Adapt and Overcome

Adapt and Overcome


I have debated on whether or not to write about this. It is something that has tortured me for many years and something that only a handful of people even know about. On that note, as I have said before I started this blog as a means of therapy and a way to release and let go. I write about my crazy life with my kiddos and hopefully some important lessons in life. Today I will release the pent up anger and sadness that has hollowed out a hole inside my heart and ate away at me for years. I lost my brother to leukemia when I was 15 and to a child death is an emotion that we do not know how to fully comprehend. I went through a period of acting out and complete rebellion against my parents, God, and the world. I lost my best friend, my hero, and my guide. My brother had taken care of me my entire life. I have not discussed this before and I almost hate to do it now but I grew up in a home that was driven by an addiction to pain killers. Both my parents ended up disabled due to back injuries they suffered at work. I understand pain and back pain is a terrible thing to have to endure. Their doctor however I feel is to blame for giving medicines to people knowing that they are addictive. My dad was the first to fall prey to the dangers of prescriptions pain killers. He went through multiple surgeries on his back and up to the day he died he suffered. He began to take more and more pills to try and kill the pain. Once my mom was hurt and they both were home it became a shared addiction. They would take these medicines and stagger around until they pretty much passed out. One day my mom would do it and my dad would fuss and complain about her and the next day it would be my dad’s turn. I cannot count the amount of times I got off the school bus and walked into a house where one parent was knocked out in their chair and the other one was slurring words and burning things with their cigarettes. I begin to hate my home. As a very young child it was a place of comfort and protection so why did I have to endure this now? My brother would come home and see the situation I was in then take me to a family members house until it died down. He was my rock. Once he died I felt so hurt…so alone.

I was so empty inside and wanted so badly to die. I started getting phone calls from one of my brother’s close friends. He would check on me and see if I needed anything. As the days went by I began to experiment with alcohol on the weekends with friends. I never wanted to go home. I would run into this man in town as he was a police officer and always seemed to be “around”. Some girls and I were out riding one weekend and we had all had a little too much to drink. He passed us in town and turned around to pull us over. He pulled me to the side and said if I would just meet with him he wouldn’t turn us in or contact our parents. Well me being barely 16 and very vulnerable I just agreed. For the next few months he would meet me before school and right after and we would just sit and talk. We talked about my brother and about my grief. Before long what was a friendship turned into something that I had never expected. It became a sexual relationship…one with a man who was 24 at the time while I was a mere child. All I knew was that my brother was gone and this man was the only one who understood me. I found out that he was still married although he had told me in the beginning they were separated and divorcing. I was so involved by this time that I just couldn’t break myself away from him. He had become my shoulder to cry on and my new rock. Within the next few months my life would take another drastic turn. People began to find out…people who didn’t need to know. I was a minor and what he was doing was wrong. He had brainwashed me into believing no one else cared about me especially with my parents at home popping their pills. His buddy began to see my friends on the side and it became a horrible mess. We got into a situation that we couldn’t get out of without a lot of people getting hurt. The chief of police found out and began having us followed. Eventually me and one of my close friends were called in and interrogated about our relationships with the officers. We were told that if we told everything that happened we wouldn’t be in trouble. I was terrified. I told everything. Charges was filed against both men and our lives became the talk of the town.

Both men lost their jobs and were pretty much ran out of town. My friend and I were looked down upon as trouble. I felt as if I had ruined my entire life just by letting someone into my life. I tried to end it all by taking a handful of my parent’s pills. That was a mess and just landed me in the hospital sick and not dead. I was once again alone and hurt. I had degraded myself just by confiding my soul to someone else. After I began to heal from all of the pain I had brought upon myself I met a guy at school who seemed as if he was Heaven sent. Keep in mind I was a teenager and very impressionable. He bought me clothes, purses, and jewelry. He complimented me and treated me like a princess. He was wonderful until he knew he had me wrapped. He started changing a little at a time. I noticed him getting hateful and bossy with me. If I didn’t do something exactly as he wanted he would call me names and make fun of me to his friends. I tried to break up with him and he jumped out of my car driving down the highway. It was pure craziness. The more I tried to leave the more violent he became. I was home alone one night and I had told him I was too sick to go out anywhere. He came over anyway. When I didn’t answer his questions the way he wanted he decided that was it. He hit me so hard in the face that I honestly saw stars. He punched me in the stomach and pushed me to the ground. Before I knew it he was pouring alcohol all over my body as he ripped my clothes off of me. He forced himself on me and all I could do was lay there and cry. I remember getting so sick that I laid my head to the side and vomited. I remember Pink Floyd playing in the background and the evil grin on his face. He got up and left me and I didn’t hear from him for weeks. I was so hurt and ashamed I didn’t tell anyone until I found out I was pregnant…and then I didn’t tell the whole story. Needless to say he wasn’t happy and told me to have an abortion. I refused and over the next few months I was beaten repeatedly. I almost lost the baby at four months due to a severe beating. Restraining orders were put in place just for him to break them. When I had the baby the delivery was horrific. My amniotic fluid had been “leaking” since one of the beatings and when I delivered it was mostly gone. They called it a “dry birth”. Her heart quit beating four times and due to the lack of oxygen during these episodes we were told she may suffer brain damage. This became a reality as we learned over the next few years she was developmentally delayed. The man who had beat raped me and beat me was given supervised visitation (by his parents) with my child. He saw her on and off until he nearly killed her. He began to hit her and he even gave her alcohol which landed her in the hospital. After years of fighting him and the justice system we finally won. A new judge was put in place and he had no time for men who abused. He terminated all rights and told him that if he ever contacted either one of us or attempted to hurt us again he would spend the rest of his life in prison.

That was it…he was out of my life as quickly as he entered it. My parent’s gave up their pain medications and decided to dedicate their time to helping me raise my daughter. Things began to look up. However, my daughter was diagnosed with mild mental retardation, ADHD, ODD at age four and then after a suicide attempt at age 14 she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I later learned her father also had bipolar disorder himself and had attempted suicide multiple times. He went on to have 8 children by different women, married 4 times, and refused to ever work or take care of any of his kids. He is worthless….evil. I am blessed to have my daughter safe with me….although the years have been long and hard she has taught me so much about life. I went through hell and I overcame it. Yes, I am scarred but I alive. I have chose to live and not just exist. I wrote this to help heal my past. I had to release it and let it go. I am not that young girl anymore. I do not have to have another human in my life to survive. I have dealt with pain and I have stared evil in the face but it made me stronger. I am a very brave, strong, beautiful woman who has the most wonderful blessings in her life. I am a person that wasn’t afraid to ask for forgiveness from others however I wasn’t strong enough to forgive myself. This is a step in that direction. I ask you to use this as a positive aspect in your life. If you or someone you know is being abused or hurt in any way stand up and fight for freedom. Don’t be afraid to tell someone. Get the help you need. Remember you are NEVER alone. Don’t let evil stop your life…don’t stop living….you have to quit existing and begin living! Life is way too short…forgive yourself!

3 thoughts on “Adapt and Overcome

  1. Holy. Fucking. Shitballs. SO much love & respect to you, lady. This… this is why we write. I grew up in an addictive household, was sexually abused as a child, lost my father to cancer and thank goodness got out of an abusive relationship before it got physical. I have yet to write about any of it, but maybe I will when I can put by big girl pants on. I don’t even know what else to say because this post touched so many scars for me. Thank you for sharing. ❤

    • You have to break through those barriers my dear. I haven’t spoken of these wounds ever. Not many people know what happened to me but I had to heal in my own way and by writing and expressing my feelings I feel completely purged….forgiveness? I don’t know that I will ever have that even though therapy tells you that it is necessary. I just don’t think it is for me! Write on my friend. It is quite liberating. xxoo!

    • I don’t know if I replied to this post or not….if I didn’t shame on me. I am sorry I haven’t been around for months. It seems life just gets in the way sometimes. I am so sorry for the heartaches you have endured…I understand and feel your grief! I have decided to try and write at least once a week…if only a paragraph. It is really therapy for me! Please don’t be a stranger!!! xoxo

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