Child Abuse Story From Vi
by Vi
(Location Undisclosed)
Prince Charming Never Came:
While sitting in my home, a small, dark closet that I shared with numerous clothes and shoes, I would often dream of the day that Prince Charming would come and rescue me. He never came. Did he forget that his princess was being held by a mean person? Maybe he didn't care.
The abuse started after my parents separated when I was ten, and now, 41 years later, the abuse still goes on in my head. The daily beatings became manageable at some point. I even learned how to accept the fact that that I may have to share the back porch with the dog on a cold November, or if I was lucky, sleep in the closet or on the kitchen floor. I didn't like sleeping on the kitchen floor because I was afraid of mice.
I could never understand why I was the only one who suffered. My siblings did not share the same fate as I, maybe because they were lighter and I was the darker one.
Prince Charming never came for me.
This is too painful to finish...
Note from Darlene: The volume of contributor submissions has now made it impossible for me to comment personally (especially in great detail) on each and every contribution. If I haven't left you a comment or one that is in-depth, please do not take my lack of a personal response as a slight, or as a statement that your story is somehow unworthy of my time. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could be further from the truth. If there was a way for me to respond to all of you at length, I would.
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Child Abuse Story From Vi Part 2
by Vi
(Maryland, USA)
Prince Charming Never Came - con't:
Now grown up, the memories of eating leaves off a bush that grew in the back yard to keep from being hungry, talking to myself just to hear a voice while trying to keep warm on a cold November night on the back porch have never gone away and surface almost every day. I feel so much like a failure in life, failing at several suicide attempts. A cry for help in some cases, again there was nobody there to listen.
I often wonder why no one cared enough to help me. Didn't the teacher notice that my clothes were always wrinkled (I washed them by hand on the back porch in a bucket) or that I never ate lunch. My neighbor had to see me sleeping on the back porch during a cold winter nights covered by my coat. Didn't my life mean anything to anyone?
I have and continue to feel so lonely all my life. Never had children because I was always afraid that I would become an abuser. Growing up I always wanted to have a family that I could love and would love me, however that was just a dream like many others. The man I married and divorced left after I became ill saying that he "didn't want the obligation of taking care of me". I didn't say that while working two full time jobs to send him to law school.
I suffered a stroke two years ago and have recovered 90%, however I wish I had died instead. My only joy in life has been working with homeless families in shelters for the past 20 years. I have been an advocate for children and will continue to do so until I take my last breath.
I have many health issues but I am sure that my death will be due to a broken heart.
Thank you for reading.
Bless all of you.
See Part 1 of Vi's story on this site.
Note from Darlene: The volume of contributor submissions has now made it impossible for me to comment personally (especially in great detail) on each and every contribution. If I haven't left you a comment or one that is in-depth, please do not take my lack of a personal response as a slight, or as a statement that your story is somehow unworthy of my time. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could be further from the truth. If there was a way for me to respond to all of you at length, I would.
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 Vi Part 3
by Vi
(Maryland, USA)
I am sorry-L:
Growing up I was abused physically, emotionally until the age of 15 when I decided that enough was enough and move on to a little better space. However the unhappy memories or the lack of continues to affect my life as I turn 53. I have my issues but I am writing this to say that I am sorry to a little 4 year old boy in Baltimore that I sexually abused when I was about 7.
I don't remember his name however he was a playmate who I used to fondle while playing. I don't think it happened to many times but 1 time is too many and I pray that I haven't destroyed his life as a result of it. So I am here to say that I am totally sorry to the little boy that lived in Baltimore, Md in the 1960's. I think your name is "James"
I didn't mean to hurt you and I suspect that I too was abused by someone in my life sexually to make me do such a terrible thing to you, however this is no excuse for my behavior and you will never know how bad I feel about it. As a 7 year old, I didn't understand why and what I was doing. I can never say "I am sorry" enough and I hope that you have been able to live a good life.
Because of the abuses I experience and the abuse I did to you, I never had children because I didn't want to abuse anyone else.
My life has been full of suicide attempts, failed relationships, marriage and loneliness. I am not writing this to make myself feel better but I hope if you are reading this that it helps you feel better and to realize that what I did "was not your fault".
James, I am sorry from L (the little girl/now adult) who was your friend.
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