# Share your childhood abuse stories and how you are still affected by it.



## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

I am creating this thread because I have gotten complains on other threads where I was looking for specific information that would help me heal my childhood trauma. So come here and share your story with us.

The rules for this thread is* NO DEBATING EMOTIONS in this thread.* It is painful to revel childhood trauma but even harder to deal with people debating the emotional aspect of it. if you want to debate something that is brought up by someone create a new thread. But don't debate emotions in this thread.

In my childhood when I was eight I was gang raped. My mother heavenly defended the rapist. My mothers attitude was more painful than being raped. I am still dealing with what happens to me after all these years. I was damaged where I can never have children as well as other physical damage that left permanent physical difficulties. The emotional part is slowly healing but will forever leave a deep scar. At lease I can say what happened to me.


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## Drea (Apr 13, 2010)

I'm so sorry, Blue Butterfly.:sad: Why did your mother support the rapist? Of course, you don't have to tell me, but it just doesn't seem normal, or right or justifiable.


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## The Psychonaut (Oct 29, 2009)

this is a bad idea i think. 

i was beaten occasionally by my mother. usually she just beat my older brother. the verbal abuse was what fucked me up the most. she always told me i was fat/lazy and things like that. that is probably why i am bolemic now. 

also, i think that living in a house with a person who can at any moment explode over nothing heavily influenced my to become more INTPish. 
the N was a necessity, you had to be able to know when the episodes were coming, or you got caught in them. 
the T probably was an effect of me despising what i saw as her over-emotional behavior.
The I is the most definite because i always just tried to disappear, to blend in, fly on the wall as they say.
P im not sure, but it may have been effected by her decisions always being final, sort of overpowering my own judgement, and forcing me to take multiple perspectives.

maybe it wasnt such a bad idea, i feel much better.


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## Danse Macabre (Oct 30, 2009)

Blue Butterfly said:


> In my childhood when I was eight I was gang raped. My mother heavenly defended the rapist. My mothers attitude was more painful than being raped. I am still dealing with what happens to me after all these years. I was damaged where I can never have children as well as other physical damage that left permanent physical difficulties. The emotional part is slowly healing but will forever leave a deep scar. At lease I can say what happened to me.


*hugs* I'm so sorry =(

Well mine wasn't childhood exactly, I was 14 - 15. And it wasn't terribly, comparatively at all! A "friend" would constantly tell me I was pathetic, dumb blah blah blah. She'd hit me and drag me along by the hair and randomly freaking tackle me, at school. She made me feel guilty for not liking her. One minute she'd be hitting me, and the next she'd be saying how much she likes me and how we're best friends forever. 

But the worst part was that no one else noticed or did anything. She trapped me into it. When I tried to get away from her, she'd make her mum ring me up and ask me over to dinner and I couldn't say no because if I said I was busy, she'd pick another date again and again. I felt to guilty to say I didn't want to see her. 

Also, no teachers at school noticed and my parents didn't know what to do. The girl was the top of the class and all the teachers thought I was bullying her because shed often chuck tantrums when she was with me if she didn't get what she wanted. Eventually she started cutting herself to make me feel even worse and everyone at school thought it was me who made her that way so they all treated me like a huge bitch and always asked me why I didn't talk to her or give her any sympathy when she asked me for hugs and said how sad she was. I used to have panic attacks whenever I was in the same class as her. She would just stare at me in a really scary way. She terrifies me. I was notorious in the school for being mean and cold. Hah. 

It only really ended six months ago when I finally left school and I can't really talk about it. The mention of anything to do with school or that girl make me extremely angry and depressed. Her photos make me shudder and my old schoolbooks bring me to tears. PTSD FTW xD


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## Viktoria2 (Feb 15, 2009)

DanseMacabre said:


> Well mine wasn't childhood exactly, I was 14 - 15. And it wasn't terribly, comparatively at all! A "friend" would constantly tell me I was pathetic, dumb blah blah blah. She'd hit me and drag me along by the hair and randomly freaking tackle me, at school. She made me feel guilty for not liking her.* One minute she'd be hitting me, and the next she'd be saying how much she likes me and how we're best friends forever. *


*Haha, bi polar much?

Let's see. I was sexually and emotionally abused at the age of 9 to 12 by my father. 
For starters, he was just a bad guy in general, but I was too blinded at the time to see. He would sit on the couch and watch tv while he made me and my sister clean and do all the chores around the house. He's often stand over us and complain about how we missed a spot, and I was always told I wasn't doing a good enough job. My best was never good enough, and to this day it is extremely hard for me to be forgiving of myself. 

I never had any very good friends growing up, and all I ever wanted was a connection with somebody, any other person and to have a best friend. I never did get one. I've had close friends, but never a best friend. Kids were cruel and used to make fun of me, and I used to cry whenever I did anything wrong. I still have problems trying because failing was so discouraged, although I think this was partly my fault because I've always been so hard on myself. 

As for the other stuff, I'd rather not say. Well, at least not for now. It's too deep. 
*


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

Drea said:


> I'm so sorry, Blue Butterfly.:sad: Why did your mother support the rapist? Of course, you don't have to tell me, but it just doesn't seem normal, or right or justifiable.


 
Yes she did support them. After they half killed me I crawled into the house and she had the nerve to ask me if I enjoyed it. Then she said what they did to me did not hurt me. I was half dead. Then she let those thing remain hanging around the house and acted like they were the greatest things on earth. And yes I am am explosively angry at her and anyone else that defends a child molester.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

My heart goes out to each and every one of you. I know it hurts. These threads I have been creating is my healing. I have learned that if one can speak what happened to them then they can eventually turn it lose. That is healing in the making here. There will be others that will read this and will not want to post. And that is ok too. Just know that you are not alone in the abuse and there is healing. We just need a nice safe place to do it.


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## Vaka (Feb 26, 2010)

Mostly emotional and verbal...sparse physical abuse...nothing I really want to talk about...
I'm not fully mentally healthy...


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## vel (May 17, 2010)

Blue Butterfly said:


> Yes she did support them. After they half killed me I crawled into the house and she had the nerve to ask me if I enjoyed it. Then she said what they did to me did not hurt me. I was half dead. Then she let those thing remain hanging around the house and acted like they were the greatest things on earth. And yes I am am explosively angry at her and anyone else that defends a child molester.


Wow, she sounds really crazy. Was she doing drugs or something? Only some kind of hardcore psychopath would do such a thing - see her daughter get raped and get enjoyment from it - that's monstrous.


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## Wheelie (Apr 2, 2010)

Sorry to hear about the trauma you went through blue butterfly.

If its any help, when I was 2 , my mother took me to a family friend's house. I was naughty and stubborn, so she thought the best form of punishment for me was to lock me outside the front door. TOld me she didn't want me and for me to go survive on my own. Today i'd have no problem I'd probably insist on it, but when you're 2 years old and your mother wants to abandon you. I reckon that 2 minutes I spent banging on the front door and screaming crying my eyes out, was the earliest memory I can remember so clearly and vividly. That cut me deep, and to this day there's a underlying level of resentment and mistrust I've only recently managed to shake.


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## BlissfulDreams (Dec 25, 2009)

I'm very sorry to hear about all of the abuse that you went through Blue Butterfly. I don't blame you for being angry at your mother, even after all of this time. I can't imagine anyone being able to justify such actions from anyone, never mind the fact that that those boys did that to you - her own daughter. I don't know how she could be so hurtful to you. I hope that you'll be able to heal from this one day and maybe help someone else who has had a similar experience.


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## Macrosapien (Apr 4, 2010)

Blue Butterfly and Viktoria may heart goes out to you, as well as everyone else that have posted such experiences. I'm sorry I never experienced anything such as this, but I knew others that did. Blue Butterfly, one of my close friends little cousin (but like a sister) had that happen to her and she would be able to have children. I;m filled with such a feeling sadness. I feel so sad that anyone has to go through such things.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

Thanks to most of you for your support and encouraging comments. Opening up and talking about what happened to me is what is healing me. I do want to be able to help others with abuse issues and want each of you to know that I am here if you need a listening ear. I personally am on a mission to heal this pain no matter what it takes. I have a very strong need to scream to the world that what happened to me was an injustice. And getting to post it on here, which is worldwide, makes me feel like I have screamed and have been heard worldwide. Which is very healing in itself.

As for why my mother was like that I do not understand people like her and don't think I ever will. She did not take drugs or drink. I made another thread to find out why a woman would allow a men to abuse their children but nothing stated seemed to cover what my mother did. I am very confused about why she would allow that. I went through a lot more trauma than this but I want to handle one trauma at a time. 

I was going to write more but I get a bit sick thinking about what happened. But thinks for everyone kind support. Your kindness does ease my pain.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

You could not believe just how so healing your kind works are. Each one of you that says kind words are healing a place in me that nothing else has been able to heal. I can feel that place of damage in me heal. 

Thank all of you for your kind words.


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## Vaka (Feb 26, 2010)

I am sorry that happened to you...*hugs*...


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## Midnight Runner (Feb 14, 2010)

I also want to express my sympathy to those of you who have posted in this thread.

And as for the abuse I have dealt with has been mostly just fairly general emotional abuse from my older brother. Nothing I really want to go into detail on, but maybe at a later date.


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## NightSkyGirl (Apr 11, 2010)

DanseMacabre said:


> *hugs* I'm so sorry =(
> 
> Well mine wasn't childhood exactly, I was 14 - 15. And it wasn't terribly, comparatively at all! A "friend" would constantly tell me I was pathetic, dumb blah blah blah. She'd hit me and drag me along by the hair and randomly freaking tackle me, at school. She made me feel guilty for not liking her. One minute she'd be hitting me, and the next she'd be saying how much she likes me and how we're best friends forever.
> 
> ...


Aww, that's awful! I'm not a violent person at all but I would have so taught her a lesson for you. I can't stand people like that taken advantage of others. :sad: Glad that it's over and she's out of your life. 

*hugs for everyone on here*


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## Promethea (Aug 24, 2009)

Addict parents. Mom had borderline personality disorder. My father used to beat us both, and my mom would take out her rage on me - mentally and physically. It happened mostly at night. I had to become a very light sleeper. I will spare you the horror stories.

Physical and psychological abuse. Result: PTSD. 

These days, mostly insomnia. Have had insomnia since childhood of course. A lot of the anger issues and anxiety have lessened over time. I used to have violent outbursts, but that is under control.

I'm sharing this information mostly to show that I too, am human. It seems that some had a different impression. 

I'm also not looking for an "I'm sorry" or "*hugs*" - I'm fine. Its just the hand of cards I was dealt. I did alright, all things considered.


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## Popu (Oct 17, 2009)

If it helps, then my sympathy, hugs or whatever I can give is for everyone here who has had a troubleing childhood. 

I cosider myself to have had a bad childhood also, was a total social freak in school for example, but I cant even compare it to what some of you have been through..

I admire the strenght and courage to talk about these things. There aren't many who can do that..


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## BlissfulDreams (Dec 25, 2009)

I know I am pretty quiet in these forums but I have been wanting to share a bit about myself for a while. I just didn't know where to post it, but I think that this is the right thread to do it in. Most of the abuse that I have endured was from my peers. I have experienced some emotional abuse from my mother that has affected me deeply, but I won't go into that today. I'll share a couple of my experiences.

When I was 11, I went on a field trip with my classmates. We were getting together with kids from around the city. I was by myself and I saw a group of boys talking amongst each other and laughing. Soon after, a few of them walked up to me and tripped me. They started kicking me all over my body and laughed at me. I cried and begged them to stop but they just looked at me crying and laughed. Students and teachers from my own school and from other schools saw what was happening but no one tried to stop it. They watched for a bit and then walked away. I felt abandoned and alone. I felt like I didn't matter. I was so ashamed of myself and what had happened that I didn't tell my parents for years. I lied about my bruises. Since then, I have become very distrustful of others and I fear being alone with a group of males. I have an irrational fear that something bad will happen to me again if I don't avoid situations like that and so I don't allow myself to be alone with guys my age. I get very anxious.

I also had an abusive friendship. I was friends with a girl who was about 70 lbs heavier than I was and she was bullied throughout her life by her peers and her family. Even though she was mean to me, I empathized with her and became the only good friend that she had. She tried to do everything she could to control everything about me and was very good at manipulating me. She would tell me horrible things like how ugly I was and how she was doing me a favour by being my friend because no one else would ever want to be friends with someone like me. She tried to prove this by destroying all other friendships that I had. Occasionally she would get mad at me and shove me around. She made me do her homework for her because "a good friend wouldn't let me fail" and she threatened numerous times to kill herself if I ever stopped being friends with her. She destroyed my self-esteem. I stopped being friends with her during the 10th grade. The lies that she would tell me about myself still repeat in my mind but instead of her saying them, it's me.

As a result of all of the cruel comments and actions towards me, I have a very poor image of myself and think that I am unlovable. I doubt any compliments or kind words towards me and am suspicious of others.


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## Macrosapien (Apr 4, 2010)

Gorihay said:


> I know I am pretty quiet in these forums but I have been wanting to share a bit about myself for a while. I just didn't know where to post it, but I think that this is the right thread to do it in. Most of the abuse that I have endured was from my peers. I have experienced some emotional abuse from my mother that has affected me deeply, but I won't go into that today. I'll share a couple of my experiences.
> 
> When I was 11, I went on a field trip with my classmates. We were getting together with kids from around the city. I was by myself and I saw a group of boys talking amongst each other and laughing. Soon after, a few of them walked up to me and tripped me. They started kicking me all over my body and laughed at me. I cried and begged them to stop but they just looked at me crying and laughed. Students and teachers from my own school and from other schools saw what was happening but no one tried to stop it. They watched for a bit and then walked away. I felt abandoned and alone. I felt like I didn't matter. I was so ashamed of myself and what had happened that I didn't tell my parents for years. I lied about my bruises. Since then, I have become very distrustful of others and I fear being alone with a group of males. I have an irrational fear that something bad will happen to me again if I don't avoid situations like that and so I don't allow myself to be alone with guys my age. I get very anxious.
> 
> ...


When I was in middle school I was verbally abused at times and rejected. They would never try to physically do anything to me. I had low self esteem due to all of this and the fact that I had vitiligo on my fingers. I had to deal with stuff everyday in middle school. It all changed when I got to high school though, started to lift weights, had a growth spurt... so no one would ever attempt to truly say anything about me. At that point people just wanted to beat me up, but they never tried. I always knew I was attractive, but for a while they made me not feel so. 

I dont have any stories of being abused physically, or a mother who who abused me mentally when I was still a child. My father was never in my life. But I have empathy towards those who have experienced such things.


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## Vector (May 5, 2010)

I have narcissistic parents. As a result, they weren't consistent at all with what they wanted from me. On one hand, they'd tell me that they "Thank God we have such a smart boy," and only when I did something useful for them. On the other hand, if I did something that was "too smart," they'd tell me that I was being "pilosopo" (a Tagalog term for "smart aleck") and say to me that "God will show you someday. He'll take away your intelligence." Getting good grades wasn't anything significant to them either; all they'd say was "Good job." Now, if I had less than straight-As, I ended up getting a stern talking to, followed by a swift beating (they loved spankings, but they didn't simply do a quick swat or two, they did it multiple times to make sure it hurt.)

I remember one time in fifth grade I had a report card with straight-As, with the exception of my handwriting, which got a C. My mother completely ignored all those As I had and started yelling at me for the C I earned for my handwriting. So I started working on it. The next time I had a report card, I had an A for handwriting...at the expense of all my other grades.

She yelled at me for that too.

Oh, did I mention that whenever I screwed up (like the above-mentioned event with my grades), I was referred to as a stupid child? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even now I have an inferiority complex. I get terribly angry if anyone implies that I'm incompetent or stupid in any fashion, and I get riled up in an "I'll fucking show you!" manner.

My mother was/is an emotionally manipulative person. She'd ask me questions like "Do you still love mama?" especially when I criticized her or otherwise called her out on her mistakes. She was also an enabler of bad behavior. She'd always say things like "You have to forgive your dad because he's just that way." As for my father, he's the sort of man who excuses his bad behavior by saying things like "I'm the parent, so it's my right to do this or that!" or "I'm the one paying for this house. I'll kick you out if you're an ungrateful person." He's also the sort of man who breaks things when he's frustrated.

Oftentimes I would show how "ungrateful" I was by telling them the problems I was having, whether it was with school or with their confusing behavior toward me. Rather than listening to me and trying to deal with the problem(s), they'd somehow make it about themselves and tell me, "You're disrespecting me", despite the fact that I was referring them as "mom" or "dad" and using a calm voice, and not reacting to them in anger. And yet they also told me that I could come talk to them about "anything." So when I stopped talking to them and they found out about problems in other ways, they'd yell at me and berate me hard all while asking them "Why didn't you tell us? We're your parents! You can tell us anything."

And then when I did, I'd get the same routine of "You're disrespecting us." What the hell am I supposed to do?

They'd often tell me how proud they were talking about me when they talked to their coworkers. "Oh my son is like this and like that, and he's so good!" It's funny...if they were really proud of me, they'd actually tell me that to my face rather than get up in my face every time I made a mistake and called me "stupid" for it. It's as if though they were taking my accomplishments and making them their own.

This sort of environment also happened to be one that didn't encourage healthy emotional expression. Many times I'd be laughing at something or smiling in amusement, and they'd wonder what I was laughing or smiling about. "Why are smiling like that?" Or, "What are you laughing about over there?" I'd tell them, and then they'd tell me things like, "Don't do that in public; people will think you're crazy. What will that say about their parents?"

They'd say that, and then they'd wonder why I hardly smile at all when I was at home or in public. They'd tell me things like, "Why are you so cold?" or "You're so emotionless, like a robot!" and use that a reason against me whenever I told them about the problems I was having with them. 

If I could tell one story that epitomizes the relationship I have with both of my parents, it's this one. I remember being four years old and being told not to break any dishes. I wasn't told the context or any reasons why I shouldn't or whether it was a bad idea or not. I was just told not to do so. Obviously as a four-year-old kid, try as I might, I still wasn't that coordinated. I ended up breaking a dish. A single one. One.

One dish was all it took for a cacophony of noise coming from my mother. Yelling, screaming, figurative hair-tearing. Cries of "Why are you so stupid? I told you not to break any dishes! You're stupid! STUPID!"

After that was the inevitable beating. Multiple spankings so hard I couldn't sit for a few hours. Multiple spankings with a belt from my father after he came home and heard about the "crime" I had done. All while being yelled at and referred to as a "stupid child." Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Even now when I'm in a situation where I'm truly being evaluated (like job interviews and such), my parents are psychologically looking over my shoulder telling me that I'm unable to do what I need to do, because I'm "stupid." Even now, it's hard for me to connect emotionally with other people because I don't always understand what they're feeling and how to act appropriately. I just don't know. I can't tell. Not only am I predisposed toward that due to being an ISTJ male, but they made it worse by being the sorts of parents they were/are.

And yet they had the gall to tell me to be more sociable, because if I wasn't, it would reflect badly upon them as parents.

I can't write anymore. I feel like bile is rising up in my throat.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

My heart is overflowing for each of you that understands the affects of abuse. I thank each of you for sharing. The more we share the more healing we get. And too we are breaking down the forced silence and predigest on these kinds of things. The more open we are the easier it will be for others to open up to healing too. I know after reading your comments I feel so much more love in my heart and a whole lot less pain an anger. I love you my special PC family.


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## RedDeath9 (Apr 22, 2010)

Whether it helps or not... My heart goes out to all of you who have posted here, and also to those who haven't.


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## daedaln (May 24, 2010)

Hey guys. I went through some pretty traumatic times during my childhood as well, and it has, to a large extent, shaped who I have become today. While I simply don't feel that it is right for me (yet) to share my experiences in this forum, I just want to say that I am honestly and truly surprised that so many of you have undergone childhood abuse as well. It's really saddening, but I'm just really glad that I know that there are people out here in this forum who have the guts to take these experiences in their stride and be really open and upfront about it.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

daedaln said:


> Hey guys. I went through some pretty traumatic times during my childhood as well, and it has, to a large extent, shaped who I have become today. While I simply don't feel that it is right for me (yet) to share my experiences in this forum, I just want to say that I am honestly and truly surprised that so many of you have undergone childhood abuse as well. It's really saddening, but I'm just really glad that I know that there are people out here in this forum who have the guts to take these experiences in their stride and be really open and upfront about it.


Thank you for your kind words. I shared my abuse because I am at the ending stages of complete healing and needed to go the deepest level possible and risk exposing myself to cruel people. To get to the point of sharing painful memories worldwide like that you must also be ready to experience abuse from really bad people. These people will debate, criticize and downgrade and even dehumanize a person if they can. I have had to fight to be able to express my feelings. But I am going to state them even if these cruel people do continue to mistreat me. Standing up to them is a part of the healing process. There will always 
be cold hearted people that will try to re victimize the survivor. 

I don't recommend anyone to reveal painful memories until they can take being criticized. By sharing what you did it shows you are farther in the healing process than you even think. There are others that are reading this thread and could not share that they have even been through abuse. If you need someone to help you through any part of the healing I am here.
Love and hugs to you.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

RedDeath9 said:


> Whether it helps or not... My heart goes out to all of you who have posted here, and also to those who haven't.


 
Believe me it helps. Kindness is very very healing. To know one more kind person exist is very important for me to know. I designed this thread partly to see who was a kind person. There are many of you but I do know there are a few of you out there. I love each and every one of you too. Thanks for being counted in with the good and kind people.


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## Danse Macabre (Oct 30, 2009)

Blue Butterfly said:


> Thank you for your kind words. I shared my abuse because I am at the ending stages of complete healing and needed to go the deepest level possible and risk exposing myself to cruel people. To get to the point of sharing painful memories worldwide like that you must also be ready to experience abuse from really bad people. These people will debate, criticize and downgrade and even dehumanize a person if they can. I have had to fight to be able to express my feelings. But I am going to state them even if these cruel people do continue to mistreat me. Standing up to them is a part of the healing process. There will always
> be cold hearted people that will try to re victimize the survivor.


I am so happy for you Blue Butterfly. You're so brave =) *hugs*


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## Quin Sabe (Jan 26, 2010)

I might have a few urns in my closet, but I don't think have skeletons. I offer my sympathies. Reading this really makes me want to do something about it. If I could sell my body parts to take away the abuse some of you have gone through I would. As cliche' as it might sound, if I was made offer to trade my life and end abuse, I would.


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## pansy (Apr 28, 2010)

When I am 14, I inspired by a story, i.e. to become a great astrologiest

But still I am trying to achieve it


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## Nexus6 (May 21, 2010)

Blue Butterfly said:


> My heart goes out to each and every one of you. I know it hurts. These threads I have been creating is my healing. I have learned that if one can speak what happened to them then they can eventually turn it lose. That is healing in the making here. There will be others that will read this and will not want to post. And that is ok too. Just know that you are not alone in the abuse and there is healing. We just need a nice safe place to do it.


I am so deeply sorry for your pain. You are such a beautiful, precious soul and your wisdom shines in all of the posts you make. My grief is that there is no cure for the evil in this world and that so many other children are hurt. It defies all my logic and reason. My only defense is my faith, and when I have thought so much about these things and solution there could possibly be I get to a point where I can only pray, and for some odd reason it brings me peace.

You are so brave. You are doing something I know I could never do in talking about your feelings and healing in this way. You are healing yourself through commiseration and talking about your experience. I am sure there are others like you who you are healing through your words as well. Thank you so much for this post, my heart goes out to you.


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

Nexus6 said:


> I am so deeply sorry for your pain. You are such a beautiful, precious soul and your wisdom shines in all of the posts you make. My grief is that there is no cure for the evil in this world and that so many other children are hurt. It defies all my logic and reason. My only defense is my faith, and when I have thought so much about these things and solution there could possibly be I get to a point where I can only pray, and for some odd reason it brings me peace.
> 
> You are so brave. You are doing something I know I could never do in talking about your feelings and healing in this way. You are healing yourself through commiseration and talking about your experience. I am sure there are others like you who you are healing through your words as well. Thank you so much for this post, my heart goes out to you.


 
Thank you so much for your words. God has been the one to give me the strength to keep going and progressing. I pray to him and he gives me what I need when I need it. Like good parent God don't sheld me from the pain or my own mistakes. He wants me to learn and progress and become a strong person. And everthing I have is from him. 

There are others that have been through this kind of pain too. If they read how open I am it will get them ability to take the next step in thier own healing. And Just a note that complet healing is possible. Just take it one step at a time and one will get there.

Thank you and hugs to you for being with me on my big step forward.


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## Linnifae (Nov 13, 2009)

Blue Butterfly:

I am SO sorry. That makes me incredibly sad and angry. I almost started crying reading about it. I'm sorry you didn't have the support system that you deserved. It's not justifiable or forgiveable in my opinion. Hopefully you do have better people in your life now.



As for my own experiences...what I've dealt with doesn't come close to comparing with many of the stories here, but it still had an impact on me I.... Basically my mom was Bi polar (I strongly suspect) and came from a verbally abusive/neglectful family life which skewed her perspective on things. She had very low self esteem and I sort of absorbed it, which neither of us wanted but it happened all the same. I don't want to go into it beause I really don't begrudge her of it. I hated living at home but now that I have moved out we got along wonderfully. She did the best she could, unfortunately her problems were just too much for her much of the time.


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## AirMarionette (Mar 13, 2010)

If we pull up a data file out of my memory and unlock the most prevalent abuse story it would look like this: 

*Accused, Age:* Grandfather, ~60
*Subject, Age:* Granddaughter, 5-6
*Deliberation:* 2nd base on a frequent basis (digital and lingual contact with genitalia). Referred to as a "tickle game". 
*Modus Operandi:* In solitude, lure child, sit child in lap, begin process; lie child in bed, repeat. Await till departure of grandmother from bed; initiate. Continue for undetermined time-span. 
*Short-term effects on subject: *This feels funny! 
*Long-term effects on subject:* Extreme intimacy issuez. Please-Don't-Touch-Me-Because-You're-Not-Getting-Laid-Tonight Syndrome. Psychological distaste and distance towards older men. Subsequent disturbing thoughts about older men. 
*Pathopsychology of Accused: *Emotionally disturbed. Cheated on wife. Lonely. 

There it is for your record. 
I ask that you don't express condolences.


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## Everyday Ghoul (Aug 4, 2009)

I always hold off in posting in these threads, for personal reasons, but I figure, screw it, why not? Let's see if drudging up some old wounds, will make the current ones, easier to deal with. Besides, nothing has defined me more as a person, than life experience, whatever my personality type may really be. It may also play a part in the great difficulties I have in discerning it. Anyway, where to start? 

Well, I'm a boy, and my favorite childhood toys were Barbie dolls, which I played inappropriate games with. The reason? My sister started dating one of our cousins. She needed an alibi for time spent with him. Her alibi was me. When she wanted to be alone with him, she would volunteer to watch me. I'm not sure whether I was just forced to see things I shouldn't have at that age (I was about four), or if I was molested, because the memories only come in fragments. However, they reach a point where I begin to sweat and feel like vomiting, when I try to dig them up too far. Sadly, these are also amongst my first memories. Also, one of my nephews recalls similar experiences with her. Anyway, the abuse was discovered when I cut myself "down there", with one of the dolls, and my brother told my mom about it. I don't know if my parents assumed I was just forced to watch or what, but they were far more concerned with the fact my sister was sleeping with my cousin. I remember screaming and crying, on different occasions, and taking it as far as breaking out a window once, trying to get away from her and my cousin. I also remember some 80's record playing and feeling very "dirty". I don't know a better way to describe it, but if you've been sexually abused, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

I have memories of a teacher molesting me, at about twelve. Guys always say that's the dream come true, the older teacher going for the younger guy. Yeah, it's really not that cool to be violated. Again, the memories are scattered and I can't prove them. However, I'm pretty sure, that she left the school for a nervous breakdown, shortly after the events in these memories would have occurred. I remember a broom closet and an apartment complex, and, again, that's as far as I can go, before I shut them down and out. The apartment complex is definitely there and definitely real. I've thought, quite a few times, about going inside one and seeing if the broom closet's location matches my memories, but I always chicken out. 

I shut off right after kindergarten. I didn't talk to any of the other kids, ever, after being the loudest bastard in the school. I would come home, and, being Catholic, would pray for one friend and cry myself to sleep, pretty much every night. I couldn't have really had friends, though. The house we lived in, wasn't worthy of habitation. We finally moved, when my nephew and I literally fell through a hole in the floor. I believed most of the other kids hated me, anyway, because I was the nun's favorite. I did good in school to make my father happy and the nun's happy, and it was all I was good at. I desperately wanted the love and approval of someone, anyone.

My father was the "monster on the couch". He would come home and usually yell and fight with my mom, leaving her in tears, and me, hiding in the bathroom, cowering in some corner, in tears. I hated myself for being that cowardly. I was so afraid of him, that if I lost a toy in his room, I'd run and hide. He liked to put me down, call me fat, stupid, a failure, etc. He still does all of that, to this day. I still respect him, out of fear, to this day. I've never stood up to him, not once. I was in my late twenties, before I finally realized I would never earn his approval or love, by being me. I hated his dog, because he freely expressed love for her, while still putting me down. I love my mother to death, but feel similarly about her. She would guilt trip me a lot, and, being my main source of love, I was scared to death, that she would stop loving me, if I didn't keep her pleased. I've secretly always resented her for that. Also, I've always felt, that she loves some idealized version of me, and not the "real" me. This deeply bothers me. 

After I got out of private school, my school life became a real nightmare. I was teased, hit, shoved, and bullied around from thirteen to sixteen, so much so, that were we the typical southern family, with the large gun collection, I would have lit that mother fucker up like Columbine. I would have panic attacks in class, rocking back and forth, praying to make it through one day, without any torture. 

I did whatever it took, to gain the love and acceptance of anyone I could find, like a dog. I took drugs, vandalized shit, stole shit, dropped out of school, whatever it took, to avoid losing my friends, despite not wanting to. Similarly, I got engaged to the first girl that showed the slightest bit of interest in me. That situation kind of finished me off. We were together for eight years, with the last seven spent in a contest to see who could hurt the other more. She was a pathological liar, a kleptomaniac, she cheated on me countless times (sometimes practically in front of me), put me down constantly, and had a bad meth habit for a while. On an end note, as someone else mentioned, I don't really want the sympathy or pity. However, in my case, it's because I can't trust in it. Once, when I had clinical depression, I tried to rely on her to be there for me, and she told me to stfu or hurry up and die. After that, anytime anyone has shown me compassion, pity, or sympathy, I've yelled at them for it, and have justed want to punch them in the face for it, because I can't help visualizing her patronizing me, that way, as she became so fond of doing.

The effects are still very obvious. I don't have a high opinion of myself or humanity, being a nihilist and misanthrope and hating myself and secretly resenting or envying pretty much everyone I know or meet. I have massive inferiority issues, issues with being touched, still keep company with all the wrong people (anyone willing to act like they care about me), hate falling in love (because it's torture), and continue to hit new personal lows in the things I'll do to attain and hold onto love and approval. I definitely do not come off like a feeler, because I don't let anyone in or show any part of myself, that the world seemed to deem a "weakness", which, in my eyes, were all of my feeler like traits. The people in my life, tend to get a straight face, anger, or aggression, powered by a hatred for my fellow man, that burns with the intensity of a thousand suns. I'm constantly told, that I'm far too negative and pessimistic and most of my "friends" that I've shared even a fraction of this with or have seen a display of my temper or dark side, have deemed it a small miracle, that I didn't turn out a serial killer or a mass murderer. Most of my "friends" have been terrified of me. 

The one thing in the world, I hold no objectivity about, is the abuse of children. If you know any children that are being abused or if you're younger, yourself, and are being abused, turn that shit in. Screwed up kids, turn into screwed up adults. If you don't believe me, try watching your 33 year old friend slowly kill herself and endanger the lives of her own children, or having your 31 year old best friend be the person you simultaneously love the most and fear the most. I finally turned in my former best friend to CPS, because I could no longer watch the boys' father figure, treat them the same way my father treated me, while she did nothing, because she was too busy being an unstoppable force of self-destruction, due to her childhood and father being even worse than mine.


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## Proteus (Mar 5, 2010)

What I went through as a child was not nearly as bad as what some others here have discussed, but I did go through many unpleasant things on my own level that served to shape who I am as a person.

My parents are both STJs who were pretty much bereft of empathy and emotion, and while they did not abuse me physically or verbally, they had very subtle means of getting to me, making me feel like shit. They treated me like an employee most of the time and as an inconvenience the rest of the time and had no concern or interest in me as an individual. I was not exactly what they wanted and was completely unwilling to conform to such standards. My individual personality did not interest them and was seen as something I had no business to develop; I had to conform to whatever mold they wanted me to fill and to do otherwise was completely not an option. Often I was referred to as incompetent, stupid, and other things along those lines. They would mutter things about me under my breath and when they thought I was out of earshot, and focus on my faults and always assumed I was up to no good. Perhaps the most damaging thing they did to me was to make me see a psychiatrist when I was around 12. I never received an explanation as to why, just “you need to understand some things”. Just another in a long line of situations in which some other person(s) judged that there was something “wrong” with me because I didn’t meet their expectations of normalcy.

I had the classic "didn't fit in anywhere or with anyone" at school as a child. Small, quiet, bookish, wore bad clothes, didn't like or play sports, sat around reading instead of participating in things = made me a target. I was a complete pariah until halfway through high school. While I never got beaten up or anything I got shoved down a fair share of hills and was the subject of a good bit of mockery. This type o f behavior towards myself and people like me was fully known by the administration, who turned a blind and uncaring eye to it. In fact, lots of my teachers hated me too. So many of them in my elementry and middle school years were incredibly stupid and I did not see them as having any valid authority or use to me as educators, and lots of them despised me despite me being a good student and never causing much trouble. The friends I had consisted of people I ate lunch with and talked to in class, but I seldom hung out with anyone outside of school. They were just people that helped pass the time. I eventually realized that none of these people or their opinions of me mattered, as that phase of my life was inconsequential in the long run. 

These things are all in the distant past now, and I try not to dwell on them. I can't go back and change anything; it all was what it was and I might not be who I am now if not for all of it. As for a lasting effect- it's extremely difficult for me to trust or to form any type of deep emotional connection with others, and my self confidence has...never been that high.


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## passerby (May 25, 2010)

Blue Butterfly said:


> In my childhood when I was eight I was gang raped. My mother heavenly defended the rapist.


This really affected me when I read your message.

I can't think of anything in my childhood that stands out. I'm lucky.

_Again, I'm very sorry to read what I read. I don't know what else to say._


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## LostInMyOwnMind (May 5, 2010)

I wish all of you the best in your own healing processes. I’ve tried for many years to come to grips with my own demons. I know the scars will never completely heal but hopefully I have learned to deal with them.

At the age of about 9 I was sexually abused by one of my mother’s cousins. He was a very successful man and always viewed as the family’s model of who you should grow up to be. Little did they know, in reality he was a fucking creepy slimeball. My mother and father were divorced before my earliest memories so I have no recollection of my father and my mother was always very cold and distant. Shortly after the incident with my mother’s cousin my mother remarried and both my mother and step father lived in an alcoholic stupor until it finally killed them both. It bothered me for a very long time that I was unable to shed a tear for either one of them. For years I always blamed myself for what my mother’s cousin had done as if there was something I could have done to prevent it. I now know there was nothing I could have done. Years later, when I was in my late teens, I mustarded up the courage to relate what happened to my mother and I will never forget her reaction, she laughed. I was very bitter over her reaction for many years. I have now come to the realization that, first, she more than likely didn’t know how to react, and second, she likely got some kind of pleasure in knowing her cousin wasn’t the model everyone made him out to be. I believe he was the standard of which his siblings fell short.

I can look back now and see a marked change in my personality at that time. Previously I was more of an A type, very outgoing and personable. I was voted class president in first grade. I’m now very much the opposite and doubt I would have even been noticed in my first grade class with my current personality traits.
Physical, mental and emotional abuse perpetuates itself. I have ALWAYS been very conscious of this when interacting with my own children and have taken it to task to break the circle of abuse. I hope I’ve done a good job, only time will tell.


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## Nexus6 (May 21, 2010)

There is no explanation for evil in this world. I promised Blue Butterfly I would post some information about a survivor who has written and spoken about his own experiences with trauma and tragedy, who made an impression in my life.

When I was studying Russian in college I once went with several of my Russian teachers to listen to a lecture given by a Holocaust survivor and author named Elie Wiesel. My teachers themselves were Russian Jews and no strangers to totalitarian evil, Ala whose first husband had been killed for being a dissident and Anna whose father was taken away in the night and returned several weeks later in a state of physical and emotional trauma after being brutalized by Soviet thugs. 

I was 19. I had read Wiesel’s book “Night” and several of his essays before the lecture and felt compelled out of my sheer youthful innocence to bring Wiesel a gift, a token of my respect and compassion for him. I brought a small bouquet of flowers and I remember setting them on the stage before he sat down at the table and began to speak of his experience of pain, survival and recovery. The image of those flowers burned themselves into my memory as I listened to him speak, almost as a metaphor of innocence. Anna took my arm after I set them there saying in Russian “That kindness…remember…the tallest blades of grass are the ones cut first.”

Wiesel’s speech was electrifying. Somehow this man, who had endured agony, was not only able to accept that he could never make sense of his tragedy, but also knew that this struggle had brought him closer to his God. Wiesel said: 

*"How can we imagine what is beyond imagination... How can we retell what escapes language?"*

*“I have not lost faith in God. I have moments of anger and protest. Sometimes I've been closer to him for that reason.”*

I remember him saying how the nights in the camp and directly after were a torment to him and a time of healing. He described how his mind was a red, red fire, in which he was able cauterize the wounds inflicted on him in the camp, not necessary heal them.

Wiesel went on in his life to write and work for the causes of compassion and humanity. I believe that survivors of trauma and tragedy can find some element of solace and commiseration in his words. Something that struck me to the core about him was his humility and his passion and how they coexisted in his being without breaking him. His wisdom is a gift to all of us.

“I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented” 

“I write to understand as much as to be understood.”

“Indifference, to me, is the epitome of evil.”

“Just as despair can come to one only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings. “

http://www.eliewieselfoundation.org/eliewiesel.aspx

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Night_(book)


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## Blue Butterfly (Sep 19, 2009)

Nexus6 said:


> There is no explanation for evil in this world. I promised Blue Butterfly I would post some information about a survivor who has written and spoken about his own experiences with trauma and tragedy, who made an impression in my life.
> 
> When I was studying Russian in college I once went with several of my Russian teachers to listen to a lecture given by a Holocaust survivor and author named Elie Wiesel. My teachers themselves were Russian Jews and no strangers to totalitarian evil, Ala whose first husband had been killed for being a dissident and Anna whose father was taken away in the night and returned several weeks later in a state of physical and emotional trauma after being brutalized by Soviet thugs.
> 
> ...


I have been setting here for several hours thinking about how best to reply to this and I am not coming up with very much at all. I do have to say you touched me very deeply. Very deeply indeed. I need time to think about my emotions about this post.

Thank you for letting me know there is someone out there like you. Most people are just cold and indifferent to people like me that has gone through trauma. One does gain something from the trauma. One gains a knowing they have strength beyond what they thought they had. They also gain the understanding that this world is not always roses and sweet smells. There are bad things out there but people live their life like none of this will ever happen to them. When in fact it could happen to any of us. There is that deep connection with God that one must make to survive too. Thanks for mentioning that.


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