It means remember a time when you did not have the power to protect yourself. It means remembering your shame, vulnerability and pain.

"Not having that little girl in your life means that you have lost something. You have not had access to her softness, to her sense of trust and wonder. When you hate the child within, you hate a part of yourself. It is only in taking care of her that you can really learn to nurture yourself."

So in this healing process i have decided to start from the begining of it all. Lately i have been jumping all around trying to put the pieces back together and ive found out that its just not going to work out for me if i do it thisi way. So as painful as it might be, I'm starting over from the start.

Because of everything that is going on with my "mother" and daughter, I found this to be bring back flashbacks of emotional abuse from her and feelings that I had after I was molested. After years of trying to figure out what I had did wrong, why didnt anyone protect me, I realize that none of it was my fault. My "mother" knew that I was molested and she knew who had molested me but she did nothing about it. I had to find this information out from my sister when i confronted her about it. But then again there was no logical reason why I should really trust her on issues like this because all she does is back my mother up in ever single circumstance. "Mother" can do no wrong, shes God of all Gods.

I knew and understood fully at a young age that no one in my family would protect me. My "mother" being the Malignant Narcissists that she is did everything in her power to tear me down to the ground to her level. She wanted to have absolue control over everything I did, from what I ate, what I wore, to the way I wore my hair to the music I listened to and why I had chose that particular type of music.

At the age of 5 we were walking home from my elementary school(I was in kindergarden at the time and the school was maybe a 10 minute walk from my house) and she had my hair cornrowed with beads on it. While we were walking I had flipped my hair back over my shoulders with my hand(everyone else in my class was doing it so I guess I must have picked it up from there). She completely flipped out, she told me that I wasnt a little while girl and only little white girls flip their hair over their shoulders like that. And that if I ever did it again she was going to cut all of my hair off.

Really was that reacion really nessicary? I was 5 and who cares how I flipped my hair, I WAS A KID. To get so hostile and threatning over a flip showed me her true colors. I knew at 5 that she was a monster. I think it was about a month later i had started being molested by an older boy who rode the bus with me. I didnt tell her a thing. I remember one time she asked me if anyone had touched me and I told her no. Why the hell would i want to tell her someone touched me in my privates? She threatned to cut off my hair because I flipped it, who knows what the hell she had in store for me if I told her this.

The molestation went on until I was in the 3rd grade. He never raped me or made me touch him but he always had his fingers inside of me and for some strange reason he would always rub them together and smell them. Every time he did that it made me sick to my stomach.

I had to take a break from writing this post just now because it brought back so many other memories that I have not delt with and that I had pushed back just to continue to life. Ummmmm....Im actually at a lost for words right now.....

I bought the book, "The Courage to Heal" by EllenBass & Laura Davis. It is a really good book and has helped me deal with being molested, i have been through some of the chapters already but its just so much information that its taking me a while but thats ok too.

I guess i never really thought that being molested would affect my life but it has. After I was molested I had became so quiet, shy and emotinal in school that alot of times I couldnt concentrate with anything in school. My grades were never the greatest even though i knew the work like the back of my hand, i was too busy working on trying to keep the memories hidden so that no one would find out. On top of my grades falling I didnt have that many friends in school. The only person who wanted to play with me was the boy who was molesting me so I tried to cling on to the other kids and would always cry when no one would play with me because I didnt want him to play with me because of what he did. My teachers would send notes home from school saying that I was crying in school again. My "motoher" being the type of "mom" that she is, never asked why i was crying or if anything happyened that made me cry. Her only response was stop being such a cry baby. You would cry if you were molested too. I was 5 and no one cared.

My dad was always working and my sister was younger. It was always them against me. I never was the person my "mother" wanted me to be and im so happy of that. I would hate to be living a life like hers. I have enough anger, sadness adn pain in my life without someone elses. I feel as though if someone is wrong, they are wrong, there are no ways of going around it or justifiying it either. I dont believe in keeping peace at all costs or protecting someone who is hurting your child. Excuses are not a subsutitue for an "apology",

so thats it for me for now. Hopefully by monday i will had a list of everything shes done wrong when it comes to my childhool and compare that with the happy moments.....

And this empty lonely feeling hurts a little bit more then heartbreak.....

 Its been a long week for me. I have so my posts that I have saved on my phone that I need to up load. I’m only writing right now because I just pulled an all nighter helping my husband with his project for school. So while I’m looking for a certain picture on the computer I see the picture of my uncles funeral, it was a military funeral because he was in the Navy just like my dad. The shock just hit me  and reality slapped me in the face reminding me that my dad is still in a coma and he might not wake up. I think I’ve been living this whole time pretending he’s on a really long vacation but in my heart I really do know the truth.

I cried when I saw that picture, I didn’t think about it for a second, I didn’t even have a chance to breathe, a chance to blink before the tears started pouring down my face. I don’t want him to leave me, I want him to be here forever. I know that its not reality but that’s what I wanted. My father is the first man I have ever loved. He’s my best friend, he’s never left my side no matter how many arguments we’ve had or how many times I’ve messed up he stood by me. I already lost my birth mother years ago, well………..I never had her to begin with and I don’t want to lose my father too. I don’t want to go through this world with out my dad, but I don’t want him to suffer either. My heart hurts so bad, like someone just keeps stabbing me over and over again in the same spot, not giving me a chance to heal…… but I know that I have to have faith and my dad would be so proud of  me right now especially since I’m keeping my promises.

I love you daddy, please hurry up and come home:(

Trust me, I know how it feels. I know exactly how it feels to cry in the shower so no one can hear you. I know what it’s like to wait for everyone to be asleep so you can fall apart , for everything to hurt so bad you just want it all to end. I know exactly how it feels.

All of those movies you see on TV about how rape victims behave after they are raped aren’t true. They send out a false image of security as if everything becomes normal again after the attack, like it’s so easy to transition back to life after it happens.

The reality of it is it’s the worst thing in the world to have happen to you. But compared to the physical attack, the emotional and mental battle is so much worse and painful because you can see those scars but you feel them everyday.

Survivors go through the daunting task of trying to find themselves again, they struggle with having the right support there for the healing process as well as if they don’t haven’t support. Dealing with family member who don’t understand or blame you for the attack often makes the recovery harder and longer.

We have fought to stay alive during the attack and now we’re fighting just to keep our mind, souls and spit intact.

Some days it’s easier than others. Then you have days when you just want to give up because the fight is too hard and you feel like you’re always losing.

Virgins who are raped often have no sense of sexuality when compared to a non-virgin (I’m not saying one attack is worse than the other but the affect are different when the woman was a virgin at the time of the attack). When a virgin is raped because they have no sexual experience to compare it to, then the only thing they have is the rape and that’s something that is hard to deal with for anyone.

My struggles is that I was raped as a virgin. I had no sexual experience to compare what sex is suppose to feel like. Someone took such an intimate part of me that it is still harming me to this day. 

One thing he told me that bother me(because it is absolutely true) is “you have to think about weather or not you can handle it. You have to think about weather you can handle it before during and afterwards”. it hurt me because it’s true.  My body is feeling the physicality of it but my mind sometimes does the exact opposite which brought on the panic attacks and flashbacks.

It’s such a long process when it comes to sex. I hate the fact that I have to think about weather my anxiety was high earlier in the day, or if I saw or heard something that reminded me of the attack, or if I do have a flashback that day, being intimate is much harder and more frustrating. I shouldn’t have to have a check list to go through just because some animals decide to take what wasn’t theirs.

I know the flashbacks aren’t my fault and neither are the panic attacks. I feel like it is my fault because I’m the one dealing with them; I’m the one who is suffering. As a wife I feel like a failure because I cant be with him. And the thing is it’s all because of another man and that makes me feel ashamed.


I’m just so angry that I cant get that part of me back again. I’m angry because it feels like all those years of hard work I’ve been doing has been erased and I have to stat all over again……

Where the fuck is my parole board? Where is my hearing going to happen? How many years do I have to serve before i’m free again?

If rape was committed in the per-pubertal stage then it will cause certain difficulty in understanding what sexual intercourse is really about. At puberty, rape becomes the determining factor of how sexual relationships should be. It has a remarkable effect on how the person expects sex to be later in life.

I don’t think I’ve every been so angry in my life. I don’t even know what to say or how to say it….

I don’t feel lost, I feel hurt, I feel like i’m carrying around blame that is not mine to carry but because of its results, i’m the only one who has to deal with them, he doesn’t.

People don’t understand what rape does to a person. They don’t fully understand that after it happens its not over. It could be a situation where a woman is raped, her rapist gets caught and put to jail for life, that doesn’t mean its over. There are so many different  layers that are under it all that it feels like you’re pulling them all the time.

Its such a stressful and painful feeling when you have to deal with the flashbacks and panic attacks especially when you’re in a relationship.

For me its embarrassing. Like how do you explain to someone that they did nothing wrong but you just had a bad moment. And then it gets to the point when it starts to affect your sex life and its not even your fault.

I don’t understand why we are the ones who are violated and put through hell and then still have to suffer through hell in our every day lives. Why we are the ones suffering with panic attacks and night terrors, affecting our spouses, our children, our families. Meanwhile they walk away free of charge.

Its not fair and i’m pissed the fuck off. This whole time I haven’t been angry at any of the men who raped me until now. Now its starting to affect my family and i’m angry. I’m the one having flashbacks while being intimate with my own husband. I don’t see how that’s a fair trade. Like I haven’t dealt with enough pain already.

I’m angry because I feel like i’m being punished for something that I had no control over.  I’m angry at them because I’ve worked so hard to get to this point and now I have to start over again.

I have enough things to read and research on, it feels like everyday week there’s another book added to my library of problems. Sometimes I feel like it would have been so much easier if he would have killed me instead of being toured right now. Some days I feel like I don’t deserve my husband because I think that it would be so much easier if he was with someone with out my problems. Sometimes I really do think that if given the option, most men wouldn’t date rape victims.


Today we were driving to run some errands. And it was warm and sunny outside. I’m sitting in the passengers seat having a flashback because it felt exactly how it did I was raped for the first time. The sun was in the same spot, the wind was blowing in the same direction and the air had the same scent to it. I blinked my eyes and saw my ex and me in his car driving up the road to his house. I had almost lost it until I touched my ring and snapped back to reality.

I don’t like the summer because of everything that happened between us, I
still remember it all…….