physically abused

Wow, I dont even know how to begin this....Our home was not a house of love. There were no words of encouragement, no compassion, no playful banter, no laughter. lots of tears. I was adopted sometime in the early 80's . Well actually We were adopted then.. we being myself and two of my biological sisters. I was six or seven. It was a very confusing time for me. Ididn't understand who these new people (my A Parents) were, and I didnt understand why I couldnt see my mom. I suffered and i think still suffer from an identity crisis because after living with them for about a year- and attending school they decided to change my name. So one day, i was in school and my name was Mary Jane, and the next, it was Christine. My A Mom would become enraged if anyone (other students) would call me mary. We were adopted because our biologial mother wasnt stable, not able to properly care for or protect us..i had been sexually abused. My adopted mother sat me down and told me that "only bad girls let boys touch them" at six years old i believed i was a whore. This woman told my youngest sister Angie that" You are bastards and God will never love you". Our abuse was physical, mental emotional...to this day each of us is lost within our own fears, unable to connect and be open..so much was stolen from us. How do you find joy in life when you are afraid to truly live?

As a toddler, I was diagnosed with ADHD and given Ritalin, which made me catatonic. After taking me to another doctor, my adopters learned that I was actually a precocious child who was desperately bored. It was recommended that I be placed in a school for gifted kids, but my adopters declined to do so. My female adopter revealed to me that she just wanted me to be "hers." She was also an animal hoader who kept cats, dogs, guinea pigs, and a pig inside the house as well as a hoader of objects that overwhelmed the 1-story ranch style house in which I grew up. The pet dander, excrement, and dust was suffocating and made it hard to breathe. I was often sick. My female adopter also told me that I was mixed-race: the child of a prostitute and a soldier. If I had stayed in Korea, then I too would've become a prositute. My male adopter beat me with belts, paddles, and his hands. I was raped when I was 16 years old, and my adopters didn't believe me and thought I was only trying to get attention. This situation drove me to a suicide attempt. I left this house at the age of 17 to go to college. (I studied hard throughout this abuse in order to escape my adopters and the racist town where I grew up.)

From July 1961 to September 1982 I was subjected to physical, emotional (told I could do nothing right, never received any kind of physical attention except for being hit, no hugs, kisses or pats on the back), was humiliated in front of friends and family, through denigration, yelling and belittiling. Was flashed by my mother. I was hit with bamboo, a wooden spoon, yardstick, a butcher kinfe (was not cut, but was spanked with it) and was accosted with a baseball bat.

from 1944 until 1959, the abuse i was subjected to included knife wounds, deep lacerations with wide plastic belt with attached metal buckle, attempted drownings, lock-up in rooms without food, water, toilet facilities or light, for days at a time, dragged by feet down stairwells, head hitting against cement basement walls, untrue accusations made toward me, to justify abuse, or to "explain" wounds.  

he molested me from the time I was 6 until 18 years old. He took me to his bed saying if I loved him I would have sex with him. Also when ever my mother was gone he would have sexual intercourse with me. When he was drunk he would come to my room. As I got older I would lock the door for my room, but he would have the key. My adoptive mother caught him and blamed me. So did her parents, they gave her and my father heck. Recently, now that I am 48, the molestation was brought up at the church through my brother. I was so mad, After I tried to jump off a bridge, now that the church knows my business. When I went up in 2005, I went to the church and noone even knew that they had a daughter, only my brother. Everytime my brother got, or gets in trouble it is my fault, I have always been the black sheep of the family. Now I am so pissed I want to sue my brother and my father. I also got hangers around my neck, missed my grade eight prom, because of my brother, didn't get to date in high school. Been with three men, one was gay, the second abused me too, and then my now husband and I have been married 21 years come Feb. 17, 2011.  

he molested me from the time I was 6 until 18 years old. He took me to his bed saying if I loved him I would have sex with him. Also when ever my mother was gone he would have sexual intercourse with me. When he was drunk he would come to my room. As I got older I would lock the door for my room, but he would have the key. My adoptive mother caught him and blamed me. So did her parents, they gave her and my father heck. Recently, now that I am 48, the molestation was brought up at the church through my brother. I was so mad, After I tried to jump off a bridge, now that the church knows my business. When I went up in 2005, I went to the church and noone even knew that they had a daughter, only my brother. Everytime my brother got, or gets in trouble it is my fault, I have always been the black sheep of the family. Now I am so pissed I want to sue my brother and my father. I also got hangers around my neck, missed my grade eight prom, because of my brother, didn't get to date in high school. Been with three men, one was gay, the second abused me too, and then my now husband and I have been married 21 years come Feb. 17, 2011.  

he molested me from the time I was 6 until 18 years old. He took me to his bed saying if I loved him I would have sex with him. Also when ever my mother was gone he would have sexual intercourse with me. When he was drunk he would come to my room. As I got older I would lock the door for my room, but he would have the key. My adoptive mother caught him and blamed me. So did her parents, they gave her and my father heck. Recently, now that I am 48, the molestation was brought up at the church through my brother. I was so mad, After I tried to jump off a bridge, now that the church knows my business. When I went up in 2005, I went to the church and noone even knew that they had a daughter, only my brother. Everytime my brother got, or gets in trouble it is my fault, I have always been the black sheep of the family. Now I am so pissed I want to sue my brother and my father. I also got hangers around my neck, missed my grade eight prom, because of my brother, didn't get to date in high school. Been with three men, one was gay, the second abused me too, and then my now husband and I have been married 21 years come Feb. 17, 2011.  

From as early as I can remember (approx 4-5yrs of age) I lived in fear of my adoptive mother. She was physically & emotionally abusive throughout my entire childhood through my teenage yrs. I was so afraid of her wrath, that anytime in her mere presence, I would try to make myself disappear or blend in with my surroundings to avoid her noticing me in the room. Out in public, all I could obsess about was doing something wrong & her beating the crap out of me & shaming me in front of people I knew. This was done more often than in front of strangers (which was easier to bear). I had very few close friends growing up. Most of my friendships were strictly at school because I couldn't bear to have my school friends knowing my shame & actually witnessing her hit me. I'd rather have died than live with knowing anyone from school seeing her get angry, start screaming mean hurtful things at me, then pulling down my pants, throwing me over her lap & spanking me. It was bad enough in front of strangers, but in front of people I knew was worse and so my childhood was very lonely. Although I prayed everyday for my birth mother to come & rescue me, the few times my adoptive mom threatened to sent me back, I actually would cry & beg her not to because I was (and still am) so afraid of being abandoned again. But so many nights were spent crying myself asleep just praying & begging for God to please let my real mother find me & love me forever. The 1st sexual encounter and very 1st penis I ever touched belonged to my adoptive father. Although he was my sexual molester, I found myself drawn to him to protect me from her. I'd rather endure his unwarranted touches & sex innuendos because he was nice to me & made me feel somewhat safe from her. My mortal fear of my adoptive mom made me closer to my sexual molesting adoptive dad and this has negatively affected every relationship I've ever had.

Sexual, physical and emotional

i dont know when the sexual abuse started but i have memories of it happenning when i was in a crib with bars as of my 2nd birthday i no longer slept in a crib.my adopted dad was my sexual abuser .it continued till he raped me at age 4 [the day the astronauts walked on the moon,] it was on tv as he raped me.before that it was molestation and he liked putting strange objects in my vagina like toothbrushes.the sexual abuse ended then till i was 8 and had weekend visitations without supervision he never made me bleed again,now it was my turn toplease him his favorite way was to make me give him a blow job.once i went to boarding school at age 10 i stopped seeing him in places wed be alone i only saw him in public places yet that didnt stop him from trying to touch me.

the emotional abuse and control trips that my adopted mother put me through started very early she admits to only feeding me when i was a baby if the alarm clock went off it didnt matter if i wasnt hungry shed force me and if i was hungry other times i wasnt allowed to eat shes rather proud of this.she had many food control trips as i grew up...putting me on diets at age 5 even though i was normal weight. having no food in the house was normal. my nanny[housekeeper]used to sneak me food.i was so hungry id find a head of lettuce and eat the whole head hiding under my bed boy was i beaten and raged at for that . the verbal abuse was constant too i was never good enough i was always fat i was told all my problems were because of my jewish blood in me[funny thing is not one iota of me is jewish except my first born and the adopted mom will not acknowledge her because shes jewish] another weird thing was the people i wanted to make friends with i was told were not good enough for me and the people she wanted me to make friends with[usually her friends kids]didnt want to be my friends ,,so i had no friends..and the control trips  continued.. when i was very very young i was not allowed to laugh or to cry or to run around and when i did.... ahh now for the physical abuse... shed hit my head with a wooden spoon shed carry it with her all the time to this day i dont have wooden spoons in my house shed also do what i call the windmill hitting shed be raging at me and her hands would be hitting me slapping me one after the other nonstop...one time she was so bad hitting me i locked myself in the bathroom  and she called the firemen to get me out..noone asked me why i locked myself in the bathroom and why my nose was bleeding and i had a black eye!! another time my arm was dislocated she blamed it on my dad but i remember who really yanked me that day..she used to tell me shed like to return me that shed gotten the wrong kid and once i was 10 i no longer had a home/bedroom/even a bed or closet in her home by 16 after adopted dad died she told me i was no longer her responsibility  since there was no more child support coming from him and since then ive had very little contact with her..he took my innocence away she took my childhood away sad thing is i actually bonded with her and grieve the fact she doesnt want me and never will

For my entire childhood I edured Beatings, food withheld, sexual abuse and verbal abuse.

Since I can remember, with my adoptive parents from the time of my adoption in March 1978, I was physically, verbally and emotionally abused. All I wanted was to love and be loved, but my adoptive parents were more concerned about their image and the embarrassment that I was bringing to them than my emotional well being. If I was myself, my adoptive dad would hit and threaten me to submission. He was a control maniac. Only he was allowed to express himself, be the smart, humorous and charming one. My adoptive mom adored her husband and saw me as a fake. They would act like victims and often tell me and my biological sister who was adopted with me that we were killing them. That terrified me and again he exerted his control over me. I am still terrified of my adoptive father now at the mature age of 36! That is why I live so far away from them as possible.

Physical until about age 12-13

Emotional from as far back as I can remember and still continues

Neglect

Time has made looking for closure and understanding very old... I am tired of reliving the life I have been subjected to... I would love to just move forward into a better future and leave the past in the past... This has become impossible due to the relentless obsession my adoptive father has with making my life a living hell. I feel that if I can locate my bio-family, I might finally be free of him and have some piece of mind... Until then, my life is spent doing the best I can to get by and waiting for the next surprise my adoptive father springs on me... I have taken comfort in writing poetry about my life with them.

My adoptive father sexually abused me from the age of 4 until 14 years old.  He continued to emotionally abuse me until shortly before his death in 1993. My adoptive mother not only failed to protect me after I told her about the abuse, but she also harshly criticized me as well.  Her inactions and neglect negatively affected me as much as her actions.  I was 26 when she took responsibility for her actions, but I still dont feel that she has fully recognized her role as the abuser or accomplice.

Having spent the first seven months of my life in the Infant Home, I would need to be placed with a family where the adults had the ability to patiently nurture me in order to bond.  You could not have picked a person more the opposite than my amother.  She could be that person in doses, but usually saved those doses for her bio kids.  For me she saved her hate and venom, telling me repeatedly from the time I was 4 or 5 that I was stupid, retarded, that I had my brains in my ass, and that she knew I didn't love her.  (She repeated the last one following my wedding.)  She hated that I was a tomboy and told me to grow up and act like a girl should. 

She wouldn't wait until I actually did something wrong to beat on me.  If she had a bad day, she would seek me out.  Punching, kicking, grabbing me by the neck, ripping out my hair, etc.  I didn't even have to say anything to get my face slapped out of the blue.  She would just say that I should wipe the look off my face.  There were times when my afather would stop speaking to me and looking at me for weeks and then explode and beat me in a fit of rage.  It seemed to happen periodically, at least once a year.  The last time was when I was 16. He tearfully apologized the next morning, and never beat me again.  I am still not sure what those incidents were about.

My amother was convinced I was going to become pregnant before graduating high school like my bmom.  She never said this outright, but controlled my every move (I had a 9 pm curfew until I was a senior in high school.  Then it was 10 pm.), who my friends could be, and my "sex" talk at 16 was if I got pregnant, I was not allowed to have an abortion, they would not raise the baby and that I would not be allowed to raise it in their house.  All the isolation, control, verbal and physical crap drove me to enlist in the Navy when I was 17 just to get away from her.  I knew if I stayed I would commit suicide just to escape her insults, her rages, and her control.  I had already tried several times by then.

From as early as I remember (before my adoption) I was subjected to emotional, psychological, verbal and physical abuse by my foster mom who later became my adopted mom.  Both parents drank alcohol daily and believed in corporal punishment. My father hit me also. But not nearly as bad as she did. And she constantly put me down, let me know I wasn't good enough.

My worst beating occured during the summer I was 13. My mother beat me with a board so badly that my backside was black & blue from top to bottom and side to side. I had difficulty sitting down for several days.  One friend saw the bruises, but I swore her to secrecy.  All she could say was, "Oh my God, Robin!" 

Police officers came to my junior high. They asked me if my parents hit me; did I had any bruises & could I show them.  Fortunately, I didn't have any bruises. "Fortunately".  Of course I denied that my parents hit me. I was scared to death that when my parents found out I'd 'really get it!'    

I got pregnant at 16 by the only boy I'd ever dated. My adopted mom told me I was a "tramp & a whore, just like your mother!"

Two days after my dad died, my mom disowned me by leaving a message on my voice mail.