There Comes a Point

 *TRIGGER WARNING* for those that need one. 

One of the hardest things I had to drag into the light was that my mother was a horrid human being. That was devastating. It was traumatic and it still hurts. I don’t know it may always. I used to vacillate between being super angry and the calm acceptance of knowing shit happens. Now it’s just mostly the knowing. Tiny little human beings are gifted to the absolute worst beings. The realization that shit happens saved my sanity. Finally knowing in the depths of my heart that it really WAS NOT ME, it was nothing I did wrong, I wasn’t born defective or lacking worth, I wasn’t the one with the problem. That would be my mother and my stepfather and in the end honestly just my mom. It was my mom’s choice to stay with one of the most detestable beings I’ve ever known or known of. 

Some people would be inclined to make a whole bunch of excuses as to why she stayed but really it doesn’t matter. She knew better. She also knew that she had handed me, her child, over to a monster. The abuse started when I was 2/3 years old. She would leave him from time to time but she always went back. She said my entire life “It’s you and me against the world.” “It’s them ( meaning literally everyone else) it’s not us.” These phrases were drilled into me, I was kept isolated from everyone who was not “family” and I was so very lonely. I was standing in a drug rehab the first time I saw a sign that said “It’s not them” I just stood there and started crying, sobbing because it’s like somehow, someone knew and I was finally not alone. But it wasn’t just my mom, it was my entire family. There is no way a child could be that abused and neglected and everyone not know. People don’t like you saying that though because everyone wants deniability. Honestly what they really want is for everyone to not know what a piece of shit they are. People want to say it was just that one person or “oh damn!” maybe there’s two sick people in a family but the truth is sickness can run in entire families. It did in mine. If you have five people in a circle and four of them turn around so the fifth person can beat, rape, and neglect the child in the middle then everyone in the circle is guilty. That’s the cold hard truth of the matter. Saying I don’t want to get involved or that’s not my child is the same as saying go ahead, I’ll pretend it didn’t happen and that you’re not a monster.

I lost all my possessions as a child multiple times, was homeless, lived in a dope house, lived in a car many times, some places were worse than others but none of them was exactly good. I watched my step-father beat my mom and my mom ignore him abusing me. He made a game out of finding the worst names to call me, fatty, tubby, tubbeth because calling me tubby got old, I was routinely called whore, slut, skank anything but my name. We moved at least every six months, I never went to the doctor. I was never allowed to have anyone to come over to my house and I wasn’t allowed to go to anyone else’s. I spent months at a time not allowed to leave my room. I was allowed out to go to school, eat and use the bathroom and that was all. I’d spend entire summers in my room. 

The abuse never stopped, it was verbal, emotional, physical and sexual. And no one ever said anything. Not one single person in my family said this isn’t right, what you’re doing is wrong. It was like they all just thought it was perfectly acceptable, and for the better part of my life I believed that at my core, at the center of my soul I was bad, rotten, unlovable, unworthy, worthless, defective and broken. What to do with that? That kind of pain and hurt? That kind of overwhelming fear? Hide it, don’t let anyone know how you feel and do your best to be invisible. And I was really good at being invisible, I would go to a new school and about 6 months later when my mom would pull me out again, no one would even know I was ever there. That’s how I also felt inside invisible, unloveable and always so alone. 

People get really uncomfortable when you start talking about the specific shit that happens to sexually abused kids. They squirm around and look for a way to exit the conversation. I believe that’s because as humans we can swallow vast amounts of shit to keep from having to deal with painful things and sexual assault on a child is one of the worst things that exists. There came a point though when I just had to stop. I had to just stop looking for a reason why. It was wearin me out. When it’s all said and done I survived the nightmare.I’ve worked really hard to be able to SAY IT! To speak the horror and give it a damn name. The cycle of abuse can be stopped, the savagery that is perpetrated against children can end. But it’ll take a lot of us saying, This Is My Story. This is how I not only survived but how I healed. We can heal ourselves and we heal others by making safe spaces to tell our stories in and the telling invites healing to begin. 

Such as it is, I offer you this space for you to feel safe, accepted and so very loved. 
Namaste ❤

5 thoughts on “There Comes a Point

  1. I cannot begin to imagine the pain and horror you went through. I know, though, that it takes immense courage and fierce self love to stand up and talk about what you went through and offer safe space for others who have been through a similar experience. xx

    Liked by 2 people

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