Topic : How Childhood Abuse Still Affects Me

I too am an abuse SURVIVOR. I am one of 8 kids. I was often the target of the abuse(every type, including rape). I believe it is because  I rebelled and fought back.  I am also the one who went to the police. Therefore I am the BAD one in the family.  I refuse to live the lies any longer and I am the only person in my family to seek counseling.  According to my siblings I am the one with the problem. But we all know that's probably not the case.  No matter what else happened, I can look at myself in the mirror and know that telling stopped the abuse and our abuser (or father) didn't get his filthy hands on my little sister who was 7 at the time. He bragged he abused us and said he'd get her too and there was nothing anything anyone could do about it. I had the typical useless mother.  It was common for her to blame us (why don't  you just stay away from him?)etc, etc.  No matter what  I do or the reading or counseling I get I am still so sad and angry.  Is this normal? How do you deal with this issue?   OH.... to Dr. Phil....thank you for helping me realize that no matter what happened to me "I am still here" .   I needed so much to hear someone say that.

I suppose in a way I got lucky.  Both of my parents died while I was in my teens.  (I'm 49 now).  Yet in a way I feel cheated.  I was never able to confront them.  I have done that tho at the cemetary where they are buried.  It was the first time I ever got to speak my piece without fear of repercussion.  Most days I am just fine.  But once in a while all the old feelings surface. When that happens I intentionally remind myself that by letting those internal messages continue I am letting the abuse/abandonment continue.   The best book I have found (that helps me) is called The Courage to heal.  I can't remember the authors name but I found it at our public library.  She also wrote a companion book for spouses or loved ones of survivors.  Sometimes I do have dreams that take place where the abuse occurred.  When I initially began counseling I had many nightmares or night terrors that he was chasing and hunting me and saying..."I told you not to tell.I'm going to kill you just like I said I would if you tell).   

Seems as tho all survivors have similar thoughts doesn't it? 

   Have you ever had a sibling or anyone else close to you say " You need to put it behind you. Get on with your life, forgive and forget?   Isn't it amazing how ignorant people can be? 

Nothing that happened to you is your fault!!!The only person who is responsible for the abuse was your abuser.   Incest is NOT a guy thing.  It is a compulsion. 

     I am curious about something....  Do you other survivors have difficulty dealing with any of your siblings?   Do they ignore how you feel  about the abuse?  Do they act like are THE person in the family that truly has something wrong with you?   

     I have chosen to distance myself from other family members who are obviously not part of my support system.  Relationships with some family members are very toxic.  They hold me accountable for the abuse or are just too loyal to my parents.  Have any of you had to shut certain people out of your life? 

     Do you ever go along and everything seems to be swell... then Bang.... someone who was in your  corner dies and you feel like you're a bit lost? 

Hello Blaze 

  

I too have siblings who are in denial. They act as tho I'm the only one with issues. 

The problem for those in denial is ....  if you face your abuse you can no longer be in denial. 

I thinks it's a survival mechanism.  Or perhaps they think they are chosing sides.  Either way...If you believe you were abused,  you most likely were.   You know what they say  "if it walks like a duck...). 

Wow!!! What an incredible human being you are.  Do you have any clue as to how much courage you had to have to have done as well as you have?  I'm also very glad for you that your mother was in your corner.  In a lot of families it doesn't happen that way.  Very often mothers enable the abuser or make excuses for him.  I guess it's their own weaknesses or insecurities that cause them to be that way.  But I have to admit... sometimes I wish I could have screamed "grow a backbone , why don't you?" 

 I often regretted the fact that my abuser got off scott free. It used to really piss me off that I never got any justice.  But now I realize that if he were still alive he'd still be doing the same old stuff he used to do.  Between my siblings and me we have 17 kids.  11 of which are girls.  If nothing else... at least our girls will never have to be exposed to the abuse.  I honestly am grateful the man is dead.  Am I inhuman or lacking in compassion  or what. 

I don't even know you but I am soooo proud of you.  I hope you're proud of you too!!! 

Hello, I am a 42 yr old female who kinda relates  to what you are saying.  I was verbally and physically abused by my father.  It stripped me of any self esteem and confidence that I had.  I also believe that I have been sexually molested.  However, I have no memory of this.  I believe this because I exhibit some of the signs.  Eating disorders, self hate, low self esteem and I have also done the cutting .  I just want and try to encourage you to get help while you are young.  I have been to several therapists over the years.  It helps, but I know deep down inside that I am the only one who can really help myself.  Please quit doing the drugs, drinking and depending on guys to give you self esteem.  It has to come from within you.  I have found that believing in a higher power helps a great deal.  I get so angry that to this day, I still let my childhood affect me.  Please remember, you are the only person you can really count on.  Please don't let yourself down.  I wish you the best.  Please try and free yourself from this prison as soon as possible.  Life goes by so fast.

I write... when I feel the need to get this sadness out of me. It is one of my coping mechanisms. No one has read my "notes"... no one but me... not yet, anyway. I am still safely hidden beneath the protective cloak of silence.  But one day... I will organize my "notes" and write my story.  But I'm still in the remembering stage. I just don't have the time and energy yet. I need lots of breaks. I am saddened for days afterwards, but I always seem to feel a bit more "whole" afterwards... more at peace with myself... more accepting of myself. There seems so much of my childhood that's forgotten. I tell myself that I need to do this... in order to be able to remember the good stuff... to finally "get over it", as they say. It is the one goal that is my life's ambition which almost equals the concern for my retirement years. I'm certain there are lots of good memories to be remembered... to be cherished. I must look for the lone flower in the ugly field. I must look for the treasure hidden in the burn pile.  I must see hope... somehow, somewhere. I'm certain that in remembering the details of the bad things more clearly, that I will then be able to see beyond those flashes of past and finally be able to remember some good. I have often thought of myself as an oddball... as different from everyone else.  I believe I was 3 when I first heard the words... "do not tell". I was told that if I told anyone, that every single person who found out would die. My parents, my sisters, my grandmother, the cops... everyone would die. I would die.  I kept his (our) secret for so many years. I'm 45 now.  When he was killed, when I was about 5... I was glad he was dead. No one heard these thoughts... no one ever knew.  I can still hear those angry thoughts reverberating in my mind as I sat on the swing while the adults were inside Grandma's house "being sad".  

And then... another uncle. And another. And another. It's easier to count the uncles that didn't "bother" me, than to try to count the ones that did.                               

Cold. I hate being cold. I hate it so much that it almost brings tears as I remember of how it feels to be cold. As I wrote about this in my "notes", I do cry. Because I was able to get inside that little girls head and feel the hurt. I get angry if I wake to a cold room.  This has caused quite a few "discussions" and angry non-discussions between me and my husband.   He's hot, so he turns down the thermostat. I'm cold, so I turn it up. He's hot so he turns it down lower. I'm cold, so I turn it up higher.  I get angry that he touched the thermostat. He's angry that he got "fussed" at for touching it. Silly, I know.   But I hate being cold... but especially waking to a cold room.    

  

In my writings, I can go to the hurt... identify it... acknowledge it... and "deal with it".  I could go on and on right now... write for hours. Reading some of your posts on this matter has me thinking about past hurts... and it makes me want to write some more in my "notes". It's been on my mind quite a bit lately. I don't want to die before I write my story.            

I grew up in a very toxic family. Where lies are the truth, feelings are not to be spoken because you don't have the right to your feelings, where a slap would be nothing in comparrison to the 2 by 4 waiting for you if you didn't listen. 

  

 The best example I can think of is when I was 13. I met a young 16 year old boy while I was swimming and he and I hit it off. I went to his camp site where we talked. It was nice to be treated as a human for the first time in my life. There was a camp grounds in the middle of my town Consecon. We passed a nice mourning talking. When a car pulled up in front of the tent. He told me to run fast and get out of there. I didn't have the chance when 2 men jumped out of the car and grabbed me. They quickly pulled me into the tent. Where I was beaten and raped for hours. 

  

Battered I begged one of my captures to let me go to the toilet. He allowed me to but he held me to the bathroom. I'm surprised noone from the other camps did not help or call the police. I had to pi and I couldn't eacape. I wept while I went back to mt hell. Just then my Father pulled up in our van. I thought I would be rescued. Instead my father grabbed me pulled me into the van and beat me for being with a 32 year old man. He didn't see the other guy. 

  

When we did get to the police and the rape check up. The police told my father that I must be a slut and my father agreed with them. I hated my father since that day. I was always the slut and the hore since that day. I could never win. There were days when I get beat and I have no idea what I did. He went to his grave without me. I did not go to his funeral. What for? He was already dead to me. 

 

I told the truth about my father's violence when I was 14. Not one of my siblings backed me. To this day I am the liar and the exagerater. I no longer have contact with them. 

 

I live alone. I have 2 angry children who are now adults. A grandmother of 2 youing boys and I am trying to help my children change but I still have problems dealing with people. I am an eternal pleaser. Who is never good enough. I end up with men who take advantage of my good heart.  

 

I cry alot. I am getting help. I keep asking God, Is it ok if I am loved now. Please!!! Did I pay enough. So you can say even at 44, I still can't get it together.  

 

Trying hard though.