You always hear of it going on but never do you think it could happen to you. Well this is my story, worst of all my abuser was someone who was supposed to love, treasure and care for me, instead I was like a play toy.
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For as long as I can remember I suffered handfuls of beatings. It became a daily thing, something that I thought was right as it happened so much.
Growing up I was the typical child, never did what I was told to the first time, just generally the misbehaving child. I was in for a big wake up call, one that would hit me at 1000 miles an hour. I can remember vividly as if it was yesterday, I was only about 5 or 6 and I was watching TV in my parent’s room.
I was asked to do something and I was so engrossed in the TV I didn’t hear what was said to me. The next thing I knew I had a pair of hands wrapped around my neck, cutting off my airway. Then came the punches, my mother walked out the room and left my dad to finish beating me.
The next time it happened was because I was sent home from school having had a rather bad nose bleed. Mum was called at work to come and collect me. I knew what was heading my way when I got home, I just didn’t realize it would be as bad as it turned out to be. I was sent to my room, without dinner. I feel asleep and woke to my dad entering my bedroom.
I lay on my bed pretending to still be asleep but the first blow knocked me for six. I was punched in the head, stomach and face. I came round a while later. I was soaking wet, I had wet myself. I went to the bathroom to clean up and was horrified when I saw the person staring back at me in the mirror. Was that really me?
I looked like I had been in the ring with Mike Tyson. Black eyes, bloody nose, fat lip and bruises all over my chest and body.
I was always in the wrong. I can remember it was open evening at the Secondary school, I wanted to go. My mom asked me to get a loaf of bread out of the freezer. I forgot and she asked me again and I went to get the bread out. I got hold of the handle and pulled it open. Only trouble was I pulled from the side of the freezer which in turn broke the handle. I knew what was coming.
I was pushed up against the front door, I was being punched and kicked. Everything went back to normal soon after the beating and off to the school open evening I went. I was talking to my friends whilst we waited and they saw the bruising on my leg. They asked how it happened and I told them. It was normal to me but to them they were horrified.
When I got home from school the next day, I went to my room to get changed, like I did every day. My dad came up to me and asked me what I had said to people, as social services were coming over to see us.
Nothing ever happened with social services, in total they were called out 3 times and did nothing to help me.
The physical abuse continued for years. When I was a bit older the emotional and sexual abuse can along with the physical.
As I was reaching puberty things changed with dad. The physical abuse took a step back but the emotional abuse started, and then followed the sexual. I was a fat, useless kid. No one would ever be friends with someone like me. I was ugly, I would never be happy nor would I ever find a boyfriend. I was damaged goods, no one wanted damaged goods.
This was a daily thing and I believed it. Who would want me, a fat ugly beast? I became depressed and wanted to escape. I thought of killing myself several times.
By now I was 14 years old. I had developed into a young teenager. My first bra was a 36C. Bigger than my mother which I loved. I had been diagnosed with Epilepsy and was struggling to deal with that and then had a bigger issue to deal with. My dad coming into my room nearly every night once mom was asleep to “do his deed”.
It started off gradually, just as if he was breaking me in. It didn’t last long, in a matter of weeks it was full blown sex. It was our little secret, no one was to ever find out otherwise I’d suffer. This went on for just over a year when I finally lost it with him.
I had borrowed a camcorder from a friend and set it up without my parents knowing and filmed it. I now had my leverage and I used it to my advantage. The next time he came into my room, I waited for my opportunity and brought him to his knees. I warned him I had footage and I was prepared to use it, I was sick and tired of him treating me like his punch bag and using me as his sex toy.
Unfortunately he didn’t believe me and thought I needed punishing for threatening him. It was the last straw. The police were called, mainly to scare him beyond belief and it worked. That was the last time he touched me. Sadly the damage was already done.
Ever since then I have had massive issues with men, I have had massive issues trusting, that I won’t be beaten, put down or raped.
I am now 25 and have been in a relationship since I was 20 and it took me 2 years to tell him about the physical abuse and 4 years about the sexual abuse. He has been my rock and has supported me and been a massive contribution to the person i have become today.
When you’re going through something like that your made to believe its right that its natural but it’s not and it saddens me to know that this goes on and a lot of people don’t have the strength to stand up to their abusers. I have been very lucky, I escaped and I’m alive to tell me story.
There is always a way out, you just have to find it.
This post is an anonymous guest post to highlight the effects of physical, emotional and sexual abuse.
