About Me

I have little time for.....well, anything. 4 kids, job, and yes, I decided at 33 that further education seemed like fun. I am terribly interested in politics, social problems, and brain injury.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Childhood Trauma

The crazy thing about being traumatized as a child is that the perpetrator is almost always someone you knew and possibly relied upon.

I thought I was ok, that forgiveness had settled and the hate was over. Then I had the startling realization that the same monster I had forgiven had BROKEN my siblings and put himself in a position to break other innocent victims. Now I believe that the only cure is for him to eat a bullet.

As children, we suffered every abuse at the hands of this monster, yet I exposed my children to him, believing momentarily that he may have something to offer them. I realized I was no better than my mother for exposing innocents to a known evil.

I can talk quite openly about the physical abuse, hell we laugh about it sometimes. While we were beaten in every way, even a steel toe boot to the head, it never broke our souls. It was the other abuse that left the marks that would render me jumpy and nervous and my brother and sister incapable of surviving within normal societal roles.

Our mother gave birth to three children. Maybe it was mental illness, or maybe selfishness, but she simply could not hack motherhood. To be fair, bio dad wasn't such a gem either. I guess I was ok, but brother and sister, he wanted to kill.....all the time. After the clean up, the foster home, and our future step dad's force, we went back to her. I wish, oh how I wish that this story could just end with a happy reunification. For us, that would not be.

She gave us in exchange for our suffering in the foster home, a monster. Our gift came packaged with severe PTSD from Vietnam. He had little time or patience with three little kids and had some......tendencies. Wasn't too long until my sister and I were introduced to this side of evil with teeth. Here's the thing about childhood sexual abuse...sure it's just body parts...but someday you will use those parts. On that day all of the shame and pain will return and remain with you forever because it's a sordid mark on your soul. One you can never wash away.

There is something very surreal about comparing your lovers penis as a grown up with the one your step dad forced you to touch at the age of five while scaring you away from having sex...as a kindergartner. If only pedophilia ended there...unfortunately for the perpetrator and victim it is never a one time event.