any type of music. I just had never heard that song before. I stepped outside of the guest room and he was listening to some hardcore song about blow jobs and he was rubbing and massaging his crotch...I immediately turned for the bathroom and vomitted...he got the picture....and stayed away from me. He has continued to not contact me for the rest of my life...thank GOD.
NOW: I knew that he had tried to kiss me and I thought he was a weirdo. That was the only "imprint" left in my mind. Last night, I was reading an article about how self mutilation sometimes stems from childhood molestation, trauma, or any other abuse. I truly thought that my PTSD began with some horrible experiences I had when I was a late teen. I had no idea that this entire scenario had occured. LITERALLY, my brain spewed these thoughts out like an explosive. I couldn't stop it. It was like my brain said, "WAIT you need to know the whole story for once in your life."
I am in absolute shock. I was completely incapacitated today. I am not quite sure where to go from here. I am very thankful that this memory triggered when I was at home and not alone. We were able to take all the sharp objects out of the house and properly medicate me. Afterwards, my wife hid all of the medication. She did agree to leave me a few extra xanax, which is a first, but she knew immediately that this was the most devastating realization in my life. I was sodomized until I bled by a yellow rotary phone. There really is no point in pressing charges 21 years later, or even upsetting my parents. It is what it is. Maybe this acknowledgement of when the abuse began will help me move forward and maybe it won't. I have NO IDEA where to go from here except for the obvious...therapy. Now, I will be honest. I should probably be comitted after this trigger. I have not been able to control my breathing since I woke up this morning and I am freaking out but I am not suicidal. I have asked myself all day if I should commit myself again or not. As it stands right now, I am going to sleep on it, I guess. I literally keep seeing that phone everywhere I go. It is in every room. If I close my eyes, I see the phone. I can't escape it. Thank GOD cell phones don't look like rotary phones (lol). Otherwise I would be attacking everyone and their phones.
I went through EMDR if you have ever heard of it, you know that lasts about a year and you are supposed to go back to where it all began. Unfortunately, the trauma began before I remembered. Obviously EMDR did not work for me even though it works for a lot of people.
Man, I can't shake this. I am literally devastated right now!
In closing, I hope this helps someone and I hope this helps me cope too. All I am able to do is invest in is hope at this point.
100% truthfully yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
(As I read) I wonder why my heart is pounding? I'm completely relaxed. I was in good company tonight. Did I take my meds on time? Yep. Perfect. My heart feels funny. This article is really good and I can completely relate to it.
I think I am having a panic attack. What time is it? Where am I?
I close my eyes and I am no longer in my home. I open my eyes and I am. So, I am not blacking out, hallucinating, etc. This must be a memory. So, I close my eyes again and I realize I am in my grandmother's old house. I am about 6 years old and I am playing in the spare bedroom that no one goes in too often. It smells kind of dusty. I am laying on a bed on my stomach playing with some old toys my dad used to play with when he was a kid. She saved almost all of the toys. The toys were some army toys, a bunch of minature telephones and one large rotary phone. It was a marigold like color. One of the little phones was baby blue (wow I just remembered that).
::I am the oldest female in the new generation of family members. My cousin, he, is the oldest::
As I play with my toys I realize that I am not alone. We are playing together. It's fun. We are talking into the little phones and then hanging up and answering a different one. We are giggling. After all, I am only 6 and he is 9 (I think) maybe 10 or 11.
Our family was in the kitchen cooking...we are Italian so that means 9 people crammed into a tiny kitchen arguing while then men watch football.
Next, he suggests this weird game that I vaguely remember. Something about answering the phone and if I answer the one that he was thinking of I win. The prize was a kiss. "OK," I said. After all, I have seen family members do that so big deal. Right? Well finally I win...or something...my memory is a blur. He leans in and gives me a kiss. I turn my cheek for a family friendly kiss on the cheek.
Ummmm....yeah....that wasn't the plan and this is where the following gets really difficult to share (in fact, this is the 14th hour and 3 panic attacks since I began typing).
He leaned his head in and kissed me on the mouth. I giggled uncomfortably and was urged to keep on playing. The door was closed. The game continued. The roles were changed and I was asked to kiss him. Again, I went for the cheek (remembr I am 6 and I don't quite know what is "appropriate"). He turned his head and lightly grabbed the back of mine. His lips were wet. He kissed me again and again. No tounge. Then we go back to being silly and playing the game. Only this time the large telephone was incorporated into the game. More kissing. I push back. I feel uncomfortable...
The following is a bit explicit. Also, I am not quite sure what sparked this.
He became angry with me and told me that I made him sad and disappointed. Then....he reached for the large phone......grabbed the handle and simultaneously (firmly) placed me on my back.....opened my legs slightly and started ramming me in the crotch with the phone...multiple times...he told me I liked it....it was brief and then it finally ended...I didn't yell because he told me I liked it. Why? WHY? Why did I like this?
He left the room and told me to clean up my toys. I did. I was NOT the perfect kid but I knew my parents would be upset with me if I didn't clean up my toys. I had a few tears in my eyes; however, the confusion superseded all other emotion. Why my crotch? Hmmmm...other than going potty, I don't quite understand the purpose of my crotch. That kissing thing was really odd. I want to tell someone. I see married people kiss on the lips but not kids....
"Mommy...Daddy...." (later that evening in private) "My cousin kissed me." I said. "Awww...how nice dear...he loves you." mom said. "Is that why it was on the lips a lot?" I whimpered. "What?! NO. I don't know what he was thinking...that's not right." mom said. ::Dad whispered:: "Don't freak out in front of her...it will scare her." he said. "Don't let that happen again!" Mom yelled.
Great. I did something wrong and they are mad at me.
After that, I didn't see him. As the years progressed, an incident that just seemed odd at the time, the thoughts began to fade away. However, when I was 14 and visiting my uncle, he was there for the summer. I was spending the weekend with my uncle because my parents were having some adult time I suppose. My cousin immediately had a sparkle in his eye. By that time, I was developed and beginning to look like a woman. The second we were alone he grabbed a magazine and opened it up to a page with a bunch of submissive girls on their knees, stuff on their face, and a penis. He asked me if I had started giving boys my age blow jobs yet and if I liked it. (I was cornered and this happened very quickly). I walked away and told him to leave me alone. "I am not about to talk about this bullshit with my cousin."
A few hours later when I was alone again gettig ready in the guest room for the family to go somewhere. I heard some rap music. I'm not against any type of music. I just had never heard that song before. I stepped outside of the guest room and he was listening to some hardcore song about blow jobs and he was rubbing and massaging his crotch...I immediately turned for the bathroom and vomitted...he got the picture....and stayed away from me. He has continued to not contact me for the rest of my life...thank GOD.
NOW: I knew that he had tried to kiss me and I thought he was a weirdo. That was the only "imprint" left in my mind. Last night, I was reading an article about how self mutilation sometimes stems from childhood molestation, trauma, or any other abuse. I truly thought that my PTSD began with some horrible experiences I had when I was a late teen. I had no idea that this entire scenario had occured. LITERALLY, my brain spewed these thoughts out like an explosive. I couldn't stop it. It was like my brain said, "WAIT you need to know the whole story for once in your life."
I am in absolute shock. I was completely incapacitated today. I am not quite sure where to go from here. I am very thankful that this memory triggered when I was at home and not alone. We were able to take all the sharp objects out of the house and properly medicate me. Afterwards, my wife hid all of the medication. She did agree to leave me a few extra xanax, which is a first, but she knew immediately that this was the most devastating realization in my life. I was sodomized until I bled by a yellow rotary phone. There really is no point in pressing charges 21 years later, or even upsetting my parents. It is what it is. Maybe this acknowledgement of when the abuse began will help me move forward and maybe it won't. I have NO IDEA where to go from here except for the obvious...therapy. Now, I will be honest. I should probably be comitted after this trigger. I have not been able to control my breathing since I woke up this morning and I am freaking out but I am not suicidal. I have asked myself all day if I should commit myself again or not. As it stands right now, I am going to sleep on it, I guess. I literally keep seeing that phone everywhere I go. It is in every room. If I close my eyes, I see the phone. I can't escape it. Thank GOD cell phones don't look like rotary phones (lol). Otherwise I would be attacking everyone and their phones.
I went through EMDR if you have ever heard of it, you know that lasts about a year and you are supposed to go back to where it all began. Unfortunately, the trauma began before I remembered. Obviously EMDR did not work for me even though it works for a lot of people.
Man, I can't shake this. I am literally devastated right now!
In closing, I hope this helps someone and I hope this helps me cope too. All I am able to do is invest in is hope at this point.
100% truthfully yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
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