Effects of Targetted Child Abuse

by Emily
(California, USA)

Your article on parents targeting a child hit the nail on the proverbial head for me. I became my Mother to my father. She died in a car crash in which he was driving madly in the rain and her last words were "Slow down, Ray". He told me all the details of the accident - I was nine. He moved us to Geneva Switzerland to honor her last wish that they retire there. I was targeted from the day we moved there. I reminded my father of my mother. You would think that would be a good thing. But it wasn't. I was verbally and physically abused. It lasted til he died when I was 33. He broke my ear drum by slapping me across the head when I was 26 and in nursing school. I WAS promiscuous after he told me I "had a big pussy" when I was 17.

ON and ON it goes. I am always in a whirlwind about his words and his actions. People I dated told me it was like dating a tornado. I have no boundaries from danger. I feel like I invited dangerous responses from people. I made horrific mistakes when I became a nurse. When my father broke my eardrum I went to a doctor I worked with and she asked me "who did this to you?" and I replied: "an ancient enemy".

ON and on it goes. I go to Alanon to help with the effects of the disease of alcoholism. It helps.

I miss Geneva terribly. I left there not because I wanted to but because I was rejected for my promiscuous behavior. I was hanging out with a friend who was even more promiscuous than me. But she had a mother who eventually protected her from herself. I ended up in a hospital for two whole years, suicidal from my sexual acting out when I was 18.

I love that article on targeting a child. I never became a parent because my father would have killed my child I believe. Or my brother who molested me would have molested my children.

On and on it goes.

Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life


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