The Nightmare That Lasted Forever

It happens when I least expect it, flashbacks flood my every being, I feel as if I have been sucked into a tunnel and cannot find my way out.  Flashbacks from my childhood, about my adult hood, marraiges that crumbled, and my whole life seems to pass before me.  There is nothing I can do to stop the thoughts so I just give in to them, cry, get angry and feel so overwhelmed I want to scream.  Sometimes I want to run and hide, maybe start a new life somewhere that no one knows me, and pretend that I am normal and I had a happy life.  Other times I just want to shout it from the roof tops to anyone that will listen.  That is what I am doing here, it took me several months, maybe even  a couple of years to decide to write a blog using my name.  

In school I was not just shy, I was withdrawn, all alone, felt wierd and was called wierd at times.  The days seemed to run together and I felt like I was in a fog, not knowing who I really was, why I was here, what I was suppose to do, or say.  At home I took every moment that I could to be alone,  to try to find some peace and quiet, there was so much chaos.  It seems as if it was all the time, but I know that it wasn’t there were happy times, when we all laughed and played and were normal, I guess if anyone in this world is actually normal. 

The nightmare as I recall all began when I was seven and we had moved from Florida to Alabama, when I was in the second grade and my mom and dad had friends that they went out with.  I remember the family name but I do not remember the monster who violated me and made me afraid, I can remember everything he did to me, and where, but for the life of me I cannot remember his face.  Somtimes I think if I could just remember his face and his name I could overcome the pain of what he did to me.  Every where I went I was afraid, at home, at school,  in my bed at night I was so terrified that a monster was hiding under my bed and was going to get me while I slept, hence, my insommnia began.  Fear was always present, at school I was afraid to talk to anyone, afraid that they would know what I did.  When my parents went out this monster came over to baby sit my three brothers and I, he did things that I didn’t know about before, I was always so afraid my parents were going to find out, I felt ashamed, embarassed and felt that I had done something horrible.  If I could have been invisible I would have, all I wanted was to disappear, I wanted to get away from this horrible nightmare that seemed to go on and on.  I felt so dirty, it was all I could think about, if I thought about anything at all.  At school I would cry because I was so scared and felt so alone, I didn’t talk to anyone I just stayed by myself.  My older brother who is two years older than me would find me at recess, I would be hiding in a corner in the hallway drinking my chocolate milk and crying that I wanted to go home, I didn’t want to be there.  He would try to comfort me, he would hug me and say “I love you, sissy.”  That is what my family called me, especially my older brother, it was a special name to me it made me feel like I was connected to someone.  It is so hard to convey the lonliness that I felt, no matter who was around or where I was.  Fear and lonliness became my best friends, eventually as I got older I learned how to cope with the lonliness, I became to enjoy being alone and preferred it to being around people.  When I was alone I didn’t have to make other people happy and I didn’t have to pretend like everything was ok, I didn’t feel like I was under a microscope and everyone was looking at me and talking about me. 

Finally a year passed and we moved away from Alabama, I breathed a sigh of relief to myself, my nightmare was finally over.  No one knew but me, as far as I knew my brothers didn’t know, the monster was pretty discreet about his activities when we were all “playing school” and he had his hand up my dress.  Other times he would take me to my mom and dad’s bedroom and take all my clothes off and hold me up to the mirror and put me up on his penis, as far as what I thought I didn’t know anything about sex at that point I just knew that it felt wrong and I was dirty for letting him do it.  Once my parents came home and we were in my parents bedroom, we heard the car doors slam, fear ran through me like lightning had struck me, I was so afraid my parents were going to come in and catch us.  He gave me my clothes, tights and all and told me to run to the bathroom and get dressed, so I did, I was shaking with fear that my mom and dad was going to find out what was going on and I would get a big whipping.

We moved to my grandparent’s farm into a little two bedroom farmhouse that had a bathroom added onto the back porch.  There was woods all around, no people, just trees and wild flowers, across an empty field there was a gigantic old oak tree, that is where I loved to go to be all alone, to read, sing and talk to myself.   My three brothers shared a bedroom and my parents had the other bedroom so I had a bed in the dining room.  There were double windows and I was terrified to go to sleep, again I just knew there was a monster under my bed, waiting for me to go to sleep.  No matter what the weather was like I always pulled the covers up over my head and got in the center of my bed hoping that the monster wouldn’t be able to find me or reach me.

The nightmare was far from over, my grand parents had 10 children and the four youngest were still at home, my uncle being the oldest of the four seemed to think I was his new toy and not in a good way.  He would find me everyday and take me to the packhouse and fondle me, and make me fondle him.  He told me how beautiful and sweet I was I believed him, it came to the point that I looked forward to the attention.   My mom was always busy and didn’t seem to have any time for us children, I was in the way if anything.  It seemed that I irritated my mom no matter what I did, there was no pleasing her, I could never do anything right.  All I wanted was for my mom to love me, to tell me she loved me, to hug me and take up some time with me, at least tell me every once in a while that I did something right.  Now I was really dirty, dispiciple, and didn’t deserve to be happy my uncle made me feel better about myself.  But when I was alone it was a different story, especially at night when it was dark and I knew there were monsters out, under my bed, in my closet, every where I went I could not escape the fear. 

At last we were in Georgia in a new place where no one knew what had happened, I started a new school, but it was the same as before. In class I hated it when the teacher called on me to answer a question, I never knew the answer, I would just guess instead of saying I didn’t know, and everyone would laugh.  At recess I would find an isolated spot and hide there, alone.  Every once in a while I would swing alone, and sometimes there was a girl who would play with me on the see-saw.  That was my favorite thing to do on the playground besides swinging, I remember her name and everything about her, she said her family had moved here from Canada and when I was with her I felt like I was important, that I mattered, and everything was ok.  After that year, I was in the third grade, I don’t know what happened to her, I don’t remember ever seeing her again.

When my parents went out with their new friends, my uncle kept us, but I really don’t remember much about that, I do remember, though, every day he would either take me to the pack house or to the fields where no one was around and we would do things that we weren’t suppose to do.  He was a good ten years older than me but I really felt ok about it all, it felt normal.  He was my only constant companion and this lasted until I was 12 years old and he got married.  One day he told me he was getting married so we wouldn’t be able to play around anymore, in a way I felt rejected, I wondered if I had done something wrong, but I also knew that he was right, he was getting married and it wasn’t right for us to keep doing the things we were doing.

Sometime during all this when I was around ten years old my middle brother and I stayed with an elderly farm couple after school and during the summer.  The old man, Pale, would take us to the store, most of the time we would walk and he would put me on his shoulders and slide his big ol’ fat fingers into my panties.  Other times he would go to the store and come back and hide our candy in the hay stacks in the old barn behind their house while the old lady made us m&m cookies.   He would come in and get me and my brother and tell us we had a surprise but we had to find it.  He would come around me and play with me, dirty games, touch me and rub my under my panties.  Their house smelled like moth balls but the lady was so sweet and I enjoyed feeding the cows, sometimes I would go out alone and talk to the cows like they were my best friends, like they were human and understood what I was saying and that they would think about me when I wasn’t there.   The old man made me feel so nasty, I never told anyone, I was too afraid to so I kept this secret along with the others.   To this day I don’t know if my middle brother knows what the old man did, my brother is two years younger than me so I don’t know if he paid any attention to what was going on as a matter of fact, I don’t even know if maybe the old man may have messed with him, I never thought to ask him or bring it up to him at all.

My middle brother had enough on his mind, I don’t even know when it started everything is so muddled in my mind, but my dad would jump on my brother, first he would start yelling at him and things would escalate until my dad would start hitting my brother.  Sometimes he would hit him with his hand other times he would beat him with a belt, he would beat and beat trying to make my brother cry but he refused to cry, he never showed any emotion, not fear, pain, nothing.  My mom would yell for my dad to stop but he didn’t, he kept on, finally I jumped in and would get in between them, sometimes I got hit myself.  Finally my dad would stop and everyone was just quiet, the next day it would be as if nothing had ever happened, until the next time.

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My Life Story

For several years I have wanted to write my life story, today I decided to start doing it.  This was a very hard decision, I don’t want to cause a lot of trouble, embarass people or put anyone in a bad situation.  The reason I decided to write my life story is for my own benefit, to feel liberated from the past and to conquer the fears and face the demons that I have wrestled with all my life. 

This blog is open for anyone to read, I feel that it may help someone else and help me at the same time.  There are many people involved in my story, my family, and others that I have no idea where they are now or what they are doing.  There are people that I would like to expose, I would like for them to feel the shame that I have struggled with for the past 40 something years.  Some of the people that are involved in my life story have passed on, others live close to me and some I don’t know where to begin looking for.  This story is very detailed and has parts about my life that I am quite embarassed about but I know that I am a survivor and in a way am proud to tell it.  There is a lot that I have survived, abuse by several different people, including people who are very close to me and some of them I don’t want to hurt, there are others that I really don’t care about, they didn’t care about me.  Some of these people hurt me tremendously and some destroyed me as a person, I have had to gather up the ashes and go on with my life.  It has taken me a life time to try to heal, but these wounds just won’t heal.  No matter how hard I try to overcome, and I say overcome because I am still haunted by the past.  My life has been one whirlwind after the other, some of it was my fault for not being more vigilant, and because I made bad choices but still I did not deserve to be treated the way I have been treated.  Til this day I am in therapy and seek healing, today I make better choices and think about things long and hard before I make a decision that is going to affect me for the rest of my life.

Some people say the past is the past, stop living in the past and etc., but I don’t live in the past, I have tried to run from it, that is the problem.  I believe we have to face our past and face the demons that torment us to be able to move on.  This is my way of facing the past and fighting the demons head on that I have tried to forget, run from and cover up.  Now this is a true story, every word of it, nothing added, nothing taken away, except for what I cannot remember.

While you read this, remember that we all handle our problems in our own way, no two of us are alike and there are many, many other people out there who have secrets.  We should never judge someone who has survived, we don’t know what they have encountered, just what they have had to do in order to live.

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