Today I will tell you about the day that was so horrible for me that I made the bad decision to try to take my own life. As I told you before I was a sexually abused child, after the authorities found out and arrested my moms boyfriend I overheard a conversation saying that it was my own fault that I was molested. After I heard that I started wondering if maybe it was my fault. I mean already I had been molested by at least 3 different people, was there something about me that made those people want to hurt me? Did I act in some kind of way that made them think that it was okay to hurt me? What did I do to deserve to be hurt so badly so often? It had to be my own fault. (I thought at the time)
I went into my Grandma Helens room and there was all of the bottles of meds. I figured that if I took enough I could just go to sleep and never feel the pain again.
So I took at least 3 of the bottles of pills. I went into the living room and got some paper and a pen to write my mom a goodbye note. I assured her that I loved her and that it was not her fault and told her that I was sorry for causing such problems, that I should have just kept my mouth shut then maybe her boyfriend Jim would not be in jail and then she wouldn't be so sad. I thought maybe if I was out of the way (since it was my own fault that he did what he did to me) he would get out of jail and he and mom could be happy together without me.
I put the note in an old library book and pushed it way under the couch. I figured that she would find it after I was gone and that it would make her feel better. I went into the kitchen and got a HUGE piece of German chocolate cake. I figured it couldn't make me any fatter now because I was about to die anyway.
After I ate that I layed on the loveseat and tried to just fall asleep. I layed there in a half awake half asleep state for I don't know how long. I looked over at the couch and saw my moms friend looking at my library book, I thought why in the world did she look under the couch and get that library book? I was to weak and out of it to say anything. I remember my mom running into the living room shaking me, it was like I could see her mouth moving but could not really make out what she was saying. Next thing I know the ambulance is there making me drink all types of gross stuff. I guess the purpose of that was to make me throw up. It seemed that I threw up gallons of German chocolate cake. (I don't like German chocolate cake that much any more) Then off to the hospital I went to get tubes stuck all into me. I was very lucky to be alive. The lady finding my note and also my stomach being full of cake saved my life.
The reason I am writing this is because years later I was thinking about that day, about what a coincidence it was that moms friend just happened to look under the couch see that book and pick it up to look through it. I had never seen her read before. I truly believe it was God watching over me. Something greater than we can even imagine urged her to pick up that book. It was not yet my time to go. I was trying to mess with Gods plan and he said no not yet you have not finished your work here on earth.
I am so thankful to still be here. My life is now wonderful. God has blessed me with 3 wonderful children and the best husband in the world. He has brought good loving people into my life such as Caleb, Gma Erika, Gma Bessie, and so many of my childrens friends have touched my heart.
If you know me and you read this, maybe it will help you to know me better. If you read this and you are going through a tough time hopefully it will help you to know that things will get better, that every hard thing we go through makes us stronger and brings us closer to God. We will survive and be an even better person because of it.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Continued
The ambulance took me to the hospital after my mothers friend found the note. After they took care of me they would not let me go home with my mom. They took me to a girls shelter. I was so scared. I am a pretty shy person, so going through all of that and suddenly being put into a shelter with a bunch of strangers was pretty scary. I eventually started talking to some of the other girls, in a way it was probably good for me because I learned that I wasn't the only person in the world with this crazy life. I don't really remember how long I lived there, it seems like it was about 2 or 3 months. It actually is one of my good memories. Sometimes in the middle of the night a few of us would sneak to the kitchen, the cook would hear us and he would come out and make us hot chocolate. We would play volleyball all of the time, before that I had never really played a sport, but I really loved playing volleyball. A few times the boys shelter would come and we would play against them. As I said, being there was scary at first, but it is now a good memory, the people there truly cared about us girls.
I left there because a foster home became available. 4 or 5 other girls already lived in the foster home. They were all very pretty girls and I come along at that time I was overweight and felt that I was very ugly. The girls were nice to me but I never really fit in with them. I guess the foster parents weren't bad, but I wanted so much to go back and live with my mom. She had made a lot of mistakes, but I still loved her and wanted to be with her. The social worker would come pick me up and take me to visit my mom. For a long time it had to be supervised visits, I would get to see my mom for a few hours at a time and then I would have to go back to the foster home. Finally, during a Christmas break I was going to get to stay the night with my mom with no supervision. I got to her house and she and her boyfriend Jim had everything packed and ready to go. We ran away to Florida ............. More to come, I have so many stories of my abuse, of living in the shelter and in the foster home, and later being found in Florida and put into juvenile JAIL for being a runaway (what the heck, my mom took me) that I want to write about.
The ambulance took me to the hospital after my mothers friend found the note. After they took care of me they would not let me go home with my mom. They took me to a girls shelter. I was so scared. I am a pretty shy person, so going through all of that and suddenly being put into a shelter with a bunch of strangers was pretty scary. I eventually started talking to some of the other girls, in a way it was probably good for me because I learned that I wasn't the only person in the world with this crazy life. I don't really remember how long I lived there, it seems like it was about 2 or 3 months. It actually is one of my good memories. Sometimes in the middle of the night a few of us would sneak to the kitchen, the cook would hear us and he would come out and make us hot chocolate. We would play volleyball all of the time, before that I had never really played a sport, but I really loved playing volleyball. A few times the boys shelter would come and we would play against them. As I said, being there was scary at first, but it is now a good memory, the people there truly cared about us girls.
I left there because a foster home became available. 4 or 5 other girls already lived in the foster home. They were all very pretty girls and I come along at that time I was overweight and felt that I was very ugly. The girls were nice to me but I never really fit in with them. I guess the foster parents weren't bad, but I wanted so much to go back and live with my mom. She had made a lot of mistakes, but I still loved her and wanted to be with her. The social worker would come pick me up and take me to visit my mom. For a long time it had to be supervised visits, I would get to see my mom for a few hours at a time and then I would have to go back to the foster home. Finally, during a Christmas break I was going to get to stay the night with my mom with no supervision. I got to her house and she and her boyfriend Jim had everything packed and ready to go. We ran away to Florida ............. More to come, I have so many stories of my abuse, of living in the shelter and in the foster home, and later being found in Florida and put into juvenile JAIL for being a runaway (what the heck, my mom took me) that I want to write about.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
my life
I dont really remember very much about my childhood. I know that I wasnt a happy child. I remember only one Christmas, my mom was with this man and he gave my sister and I each $50.00 for Christmas. I am not sure why I remember that but it is the only childhood Christmas I remember. I also remember 1 New Years. My sister and I were with my dad. He took us to a VFW or some place like that, then he dropped us off at the movie. We saw 9 to 5. Those are my only childhood holiday memories. I dont recall any Easters, Valentines Days, Birthdays or any of those things I imagine others remember. I am not saying we didnt celebrate them, just that I have no memories of them.
I think that until I had Erika I tend to only recall the bad things. I remember that mom had many different boyfriends. It seemed that all of them had major problems such as going to bars and drinking to much. Many of them physically abused my mom or molested my sister and or me.
I remember the very first time I was sexually abused. My mom had married a man named Jerry. He was actually a very nice man. He had a teen aged son that molested me. Im guessing that I was about 5. He made me go to his room and then it started, finally his sister walked in and made him stop. She took me to her room and watched over me when ever she could. In later years the same step brother molested my sister.
I remember another step father beating my mom so bad she was bleeding from the head, I tried to run and get help but as I ran he grabbed me by the hair and stopped me. After he made mom go back into the house he and his mother poured alcohol over my moms head, I will never ever forget her screaming. This same man is the one that hurt me the most. For many years he molested me continuously. The first time it happened we were staying the night at my uncles house so I had to sleep in the same bed with my mom and her boyfriend, he began to fondle me. At that time I was to scared to say anything. The next day I told my mom but he was able to convince her that he didnt mean to do it that he thought that he was touching her. I was 9 or 10 at the time. Months later he began sneaking into my room at night. I wasnt able to tell because he said that he would kill my mom if I told. So many memories of his sickness. I remember being at my moms friends house and sleeping on the floor in the living room, He and my mom would be sitting on the couch and he would sneak his toes under my covers and fondle me. No one even knew it was happening. I should have screamed, I should have hit him, or got up and ran. But fear kept me pretending sleep and kept my mouth shut for years. Finally when I was about 12 I slipped and told a girl at school what was happening. She was supposed to keep it a secret but next thing I knew they called me into the office and there were police there that questioned me. I went home and the boyfriend had been taken to jail. Later that night I walked past my mothers bedroom door and overheard her friend say that it was my own fault that I was molested because she had seen me sitting on the boyfriends lap. I went into my great grandmas room and took 3 or 4 bottles of meds, wrote a goodbye note and waited for what I hoped would be God to come get me and take me away from the pain. But before that happened another of my moms friends found my note and they called 911 (Thank God because it wasnt my time to go. Life got much better later, it took awhile but now I am so grateful to be alive) See how I remember so much of the bad but cannot remember even 1 birthday party. Weird huh.
I have to go for now. I am supposed to be working. I will add more later.
I think that until I had Erika I tend to only recall the bad things. I remember that mom had many different boyfriends. It seemed that all of them had major problems such as going to bars and drinking to much. Many of them physically abused my mom or molested my sister and or me.
I remember the very first time I was sexually abused. My mom had married a man named Jerry. He was actually a very nice man. He had a teen aged son that molested me. Im guessing that I was about 5. He made me go to his room and then it started, finally his sister walked in and made him stop. She took me to her room and watched over me when ever she could. In later years the same step brother molested my sister.
I remember another step father beating my mom so bad she was bleeding from the head, I tried to run and get help but as I ran he grabbed me by the hair and stopped me. After he made mom go back into the house he and his mother poured alcohol over my moms head, I will never ever forget her screaming. This same man is the one that hurt me the most. For many years he molested me continuously. The first time it happened we were staying the night at my uncles house so I had to sleep in the same bed with my mom and her boyfriend, he began to fondle me. At that time I was to scared to say anything. The next day I told my mom but he was able to convince her that he didnt mean to do it that he thought that he was touching her. I was 9 or 10 at the time. Months later he began sneaking into my room at night. I wasnt able to tell because he said that he would kill my mom if I told. So many memories of his sickness. I remember being at my moms friends house and sleeping on the floor in the living room, He and my mom would be sitting on the couch and he would sneak his toes under my covers and fondle me. No one even knew it was happening. I should have screamed, I should have hit him, or got up and ran. But fear kept me pretending sleep and kept my mouth shut for years. Finally when I was about 12 I slipped and told a girl at school what was happening. She was supposed to keep it a secret but next thing I knew they called me into the office and there were police there that questioned me. I went home and the boyfriend had been taken to jail. Later that night I walked past my mothers bedroom door and overheard her friend say that it was my own fault that I was molested because she had seen me sitting on the boyfriends lap. I went into my great grandmas room and took 3 or 4 bottles of meds, wrote a goodbye note and waited for what I hoped would be God to come get me and take me away from the pain. But before that happened another of my moms friends found my note and they called 911 (Thank God because it wasnt my time to go. Life got much better later, it took awhile but now I am so grateful to be alive) See how I remember so much of the bad but cannot remember even 1 birthday party. Weird huh.
I have to go for now. I am supposed to be working. I will add more later.
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