This child abuse story from Sarah was originally posted to my child abuse stories page on April 7, 2006.
Sarah is from the USA
The following child abuse story from Sarah depicts physical abuse and sexual assault.
The child abuse effects on Sarah: an eating disorder.
Wow, I'm devastated to hear such cruel, sorrowful stories . . . Nonetheless, we are not alone. We are all strong, beautiful, meaningful human beings! We DO have a purpose here.
I'm going to make this short as possible.
My father was an abusive alcoholic who would come home from work and immediately begin beatings. We knew once dusk was falling, father would be home, and that we all should be showered/bathed and in our 'jammies', out of his way, upstairs in our rooms or "he'll get you".
Many times we were too happy to hear his truck or notice the nightfall and we'd get beat in the basement, where no one could hear our cries for help. He lined us up on the cement floor and took his big, steel-toed boot and spanked us on our bottoms. He stood us up and took a wet towel and snapped it numerous times on our bodies . . . mainly places where clothes would cover up the bruises and bleeds. He got very angry one night and broke my older brother's arm, and my older sister's middle finger.
Mother was too afraid to speak up. Watching her get hit was the worst! We'd run to help her, and he'd whack us with his bare hand. This went on from the time I was 4 to the time I was 13.
My father eventually settled down a bit with his anger and abuse, but left my older brother in his footsteps.
Only a few months after we moved to a different state, my older brother fell into my father's shoes, and he began to abuse my other brother and me. He would shoot me with BB guns, bow and arrows, and dart guns. I'd scream and cry, but no one could help me. It was called 'survival from sibling rivals'. If my sis or other brother would try to help me, they'd get it so much worse. We just let him run his course. He called this 'Secret Play Time', meaning we couldn't tell anyone about it. I tried to tell my mother, but somehow he'd find out that I told her (even when I told her not to tell him I told her) and he'd beat me harder the next day.
When I entered high school I was raped by a senior who I thought liked me. I feel this was mostly my fault to this day. For the simple fact that I knew where we were going, and that his parents weren't home. I could have said no. But I didn't expect him to do such a nasty, horrific act! Oh god I regret my actions! I wanted and strived for love and attention then. I didn't care how I got it, as long as I received some kind of attention. By my 10th-grade year in high school my soccer coach sexually violated me. Older BASTARD!
I'm working in therapy on these matters. I've had an eating disorder for 6 years now. I just got out of Inpatient (IP treatment). I was there for a few months. It's helped me a lot, but I realize that these vivid memories will never go away! They will haunt me till the day I die. As soon as I can accept the fact that it all happened . . . and it happened to me.
Much love and support to all!! :)
xoxo Sarah xoxo
