Hi,

I`m a 24yr old mother of three who for the past 19 years have been tortured by the visions of my 4th birthday, I came from a big family with abusive alcoholic parents who would leave us to fend for ourselves but hey it was my birthday I had a new dress,new shoes and I felt good for once….a friend of the family was saying all day how lovely the dress looked on me and I went out to play while my father went out for more drink and my mother finished the vodka she had hidden while he was away well…she passed out on the sofa but I was used to that and the `friend` asked me if I wanted to see his newpuppy, I loved animals so ofcourse I went along with him, he took me to a flat straight across from my home locked the door and raped me I can still remember the colour of the lightshade which I stared at I was crying and he told me I was a big girl and this is what happens to `good girls`afterwards he fixed himself and my hair had been up in pigtails so he pulled them tight and fixed my hair he also put my ripped pants into my cardigan and give me 20pence and told me to get sweets with it my neightbour saw me coming out of the flat and brought me to my mother`s house of course she sobered up pretty quickly and she started screaming……………I thought she was cross because I had money…… I remember telling her that I didn`t steal it but she sent me up to wash my face the neightbour followed me up to the bathroom and helped fix my hair and wash my face she was crying and I could not understand why I was brought to the police station and examined but my parent`s dropped the charges against him and he was left to get on with his life I on the other hand had horrifying nightmares and was told that nothing happened even when I asked my parents did he rape me they told me i was an attention seeker.. still as the nightmares continued….. I met my husband to be at 15 and fell pregnant shortly after and again the nightmare`s continued so I went to the solicitor`s, i just wanted some closure but the solicitor dug up more than I had expected you see my older brother also raped me infront of my younger brother this I have only known about for a couple of months and to be honest with you it`s tearing me apart I don`t want to be the victim they tell you that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel but I can`t see any light.
by Sharon on 11 Jun 2004

My Story – - 2003-06-01 15:37:11

This account was written over 3 years ago in 2003. I’m leaving it unedited here as a testimony of what happened and how I felt at the time.

“I heard someone screaming and it was me…”
(The Accused)

He wasn’t a stranger, and he didn’t jump out of a bush at night. I felt safe because I knew him. I wish I knew back then what I know now. I wish someone had told me that women are more likely to be raped by someone they know than by a stranger. But no one told me. I believed that rapists were dark figures following you on the street late at night, or breaking into your apartment from a window left opened. I was wrong.

I met him two weeks before through a mutual friend. Some memories are incredibly vivid in my mind while others have faded away. I remember meeting him for dinner, having a pleasant evening, and then ending up at his house. I had no idea of what was going to happen and how it would change me.

He tried to kiss me, and I turned my face away from him. He pushed down on the floor, and he did it so quickly that I barely had time to realize what was going on. What happened after has left me shocked and paralyzed for years. I was too young and too inexperienced to deal with it. He hit me and I cried, struggling to free myself; I didn’t want to believe what was happening and I kept thinking, “This can’t be true.” I begged him “please don’t,” and screamed as laud as I could when all of a sudden he was holding a knife to my face, hitting me again and telling me to shut up.

I was shocked, never been hit that badly before, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I stopped screaming because I was frightened by the anger in his voice, but I never stopped crying. The next thing I remember is an awful pain. I wanted to throw up and I thought I couldn’t take the pain for another minute. At some point, I realized that there was nothing that I could do; I simply closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. Minutes turned into hours. Hours filled with threats, humiliation, and tears. Throughout the whole time he reminded of how he could, and probably would, cut my throat. Still to this day there are pieces of what happened and of what he did that I have never dared reveal to anyone. I’m afraid I never will.

When I thought it was over, I opened my eyes again and tried to get up, but he stopped me and told me to stay where I was. It was not over for him. He kept on drinking while he ordered me not to move. When he raped me again, I blacked out. I still have flashbacks of those moments and when it happens I can only go in to my bedroom, sit down and whisper, “please stop, please make it go away now.” There are still missing pieces here and there. When I try to remember I can see myself in his bathroom washing the blood away, and I can clearly hear his voice like an echo in my head, “I called you a cab, now put yourself together.”

I could feel his footsteps right behind me as I was walking to the door. Just before I could reach the door, he grabbed me and said, “let’s not make a big deal out of this, I’m sorry things got a little out of control. If anyone asks you, you fell, understood?” I stuttered, “yes, I fell.” From that moment on I was deft and numb to everything.

The cab driver tried to talking to me, asking me where I wanted to go. I couldn’t give him an answer or a direction. My mind was blank, except for the floating images of what had just taken place. My face was bruised all over, my lower lip split and bloodied, my right eye blackened. Eventually, the car started moving, and I heard my voice saying, “I’m sorry for your seats, I’ll pay to have them cleaned”. That’s what was on my mind, I was dirtying the seats with my blood and I kept whispering, “I’m sorry.” The driver must have noticed the bruises on my face and my clothes being ripped off because he took me to the emergency room and advised me on seeing a doctor. Everything was out of focus, the lights, the doors, the waiting and then the visiting room.

I didn’t even pay for the ride. He didn’t ask me, and I wasn’t thinking.

A Few Simple Truths About ADHD and Stimulant Drugs
Responses to Common Professional Statements Made to Parents About Their Children

Doctors, mental health professionals, and educators often say things about “Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder” (ADHD) that are unproven. These same professionals often say things about drugs that are supposed to treat “ADHD” that are not true. This brochure reveals and responds to six common lies or misleading statements you might be told.

1. “ADHD” is a brain-based biological disorder, caused by a chemical imbalance in your child’s brain. The simple fact is that there is absolutely no reliable test that accurately distinguishes between children that are supposed to have “ADHD” and those that are not. The simplest way to counter this statement is to ask for a medical test to prove that your child has “ADHD.” Many physicians will respond to your request by saying that the test is too expensive. You must persevere and ask that your insurance company pay for those tests. You can also ask any professional to show you the article or articles in the scientific literature that proves the existence of a confirmatory physical or chemical abnormality that validates the existence of ADHD as a medical disease. The plain truth is that no such article exists. If someone gives you an article, please share and discuss it with someone who can critically analyze it.

2. The symptoms are clearly printed in a book called the DSM-IV which stands for the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association, Fourth Edition. Yes, the “symptoms” are printed there, but as described in point 1, these alleged “symptoms” in no way prove that ADHD is a disease. Furthermore, these “symptoms” are actually nothing more than someone’s observations of your child’s behavior, and the truth is they are not even reliable as behavioral observations. To be reliable, people must agree that your child has “ADHD.” An article in the prestigious Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, printed in September 2000, says that the diagnosis is very unreliable. Many children who are supposed to be “ADHD” are not identified, and many children who are identified as not having ADHD are identified as having it. This means that research done to support the identification and treatment of ADHD that uses the DSM-IV definition totally lacks support. It also means that no medical person correctly diagnoses ADHD. ADD and ADHD are politically manufactured concepts, created by committees of the American Psychiatric Association. ADD was created in 1980, ADHD in 1987. The plain truth is that they are not real diseases in any legitimate scientific meaning of the term disease. To declare otherwise is not medicine; it is fraud.

3. Medication (such as Ritalin) corrects the chemical imbalance. Remember first there is no demonstrated chemical imbalance (see point 1). The brain does have chemicals that help cells “talk” to each other that are called neurotransmitters. However, when a professional says that one of these chemicals, usually a variety of something called Dopamine, needs some kind of correction, and that they have just the right kind of medicine to do this, you are being misled. This idea assumes that nerves only “talk” to nerves that use the same chemicals. That is absolutely positively false. It is a lie at worst, a gross oversimplification at best. It is unethical for a medical professional to state or imply otherwise.

4. The medication (e.g., Ritalin) is a mild stimulant with few or no side effects. “Side effect” is a euphemism; all drugs (alleged medications) have a variety of effects. It is vitally important that you personally research the effects of any drug you might consider for your child. Go to the Physicians Desk Reference (PDR), ask your neighborhood pharmacist to print you a list of side effects, and/or get the references listed at the end of this brochure. You need to find out about all possible effects — those considered common (such as nervousness, insomnia, and loss of appetite, and those considered rare (such as toxic psychosis and death). The lie that Ritalin is a mild stimulant is even more difficult to maintain since a recently concluded study at the Brookhaven National Laboratory (BNL), and published in the Journal of the American Medical Association, not only confirmed the similarities of cocaine and Ritalin, but found that Ritalin is more potent than cocaine in its effect on the dopamine system in the brain. Referring to Ritalin as “kiddy cocaine” is not a joke.

It is important to know that the use of stimulant medication can mask the symptoms of potentially fatal disorders that could be causing your child’s problems with inattention or activity. It is also important to know that if your child really is having problems with attention and concentration, this could be caused by problems within the class environment (no work breaks, poor environmental temperature regulation, poor acoustics, poor lighting, poor teaching, etc.) or within other areas of your child’s life (nutrition, TV and video overstimulation, family stress and conflict, etc.).

5. If your child had diabetes, you would give him insulin, wouldn’t you? This is one of the most common, and heinous statements that doctors and other professionals make to parents. It is a heavy guilt trip telling parents they are negligent and irresponsible if they don’t go along with the pressure to drug their children. Remember clearly, as described in point 1 above, that ADHD is in no way a real disease; to imply otherwise is a lie. The truth is that protecting your children from toxic drugs is being completely responsible. It is those who advocate these drugs for children who are abdicating responsibility and avoiding the challenge of truly meeting the needs of our children.

6. You are going against medical advice. Physicians work for you. There is something called informed consent. If they have given you false or inaccurate information, or attempted to deceive you in any way, then the advice that they have given is faulty and you can justifiably take matters (concerning “ADHD”) into your own hands. It is your responsibility to protect the short and long-term health, well-being and development of your child.

Resources

Breeding, J. The Wildest Colts Make The Best Horses. Bright Books, 1996.

Breggin, P. Talking Back To Ritalin. Common Courage Press, 1998.

Informative Websites

www.adhdfraud.org – Dr. Fred Baughman’s excellent website, containing the best of his essays revealing that ADHD is not a real disease.

www.wildestcolts.com – John Breeding, PhD, posts a wealth of information on psychiatry, parenting and his work as director of Texans For Safe Education.

www.attention-deficit-disorder.org. Profiles the work that some of us are doing to provide the truth about the fraudulent and harmful labeling and psychiatric drugging of our children.

From the age of 5, I was sexualy abused by my father. I had told my mum several times and she would ask him about it and he would deny it like always. Mum and dad ended up seperating my dad was a very controling, manipulative man so I remaned living at his house. The abuse was still an occurance but because my mum was abused as a child, she had taught me that it was wrong if someone touches you in your private spots and as I got older I realised that he didnt have the power, I DID. So one nght I went into his room while he was asleep and I got into bed with him. I was in denial that he would do anything to me but I wanted to catch him out. He started touching me, it was discusting. I got up and went in my own room the next.
I thaught this is it, am I going to let him do this to me again? NO, so I rang him he was at work and I said “you touched me last night” he was speachless. I said “I am leaving and there is nothing you can do about it” I thaught he would yell at me, he didnt. He started crying he said “no dont leave im sorry if I have hurt you” that was it for me. I couldnt take this anymore, I told my mum she was distrort she said sorry about 10 times. I dont blame her. Then my mum and I told the family they didnt belive us. That gave my mum doubt on if it was true or not. I ended up moving out of my mums and was living at a friends. He gained all the control back a couple of weeks after I got a phone call of my mum telling me she didnt belive me. I was all on my own 15 years old so I turned to drugs and alcohol untill I couldnt do it anymore so I confronted my mum told her the story again streight away she got us a house to live in the next couple of weeks. I went to the police I wanted to get him REVENGE was all I could think about I was taking him to court. Then befor the last court hearing there was a knock at the door, it was the police informing us that he had comite suiside. Everything came tumboling down, at first I was upset but after that I thought good I will never have to face him again. It was just my mum, brother and little sister… I am now 17 and I am back at school I have had a boyfriend for 2 years and I know I am going to live happily ever after……because he can’t hurt me anymore
by rebecca parkeron 4 Aug 2004. I had told my mum several times and she would ask him about it and he would deny it like always. Mum and dad ended up seperating my dad was a very controling, manipulative man so I remaned living at his house. The abuse was still an occurance but because my mum was abused as a child, she had taught me that it was wrong if someone touches you in your private spots and as I got older I realised that he didnt have the power, I DID. So one nght I went into his room while he was asleep and I got into bed with him. I was in denial that he would do anything to me but I wanted to catch him out. He started touching me, it was discusting. I got up and went in my own room the next.
I thaught this is it, am I going to let him do this to me again? NO, so I rang him he was at work and I said “you touched me last night” he was speachless. I said “I am leaving and there is nothing you can do about it” I thaught he would yell at me, he didnt. He started crying he said “no dont leave im sorry if I have hurt you” that was it for me. I couldnt take this anymore, I told my mum she was distrort she said sorry about 10 times. I dont blame her. Then my mum and I told the family they didnt belive us. That gave my mum doubt on if it was true or not. I ended up moving out of my mums and was living at a friends. He gained all the control back a couple of weeks after I got a phone call of my mum telling me she didnt belive me. I was all on my own 15 years old so I turned to drugs and alcohol untill I couldnt do it anymore so I confronted my mum told her the story again streight away she got us a house to live in the next couple of weeks. I went to the police I wanted to get him REVENGE was all I could think about I was taking him to court. Then befor the last court hearing there was a knock at the door, it was the police informing us that he had comite suiside. Everything came tumboling down, at first I was upset but after that I thought good I will never have to face him again. It was just my mum, brother and little sister… I am now 17 and I am back at school I have had a boyfriend for 2 years and I know I am going to live happily ever after……because he can’t hurt me anymore
by rebecca parkeron 4 Aug 2004

Hi my name is Amanda Sellers. I didn’t have such a good life but just to say I’ve made it through. I am 16 years old and live in TX. My ex-step dad molested me when I was 5 & 11. I thought that happened in every family. But me and my mom ended up getting into a fight and I moved out. Thank god I never had to see that creep again. While I was living with my dad I hit a rebel stage and moved in with a girl who was supposed to be my friend. Well her dad started molesting me from about the age of 12 to 14. Then I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore so I tried to commit suicide. Figuring out that that is not the way was a very hard road. Since then I’ve had lots of counseling and I’m doing very well now. I’m living with my mom and her new husband and my three wonderful brothers. I really just wonted to share my story in hopes that everybody who has went through this can get just a little bit of inspiration.
by Amanda Sellers on 7 Feb 2005

I was almost 18 and pretty naive, having just moved from a very small town [about 6,000] to what seemed like THE BIG CITY [80,000 or so] to me. I was questioning my sexuality – I knew I liked girls, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I liked guys.

When I met him, I felt something I’d never felt for a guy before, so I figured it must be love. Plus, he was a few years older than me, and I was flattered by his interest. For some reason though, I refused to “consummate” the relationship & about 2 months into it, I realized I wasn’t into guys at all. So, being fair, I broke up w/him. He didn’t take it well. He trashed my car, threatening phone calls & emails, etc. I got a restraining order & since he ran a well-known business, and couldn’t afford to ruin his name, he left me alone.

Out of the blue about a month later, he called & asked if we could talk. I met him at a coffee bar, and he apologized for everything, and said he wanted to try to be friends. Sounded good to me-like I said, I was naïve, and very trusting.

We talked on the phone every now and then, and he seemed to be the nice guy I’d first met. So when he called a couple weeks later to invite me to a party at his place, I accepted without a second thought.

I’m pretty sure he slipped something in my drink because, all of a sudden, I was sleepy. I woke up when I felt someone touching me, and I realized I was naked and some guy was trying to penetrate me. I couldn’t see him because the lights were out. I told him to stop. He did for a minute and said, “But they told me you liked me.” I realized he was this slow kid who hung around the “cool” guys, wanting to be one of them. He said, “They told me you liked to pretend you don’t want to do it, but you really do” and tried to enter me again. He was less than halfway inside me, and I told him again to stop. He asked if he was hurting me. I said YES, so he started to pull out but didn’t quite make it before…you know. I’d never been with a guy before, so I was disgusted, and told him to just get the f— out.

I was getting dressed when my ex came in, acting very mad, like he had no idea this other guy was going to try something with me. He asked exactly what happened. I told him, and he said, “Guess that means you’re still a virgin.” I thought that was a weird thing to say. Then he asked, “Did he hurt you?” I said, “A little,” and he said, “That was nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you.”

He pushed me back on the bed, and got on top of me. I fought him and managed to scratch his face. He said, “You can fight me or you can lay back and be quiet, either way I’m gonna f*** you.” I still struggled but he straddled my shoulders and pinned my arms down, then made me perform oral sex on him for a few minutes, then laid on top of me again, then he forced himself inside me. I was completely dry, and thought I was being torn in half. When he finished, I was crying and asked him WHY? He just shrugged, and said, “Why not”? Then I asked if I could get dressed and leave.
He said, “We saved the best for last.” When he said that, another friend of his came in & my ex said, They raped me again & said if I ever told anyone, they’d do kill me, and my sister.

I got dressed & left, still bleeding & in a lot of pain. I went in my room & stuffed all my clothes way back in the closet cos I didn’t want to touch or see them ever again. I got in bed & it was like I was in shock, I couldn’t even cry. My sister came in & asked what was wrong. I told her I was having a very bad period & just needed to sleep.

But I wouldn’t stop bleeding so I went to ER in the middle of the night. The nurse kept asking me if I was raped but I refused to answer her. They sewed me up & sent me on my way.

When I started feeling sick every morning, I went into major denial, till my sister finally asked if I was pregnant. I still thought it just couldn’t be, so we got a home pregnancy test & sure enough…but I still didn’t tell how it happened. It ended up being a tubal pregnancy & they had to terminate it. I’ve always had gyno problems, cysts & such, plus so much damage was done during the rape, the dr. said it was unlikely I’d ever be able to have kids. Here’s the weird thing-I never WANTED kids. But not having kids was MY choice & now that choice had been taken away from me.

I became very angry & destructive-to myself & others. I did drugs & got into a lot of fights in which I was very violent & caused more than a few injuries. It was 6 momths before I told anyone about the rape. I figured there was no chance the cops could do anything about it, but I wanted to tell them anyway because one of the guys was a known sex offender. Maybe they could stop him from hurting someone else.

By some kind of miracle, I ended up w/the best cops & lawyer on earth. They thought of EVERYTHING & made me remember things I’d forgotten-like my clothes in the closet, among other things. During the investigation, one of the guys [the slow kid] killed himself & left a note that basically turned the other 2 in. The outcome: they are both in prison for a long time.
There’s a lot more to this story, but I’ve gone on long enough & I’m afraid I’ll go over the word limit! That was almost 2 yrs ago & I have done a lot of healing, though I still have more to do. I’ve learned how to manage my anger & most of the time, I can overcome my fear & I’m starting to trust people again, though not as easily as I used to.

by abbenormalon 4 Jul 2005

I’m not really sure where to begin; it’s hard to talk about as I’m sure most of you know. It’s a rather long story, but I’ll make it short.

It began for me at age 8, as a young, innocent girl. My brother, who was 6 at the time, and I, had a male babysitter. He was about 18 years old and a family friend, so it was never thought about twice when he came to our house to watch us. He babysat us at least once a week, and everything went on for at least a year, maybe more, it’s hard to remember exact details. But anyways, my brother was physically abused and I was physically and sexually abused. He used to threaten the both of us, which is why nothing was ever said to anyone right away. I remember he would tell us he would hurt our family or tell our parents we were bad (which is huge when you’re a child, that’s the worst thing possible) if we ever said anything, so our mouths were kept shut. My brother and I both got beat up on a weekly basis, whether it was being thrown down the stairs, hit, etc. That alone killed me, not only being beat up, but also watching my little brother get hit. It didn’t end there for me though. He used to send my brother to bed early every time, and after, take me to my room. The things that went on there and the things he did to me and even made me do are unbearable to even think about, but I’m sure you can imagine some of the things that went on. He even used to make up games for me to ‘play’ along with him. It’s so hard to talk about…
Finally, after a year or more, after he told me he would kill me if I didn’t do what he said, I broke down. The next time he was supposed to come babysit, I completely broke down to my parents, crying and telling them all. I remember, vividly, standing on the counter of our kitchen crying and begging them not to let him come over…It completely tore them apart.

Now I’m 20, and it still tears me apart. It’s so hard to deal with. After everything, I was sent to many doctors, therapists, and so much more. It only scared me more. Eventually, I quit therapy because it just made things worse…just imagine having to tell a complete stranger everything as a little kid. Now, things are just even harder. When I think about my childhood, that’s pretty much the only thing that I can remember. It has completely taken over my life. I lost my innocence as a child, and now, that same scared little girl still controls my life. There are days I’m fine, then there are days that I have flashbacks and just go into depression. I hate how it controls my life, but I’m still to scared to get help, and I don’t know what to do. I’m tired of that scared little girl controlling my life. I’m tired of being afraid, being ashamed of myself, and everything else. My parents, still today, think I’m ok because I refuse to talk to them about it because when it all happened, it completely tore our family apart. I hate feeling like a burden to my family and to my few friends who know about it. I just try to keep to myself, but it’s tearing me apart. It’s so hard to talk to others, because I have yet been able to find someone who knows what it’s like, who understands. It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand…

I guess I’ll stop here…but please feel free to email me to talk…I could use someone who understands to talk to, and I’m sure some of you could as well…buffa03@hotmail.com
by Michelleon 27 Oct 2003

I recently ran across this letter that I wrote to the family member who repeatedly molested & finally raped me when I was a child. I wanted to have it published somewhere since I choose not to send the letter to him for a variety of reasons. Just the process of writing the letter and now rereading it is cathartic to me and I hope, maybe, it will be to someone else with a similar experience. Thanks for providing this forum.

“Dear X,
I am not sure how to start this letter. It seems silly to say things like, ‘“It’s been awhile…”’or ‘“It’s obvious we haven’t talked in awhile…”’. I know this will seem harsh, but, somehow, I always thought you would just disappear from my memory. I hoped that our relatedness would somehow disappear from the genealogies. But, it hasn’t. And, unfortunately, it never will. I will forever be in your family as you will be in mine. You must know that you used to haunt my dreams. I would fall asleep and wake up sweating, thinking you were in the room. I am not asking you to feel anything but I am asking for your sympathy. I wish I could erase my life from the ages of five to eight. I often ask God if that’s possible. I used to wish that I had never been born or that you had never been born. But, once again, God had other plans.

I am getting married in March. That is the reason for this letter. I think that maybe I would have erased you from my memory, except that I had to tell my fiancé about you. We had the usual, ‘“Who have you slept with?”’ And unfortunately, you were apart of it. In fact, you were center stage. I realized in the process that I am still angry. (That should be a warning about the rest of the letter.) I thought I had forgiven you but I have only forgiven you as far as I can forget you. I can only say that I forgive you when I know you are far, far away and I don’t have to see you. It’s easy to forgive someone who is distant and you don’t have to speak of or deal with on regular basis. Suddenly, I had to relate the whole story and I had to uncover what has been so carelessly covered for almost 20 years.

Did you know that I love to sing? Did you know that I don’t like onions, in anything? Did you know that I talk to myself, a lot? All of this to say that it’s so unfair that I am carrying around something for a person who doesn’t even know me. You don’t know me at all, you don’t care what happens to me, and yet, 20 years later, when I am preparing to spend the rest of my life with someone who knows me intimately and better than you ever will, I have to talk about YOU. YOU become the subject of many conversations, many tears, many regrets, and sadness. My fiancé has a wonderful relationship with his extended family. Always felt loved, cared for, and wants them at his wedding because they were loyal beyond compare. What did I have? I was isolated, I was talked about, I was the subject of gossiping aunts, and I was left alone…..and guess what; it all came back to you.

I am going to ask the obvious question, ‘“Why?”’ and ‘“Why me?”’ I know that ________ was not the best of fathers or the best of men. I have heard some of the stories and I know they are likely only the tip of the iceberg. I know that there was pornography involved and that had to have some influence on what you were thinking. But, why? Was it just because I was there? Was it just because I was too naïve to say no? You may not know why but I have to ask. I have to ask for my own sanity because if I don’t ask why, then it still becomes something I brought on myself.

I tried to fit into the family. I tried to ‘“put on a game face”’ and pretend like I could just smile and nod my way through the next 30 years of family reunions. But, I can’t. I am not going to lie. I often used to wish that you would die in a car accident; I could have my final revenge by NOT showing up at your funeral and then be done with you. Then, I could have my extended family back.

If you’ve read this far, you are a better man than I remember. All of this to say that I don’t want you at my wedding. I do wish for healing, reconciliation, and whatever it takes to get things to normal, if that’s possible. But, please don’t ruin our day by being there. I hope to close your chapter of my life soon.

Simply,

Y
by KMon 20 May 2005

From the age of 5, I was sexualy abused by my father. I had told my mum several times and she would ask him about it and he would deny it like always. Mum and dad ended up seperating my dad was a very controling, manipulative man so I remaned living at his house. The abuse was still an occurance but because my mum was abused as a child, she had taught me that it was wrong if someone touches you in your private spots and as I got older I realised that he didnt have the power, I DID. So one nght I went into his room while he was asleep and I got into bed with him. I was in denial that he would do anything to me but I wanted to catch him out. He started touching me, it was discusting. I got up and went in my own room the next.
I thaught this is it, am I going to let him do this to me again? NO, so I rang him he was at work and I said “you touched me last night” he was speachless. I said “I am leaving and there is nothing you can do about it” I thaught he would yell at me, he didnt. He started crying he said “no dont leave im sorry if I have hurt you” that was it for me. I couldnt take this anymore, I told my mum she was distrort she said sorry about 10 times. I dont blame her. Then my mum and I told the family they didnt belive us. That gave my mum doubt on if it was true or not. I ended up moving out of my mums and was living at a friends. He gained all the control back a couple of weeks after I got a phone call of my mum telling me she didnt belive me. I was all on my own 15 years old so I turned to drugs and alcohol untill I couldnt do it anymore so I confronted my mum told her the story again streight away she got us a house to live in the next couple of weeks. I went to the police I wanted to get him REVENGE was all I could think about I was taking him to court. Then befor the last court hearing there was a knock at the door, it was the police informing us that he had comite suiside. Everything came tumboling down, at first I was upset but after that I thought good I will never have to face him again. It was just my mum, brother and little sister… I am now 17 and I am back at school I have had a boyfriend for 2 years and I know I am going to live happily ever after……because he can’t hurt me anymore
by rebecca parkeron 4 Aug 2004

I am a victim of sexual abuse by a priest in Iowa while growing up. I was sent to the priest to be ‘cured’ of a bedwetting problem, in approximately 1970. I would find out later in life (age 21) that my parents knew of it and sided with the church’s cover-up. I am 46 years old now, and I have only recently begun to realize the extent that my mind is messed up. I have avoided sexual contact for twenty years because I felt I needed to “replace the priest,” rather than face the true wound of the spiritual damage done to me. In addition, I had a brother who underwent the same thing and turned to alcohol and ostrasizing me rather than support me; he needed me to “go away.” I live each day in a life that borders on the suicidal, but that I have come to believe is worth living at times. Being an adopted child there is nothing that I wanted more in life than to belong to a loving and honest home with parents that cared for me. But they did not truly love…
by Steve C.on 25 Dec 2005