This woman is a good person. She goes to church there or four times a week. She volunteers 4 days in the church thrift stores. She is not a bad person; she really is very nice, not just bright. So one day I was working on her computers, and it was something I needed to do about 3 times each month.
As I was working on her two computers, she kept telling me about her god’s love. Until I exploded!
Where was your god every time I was repeatedly raped as a kid, and why did he not stop it? Did he enjoy watching it? I admitted shouting.
She was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, Scottie, he was holding your hands. Really, I know the guys holding my hands. I knew the girls who were holding my head to force me down on their sex organs. I nearly walked out of the house. That level of stupidity is stunning, that level of excusing the abuse I had as a kid, to give her god credit.
I did finish the job. I also asked her if she wanted me to work on her stuff she kept her god herself. For the last 10 years that has been the truce we have. She still thinks her god is the entirety of existence, and she doesn’t seem to understand that her god watched each of my rapes, the violent rapes, the forced to drink urine, the tied to a stair rails so I could be raped by teenage males. Damn I have to get some relief. I think soon my head will explode. Maybe it should. I am tired. Maybe …maybe. No, not yet, not now. I promised Randy I would tell him before I did. Not yet, not now. But ever closer.
I just don’t understand why a good god would have watched what happened to me and let it go on, no matter what about free will. What about my free will not to be raped or forced to give blowjobs? Doesn’t that count to her god? Hugs
Scottie's Playtime 
That’s how we know there is no god, or are no gods or superior beings of sny kimd. I was forced to go to Sunday School every Sunday, by the very man who was beating on me. Maybe he thought God forgave his actions every week, I have no idea. Probably he just needed to know it was okay to beat me, to rape my sisters. Noone could stop him. I prayed real hard that God would take him away to wherever he took my mother to. Yeah, I believed, until I stopped believing. If God was a god of love, he loved the man in my life. Fuck you, god. Fuck you!
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So keep letting it out, Scottie. Every little bit helps. Keep letting it out.
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Hi Jerry. I do worry that in getting the poison out of me I am pushing that poison on to others harming them. The memories and feelings I have are tearing me apart. How can I ask others to learn and know of them? It will hurt them also is the feeling I have. I care about other people; I have empathy for others something my abusers did not seem to have. Anyway thank you for all your support. I have to weigh my needs to voice my pain and if doing so will be causing pain to others. Hugs
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Don’t worry about other people. Your tragedies are not ours. Worry about yourself for once, you have the greatest need right now. And please do consider what I said to you on your blog. I know you didn’t like it the first time I said it. But it can’t make anything worse for you, and it just might help. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
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Hi Rawgod. I am sorry you also had to live that life. How can such people be? How do they rationalize the anger and hate they have? My abuser adopting male never made even a pretense of being religious. My adopting mother and abusing female siblings for a few years pretended to be religious until they got tired of pretending and just stopped. By then I was being used by the preacher / pastor.
I hated the violence more than the sex. If the person was just wanting to get off and did not hurt me I could deal with that. But not knowing when or where the next blow was coming from left me terrified most of the time. I got so good at ducking under the table at meal times I could do it without thinking; as soon as the violence started I was under the table before I could think about it. I was seriously underweight and couldn’t eat at home even when allowed food. I got to the point where the only meal I had each day was at school for lunch and what I could sneak or get when no one was around on the weekend. The hellspawn sibling sister who trafficked me most weekends would make sure I got fed when the adopting parents were not around. After all it made me more compliant and willing to do as she told me with whom she told me to do it with.
One of the worst beatings I got was when someone stood up for me stopping a beating in public. When I got home I was blindsided. As I walked into the house. I have written about it before. After the beating, the adopting male violently raped me while hitting and hurting me. He taunted me the entire time. Where was the person who interfered now? He left me in a pile on the floor to come back, drag me to the kitchen and pissed on me. Demanding after I clean it up. I hated being in that house. I spent as much time out of it as I could get away with. As long as I was there when they wanted to use me they did not care what I did or where I went. People have asked me why I did not run away. I felt I had no where to go or how to survive in the deep country where there were more cows than people. Hugs
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You’re more generous than I. When I was in the business I exercised my right to refuse service to anyone. I wouldn’t do anything for those people ~ those kind. Just as likely to download a bug …
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