Child Abuse Story From Julie

by Julie
(Canada)

I grew up in a very dysfunctional family. My father and mother were divorced when I was a baby. I don't have any memories of them together, just of my father and his second wife. My father and stepmother physically, emotionally, sexually and verbally abused me. They also neglected me. It's hard to capture everything that happened, so I'll try to cover the biggest things I remember.

My father was always emotionally unavailable, and his biggest commitment was to my stepmother. He never spent time with me, or took any interest in me. However, he did take an interest in my older brother. Watching him share hobbies with my brother and spend time with him always made me feel lonely, and not good enough. He was physically abusive, but more so towards my brother than myself. The only time he ever seemed interested in me was when he was ogling my body sexually, putting me down, or doing everything he could to make sure I couldn't have a relationship with my biological mother.

His wife (my stepmom) has definite mental health issues. She was abusive on every level. She terrorized my brother and me on a daily basis. Every morning she would wake up and come downstairs to harass us. My father would be at work, and whenever I tried to tell him about it, he would deny it was happening. She would go through all of our personal belongings (sometimes take them away), control our clothes (and make us wear clothing that didn't fit to humiliate us), control our food (sometimes starve me), who we were friends with, everything. She treated us like slaves. We were constantly cleaning for her. My brother and I would refer to it as 'slave-duty'. She was extremely intimidating, and she never had any boundaries. I was constantly in a state of fear, trying to anticipate what she would do to me next.

My real mom lived away from us, and we only saw her a few times a year. My father had custody, and they fought back and forth with lawyers until I was a young teen. My father was constantly breaking the rules of the custody agreement, and I was unable to have a relationship with my mother until I moved out of the house when I was 18. Unfortunately, in my twenties I learned that my mother was dysfunctional as well, but it was less obvious than the abuse I had received from my father and stepmother.

As my brother and I got older, he started becoming more rebellious, which then caused an increase in the abuse from my parents. During that time I became close to my brother. He told me that we were being abused, something I didn't really know until that time. I assumed every family was like that. I became really close with him, but felt afraid, because the abuse kept escalating as he rebelled. Finally, my stepmother said to my father that my brother had to move out, or she would leave. So he kicked him out. So my brother moved in with my mom, which made me feel relieved, until I realized that my protector had left me alone in an abusive household. I stayed there, determined to hold out until I went to college, because I was afraid I would end up homeless or worse.

My brother ended up abusing alcohol and drugs, and lived on the streets in Toronto, which caused me to feel a lot of stress and worry. None of my parents knew how to deal with it. He ended up with more mental health issues because of it, and was no longer recognizable to me. The person I once knew was gone, and although I've made attempts, we have not had a relationship since.

While living alone with my parents in my teen years, I tried telling people so I could get some help, but I was scared, and most of my cries for help were ignored or quashed by adults. My best friend's parents said I could move in with them, but I was afraid of what might happen if I did. Soon after, they started divorce proceedings, so I did not want to go into that household. I became very depressed and isolated, and started losing friends, gossiped and bullied to deal with anger, and started abusing food.

I had a poor self image and body image, and became anorexic and bulimic in my early teens, and then once I was in high school, I switched to overeating. Soon I was bullied at school, the one place that was my saving grace, so I began eating more when I got home. I didn't know I had an eating disorder, as I had only heard of anorexia and bulimia.

I moved to Vancouver when I was 18, under the pretence that I was going to college. I was very depressed, eating more and more, and screwing up in school. I also slept around with random men for a while. I ended up gaining 180 pounds.

I am now 28, and have cut all ties with my family. I have gone to group therapy for 4 years for people with a binge eating disorder. I have also gone to rehab for three months. I also utilized a 12 step program for 5 years. I am now continuing with individual therapy, and I am healthier mentally and emotionally, but I still have a long way to go. I am still obese, and am working hard in therapy, but nothing has helped my weight to change, only other aspects of me. That aspect of my life is discouraging at times, but I can't give up.

I am back in school, and have a 4.0. I also have a supportive partner who is helping me to succeed. Sometimes I think about sending my family letters to tell them what they've done to me, or charging them in the legal system, but I wonder if it's really worth it. I am just trying to keep moving forward, and hopefully one day I will have my life together.

Darlene's comments to this "Child Abuse Story From Julie" can be found below.

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.