Child Abuse Story From Carolyn

by Carolyn
(Fort Knox, USA)

Never Knowing What To Do... 
When I was 6 months old I was taken from a home where I and an older sister of mine was neglected, and placed into foster homes until we were adopted by the same family. I was 2 at the time, and in the beginning everything was fine. My mother and father were very loving and very understanding. They really showed us love, and compassion. After my little sister was born everything changed.

My sister developed some emotional problems and was sent away, and I began to be the brunt of a lot of emotional, and at times, not often but at least a couple times that I know of, physical hostility. When my older sister got sent away, I was told that it should have been me all along because my sister was only taking the blame for me, that I was the bad child.

During the holidays I was grounded to my room, usually from around Thanksgiving until my birthday in January. I was kept from seeing my family during each holiday, not allowed to come out of my room. My mother and father would turn the locks on the doors around so they could lock me in my room. That happened from the time I was 8 until I was 17.

When I was 10 my mother got so mad she told me to leave the house, which I did. I just went for a walk. I didn't run away, but Mom called Dad home from work telling him I did run away. He came and got me, told me to get home. Once there, my mom tied me in sheets and hit me with a hard bound math book. The woman hit me square in the face and blackened my eye, and then left me there. That was the first time anything like that had happened, so when Dad told me to tell the people at school that I jumped off my bed and hit the dresser, that was what I did. I went years without being hit again.

Throughout the next 3 years, my father would get pissed and walk me into a corner and threaten to hit me, but he never did...he slapped me in the face a couple of times, but I don't rightly know...some people consider that discipline. I sure did.

Then my father was diagnosed with cancer when I was 13. I at the time was receiving therapy because my parents thought I was a major problem child. They had the therapist at the time convinced of that also. I was not told about Dad's cancer for about a month, until one day while at school a friend of the family let it slip. I went home and confronted Dad about it because no one had told me. I wasn't mean about it or anything, but two days later, my mom wanted me outta the house. She said that I had hit my father in the back where his tumor was. She dragged me down a flight and a half of stairs by my hair. After that I was a changed girl.

I spent 2 years in a group home and came back. They sent me to my room every day after school. If I went anywhere it was only to church and youth group. At first they wouldn't let me go to the youth group, but after my best friend died, they didn't want to deal with me so they allowed me to go. I was pretty much not allowed any after school activities. When mom got mad, she would come up and tell me she wished I had never been born, that I was worthless. She would read my diary and then go tell my father what "lies" I was writing about them and they would come up mad and yelling. So I frankly began not talking to them. If anyone would give me a compliment I would politely let them know they were wrong, that I couldn't have done what they thought was so great. I also noticed then and now that I am constantly saying "I am sorry" for things. People actually get mad about me saying sorry.

I am 23 years old. I should know when things aren't my fault, but I honestly don't. I know that I was not the best child in the world, but even today at 23 my parents are still doing the normal stuff, except instead of my journal it's my email, and instead of telling me how horrible I am they are telling my friends. I guess for them I am the black sheep. But me...I wish they would just say I am no longer in the family instead of making me feel so bad about myself, ya know?

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