Ritualized Abuse (Part 2)

Entry 2

 *This is going to be rambly. My head is all over and I can't think too well.*

So, to start off, as a child there was a lot of emotional/covert incest and possibly non-touching sexual abuse by my father. Well, maybe some touching 'down there' in that 'area'. He also pretended to pinch my (maybe he even did) nipples and boobs as a little girl and preteen and even some in my teen years but it was just playfully... But I don't think he meant it as bad. No, I know he didn't because he isn't sick like that. Besides I have to protect him. I HAVE to. I can't betray him. I am supposed to that's what they told me!   Whatever... but I am confused because I read that for something to be sexual abuse however, I guess the person has to do it with sexual intent. So, touching, if done innocently wouldn't be sexual abuse..? I am confused about this because it's hard for me to be upset and angry without knowing my dad's intent. I KNOW he loves me and would never mean to hurt me. He did take the belt to me as a kid sometimes but I don't know. It was traumatizing and very excessive and cruel at times I feel but he didn't want to hurt me. He also choked me once or twice. He wrapped his hands around my neck and I couldn't breathe or anything but I was an adult when this happened though so it's not like I was a child or anything. So it's not that bad right?

He liked to play mean and painful games that prevented me from having control of movement or well, any control. And he found it funny but they hurt. But I still liked them because I was stupid and young. Plus I got attention from my dad and I loved him so very much. One of the things was "See How Long You Can Take It" which was being tickled relentlessly without laughing or moving. You couldn't move at all or we would have to start all over. It tickled so much it almost hurt! I loved it and I hated it but then I just begged to stop but we couldn't until I had not moved. I failed over and over....

And then he would pinch HARD my tendons that sent like a sort of nerve shock through my body. It made me collapse. I can only describe it like a shock going straight through my neuro system. Not like an electric shock but then again it kind of felt like one. I have been shocked before by accident as a child and I can't describe how it felt exactly but it was similar in the sense that I felt this sharp pain that went along my tendon and it affected my nerves and just was crippling. A painful involuntary spasm. The primary one's being the tendons in my neck by my carotids, the ones behind my knees, and the one where your leg bend at the hip (right next to my v*gina). That hurt a lot but then he made it tickle some too... And then I laughed but partly due to being nervous maybe?

He and his family also brainwashed me in a sense. But they loved me and they weren't intentionally trying to hurt me. They couldn't have. They wouldn't have done that.. I don't think they knew what they were doing. But it caused unbearable emotional and psychological pain and confusion for me. I can't even begin to verbalize the pain. I really can't. You know the heartbreak that you felt when you broke up with a boyfriend or someone you love? Or the feeling when you lose someone you love? You know how it felt like you just couldn't go on with life? That intense ache. It's unbearable. Well, the pain psychological pain I felt was so much worse that any of that (and I have felt both of those things, more than once). The pain almost paralyzed me. It made me "learn" to hate my mom through them. They poisoned me. Anyway, that went on from early(ish) - mid childhood to mid teens. Along with the "sexual tinged" stuff from my dad. You see my dad, from a young age started getting me alone and told me terrible painful things about my mother that weren't even substantiated I don't think but I was just a little kid how was I to know? But I believed him. And he told me I was his special girl... We were best buds, pals. And I loved him with an intensity I can't describe. A loyalty. An understood agreement between the two of us and his family. One I was to keep at all costs... I had to. That was what they told me. My mind was so trashed. It was NOT natural but to me it was. His mother and sisters told me it was my duty to protect daddy from mom because she was evil and terrible. They would ask me if I really loved my dad I needed to protect him and make him happy. That meant holding him while he cried sometimes and I would be bawling because the person I love the most is in so much pain. I felt every bit of that pain. Every single bit... I don't get how they all got their pain, ideas, beliefs, and thoughts into me but they did, and I felt all of their pain plus my own. It was so horrible I even felt it physically. And then for my mom, they instilled a hatred so deep, that it still manifests itself sometimes deep down. It is always there. It is first response. I can't get it to stop or leave. They put it there in my head those assholes! But I can't call them that because they loved me and I loved/love them all so dearly and in every other aspect they were amazing. .... F*ck I get these two conflicting messages in my head from one side I hear this and then I remember I can't feel that way it't not right to betray daddy.....

But about the stuff with my mom again... Sorry for talking so much. I just, no one gets any of this mind manipulation shit.... I hope I am understood somewhere...

Anyway, The things my dad told me that my mom did were excruciatingly painful to hear (even as an adult, let alone child of 9, maybe younger). But as I got older the bitterness grew and festered and it was so deeply rooted that I even began to hate myself. I was so mean to my mom. Everything she did to get close to me I seemed to knock down. I wouldn't let her get close to me. I 'hated' her, but at the same time I felt bad because I loved her. Even now I am almost in tears remembering how I felt. All of these emotions are coming back. I was in such conflict all the time.) Nothing was real ever for me. I didn't even know how I felt. Who was the 'real me'? I didn't know whose emotions I was feeling... Grandma's? Dad's? Aunt's? Had they become mine? "What is wrong with me? You are a stupid, evil bitch?!" I often thought...

My mom would always ask me, "Why do you treat me like this Chantel? What have I ever done to you to deserve this treatment?!"

(I couldn't tell her what my dad was saying that made me hate her so. I had to protect him! He was my love and I just, I loved him so much it hurt. Literally. I loved him and had to protect him at all costs. That was my job! My duty! I didn't have an option...)

So I just said, "I don't know why I act the way I do mom. I am a f*ck up. I am a b*tch."

The whole time inside I was hating myself for hurting my mom because I really didn't hate her like I told myself... I loved her so much but I couldn't tell her why... So, I think that I just made myself believe that I really truly hated her as a way to cope... But I knew I was killing her inside (part of me hated hurting her and the other part loved it. I thought she deserved it for hurting my dad so much because he was my favorite). Looking back, I can see how I would have thought I hated her. I had such ANGER towards her for hurting my love... I had such resentment inside. I could not be nice to her. I just couldn't. I can't even explain it. I just can't and I am sorry...

The thing is, I never gave her a chance to tell me her side of the story. It somehow never dawned on me that she had a side to tell. I always just thought she was the bad guy and my dad was the angel. (Now that I am forcing myself to think about it; I can only imagine how confused my mom must have been to have at one point, had a child who loved her so much and then, BOOM change into this hateful little kid.) My mom and I honestly had a pretty good relationship until the "age of awakening".

Oh, and you know what the "funny" and crazy making thing was? During times when I was being horrific to my mom (which I have no excuse for honestly even though I was just a little girl); my dad would always ask, "Why do you treat your mom like this? Why are you so hateful? What is wrong with you?” He would be so mad at me and then I would have to try and come up with the right answer on the spot without giving him away. I was under so much pressure... I just I don't remember honestly. I think I just blocked a lot of the emotions out.

But it drove me so mad!!!! He and his family told me all this horrible crap about her and told me how hurt and bothered he was by her and expected me to not act otherwise?! All of the 'evil' stuff she had done... How was that not suppose to affect me for f*ck sake... I was a child!!! I couldn't f*cking process it, let alone know how to act towards her...) I don't honestly think they knew that they were doing was wrong... Which then makes me the guilty one for being angry. I wasn't supposed to be angry I was supposed to protect and I just need to punish myself when I get like this..... I am sorry I really am for being so horrible... And I am sorry for that tangent. That wasn't even half of the mind stuff but I can't do anymore right now it hurts me too bad...

Saying all of that wasn't supposed to happen. My hands kind of took over. I apologize. I wasn't supposed to say all of that.  

But here I am not able to f*cking stop eh? I just it is coming out and I really should not be saying any of this... But I feel compelled to...

And so, there is this memory that I realized I have always had but just somehow 'forgot' it? It was I remember something from when I was REALLY little. It is almost like it is in snapshots. It takes place in my old house. I moved from there when I was 4 so I couldn't have been very old.

I don't remember what happened or why I was in pain... Dad... That's why.

Somehow, it seems like I am naked? But it can't be real. It seems so unreliable. I barely know what happened I only have like 3 or 4 snapshots and then some feelings of pain and sadness and fear. Such hysterical fear-for-your-life type of fear. But maybe this was a dream. Maybe it didn't happen. I don't know...

But, like I said, it seems like I am naked somehow. It also seems like I am seeing myself. During some parts it is like I am actually viewing it out of my own eyes, but then other parts it's like I am watching a movie or just looking at pictures. Does that makes sense?

Anywho, in some parts of this it seems like I am crouching on a register (air vent) absolutely hysterical. I do remember (I think) doing that hiccup thing when you cry too much the sobs turn into spasms. I remember pain. Lots of pain. I am guessing the belt was involved.

Some reason it seems my mom is in the mix. Purple pajamas. Something about purple pajamas... Maybe she is wearing her purple pajamas? It seems like she was holding me. I am not sure when though.

I don't really remember anymore.

I am not even sure if this is real.

What could I have done to cause this? I was maybe 3? I had just turned 4 when we moved...

I wish I could know the whole thing so I could know what it is that I did...

I know I did something though. He was mad. He never did it without a reason. He wasn't mean like that. He is a good dad.

This type of treatment wasn't ALL the time.

He does love me... I know it.

But, again I doubt this is even real. I just have this feeling it is not how I thought it was. There is a reasonable explanation for this. There has to be. I did something bad. Maybe he didn't even hit me. I don't f*cking know...

Part 1.5 of My Story: Child Physical Abuse

(Entry 1)

*** I am not even sure if this constitutes as physical abuse… But, my dad used to like to play games with me. I still think that to him, they were innocent. He meant nothing bad by them at all. I am just confused because of the details I am going to tell you. Trigger warning.***

~~When I was really little (5 or 6, maybe even before that), my dad used to play games with me. We would horseplay and wrestle around. I actually did love it. They were fun. It made me ornery. Sure, the games kind of hurt sometimes but dad would be laughing and so would I because he was. They were our games so it had to be OK right?

This one thing in particular is standing out to me. I always have known we did it. There is not repression at all. It has always been there, but recently I have been questioning whether or not it was abusive...

The game was called "Indian Torture”. It would start with us wrestling around. I would be hysterically laughing and enjoying myself. He eventually would pin me down on my back (or I am ashamed to say I would also willingly lie there...) he would do this thing with his hand. He would make it into a certain shape. I will try and explain it: Make a fist, take your middle F-you finger and put it up, now bend it back down but not at the base joint where the other ones still in the fist are bent at, bend it at the middle joint so it is not flush with the other ones. (Sorry if that made no sense lol).

He then would put that middle finger knuckle that was sticking up from the others on my sternum and rub really hard. It hurt a lot. He would sometimes not rub it into my sternum but would bang it on my sternum really fast (It was kind of what a sewing machine looks like when in use; up and down really fast. That is how I have always thought it to be like. I know it is an odd association.) You could actually hear his knuckle hitting against my bone. He would be laughing and I would be laughing too and say "Ow that hurts." but would still be laughing. I was weird and messed up. I usually asked to play this game and I don't know why.... I WANTED it I guess. Which makes me bad. I feel bad.

The odd thing is, when/if I did ask him to stop (when I eventually had enough) the more I struggled to get free the more he did it and the more excited he got. Even back in July when he came into my room at night; when I tried to push him off of me and tell him “no” the more I did the more excited he got and the more compelled he was to continue. After awhile I guess he gave up but still... It has always been like that. He never stops when you want him to. He just doesn't, he has to keep going and keep going until you get mad at him. Like REALLY mad. Even then he will laugh and find it funny and will make this smirky and surprised face, one that would make me smile despite being mad. I couldn't and still can't not smile. Then it makes him think I am not mad and actually am enjoying it.

I guess I am confused because he didn't mean to do these things to hurt me. They were just games. He did get too rough obviously but he loves me I know he does. Sure, he is inappropriate and had boundary issues about sexual talk and other things like that when I was a child (and even now) but he DOES love me. I hate painting him as the bad guy.
Maybe he didn't rub/"bang" my sternum as hard as I thought he did but it just felt like it because I was so little? His hand was as big as my whole sternum. Actually it was probably bigger because I was always a really little kid. I was much smaller than everyone else my age. That was just how we played: rough. He liked to play rough, but that is what daddy's do. That is what boys do. They are rough. Doesn't mean he doesn't love me... I am just all mixed up and have so much anger at him.

My dad also did things such as "snake bites" but this is normal I think. It is something school kids do to each other or like what siblings may even do? I am not sure. He use to tickle me a lot and hold me down, pin me to where I was trapped and couldn't get up. I laughed because it tickled but I didn't always like it after awhile ya know? It got tiring... But I couldn't get up and he NEVER stopped when asked. That made him more excited and made him do it even more. It is like that with everything he does. He still does this with everything (whether it be something physical or just him being obnoxious and talking to me or poking me or talking during a movie. He knows I don't like it and does it because he finds it funny.) Like doesn't stop doing things I don't like even when asked. Eventually he will stop once I get furious with him but then he gets all hurt and offended and says how mean and terrible I am to him and how I must not love him like I used to... Then I feel bad...


(Entry 2)

**Memory: Possible trigger warning for physical child abuse**

I was maybe 7 or 8 or so when this happened... Maybe a year younger, perhaps a year older... It takes place at my grandma's house... How I loved that house and her!!! I was there everyday almost from birth until 13 or more...

*Background information: Just down the street from grandma's house was a a place called Ellis' Tenderloin. They served pretty much everything, it was like a burger joint... Grandma and I used to go there at least once a week. We would walk down together and get malts and a burger. It was our time together. We loved it♥. On the side of the building was a huge pig made out of plywood. It was Porky the Pig off of Loony Tunes. I LOVED that darn pig. Don't ask me why because I couldn't tell you. It just made me smile everytime we went there and I would always, without fail, comment to grandma about how much I LOVED that pig. It meant so much to me I can't even explain it. It is stupid I know. Children are facinated by the silliest things it seems...*

OK now back to the memory... I am with my dad in his Broncho and we are driving to grandma's house. We turn onto her street and I see the pig is gone. It is no where to be seen. My heart crumbles. I start hard core bawling. Sobbing and everything. My dad tell me to stop. I don't.

I remember being in grandma's living room and runnning to her bawling my eyes out. She holds me and sits with me in the rocking chair and rocks me. She asks me why I am crying... I manage to get out in between my hiccupy sobs "Our pig is gone." I start wailing again. She knows exactly what I mean. She just keeps rocking me... After awhile my dad gets pissed off that I am still crying... I don't know if he grabbed me out of the chair or if I followed him or what but next thing I know I am in the kitchen being taken onto the back porch... Dad grabs me and rips my pants off then my panties. I am completely bare. I know what is coming. I am cowared in the corner and really hysterical.... He takes his belt off (which is constructed of multiple tiny thin strips of leather that is woven together. Some of the strands are loose as it was a very old belt, they acted as 'mini whips'). He looks so mad at me right now... I am crying so hard... The kind of sobs that don't even sound like sobs. I can no longer stop them even if I want to... They are the hiccupy, involuntary, diaphragmatic spasms that cannot be controlled. Like a dry heave. Anyway, he says if I want to cry then he will give me something to cry about. He grabs me out of the corner and hits me across my bottom with the belt. He hits me again. Each time he hits me he is saying that as long as I am crying he will keep using the belt... At this point I am no longer crying over "our pig" I am crying over the excruciating pain that he is inflicting. I am hiccuping rather... He just isn't stopping. I am begging him in between breathless sobs to stop, trying to tell him that I'm not actually crying but rather hiccuping.. Oh my fucking gosh I tried so hard to please him and quit crying. I tried to quit those fucking hiccups. I couldn't... It hurt so bad I almost passed out...

I am not sure what caused him to stop. It goes fuzzy. It seemed like forever... I don't know if I just wore myself out from crying so hard or if he got tired or bored, or what. I just know I am lying on the porch shaking. I am looking around it hurts to move really. I feel like throwing up due to the spasms and the pain. I don't remember what happens after this...
Wait, I do remember grandma trying to soothe me and she said that I should have listened to daddy and stopped crying and he wouldn't have had to do "this", meaning the belt...

Why did I have to (re)remember this? I always wondered why when I watch Loony Tunes and Porky the Pig comes on my stomach get a tight feeling... I guess maybe this is why....


****There are quite a few other instances that come to mind when he hurt me, but he honestly didn't mean them as bad I don't think... I mean, he loves me... He truly does. I am just confused... In his defense, a lot of time I legitimately deserved to be punished. I think he sometimes went too far but I did deserve punishment... ****

Thank you for reading. Blessings. ♥