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
I HAD TO LET HIM BE GOD, HE WAS THE WINNER & SO I HAD TO BE THE LOOSER,
IT MADE HIM FEEL BETTER ABOUT HIMSELF, WHILE MUMMY WATCHED, SHE LIKED HIM TAKING CONTROL OF ME,
SHE LIKED HIM TO SHOW AUTHORITY AND BECAUSE TO THE OUTSIDE WORLD HE WAS A RETARDED PRICK -THAT SCHOOL-BOYS LOVED TO BULLY, HE HAD TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME
I COULD DO AND HAVE NOTHING UNLESS HE HAD IT 1ST.
MY ADOPTRESS AND SON = BUNCH OF TWISTED ASSHOLES
Physical until about age 12-13
Emotional from as far back as I can remember and still continues
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.
Slapping, Punching, Violent Shaking, Hair-pulling, Ear-pulling, Kicking, Throwing, Hitting with various objects (stick, belt, wooden spoon, hot curling iron, fly-swatter) from age 3 to age 19
Threatened with knife, threaten to be beaten until "the blood comes out," among other verbal threats from age 3 to age 17
Humiliation, degradation, physical and verbal abuse in public; referred to as having "emotional problems," told that I was just like my birth mother while speaking ill of her. age 3 to age 34
Sexual abuse by older foster child #1, attempted rape by older foster child #2 (when I was around age 10). Blamed for it when I talked about it at 19.
Controlled social interactions, friends had to be kids from our church or a similar church, not allowed to join activities such as Girls Scounts. Forced to play piano in church; not allowed to play classical music, only religious music. Television was strictly censored to programs adopters liked, as was music.
Constant verbal abuse by both aparents. Physical abuse by afather until 14. Afather would put us in dangerous situations (example: line us up and shoot at us with live ammo, told to hold still). Afather set my play house on fire (with me in it) when I was five (he needed the insurance money). A passerby saw the fire and got me out. Afather was not happy. I cut all ties with aparents when I was 19.