♥ Carboard Testimony ♥

That above is the front of my carboard testimony. It is me left to my own past and devices.

 

And this is the back. It is me with Christ's healing and grace in my life. ♥



Porcupine No Longer

Ashamed and frozen in fear, time stops.
Pretending to be asleep; staying very still...
Lying and waiting, pretending it's all just a dream.
NO! Get up! I have to do something! SCREAM!
*Silence*... I don't make a sound. No one can know. Ashamed!
Eyes now scrunched up tight and fists form into balls.
Go into my mind. Pretend I am a porcupine.
Can't touch me! Can't touch me! I am a porcupine!
Doesn't work...
Porcupine's quills have been plucked clean away! Exposed.
Body is a map whose lands have been plundered before.
Monster's fingers are legs, walking the map, exploring it all.
Monster is greedy: taking what is not his to take.
Too scary. So scary. Can't be happening.
Dumb, wretched girl.
Pretend. Pretend. Pretend. Smile. I'm alright.
Tomorrow I'll pretend I don't remember what happened at night.           

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. ♥

I am a Survivor of.....

I have Survived:

Covert/emotional inc*st and 'inappropriateness' by my dad. He poisoned me against my mom but I don't think he meant to...
There was some physical abuse as a child (corporal punishment gone-too-far) but not too much of it.

My grandma and aunts (dad's mom and sisters) only further enabled by dad to continue the dysfunction and they poisoned my mind against my mom through their thoughts and manipulation; this pushed me even closer to my dad because I felt bad for him and felt such intense love for him... I was on his side and I felt it was my duty to take on his burdens and his sexual problems and all of that insane crazy stuff no child should be put under... And in all of this happening, it caused me to be even more enmeshed with him so he could use me even more for his needs. It's like they all groomed me. Almost like programming in a loose sense of the word. I don't know. The screwed up part is, none of this was on purpose to hurt me. I am not even sure they knew they were hurting me... Dysfunction runs so deep.

Domestic Abuse: physical, mental, verbal, emotional, spiritual, and sexual abuse (1 count of an*l r*pe and multiple v*ginal r*pes) by him. Ages 17-19. He was a sadist. It was torturous.

Acquaintance d*gital (finger) r*pe by my ex boyfriend's "best friend" while I was drunk. It happened 12/29/11. He is no longer friends with him though. (Still have yet to blog about this one however.) I was 20.

Acquaintance d*gital (finger) r*pe by my dad's best friend while I was drunk. It happened 09/22/12. He is still friends with him even though he knows what happened. He blames me... (Still have yet to blog about this one too.)

Verbal and emotional abuse by grandfather from infancy/toddlerhood to 11 or 12 years old (Although I do not remember as far back as infancy, I am sure that it more than likely occurred because I was in that environment while my grandma watched me as a child. And as far as I know, my grandpa has always been verbally and emotionally abusive.)

Precription drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and marijuana abuse: pills and marijuana started when I was 15 or 16 (clean from pills since 16 or 17), slipped up on the marijuana a several months ago, other than that stopped using, alcohol started when I was 14 or 15, I drink still but not heavily like I used to although I am currently working on my drinking as well.

Self injury starting at the age of 13, I still use this method of coping unfortunately.

ED (Eating disorder), binging and purging, started in middle school. I still struggle with this sometimes but very rarely.

A "suicide attempt" by ODing on a mixture of various prescription pills and a lot of whiskey. (This is what prodded me to get help and get clean. It was against my will though but looking back I am glad I was forced to go.) I say "suicide attempt" because it was not to exactly kill myself... I wanted to get high, forget, just cease feeling and being. The thought, "If I take this many pills and drink this much, I could very easily die... Hell, I am OK with that." I almost felt like it was a perk.

I have been diagnosed with ADHD since I was 9. I have depression, anxiety, PTSD and some OCD tendencies. I also dissociate a lot. 

Part 2 of My Story: Domestic Abuse

C was my first everything. I was very naive and innocent in some ways. I trusted him. He was so cunning and he told me everything that I wanted to hear. I believed him. Who knows maybe he did love me at the time in his own sick and warped way... It doesn't really matter. It was perfect for the first 4-6 months I'd say. I had fallen in love with him and he knew it.

He started to get really controlling though. I didn't pay any mind to it though because I loved him so much. After awhile the controlling just became progressively worse. He would tell me what I can and cannot say or do or think or dress and if I didn't do these to his liking he would ridicule me. It got to the point where he would bring up my childhood and would throw it in my face. Like it was my fault. He said I was a screw up from a sick and f*cked up family. He would throw my dad into the equation just a bunch of sh*t he shouldn't throw at my face. (You don't do that to someone who has been hurt. Hell, you don't do it to anyone... You just don't. Inside all people is an inner child. Some are happy some are sad and scared. You don't bring up one's childhood to use it against them especially when it is painful. That child (my inner child) was so afraid and hurt by what he did. [If this makes no sense I am sorry. It is all true though]). That hurt sooo bad I can't even explain. I was just scum. Then he would turn around and awhile later apologize and beg for forgiveness and for me not to leave. He swore he would change. And he did, for awhile, sometimes for a couple weeks sometimes for a month or so. He would be the guy I had fallen in love with. It would be like nothing had changed. I stayed for those moments. I put blinders on I think. I was in such denial. I kept telling myself it wasn't that bad.

It went from verbal and mental abuse to physical. He would grab me and throw me into walls or pin me on the bed or wherever he wanted to really. He would drag me by my hair. I think the one time I really thought, "Sh*t, I should have left. I am going to die. He is going to kill me..." was when he had me pinned on the floor and had his hands wrapped around my throat. He was choking me and I couldn't breathe. I started to blackout and he must have realized what he was doing because he jumped up and was wigging out asking for me to forgive him. I just stayed lying there on the floor. I was in total shock. If I said I wouldn't forgive him or retaliated at all the abuse would resume so saying "Yes C I forgive you" was the best option. There were other physical things but you get the picture. I think he liked the control. It was all about control. He had a narcissistic personality and he was very manipulative.

I would have taken the physical stuff over the verbal or mental abuse any day though. I mean, none of it was fun but the verbal and mental abuse really took its toll. He would tell me things like I wasn't really that pretty and that I was too wide in the hips, then I was skinny, too skinny, then I was beautiful. "Wow Chantel, you are a f*cking stupid sh*t for thinking you are ugly. Don't you know you are gorgeous?" he would say. He would constantly play mind games. It got to the point where I was walking on egg shells around him because I was so scared of what would set him off. It could be a slight smile at the wrong time or a shirt I was wearing he didin't think fit his mood.

I honestly cannot explain the way he manipulated my mind. He would tell me something and then if I didn't listen to what he told me I would "pay". It was so confusing because once I listened to what it was he wanted to tell me or convince me of, he would turn around and say that I was making it all up and that he would NEVER have said that... I would argue and say, "Yes, you JUST told me this." Well, arguing made him mad and then it just made it all worse in some way or another. So, I started to believe that he really didn't tell me that and that I actually WAS just making it all up. He convinced me I was crazy. The threats, physical pain and abuse, emotional/mental/spiritual abuse and mind control (almost like brainwashing), and sexual violence (more r*pes than I care to think about) and then the loving nature and wonderful treatment after the abuses and the confusion it brought on really all just contributed to making me feel insane. Literally. This cycle of telling me something or doing something to me and then convincing me that he didn't do it (or that I was just misconstruing the details and exaggerating what did happen into something it was not) was not just a one or two time thing. It happened multiple times in a day sometimes; followed by him acting loving and nice towards me and him saying that I was crazy for thinking he didn't love me or for thinking that he was EVER bad to me. How could I think he was bad to me? Was I nuts? I must indeed be nuts for thinking such a thing... OR instead of him showing love after these mind-invasions he would coerce me into believing him by physical abuse or intimidation. It made me go into a dissociative state. Everything got really foggy and I kind of just spaced out... I never knew what to expect with him. He kept me guessing. I was always on the defensive. It was terrorizing but I learned to sort of "blank out" while it was happening. And the sick part was was that I ACTUALLY believed it was MY fault he did these things and that I did something to cause him to do all of this. I think deep down I knew but I just so badly wanted it to be normal and alright?...

((((Sorry if you don't agree with it... I know it is gray area r*pe... If it even is r*pe. I was told by some people I know that are survivors of SA and DV that this is r*pe because similar things happened to them but my best friend said this was just sex and it is not r*pe because sometimes her hubby wants sex and she dosen't really want to but she does anyway... The difference is, her hubby didn't abuse her into compliance like C did with me... I felt almost coerced... I don't know I can't explain it... Sorry. Maybe it wasn't r*pe... Now I just feel dirty and sick.))))

About the r*pes... I just recently realized that they were even r*pe. You see, it would usually start out with a barrage of verbal, emotional, and mental attacks and then the physical stuff. Usually I would be mad and I would even sometimes fight back a little but that didn't end up well. Long story short, after he was done roughing me up a bit he wanted to day he was sorry and wanted to have sex... I obviously didn't want to have sex with him. For one, I was p*ssed at him for the things he said and did and I would feel in pain depending what he had done to me... BUT, I never really resisted. I just thought, "it's my duty do have sex with him..." he knew I didn't want to. My body language and facial expressions told that I was NOT into it... And, sometimes I even groaned and sighed to tell him I wasn't interested... I honestly was kind of scared to straight up say 'no' because I didn't want him to be super mad at me again and scream and berate me and push me around... I guess I just 'spaced out' while we were having sex. I know he knew I didn't want to. I mean, what person honestly would want to have sex after having done to them what he did? He could tell that 'I wasn't fully present' during sex and could have stopped to ask me what was wrong or if I was ok. I can't imagine how he wouldn't have noticed... I just think he didn't care. He didn't care enough to not hurt me in every other way why would he care if I wasn't really enjoying the sex like he was?

He knew how to twist his words to make you think sh*t smelt like roses. He was one way in front of people, calm, collected, nice, and loving towards me. Once we got in closed door the facade came down and he was his real self. He got me to believe that it was my fault. I honestly believed I did everything to cause this. If I just hadn't of said that or worn this or looked at him that way he wouldn't have had a reason to do what he did. It was my fault. It IS my fault.

I was brainwashed. It was like a spell I was under I swear. Once I was gone and away from him for a few months I saw how wrong it was and how toxic it all was. I hadn't been eating. I was down to 95 lbs because I was so nervous all the time. I still am little but not that little.

*******TRIGGER WARNING*******
C also r*ped me. An*lly. Uuuugh. ***Details*** We were fooling around and were getting ready to have sex. He asked me if I wanted to do an*l. (We had tried to once before and I didn't really like it and I just didn't want to do it at this time)... So, I said, "No not this time either, someday I will do it with you but I just want to have regular sex."
So, we start having sex. He was behind me. He pulled out for a second or two and I was confused and then he just shoved it inside of me pretty much dry without any lubrication at all. I screamed. It hurt so bad. I couldn't breathe very easily due to the pain. I managed to ask why he did that. He said he accidentally "slipped". So after it was over I went to the bathroom. There was blood. For like a week after there was blood. *******END DETAILS*******

Sorry, I am embarrassed.. Maybe I shouldn't have shared this part... But, it is part of my story... I don't think anyone will be understand this or what I went through or why I did the things I did and stayed if they haven't been in it themselves... I still am fearful I will be judged for acting the way I did and for staying... for that, maybe I did deserve what happened because I was stupid enough to stay because I was so controlled and warped... When he r*ped me I would go into a dissociative state so I didn't really do anything about it... I just freakin' laid there... Sigh *sobs*

Never Be the Same

Feeling at a loss for words

Needing to speak the words that lack.

Wanting to be free like the birds

Flying away and never looking back.

Flying back in time before the tears

Happy and without a care.

Seeing she is now a hollow shell of fears

Breaks her heart beyond repair.

Screaming just to hear her voice

Lets her know she is still alive.

Healing is her only real choice

To do this she must take a dive.

Remorse

Remorse

I loved you so much; we were all hurt so bad.

If you're reading this you might think I'm mad.

You hurt me, I hurt you, mean and harsh words were never few;

Everything was always so misconstrued.

As I'm lying here writing and thinking about what I saw,

Also I am thinking that it was partially my fault.

And I'm sorry for that; really I am.

Sometimes this feels like an awful scam.

I don't know, maybe it was all me.

Maybe I caused all of this pain and tension that won't cease.

It's just it was always so fucked up, every minute of every day.

It was such a bad feeling that never has gone away.

You didn't know how to show it; how to make it work.

And I am admitting that I was a jerk.

Sometimes this makes me crazy; it makes me want to scream!

So I am going to try and let go and tell you what I mean.

Right now I am going to tell you what I am feeling.

It's hard because I know that what I am about to do you probably won't.

I'm going to make amends here and now.

It's no joke.

Again I'll say it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I love and forgive you; I really do.

Didn't Have a Chance

This confusion will not cease,

You've broken me in many ways.

Will I ever get any peace?

Have you got nothing at all to say?

Did you think you were doing right by me?

Did I even matter to you at all?

I was just your scapegoat to sanity,

It didn't matter if it caused me to fall.

You took my heart for your own gain.

You altered it in a cruel and sick way.

Why can't it be you who feels this pain?

Why must it be I who has to pay?

Do you know how damaged I feel inside?

Can't you see my dirtiness now?

This is why I have to hide,

Continuing with you this unnatural vow.

You took advantage of my mind and age.

You played the victim well for me.

Don't you know you forced me into an unseen cage?

How was it that everything you did you could not see?

Part 1 of My Story: Covert/Emotional Incest

*Below are entries that I have taken out of my journal regarding the topic of covert incest. I have had to revise some of the entries so they will make sense for readers. Thus they will sound a bit choppy, but readable I hope. Also, you can see how over the time span of these entries takes place, my mindset changes.* 

*Entry 1* (Written in late 2011 or early 2012)

My dad never really neglected me I don't think. In fact, we have always had a great relationship actually (although recently we have more of a strained relationship). He was a great dad. He just shared things with me that I should never have had to know about at such a young age. He, along with his mother and sisters, poisoned me against my mom by telling me things she did to him (a lot of manipulation and emotional hurt) and what she didn't do for him (sexual things; along with other things that I won't get into... too painful).

Everything they had been telling me about my mom made total sense to me and I didn't even really question it. I saw how awful she was to my dad and I saw his pain. So when he disclosed to me during our alone time how hurt she made him feel, it just 'clicked' for me. It seemed like the total truth to me. Had I of not seen 'proof' of her hurtful ways, I may not have so easily believed them, but I saw with my own eyes what my mom did. I heard the things she said to my dad and the look on his face after she said them crushed me.

You see, my dad was my best friend. He was my pal. I loved him with an intensity that can not be put into words. I was in love with him. He had made me into his emotional lover. He replaced my mom with me and I took on her role as wife in all ways except physically sexual.

I used to think, "How can she hurt him like that?! How can she do this to the one thing I love the most!!!?"
It filled me with such an extreme sense of emotional pain that I felt it physically. And then he would tell me what she did and it just cemented in my mind even more how awful she was. I 'hated' her. I was too young to sort out what was and wasn't true or even to think for myself that maybe I should listen to my mom's side of the story. I took everything my dad told me as total truth.

The things my dad told me that my mom did were excruciatingly painful to hear (even as an adult, let alone child of 10, 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.

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. I had to protect him! He was my pal remember? I loved him and had to protect him at all costs. That was my job! My duty! I forgot to mention this but as far back as I can remember, my dad's mother and sisters always told me, "You have to protect your daddy. You have to take care of him. He hurts so bad inside. Your mom... what a woman..." and things along those lines. So, I HAD to protect him did I not?)

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... 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). 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 funniest thing was? During times when I was being horrific to my mom; my dad would always ask, "Why do you you treat your mom like this? Why are you so hateful? What is wrong with you?".
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?! 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... Hmmmm. Odd.

I feel in a way like a chess piece, being played to their advantage (even though that isn't what they wanted). For years the damage accrued and pain was just too much to bear and numerous ways of 'coping' started to develop:

Age 13 - Self-injury (SI) (cutting, burning, preventing wounds from healing) I still use this method of coping although not as often as I used to.
Age 14 - Mild ED (eating disorder - anorexia/bullimia)
Age 14/15 - Drinking (little did I know the long and painful road this would take me down)
Age 15/16 - Use of marijuana and prescription medication

This all went on until I was about 16 or so when I almost killed myself. I OD'd on a handful or more of various prescription pills (uppers and downers and I don't even know what else) and drank around a pint of whiskey. At the time I weighed 85-90 lbs soaking wet. I am very lucky. God obviously had/has a purpose for me. I fell away from God for a really long time during these dark times. It wasn't until recently (last 3 or 4 months) that I started going back to church and rekindling my relationship with God.

Anyway, my parents found out about what happened and made an emergency appointment with my T (therapist) at the time. So here we are, my parents and I, in my T's office. Me sitting on her couch and trying my hardest to just wait them all out and not say a word because I did NOT want to be there with my parents and I did NOT want to talk about what had happened. But my T (who knew all about what my dad and his family had been doing with/to me) said, "Chantel, is there anything you would like to share with your parents? Perhaps the reason behind your OD?"

I was floored. I just stared at her; mouth open and jaw dropped down to my knees... I shook my head and pleaded with my eyes for her to shut up. She didn't. And of course by this time my parents were very interested and wouldn't leave it alone... So, I pretty much had to tell...
I don't remember how I started it but the next thing I know I am sobbing, hard. I couldn't even stand up. My mom was crying too. It all finally made sense. My dad was just sitting there looking at the ground. You could tell he felt awful. He said he had no idea how much this had bothered me. He didn't know he was hurting me. Hurting my mom. He said how sorry he was. Also upon reading some resources on this type of abuse it says the adult usually does not know what they are doing is wrong. It is usually something that has spanned over gnerations and is a a "learned way of coping/acting". It is a cycle that has to be stopped. I am stopping it!

After this session, he more or less stopped I suppose. Occasionally he will bring up some stuff about the past. Or I will. And I will just get so damn angry. I have been so angry lately. All of this stuff along with my r*pes has been gnawing at me. It is all starting to resurface. I still have a lot of resentment towards my mom but now I have a lot towards my dad too. I treat them like total shit. I just haven't been able to be nice to them. And they have no idea why and tell me they have never done anything to deserve it...

P.S. — Actually my parents are really very wonderful parents to me and I have mixed emotions with putting this on here because they are NOT bad people at all. They are wonderful people. They have made mistakes but who hasn't? I sure as hell have. But I still have this resentment towards the situation. Towards them.

I am not going to go into the specific things my dad told me to cause me to hate (I like the word "dislike" better now) my mom. They are too terrible. And it was only based on his THOUGHTS. What he thought was the reason my mom did and acted the way he did. And although I have to admit to myself that I believe him I still cannot be sure without asking my mom her side of the story. I just cannot ask her if the things are true because then she would know that I am thinking these things about her. I do not know. It is all so confusing having these conflicting thoughts and emotions towards both parents….

What I guess I want to say is that I do not want everybody on here to think that my parents are terrible people because they aren't. They didn't mean to do what they did to me. They love me so much and would never aim to hurt me intentionally I don't think. I just wanted to get this part of my history off of my chest.


The sexual part(s) will come later and this part has no relevance whatsoever to that aspect of my life. Thank you all for listening and understanding without being judgmental.
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*Entry 2* (Written in November 2012)

Covert/emotional incest is actually very common in this age we live in. It is somewhat taboo and not widely talked about. I hope this changes and there is an awareness of it and its damaging effects.

I did in a way feel like an "emotional lover" to my dad. Like a therapist, or a best bud to him. What makes this all so much more confusing to me is that my dad and I have always been close. We have done EVERYTHING together since before I can even remember. We went hunting together (something I haven’t been able to do since his best friend r*ped me, but I’ll get into that later). We planted the fields together. I was attached to his leg and wanted to go EVERYWHERE with him. And the things we did do together I loved so much. In fact, even when he was telling me all of this stuff during these bonding times, I didn’t know it was bad. I wasn’t mad at him at all. I felt special and loved. I think that may have led him to think that since we were best buds he could talk to me about these things. I am not sure why he did it. I wouldn't ever do that to my children (if I had any) but I also know the pain it causes too though.

So, as I said earlier, my dad no longer does this anymore but I still feel the effects of it. The only other time is about a year ago when he was so depressed (I almost felt he was suicidal). He was sad because I blew up on him over nothing. (I am very mean to my parents. I don't want to be but I have so much rage and anger. I get mad and scream at them for nothing. Sometimes just talking to them I will scream and cuss at them I know it is awful. I am currently working on it.) He ran outside because he didn't want me to see him cry and I followed. He was smacking himself and hitting himself on the head. I ran over and hugged him and he started sobbing. I felt like I was transported all the way back to when I was little. He started saying things that my mom did and why he was so unhappy. I felt so bad for him because he is so unhappy. I still feel a sense of responsibility to help him and protect him. I got him calmed down. He went inside and I stayed outside and went to my car and lost it. I thought about suicide. I called my boyfriend at the time and told him I was sorry but I was going to do something stupid and that I loved him. He rushed out to my house and stayed with me. By this time Dad was normal and we were a big happy family...

I can see how everything he has done to me can be a type of sexual abuse in a way but have a hard time comprehending it because I was not "touched" but rather forced to listen and have adult conversations with my father about his sexual needs and wants. That does seem like sexual abuse to me. But on the other hand it is hard for me to accept it as sexual abuse because he didn't mean to do it and loves me so much. He had no intentions of hurting me. So, my T and I have decided on calling it ‘inappropriateness’ and ‘boundary issues’.  And I think that I am comfortable with that since I know he wasn't doing this stuff with sexual intent. I still feel weird though because it is just so weird.. *Ugh*

I know when I tell people this they always look at me like, “No one touched you so it couldn't have been that damaging.”

Well, it was. I just don't know what to think... Sexual abuse or not. I looked up non-touching sexual abuse and what all of the resources said was, "making a child watch or listen to sexual intercourse", "making a child watch or make pornography", “making a child look at one’s genitals (flashing), talking to a child in a sexual manner or about sexual content.”

I was told sexual things about my dad's sexual life (or lack thereof) and at a young age just so he could get emotional gratification and possibly even sexual validation (validate/cement his manhood)... I still don't know if this would be considered CSA... the non-contact kind of course...

I remember him asking, “Why does your mom not like to touch me? Am I undesirable and unsexy? Is something wrong with me? A man needs to be loved and touched…”

I was so hurt inside and felt such pain for him, so I said, “No dad you are fine. There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know why she won’t touch you. You are not undesirable you are sexy.” (I am pretty sure I said he was sexy, but I can’t be sure… Still, I feel so awful for even replying… Or put in the position where I had to reply…

It's like if he heard it from me, that he had nothing wrong with him and that he was still sexy, then his manhood was still intact because he had validation.
In his defense, I don’t know if he asked me these things directly for an answer… But was maybe rather just talking to himself and I didn’t understand that they were rhetorical questions so I answered him…
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*Entry 3* (written in January 2013 till currently)

I have been VERY confused over what my dad did and whether it was or was not sexual abuse... Well, I am not going so far as to say that it was because I am still not 100% sure about anything yet. I have been so screwed up... It has gotten so much worse for my mind since I have moved back with my parents... Anyway, I was doing some research and found a sight that had some definitions and examples that matched what happened to me.. (http://www.isatcenter.org/factoids.htm) All of the bulleted content below is from this site. The ones in red are those that apply to me and I then have written 'how' they apply to me. Thank you all for your support. Any comments or hugs or anything appreciated.

Types of Sexual Abuse

• Sexually touching the child. *(Possibly) Dad pretended he would touch (or maybe he even did touch, I can't rememebr) my undeveloped breasts as a child and preadolescent. He touched my bottom (even to this day despite my asking him to stop). But he really only means it as a silly and playful game. He also would pinch the tendon right next to my genitals. It is the tendon on the inside of your leg that is in your femoral area and goes into your groin I think. It was unbearably ticklish... I would be laughing hysterically because it tickled but trying to get away because it hurt. He was dangerously close to my genitals; like a couple centimeters away... But I still don't think he was doing this as a weird or perverted thing. But, at the same time, if some random person who didn't know my dad saw this happening, they might get the wrong idea...*
• Someone having the child touch them sexually.
• Photographing the child for sexual purposes.
• Sexualized talk. *Dad talked to me about his sexual life (or lack of) with my mom and told me how he was not getting satisfied by my her... He asked what was wrong with him and if he was just not desirable... Perhaps this was rhetorical but I answered him... I told him he was desirable and that there was nothing wrong with him...*
• Showing the child pornographic materials or making them available to the child.
• Making fun of or ridiculing the child's physical development. *As a child and even to this day he made fun of my small breasts and bottom...*
• Exposing his or her genitals to the child for sexual gratification.
• Masturbating or otherwise being sexual in front of the child.
• Voyeurism.
• Forcing overly rigid rules on dress or overly revealing dress.
• Stripping to hit, spank, or getting sexual excitement out of hitting. *Dad would sometimes take my pants and panties off when he would use the belt on my bare bottom and sometimes legs. I don't think he did it for sexual gain however but I don't see why he would have to have me take off my panties... Pants are enough I would think?*
• Verbal and emotional abuse of a sexual nature. *This was a BIG one in my childhood. He and his family told me from a young age that I was to protect and be there for daddy. I was to be his emotional scapegoat more or less. The pain this caused me... I can't explain the heartbreak. It kills me. Over and over again.*
• Engaging the child in prostitution.
• Witnessing others being sexually abused.

How Can You Determine if the Behavior is Inappropriate?

• Treating you different from other kids
• Wanting to spend time alone with you, making excuses to go places or have others leave. *My dad always was wanting to do things together but I BEGGED him to. We were two peas in a pod. I loved him soooo much. Almost in an unnatural way. But I don't think he wanted me alone for sexual reasons. He DID use it to 'dump' on me though. I hated it but didn't even ever think he was in the wrong.*
• Asking you to do things that involve physical contact (ex. backrubs, massaging you, and/or wanting to help you wash)
• Attempting to touch private areas of your body, bruising against you, rubbing their body against yours. *My dad attempted to (and maybe even did, I can't remember for sure) touch my breasts and touches my body and tickled me close to my genitals but I honestly think he was just playing and was ignorant and not aware that he was being inappropriate? He wouldn't do that to me... I can't believe he would... But at the same time it is so weird*
• Putting lotion or ointment on you when you can do it yourself.
• Not respecting your privacy and entering the bathroom or your bedroom while your showering or dressing. *My dad barges in my room without knocking sometimes. Usually when he isn't thinking or when under the influence. He sometimes knocks though. I would say it is 50:50. And he doesn't do it to see anything I don't think. He isn't aware what I am doing. There have been times when it is bad timing and I am undressing. But it was not on purpose.*
• Asking questions of a sexual nature or accusing you of sexual behavior.
• Showing you pornographic material and calling it sex education.
• Making sexual comments about your body and how you dress. *My dad makes comments that are ridiculing to my body and sometimes they give me the creeps, "Wowie!!! Look at those whoppers!!!!" in relation to my breasts because they are really very small. Although admittedly I sometimes bring attention to them and say, "I have such big boobs.." in a joking and sarcastic manner, it is different when I do it... But most of the time he is in the same room so he chimes in too. I can't blame him on this one. I bring that part on myself... If I am honest sometimes I say that on purpose so he WILL say what he does and then I feel nasty... WHY would I do that? I am disgusting... I never realized I did this until now.*
• Talking to you about their sexual experiences, walking around naked or inappropriately dressed. *He told me all about his lack of sexual life when I was young and how he wished he would be sexually satisfied and how a man needs to feel that and on and on. I was maybe 10. So, I guess it wasn't that bad after all. It still REALLY bothered and affected me even though it shouldn't have. I feel so used and dirty.*
• Telling you private information about their partner. *He told me EVERYTHING bad about my mom and so did his family. They turned me against her... I thought I hated her. Even now that I know what they did there is this deep down and buried deep, resentment and animosity toward her. I hate it but it is how I feel. I am ruined now because of it. And she blames me and resents me for feeling this way and is mean to me sometimes because of how I feel toward her... I hate myself.*
• Telling you that you are special or different, being mean and/or giving you special privileges in order to get you to cooperate. *A few times I told him I didn't want or like hearing what he was telling me and he said that I was the only one who related to him and that he loved me so much. I was like his other half. He said I was the only one who understood what he said and what we talked about or shared... I didn't feel I had a choice. I was sooo stupid. I couldn't say anything though because it was my duty and purpose to protect him. I even lied to my mom and told her I did a lot of the things he did and I covered for him even if it got me in trouble. My happiness didn't matter to me. It wasn't my purpose. He was. I was so sick. I even feel sick sometimes when he touches me and hugs me... Not always only sometimes... So I never know when to expect my nasty feelings and thoughts about him. How I hate this.*
• Limiting your contact with others and friends and asking you to keep their behavior secret.
• Treating you like a partner rather than a child. *I was his surrogate wife in so many ways. I was his emotional lover. I always used to think that he never physically sexually abused me. That it was only the emotional sexual abuse... Now I am not even sure about that... I just know how sick and disgusting I feel inside of myself. I want to throw up... I want to SI... I want. I want. I want...*

Now, I don't know if he ever did any of this for literal sexual gain or gratification but I know he did it for emotional gain and for validation of his manhood (sexual validation). I have been having people tell me that whatever his intentions were, whether they he meant to sexually abuse me (I can't see him doing this knowingly) or not, doesn't matter really. What he did was still wrong and he should have known. I mean, if his intentions weren't bad then why would he have to have done those things? You can play with and tickle children in places that are nowhere near their genitals. I know that I would never tickle a child that close to their genitals because I wouldn't want it to be able to be misconstrued as something it is not, plus it doesn't seem appropriate to me. I have also been told by many users on here that what matters is how I feel and that I have been hurt... A parent may spank their child and lose control and end up hurting them badly but they didn't mean to. Their initial intention wasn't to hurt their child, but that doesn't mean that they didn't hurt the child. It is still physical abuse whether they meant it or not. I think this may be how it is for me... But I am not sure. I know I have been told numerous times that I shouldn't need to label it but I just feel I need to label it... I don't know why... I wish it wasn't all so gray. I feel that if he had just not been a nice dad and loving it would be easier to feel upset at what he did... If he had just been more overt I could know for sure and not constantly doubt and question whether it was "real abuse" or unintentional and therefore justified by his ignorance... I am STILL confused though... Oh well.