How fast a day can change for me. I was doing really good this morning. When I got up early, I did all the morning chores, fed cats inside and out, got the news programs set up, got something to eat. Started replying to comments and was basically having a good day. I figured I would have to stop in the afternoon to finish the laundry before Ron and James came home in a few days.
But reality has a way of smacking me around sometimes. After I watched the morning news I checked my news feeds, the web pages that when opened show me the lists or blocks of news I have not seen since I last opened the pages. My dogs that love gravy, did the entire world go on an abuse kids kick while I was sleeping? !!!!
Ok I know how to handle a few bad stories about kids being abused or raped. I had my guards up. So the first one I read was about a school in Connecticut, then a few stories later a story of a juvenile prison abusing kids that was written very explicitly. I mean very step by step how the kids were abused. I was still on my feet so to speak. Then I read not one but two stories from England and …
Before I could get my breath, the vortex was here. I struggled to get away and to find something else to fill my thoughts. But I was taken to the time before I was in kindergarten, I was 3 and 4 and it would continue until we moved due to the charges of abuse against my adoptive parents. My entire afternoon is gone. I had so much I wanted to do.
Now that my mind is out of the vortex, but not yet secure, the howling winds and memories tearing at me are still there, I want to write this, they say it helps when I need to go back later. I am not sure I agree but here it is.
Should I change the color? Everyone knows I write in blue because I like the color. Ok yes I am stalling. I just lost 4 or 6 hours of my life trapped in memories of my own abuse, I think I can be confused about what color to use. Shit I do not think I can get through this.
Ok when I was taken to live with the people I was to call mother and father, and their hell spawn brothers / sisters the house I first remember was on a U shaped street. That was not the first house I was in, and I remember bits and pieces of the bus ride to them, but not enough to put much together.
But I do remember that house and the fact I had to sleep in a hallway, I had no bed. The girl next door who was older than me but I don’t remember her that well, would come over and ask if I could come over to her house to play. I did not want to, but I never refused, but choices were not left to me away.
I learned not to make a fuss but to just go with her to her place on the second floor of an apartment building. The stairs seemed steep and gravity strong for little me to walk up. Here her brother, who years later I learned was a Vietnam vet, was waiting to welcome me. The girl that invited me to play with her then went somewhere else and I spent the visit with her brother.
My memories this afternoon have been rough, I won’t sugar coat them for you. But as much as I have cried and suffered today, I also won’t take you through the most graphic descriptions of my time in that appartement. But I do need to gently and as vaguely as possible describe my time there to help you understand. Hell sometimes I really want the things in my head to just go away, but the only way to do that is with death, and I am not ready for that yet.
OK I have to deal with it … Trigger warning about child abuse, physical and sexual…
Remember I was only three when I got there, and we did not move until what was the equivalent of government child services in that state charged my adoptive parents with abuse until I was finishing the 1st grade. So maybe 6years old?
OK I have delayed enough. So she would take me by the hand, help me up the steps to their apartment and then basically hand me over to her brother. I never felt apprehension about what was going to happen because he was always nice. He treated me far better than I got treated at home. Remember (maybe some don’t know) at this time I was being so badly abused in my home I had my hip dislocated and had to be taken to a doctor to have it reinserted back into the hip joint. But only after weeks of me not being able to walk correctly. Years later my doctors would attribute the bone troubles I have today to the abuse I suffered during childhood.
Wow even though I decided to write this my mouth is still dry and I am struggling to do it.
So let’s not dwell too much on the actual sex in the sexual abuse as I think you all know what part of him went into what parts of me. I really want to talk about my feelings, that is what is important. But sadly to do that I have to add one more detail. My memories always involve him using / setting up a wooden chair like a common kitchen chair in most homes including my own. When Ron bought them from a thrift store and I went to help him get them I nearly freaked out. He still doesn’t know.
Sorry a bit graphic. He was always gentle and nice with me, unlike what I got at home. He would undress me and then after playing with me for a while he would put me up on the chair and … you don’t need to know any more … I wish I could say I am angry at him or that I hate him, but compared to the abuse / pain I was being inflicted to at home I would have done anything he asked. And I did. I doubt people can understand what went through the mind of a 4 / 5 year old having someone touch them nicely.
He committed suicide, I remember people talking about it. People said it was because he was a Vietnam veteran. But no one thought to ask why his sister never came over to invite me to their home anymore. I never understood it all. But what I did know was while he was gentle the ones at home became more violent every day causing me to try to find more ways to hide.
Dogs that love gravy I have written this last part four times already. Look how can I have anger at someone who treaded me better than I was treated at home? But at the same time it was sexual abuse. I spent a lot of time today in the vortex. I have laundry to fold / finish, and I have not eaten since yesterday. I really just want to crawl into bed and make the world go away. But I must do what I can do.
Wow, I just realized that typing this out has my mind going other places freeing me from the threat of the vortex. Hugs