Child Abuse Story From Kimberly

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

When you first look at me, you think I'm just a shy normal teenager. When you first talk to me, you still think I'm pretty normal. Not once would anyone suspect that I am a survivor of physical and emotional abuse.

I had a pretty normal childhood until I was six and my younger brother was three. My parents had a lot of trouble controlling my brother, and after a while gave up on any sort of normal punishment. Then my adopted grandpa came up with the idea of using a paint stick to beat my brother and I when we were bad. My parents used it well. Instead of using time-out, every time my brother did something bad, they took out the "stick" and severely beat him with it. I can remember the first day I had been hit with it. Shortly after I had been hit for getting beads on the floor, my mom ran up to my brother's room and took the "stick" which was by now, two paint sticks taped together, and beat him so hard the paint sticks broke. I can remember sitting in the kitchen listening to my brother's screams.

As time went on, it got worse and worse. I usually avoided the "stick" but my brother did not. And then one day, I was arguing with my best friend up in my room. My parents took my best friend's side and came into my room, pushed her out and I was beaten until I had 1/2 to 1" deep welts on my body. This was on my 12th birthday.

After this, my parents stopped suddenly with the abuse. After the physical abuse stopped and my brother seemed to be more 'controlled' (only by fear), emotional abuse set in. I was the main target. I am 15 now, and to this day I am being emotionally abused.

After a year of being told how terrible I was, I was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. The emotional abuse has gotten so much worse since then. My parents take whatever chance they get. If I walk outside to try and talk to them, I am immediately called worthless, self-centered and told that I can't do anything right. If my brother is in the room, they brag about how good he is and give him lots of attention in front of me to show that he is more important that I am. I am shunned away from my family and given the message that I'm not good enough. And at this point, I believe them because up until this past year, I have had no one to tell me differently.

During this past year, I was able to find people who I thought I could trust and tell. And they have had the hardest battle with me trying to prove that what my parents have said is wrong. So far, it hasn't worked and almost everyone who has tried to help has now given up on me.

I'm afraid to heal. The effects that I deal with every day seem almost impossible to fix.

My message though is to make sure you tell anyone, and get out in the beginning! Tell people until they listen! It's the only way to get out!

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 2

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

Pretty much, I was abused as a child. Both my parents did it because they thought it was a good way to punish us for things we supposedly had done wrong. This has impacted me psychologically. I am constantly haunted by memories of the abuse: particularly 2 instances.

One was on my 12th birthday. I was having a screaming fight with my friend, because I had not known better. My parents really liked my friend. So they both came up the stairs, my dad with his look on his face. I sat on my chair and screamed no at them when I saw them come up. My mom shuffled my friend out of the room and my dad proceeded to beat me. I sat in a chair and he screamed in my face and smacked me with what is known as the "stick". It's pretty much a gigantic paint stick. I was smacked multiple times on both shoulders and on the top of my knees. I was sitting down so that is all he could hit. I had deep welts on my knees and shoulders and it took about a month for them to heal completely. I remember the sight of them and how freaky they looked. I remember telling my friend about it and him telling me I should go see a doctor. It is one of the memories that constantly haunts me.

The other is when my brother and I were going to a friend's house to spend the night. All the doors were locked and I left with my brother. He decided to get something and run back inside. Apparently my dad came home a few minutes after we left and found everything unlocked and open. He was furious. I spent the night and came home the next day. My dad came home and I was standing in my room behind my dresser, next to my closet. It was the only thing that kept me from getting it worse. He screamed at me and lectured me while he whipped his thick leather belt at me. I was only hit on the inside of my legs right at the joint of my knee. I had welts of course. I remember going to see if my brother was alright and look at his welts. He had been hit straight across the middle of his leg. Both of these instances were during the summer time. I am now haunted by them and they refuse to leave.

Another instance that has harmed me is the time where my dad almost released me to foster care. My brother and I were supposed to clean our 3-storey house that day and goofed off and didn't get it done. My dad came home and I was standing at the top of the stairs watching him. He took off his belt and hit it against the rail of the stairs trying to give a so called warning. He told me and my brother, "Go pack your stuff. You're leaving." My brother and I then proceeded to pack up all our clothes that we had, crying, all the while knowing where we were going. Eventually I tried the last thing I could. I screamed that I was sorry to him. This one little thing worked. We had a family meeting and talked about a lot of things. This was shortly after the instance with the belt. It was the summer before 6th grade because I remember packing the trumpet that I hadn't learned to play yet.

All of these have left emotional scars on me that will probably never be erased. Because of the fact that my dad almost released my brother and I to foster care, I don't trust adults. I've learned that they'll do nothing but hurt me or get rid of me if I do something wrong. This is where a lot of the trusting issues I have going on come from.

During the time that I was being abused, something took place and my brother was hit. We'd been learning about abuse at the time in my 4th grade class. We had to answer a couple questions and the last question was if you wanted to talk to the teacher about abuse because you knew something was going on. I remember sitting in my class trying to decide what to put there. All my friends were telling me to put yes on the paper. I eventually gave in to the peer pressure but was never talked to unless I requested it. Finally I requested to talk to my teacher and she pulled me out of class. She grabbed the counselor and took me into her room. We sat, and there and I told them what had happened. I thought that they would do something if I told them. I was terribly wrong. They did nothing and I was abused for another few years, up until my 12th birthday. It has stopped for now, but my parents are very unpredictable in what they do. I don't know if they'll ever start it again. They've threatened plenty of times though. This also has created more trust issues. I had come to them in confidence that they would do something and in return, got nothing but had to deal with more pain. That's another reason why.

Mainly that is all the past stuff that I can think of that's haunted me.

Pretty much though because of that, many things have been done. I hate lectures now because every time I got lectured, I got hit and I was afraid. This is why I can't stand lectures. What I've learned to do is zone out and tell myself that I was going to be ok and that I could survive this.

Now on to situations that I've dealt with or that I'm dealing with that have affected me.

After the abuse ended in middle school, I dedicated my life to my family. I was not allowed to do anything other than band or a sport of some kind. I would go to school, come home, do chores, cook dinner, do homework and go to bed. I had no life. My mom at the time was getting worse and I had to be there for her. I was her support system for the longest time. Every problem she had was my problem. I had to listen to her whine and cry and be there for her if it happened. My feelings didn't matter and I got in trouble if I showed them. I had to listen to everything she said and do nothing but comfort her. That was my life. Nothing about me mattered. It was all about her and her issues. I suppressed my feelings for the longest time. Now, it's hard to identify them in the first place. I acted like they didn't matter for so long that I really am not sure what they are now. I'm developing that slowly but it's a difficult process. This is also where I learned to help others before myself. This is why I'm so good with dealing with others' emotions and problems instead of my own. I've learned full and well to put my emotions aside for others'.

Also my family, with all our health problems are big sports fans. My parents got my brother into sports at an early age and that's all he does now. He's super skinny and very athletic. My parents did nothing but put me in sports for the longest time, hoping that I would be as good as my brother. If I didn't play a good game in my sports, I wasn't good enough. I tried sport after sport and failed miserably. I went from soccer to softball to volleyball and failed at all of them. I was always the worst on the team and never did anything good. My parents didn't like it. My parents didn't like how "big" I was getting. They didn't like my weight at all because I wasn't like my skinny brother. I was always pushed to do extra things to lose weight. I've even been told to stop eating just so that I could lose enough weight to fit in with what they wanted me to be. It never worked. My parents frown in shame when they check my weight at the doctor and it's never good enough. I was doing sports up until I was diagnosed with JRA (Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis). I was trying my best to fit in with what they wanted me to be until I was in so much pain, I couldn't. Now my parents just shun me away like I don't matter. I'm not good enough to do sports or be what they want. They don't support me at all because they are so ashamed of what I've become. I'm not loved by them in any way shape or form. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I'll never be accepted by them and I'll never be good enough. I've had to come to terms with the fact that they don't love me for who I am. It's been one of the worst things I've done in my life.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 3

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

There is huge favoritism in my household. My parents let my brother get whatever he wants because he's their perfect little boy. My parents have spent over $300 on him for stuff he didn't need and then told me they didn't have money for me to buy lunch THIS YEAR! They spend so little money on me and get my brother everything he desires. If there is something going on for my brother and for me at the same time, my parents fight over who gets to go to my brother's stuff, no matter how important my stuff is. I'm always the person that no one in my family wants to go with. I'm always the last person to be taken anywhere because according to them, I don't matter.

Now I'm just a person looking for love and support. Everyone is parents to me except my own. I learn lessons from friends rather than parents and it's not a good feeling. Because of the fact that I've never been good enough for my family, I'm very ashamed of myself and who I've become because it doesn't meet their standards. I also have no confidence. I look at myself as terrible because they look at me as terrible.

I'm frequently verbally attacked by my family. I'm told how worthless I am and how much I don't matter to people and don't matter to life. If I show any kind of feeling other than happy around my family, I'm called a wimp and a big baby. This is why I don't show emotion in public or tell how I'm feeling because I'm so afraid of being attacked and told how much of a big baby I am. It hurts me so terribly to know that I'm living a fake life. I've created my shell to cover my feelings that are going on and have saved them for when I'm alone and no one can see or judge me.

Because I've been judged so harshly by my family, I hate being judged (obviously). I am always afraid of saying something that will make people think that I'm a bad person.

Also, because I've never had anyone to depend on but myself and learned from my parents that I don't matter, I always feel like a burden to people because I don't want to put too much on you because even a little was too much for my parents. I hate being a burden, because every time I was to my parents, I got a lot of crap for it. It never ended and it never will.

I don't know if all of this classifies as abuse or not.

But to this day, I'm being emotionally abused. So many people have told me to get out but I can't. I still have another 3 years to survive in this house before I can be free. I live in constant fear that my parents will start the physical abuse again. I live in fear of most people. So far in my life, I have been lucky to be able to trust two adults. I have so many issues that people who first meet me have no clue about. Every day I live is a struggle. And up until this point, I really don't have anything to do about it. I've put so much stress on my friends because I don't know how I'm supposed to handle this or help myself through it all. I believe the lies my parents tell me. I know they are lies but I still believe them because of how much they've been crammed into my head. And now, I don't know what to do but survive and struggle through each and every day of my life.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 4

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

As I continue to think about things, I realize that at this point, I am struggling with everything that's happened and the effects. And I have no friends to talk to that would listen. So I decided I would write here as an addition to my story.

Basically, the abuse has done much more than I have ever realized. I look back at times that were really kind of scary.

I remember talking to my best friend on the phone shortly after the physical abuse had ended. I told her that if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have survived up to that point and would have probably taken my own life. At the moment, that was what I felt and that best friend was my "rock" through most of the physical abuse. She flipped out and told her counselor, who told my counselor at school. I was in 7th grade. My parents got a phone call that I was suicidal. I lied to them and made up reasons for why I felt that way, though it was from the abuse I suffered. I never talked to a school counselor about anything personal again. I still don't. I'm so afraid that I'll say something and my parents will be called and I'll get in deep trouble.

Then, just this past year, because of the pain I was suffering from my past, and the emotional abuse and a few other things that were going on, I slipped into depression over the summer. During this time, even though my world was almost falling apart, I was held together by the two adults who stuck by me and did their best to lift me up. They were the closest thing I had to parents. And on a Saturday night, the pain was too much for me. I put a post on Facebook saying that I wanted to die, because I could no longer handle the pain. Both adults saw that and called the police. They showed up at my house. It was a terrible night. My parents being blind-sighted made it all that much worse. That day, when I was gone at church, my parents went through my email and read some of the conversations I had saved. They then mocked me about the abuse, saying that it didn't exist and it was all fair discipline. I never believed that. They also told me it was their job as parents to point out all of my faults, though they never did this to my brother. I was considered the bad child, and still have that label.

My parents refuse to accept that what they did was wrong. And at this point, I don't know if I can ever forgive them or trust them.

And because of the issues I have with my family, it almost always seems to spread to everyone that's close to me.

I continuously find myself trying to do what others want me to do, to fit in with them so I won't have the continuous feeling of loneliness that has become almost my best friend. I do my best to please, and beat up on myself, physically and mentally when I can't. And because I'm trying to be what they want me to, I find myself fake and unreal and don't know how to discover who my real self is. I don't even feel like real friends even exist anymore. They all deserted me when I went through depression. And I'm so frustrated that my parents' distorted thinking caused all of this. This pain, this struggle that I continuously go through.

And just recently, I've had an adult come tell me that I needed therapy to help me. And has offered to find information for me. But even though I'm interested, I'm not sure I can tell a therapist what I've gone through and what I continue going through for the fear that she may have to report it. And I really don't know what to do. I can't trust. I can't seem to do anything right.

I'm struggling so bad right now with everything that has happened through my dark life. I know I don't have it the worst, but I look at other people in my life and wonder why I can't be happy. I have no true friends anymore. I have no one to trust or to talk to that won't judge me. And I don't know what to do.

And every time I get into this state, somehow suicide always creeps into my head. And I think about when I will die and how I will die and if living this life is even worth it. I think about how it would affect others. I've had very weak, stupid attempts to commit suicide like poisoning myself but it's never worked out.

People tell me all these positive things about me. And I just don't see what they see. I can't accept compliments and don't understand why people see me as smart or beautiful or anything like that. I know my weaknesses very well but when I try to think about strengths, I come up with none. I don't know who I am. I don't know how to break walls down.

I feel psychotic writing this. I don't understand how people stand me and I probably never will.

Thanks for continuing to listen to me.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 5

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

I know I keep writing here. Thank you Darlene for posting my stories on here. Your site is truly something that can help so many people.

There is a lot I can say on here, that I feel I should say to help myself. Specifically 2 parts. Both parts will kinda seem contradicting but it's what I'm going through.

Recently, I've discovered that for the longest time I kept a lot of the memories from the abuse that I had locked away so that I would never have to deal with them again. But in the past week, multiple incidents I went through popped into my memory and now won't leave me alone.

One of the memories is that of a regular school night. My dad was always big into his TV, and once a remote went missing (we had 3 different ones at the time) he flipped out. One of the remotes had been missing for a while and he had just noticed it. He called me and my brother down to the bottom of the stairs. He gave us each a warning hit with "the stick" and told us that if we didn't find his remote before we went to bed that night, we would get severely punished. My brother and I then proceeded to tear up the whole house to find the remote in major fear. We looked for about half an hour, when he decided that we had 15 minutes to find it before the punishment took place. My brother and I became frantic. My dad sat in the living room with the stick across his lap counting down the minutes. I remember my brother preparing for the punishment by putting multiple layers of underwear on to see if the beating would not be as bad with more protection. We never did find it. But I think my dad got his satisfaction by seeing my brother and I so frantic.

Another memory that has come back was the memory of the night before I tried to tell someone about the abuse going on in my home. My dad had just gotten home and assigned my brother and I (who were in elementary school at the time) the chores of cleaning our rooms and the downstairs playroom. I started on my room and so did my brother. My dad got mad that we weren't working fast enough and beat my brother and screamed at me to go downstairs to go help clean down there. I remember the tears in my brother eyes because he had been hit. It was traumatic for me.

Another instance which I kind of have touched on before is the bead incident. My dad was at work and my brother and I were left to do whatever for most of the day. My mom was around but didn't pay much attention to us. I had a bead kit to make necklaces and stuff that I had got as a birthday present earlier that year. Because both my brother and I were in elementary school, we didn't handle the beads well and got them all over the dining room floor. My mom came down and saw all the beads and flipped out. Sometime before this, my brother had gone up to his room. I don't remember why. But my mother took "the stick" which at this time was 2 normal paint sticks taped together and proceeded to hit him. She ended up breaking "the stick" into two pieces and then proceeded to hit him with the larger piece of it. It lasted for a while. I sat against the back of a cupboard in the kitchen listening to him scream. Then my mom came down and hit my knees a couple times because of the way I was sitting, put the stick down and walked outside to smoke. I sat in the kitchen for a while in shock then cleaned up the beads.

I don't remember how or why the abuse got so bad. And I don't know why it suddenly stopped being physical and then went to emotional abuse to me.

I don't know if remembering these things is considered healing or not.

For a while, once my mom quit her job. The emotional abuse stopped. But it has again started and become worse than before. I can't have a conversation with my parents without them insulting me. My parents have begun asking me what in the world was wrong with me along with the insults.

On the opposite side of this: more effects are getting to me.

I've become suicidal again and have actually begun hurting myself by poking holes into my arm and scratching myself whenever I can't handle it. I consistently hide my sadness from the world and still don't know who I am. I don't know how to control my feelings either. I have started having frequent panic attacks that are beginning to control me because of the memories locked inside my head. Every time I hear any kind of snapping sound I sit up very straight and hope that it was nothing. And I don't know how to help myself. I know I need to be seeking a therapist but because of my circumstances I can't.

Thanks for this site Darlene. It helps a lot to just talk about what has gone on.

Note from Darlene: I regret that I can no longer continue the practice of commenting on visitor submissions to the degree I have in the past, as I am currently writing a book on healing from child abuse. I ask that you please read my post of June 24, 2009 titled Announcement Regarding my Comments for a complete explanation. I welcome you to follow my progress on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I do hope to hear from you there.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 6

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

I've written here many times before to help cope with the abuse I've suffered and the effects it's had on me. Well this time, I want to take a more positive route. I've began taking my power back from my family.

The last time I trusted a teacher and a school counselor was 4th grade. I told her about the abuse and nothing was done. I thought that I would never be able to trust a teacher or a school counselor ever again.

I was seriously wrong.

It all started at the state marching band trip. Because the marching band was going to be gone for 2 nights and 3 days, I used to opportunity to escape my parents attacks so I texted my mom a couple times just to give her basic information. I completely avoided my dad. While on the way back, my dad left a voice mail on my phone telling me how much of a piece of sh** I was. I got upset about it. A band parent on the bus came and talked with me about it and helped me fight through the tears and cope. It was nice of him. About a week later, it got back to the band director. He called me into his office and we had a conversation about it. He tried to push to find out what happened. Because of my trusting issues, I naturally shut him out and only mumbled that it was normal. He realized that and quickly gave up. This started a bunch of thoughts for me. It was at this point that for the first time, I realized he really cared. So 2 days later, I texted him telling him that I would trust him and explain what had happened but only if he kept it confidential. He told me he would if it didn't involve things that he had to by law report, like physical abuse and such. The next day he took the opportunity to talk to me. I opened up to him and told him about the bus incident and about the verbal attacks I receive. He was amazed. He told me that he wanted to help but would not tell my parents. He told me he would prefer having a school counselor there but I told him that trusting teachers was really hard and that school counselors were much worse. He understood.

Throughout the next couple weeks, I talked with him and continued to give him more and more information on what was going on in my home. I also told him about my depression.

At this time, many friends were also being very supportive of me. Along with him pushing me to talk to a school counselor, another friend was doing the same thing. So I agreed but only if they both would come with me to talk to her. They both agreed. So it was scheduled.

I talked with the school counselor about the verbal attacks at home first. She told me that it was indeed emotional abuse. I already knew this but it was good to know that someone else had figured out the same thing. She told me it sucked but couldn't report it because CPS was still focused on kids being neglected, sexually or physically abused. I said that was ok. I told her about my depression and we talked about options to be me into counseling without my parents knowing which was possible because I am above the legal age to do that. So we talked about various options. I then got courage and asked about reporting things like threats and abuse in the past. She told me she wasn't sure but would ask.

I continued talking with the band director afterward and it kept bugging me that because of the questions I asked, he had a hint but didn't know specifics. So this past Friday, I sent him an e-mail containing most of my stories posted on here. I knew that he would have to report it but also knew that more likely than not, it would just be documented. He read it Monday morning and forwarded it on to the school counselor. I started the reporting process that same day. The reporting was started. It was hard but I knew that it had to happen.

Overall, I'm so amazed that in a span of about a month, I went from only trusting 2 adults, to trusting a teacher and a school counselor as well. This is a major success. And now my physical abuse in the past will be reported. I just wanted to share the success.

All I needed was just to have people there to support me and tell me they care every day and to continue to help reverse the messages my parents have given me.

I'm taking my power back. It's a long and hard process but I'm doing it. With adults and many friends at my side, I will recover. I will heal. It may take years but I am ready for the long and hard battle ahead. My abuse will no longer control me.

Thank you Darlene for this site. It has helped so much.

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Note from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.

Child Abuse Story From Kimberly Part 7

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

First off I want to say thank you for this site Darlene. It's so nice to have a place to openly talk about my story. Now I'll give an update.

Human Services decided to just keep my report on file in case something happens again.

And I did indeed start counseling. The first counselor didn't work out. I'm going to try a new counselor soon. It's complicated but I'm very happy that I'm finally getting the help I need. This is all very good news. I also finally decided to let the school counselor and teacher that I trust know about what I've been hiding from them- basically what I posted in parts 4 and 5. So I gave them my submissions printed out.

But yet, the effects of the abuse are causing more and more havoc in my life. I started cutting about a month and a half ago just to cope with my feelings that I had now started dealing with. It's been getting worse ever since I started. I am going to try to work through this with the new counselor. The first counselor didn't handle it well. That's the main reason I am switching.

Also I have been having a lot of trouble dealing with the memories. They have started coming back really strong. I use cutting to deal with it. It's been harder to fight it off. Along with the memories comes emotions that I still have trouble dealing with. I've just discovered how much anger I have inside of me at my parents and others. I tend to suppress it along with most of my other emotions. I don't want to do what my parents have done to me on to others. I hide all my emotions behind a mask that I wear. Tears sit inside but I can't share them. Anger boils inside but I can't express it properly. Even in an environment that I've been assured it's ok.

I'm still dealing with deep depression and suicidal thoughts and am hoping that counseling will help me work through it. It'll take a lot of work but I'm committed

Another thing I've realized that affects me is the abandonment issues I have. I am always on the edge with people and can never completely trust them because of the abandonment issues I have. My parents are never there nor have they ever been and the adults in my life up to this point have left also. So I always am on defense just in case I have to go back to depending on no one again. I've been working though with the teacher I trust to get away from it.

Lucky for me, I have two solid adults in my life who care and understand and who are there when I need them.

So overall, life is being life. I'm struggling but am handling it better because I now have multiple adults to look to for help.

I do hope that through counseling I can find some defense mechanisms against my parents verbal attacks that still happen, as well as help with all the effects I'm dealing with.

My message to everyone who's still dealing with abuse is GET OUT! If you can't, surround yourself with friends and adults who do care! There are good people out there despite what's happened to you. Find them! I have and it's made all the difference.

Again, thanks Darlene for this site. It helps a lot.

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Note from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.