This child abuse story from Karen2 page was
created May 14, 2007 and was originally posted on May 5, 2007 as story #114.
Karen2 is from Hickory, North Carolina, USA
The following child abuse story from Karen2
depicts sexual abuse at the hands of her stepfather, neglect and emotional
abuse at the hands of her mother.
The child abuse effects on Karen2: a deep
sense of anger, hostility and cynicism
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I will start by saying that I hate most all people and think that they are fake and the word love is nothing more than just another word to get past what they want or to just serve their own means or justify their own conscience.
I'm currently 47 years old and have lived with all of this since the age of 9. My daddy died when I was 5 years old. My mother remarried when I was 7 years old.
I knew from the first moment I met this man that I was afraid of him, but at that time children were not allowed to speak their mind. I was taught only to obey. Well, then when we (brother and another sister) met his family for the first time, his mother told him not to discipline us. My own mother's remark was he had full authority as any father would and we were to call him Daddy from that day forward. I knew even at that age that it was wrong.
Now forward to age 9. My mother had to leave town to take care of her sister in Georgia, who had just given birth to twins. I was sick and out of school.
One day, he (Bobby) came home from work around 10:00. He told me to go and take a nap in their bed due to being sick. I knew something was wrong, but wasn't sure what. Well, being the obedient child that I was, I went. He came in just a few minutes later and ordered me to remove all my clothes. Even though I knew it was wrong, I was to afraid not to. Then he proceeded to tell me if I told anyone then he would kill my mother and he would be raising me all by himself, which I completely believed. He then pulled out some cartoon sex books out of the top of their closet and told me to look at the pages
He told me to kiss it, which I will cringe to this day when I hear that term. Afterward, I bled so bad that I thought I was truly dying.
When my mother returned, she found my underwear in the dirty clothes. All she had to say was "Well, I guess you started your period." I did not even know what that was. I was folding up washrags to try and stop the bleeding, and she acts as if it was nothing.
All this continued on for years, with him telling my siblings to go and play while I cleaned their bedroom. Finally, at age 12, I go off and tell my mother what he was doing. Well, she kicks him out for maybe 2 months, and then tells me that she needs his paycheck to survive and that she would never leave me alone with him ever again--like I had a choice in the matter.
Well, he returns for me to have to face day after day and then go to church and him cry and ask for forgiveness for everything but for what he did. It was all a total lie and still is to this day.
My mother says the past is the past and everyone should just forget, forgive, and go on. I really want to just scream at her, but can't because of her health. But I'm here to tell you all that as much as I mostly hate her, I cannot ever take all this out on innocent children or the public because I will not let them win! I am now a very strong professional training manager with a very limited education (11th grade) in retail.
Know god is in you and that you deserve to have a life without taking it out on the public or some innocent child. I just wish that I could see the SOB Bobby now and tell him, "I'm not a kid now", then beat him within an inch of his life and say "NO MORE." I feel your pain because I am your pain and can live a normal productive life now, not without a lot of baggage, but live and be respected without killing someone.
NOTE: Information pages on this site were based on material from the
Canadian Red Cross RespectED Training Program. Written permission was obtained to use their copyrighted material on this site.
Child abuse story from Karen2 was re-formatted June 3, 2015
From Victim to Victory
How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life