Adopted - Abused

I was adopted in the 60's. Born in a small clinic in the midwest.
I was adopted at birth by two people from the appalchians, it was hell from day 1.
When I cried I was smacked, my mother said I cried on purpose, trying to get attention. I was an ill baby , allergic to milk and my tummy always hurt , always throwing up. This didnt sit well with my mother, her remedy was to give me more to what ever I was allergic too.
My earliest memory was her holding me on her lap and restraining me, forcing me to eat, if i fell asleep during my feeding I was rudely shaken awake. I have scars on my face where she has pinched my cheeks to hold food in my mouth so I wouldnt spit it out.
My toddler years consisted of being thron out of the crib onto the floor busting out my teeth and giving me two black eyes, my leg was broken because my mom said I fell off the bed, I was always being chased, hit or force fed.
AS I became older, I was always told I was ugly, and I acted stupid. I was tied up by my ankles to a bed post and stripped of my pants and under garments, my mom then sat across the small of my back so I couldnt reach around to stop her from beating my butt with a shoe heel, a thick wooden paddle this all the while stuffing my dads tube socks in my mouth so I couldnt scream. This beating would go on until her fury drained out of her and I was left bleeding through my bruses. Before any type of beating she would walk through the house closing windows so the neighbors wouldnt hear.
She stood me in a corner naked and flipped me with rubber bands, put my feet in a frying pan on the stove. Made me eat dish soap and whenever i had chapped lips she would put hot pepper sauce on them.
When she was potty training me, she would make me sit on the toliet for hours. During summer vacation she would get me up, feed me breakfast and then make me stand in the corner until it was time to go to bed that night , usually standing 13 hours or more a day.
She beat me ( along with my father) on my female private parts with a paddle or a paint stirrer, and when it was bruised, she would remark...." look , your pee-pee is wearing lipstick." She then would apply muscle rub to my genitalia. This happened more than once.

I think she was posining me, I had sores all over my body, my tongue always had red bumps and my nails had white spots on them. I was always very sick to my stomach, but I was never allowed to rest, I had to stand in that corner very ill. Sickness was a sign of weakness.
She didnt like it when I had to go to the hospital. She took me out and brought me home. She would wrap me up in bed sheets with an peroxide or alcohol solution with all of those open sores on my body, it hurt so bad!! then she stood me in front of the window air unit. She would make me stand there for hours. I would freeze and shake.
At night when I was sleeping, she would come in and scream at me that I wasnt sleeping in my bed correctly and then she would grab me by the hair and throw me to the ground. I wasnt allowed to have friends and I couldnt play with my toys, I either stood in the corner all day or sat in the corner of my room.

I was tested at school and they wanted to put me in a gifted class and she told them no. So when I got home after school, she would take away my books and not let me do homework, so I would flunk out. See? she said, your not so smart.
She made me clean the bathroom with my tongue, she wrapped me up in my dads thermal shits and tied my hands behind my back like a straight jacket. She made me eat a whole cake and a bottle of ketchup.
She would make me stand and make faces at myself in the mirror. She would send me to my room to cry and when I stopped she would come in with a belt,extension cord. She was also known to punch me in the stomach.
I had a horrible life, I was always afraid, afraid to sleep, afraid to speak. And my dad would just go along with it.
I still suffer.

I went through 38 foster homes after this, it was just as bad.

Visual, verbal, spiritual, emotional and physical abuse and neglect.

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 1982 - 1998 My sisters and I were beaten with leather belts that would leave bloody welts, swung around by our hair like ragdolls, stabbed with pencils when trying to do homework. We were reminded every day of our "worthlessness" . We were constantly told that our AP'S(adopted parents) wished they had never adopted us- they should have adopted the Asian kids; because they wanted a boy. We were told that we were bastards born in sin, and that God would never love a bastard... My sisters and I had to live this duality; going to church and having to sing Jesus loves me in front of the entire congregation; knowing that God didn't love us(according to holy mona). My Amom was a nun in the Catholic church before she met and married my Adad.. These people were educated with college degrees and outwardly seemed to be pillars of society.  My Amom was pure EVIL, and my Adad was a passive abuser, who knew what was happening, and that it was wrong but he never did anything to help or stop the abuse.... you can't put a band-aid on a severed limb....!  These people were mentally,emotionally,physically, and spiritually abusive. We were denied medical care/treatment/therapy, were beat almost every day, told we were trash and not worthy of god or life. We were never hugged, kissed, or given any positive praise or kind words of encouragement.

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.  

Abuse i was subjected to:  from 1945-1959: verbal and physical abuse including:  lock-up in confined areas, without food or bathroom for 1 day to 10 days at a time, lashings with wide plastic belt, laserations with knives, right eye split in half, scalding water baths after lacerations when merthiolate would be poured on open wounds until i would loose conscienceness, strangulations until loss of conscienceness, thrown down stairwells, stomped, kicked, head knocked into cement basement walls, etc.. also attempted drownings while at summer home on lake chetek, wisconsin.

  I was sexually and verbally abused by my alcoholic afather on a day- to- day basis. It started when I was about four or five years old. It continued throughout my childhood, and into my early teens until I was strong enough to get away from him. However, he continued to grab at my breast whenever he was near me,  until I was finally able to move out after I graduated.

 At first, my afather would touch me all over. Then he would grab my hand to touch him. It got much worse as time went on. At night time, when I was asleep, he would come in and I would be awaken by his hands touching me and much worse. My amother saw and knew what he was doing to me and my sister, and did nothing to stop it. In fact, she told me never to tell anyone. She said if I told, They would not take him away, they would take me away and, I would end up some place worse. I was young and afraid of what a worse place might be like. I was also afraid of my amother, so I said nothing to anyone.

 My amother was physically abusive to me. She didn't blame me for what my afather was doing to me, but she hated me because of it. I can never remember a time where she hugged or kissed me, but I can remember her anger and violence towards me. I was always getting hit, slapped, kicked, and she loved to grab my hair and pull it out. It went on like this until I was about 13 years old.

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.

I was 9 at the time. Dad was so angry from losing his job that he became physically abusive. He was bruising my little brother so badly that Mom had to compress his back and make up stories to tell the teachers. He blackened my eye just swinging to hit anything. I lived in a family of Ostriches. When things go wrong, bury your head in the sand, “don’t air your dirty laundry”. Mom also became afraid of Dad and wanted to leave him but said that she signed a contract to adopt us and would honor that and keep the family together. Mom didn't protect us, and got to where she was leaving every summer to go see her sister. She would take my little sister with her and leave me at home to cook for Dad, work, and deal with the guys. It was like HELL!

At 10, I had to get a job to pay the bills, so I started to babysit for a family. My first remembered sexual abuser, the father of the kids I babysat. David started touching me when I was 12. I wanted to quit my job but feared the wrath of my father. I knew if I didn’t have this job making $56 a week, we would be forced to move from our house. So when I was offered an extra $20 to stay for an hour, I didn’t say no. I let him touch me and make me touch him, and then gave the money to Dad. This continued until I was 15 and David wanted more. I was finally brave enough to quit my job, but I had another job lined up and was never without a job.The summer I turned 15 my big brother raped me. He said since we weren’t blood related, it was okay to have sex. Well, not in my books!! I told Mom that I wouldn't go anyplace with him again, but was afraid to say why. I thought that Dad would call me a liar and blame me, he was always partial to the big Bro. For the next few years, he would wander into my bedroom drunk and want to do me, but I wouldn't allow it. It broke my heart and to this day, I get a sick feeling when I have to talk to him.I moved out of the house on my 18^th birthday to live with friends. A couple months later, my Aunt came through town and invited me to live with her. After the first few days of sleeping on her couch, my Uncle woke me up saying he was horny. He said it was okay to have sex because we were not blood related. NOT AGAIN! I kept him off me for a month, then needed a ride. He drove me to a corn field and raped me. I moved to my cousins house to get away, but he had a key and came back for seconds. I went after him with a butcher knife and that is the last time I saw him. He died a couple years ago. I'm also sure he touched me when I was much younger, but the memories are sketchy.

From the time I turned 4, my a parents had their own kids.  At that point in time,. I became known as "that thing" "garbage" and "the trash".  their kids could do nothing wrong, and I could do nothing right.  I grew up thinking I was different than everyone else, and not as good. There was something wrong with me.   I was slapped, called names, kicked, banished, made to wait on their children, and my a mother taught my sisters to hate me and pick on me.  My sister would break things, and call "mommy" and say "See what she did"  She would then stand to the side and watch while I got a beating for it.     Anything I ever had was taken away. I got to when I even heard the word family, my stomach would knot up, and I would be so full of hate.    My first suicide attempt was in 6th grade.  My story is told in more detail on facebook, under the discussion post at "You know you're an adoptee when"   I have two chapters of a book and two poems posted there by Throwaway Johnson

Sexual, physical and emotional