Child Abuse Story From Maria1

by Maria
(USA)

Adopted and abused: 
I am adopted and I was badly abused as a child and as a teenager by my adopted mother. When I was born, my biological mother gave me up for adoption to her foster mother, because she had my older sister Ashley who is one year older then me. My mother was put into foster care as an adult because she was 21 with a newborn baby, just getting out of jail with nowhere to go. My adopted mother was a foster parent for the system to take care of women in situations such as my biological mother's. In the time period that my biological mother lived with my adopted mother she and her became very close, they grew to care for each other very much and grew a strong bond. My biological mother trusted her. My adopted mother was also married. She had a husband who was 20 years old than her, which at the time she was approximately 42 and he was 62, and he was dying of emphazema.

When my mother turned 22 she became pregnant with me from a one night stand. I never ever got to meet my real father. He left my mother and went back to his wife in another state. When my mother told him that she was expecting, he said he didn't want another child. He already had a daughter who he was really close with. So the day I was born, my biological mother gave me up to her foster parents to take custody of me and raise me as their own. Here is where my life begins.

My biological mother and biological sister moved out of my adopted mother's home when I was approximately 1 year old because my mother had met a navy man and gotten married and moved to another state to live their lives as a family. I was left with my adopted parents to be their child and to take care of me. I can't remember big parts of my childhood, but from the things I can remember, it was not a good childhood. My adopted father was very sick and I was very close to him. He truly loved me. For his age, I was his only child and he loved me and my sister very very much. He was my daddy, and a damn good one. He unfortunately passed away the day before my 4th birthday. It hurt me very much. I spent my birthday that year between his viewing and funeral and my family having 2 parties for me to kinda make up for the trauma. After that it was just me and my mom.

I knew it must've been hard losing my dad, because after that, my mom had to raise me by herself and things just got terrible. My mother started abusing me very badly from age 4 on, emotionally and physically. I remember many times when my mom would get mad at me and it's like because I was the only child, (which granted she had 2 of her own sons, but they were already grown and moved out) it was just me and I had no one to play with. My mom was super protective and I grew up in not such a good place. I grew up in Baltimore City and rape and murder are a very popular thing there, so my mother never let me go outside to play or hang out with friends at their houses to play, because my mother feared that my friends' dads would molest me.

I was always kept inside to play by myself and I was always sad. My mother would constantly be on the phone paying bills and I would always try to get my mother to play with me and she would tell me to get away and she would yell at me. It got beyond yelling. When she would get aggravated with me or I would get on her nerves she would drag me from one end of the house to another by my hair then throw me into my room and slam the door and leave me crying. She would take my dolls and break their arms off and throw them at me, and other times when she was mad at me and told me I was bad she would put me in a choke hold and constantly slap me hard on the ears, my face and my head. I remember times when my mother would force me to eat things. I remember her making a bologna sandwich for me and I didn't like it and didn't want it. She said fine, you don't want to eat it then you're not getting anything for the rest of the night. I went to take a bath and she brought the sandwich into the bathroom and while I was in the tub, she forcefully shoved it down my throat until I puked.

Also when I was little, from the time I was 5 on, my mother didn't ever have a real job. She worked independently and sold toys at child events. My mother used me to do all her work, carry tubs full of product for 4 miles, heavy heavy containers, and if I complained she hit me and I got a whoopin' when we got home. The abuse only got worse as I got older.

My mother stopped celebrating Christmas one year. She said I was bad and there would be no Christmas. I was 9 years old and my mother sold our home in Maryland and we moved to Virginia where my mom pursued more independently selling shoes on the side of the road. I was her helper. She kept me out of school and we lived in a hotel. My mother said I wasn't getting a Christmas and since then we have never celebrated Christmas.

We finally got a little bit more settled and we moved back to Maryland, into a one bedroom apartment. I started going to high school and I started to make friends. By then I had become fond of boys and I started having boyfriends. My mother began to become emotionally abusive. She would call me a whore and a slut and smack me and verbally bash the boys and any friends that I had, male or female. I was not allowed to hang out with anyone. I was not to go over to their houses.

My mother would constantly get mad at me and hit me all the time and yell at me. She became addicted to narcotics, getting them prescribed from her doctor for miscellaneous illnesses she claimed to have, getting addicted to all types of various drugs including Xanax, Oxy, and Percocet. She would be stoned half the time and forget where she put things and then accuse me of stealing them. One of the main things I was accused of stealing was her pills. She would hit me with shoes, plastic hangers, her hands, and the telephone receiver. She would break my things, grab my hair, and throw me.

As I got older I started to run away. I met a boy and thought I was in love. He took me away, but he turned out to be a very bad person. He did a lot of damage in hurting my life.

One night I can remember clear as day. I was 15 years old and my mom was on the phone. She started arguing with me. She took the receiver off the phone and threw it in my face and busted my cheek bone, gave me a black eye, and a busted lip. Another time, she poured oxy clean bleaching product on me and I called the police. They never did anything. They always stuck up for my mom. Then one night she trapped me in the kitchen and I couldn't get through the doorway. She was stoned. She upper-cutted me and gave me 2nd degree jaw trauma. I ran out the front door and called 911 from a payphone at this bar next to my house. The paramedics showed up and took me to the hospital. And they still once again let me go home and didn't do anything to her.

The abuse got so bad that I got fed up, so when she would hit me, I would hit her back. So my mother started calling the police on me and started pressing criminal charges on me for assault and battery and I ended up in juvenile, because she did that to me. It was self defense and they let her do that to me. I finally ran away from the system til I was 18 and got away.

Now today, my mother has been committed 3 times to a mental institution for evaluation and finally the last time the psychiatrist diagnosed her paranoid schizophrenic. She was abused as a child also and I found out from my adopted brothers, her sons that when they were little, she locked them in an outside cellar for days and she abused them badly. To this day my family recalls the days my mom beat me. I don't know what the statute of limitations are, but I want her to be punished for what she did to me and my brothers all our life, because to this day, my mother still harasses me. I am now 19, married with a 3-month-old son.

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