Child Abuse Story From
Stacey

Stacey is from St. Peters, Missouri, USA

The following child abuse story from Stacey depicts emotional abuse.

The child abuse effects on Stacey: severe depression, loss of faith, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts

When I was four, my father was awarded joint custody with my mother. I had to go see him every Thursday and every other weekend. I had no idea why he wanted to see me so badly, because I never wanted to see him. I would cry when he would come pick me up. My mother had to come with me the first few times.

As I got older, I wanted to be with my cousins so I didn't have to be with him by myself. He would say no, unless I swore I loved him under God. I hated God by then, so I complied. That never got me anywhere.

I had severe crying spells at his house. He would chase me up and down the stairs, until I got ahead enough to shut my door. If I tried to lock the door, he would threaten to take the door off; I wanted the door on in case he tried to physically hurt me. I would duck under my covers and suppress my tears until he thought I was ok and left. I would then let it all out again.

He then slept with a fourteen-year-old when I was thirteen. I was in the house at the time. He was arrested the week before I started eighth grade. He finally got out after five years.

When I was seventeen, I started having nightmares that he tried to kill me. I hoped that it would come true. He has left me severely depressed and I want to kill myself everyday. AND WHAT GETS ME IS THE FACT THAT HE DOESN'T WANT TO APOLOGIZE TO ME.

The following child abuse story from Stacey was posted as the 2nd installment to this page on June 6, 2007, and was originally posted to my Stories page on June 1, 2007 as Stories #131.

I had been emotionally abused as a child for nine years by my father. The only creature who knew was my Jossee, a cat who died when I was ten.

A week ago, I finally got to tell someone. I was in a psych ward for suicide and I was asked about my childhood. I confessed I was abused to them, but didn't really tell them how.

For the next few days I opened up parts of me that I kept closed from prying eyes and ears. It felt good to have someone I didn't know what happened to me. I am not completely healed, but I feel better about my abuse after that nine-day stay at the hospital.