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To Hell and Back.... A Survivor's Story Of Hope And Healing

The Hell....

I stand in awe at the simple fact that I am ALIVE today and here able to share my story with others who have endured some of the same adversities in life. I would like to share my story and in doing that I hope to offer hope and healing to those who have lost the flicker of light burning within them. I am a 22-year-old female who has truly been through hell and back. I was born to drug-addicted parents who were in a satanic cult. As a result I was placed into the foster care system. By the time I was five years old, I was already in five foster homes and had already lost my precious innocence through sexual abuse and multiple beatings. At six years old I was placed in a home where I would be adopted. At first I thought this home was paradise. I had a mom for the first time that truly loved me and cared for me. She held me and gave me all the love and nurture a child needs. Going into that home, I already had all the baggage left by the trauma I had endured and as a result I needed a lot of help. Sometime during that year, I told my mom what one of my foster parents had done to me. She was so loving and caring. I remember she just held me and cried. I ended up testifying against that family which was pretty scary for a six year old. To be on the stand having to point to the perpetrators who hurt me, having them look straight in my eyes. In the end though, that family was put into jail and I was put into therapy. For the next year in a half things were getting to be "normal" for me...except for a little secret that I had hidden in me. My adoptive dad started to sexually abuse me. I wasn't scared or anything. I didn't think it was bad because he wasn't violent like my old foster parents. He was gentle and never was mean to me. He told me that this was our little secret. I never told my mom and to this day...I somehow regret that. Shortly after my 7th birthday, my life took a spin for the worst. My family was in an automobile accident that put us all in the hospital and left my mother dead. That changed my life. For the next five years, my life was lived in Hell!! My father became a monster and I was the brunt of his furious rage. Instead of the "gentle" abuse that I received, he began to rape me, beat me and shatter my heart. No longer was my home safe. There were constant beatings, a new set of rules I had to obey: 1. No talking unless spoken to 2. No going into the refrigerator 3. No going outside I would get raped or beaten at any moment without warning. My life was now about survival. I never knew what to expect from him when he came home from work. Sometimes he was "nice" only to find in the end that he was going to violate me. In my house there were two kinds of abuse. There was the "nice" abuse that was gentle and the way my father showed me his love. Then there was the violent, degrading abuse that left me powerless. I had to learn at an early age how to receive the "nice" abuse. Either way I was left damaged. Over the years I grew up in the shame of a household that was full of sexual perversion and loneliness. My only safe haven was school. There I could use my charm to receive the love and attention that I so desperately needed. I was smart and high functioning for my age. I was a fast learner and always managed to become the teacher's pet. I wasn't allowed friends and didn't even know how to make friends. I was known as the "bully". I used my anger to beat up on other boys and girls. I also imitated the abuse at school being sexual provocative towards other boys and girls. Over the years, the violence grew so immense. Sometimes I was put into hospitals for burns, concussions, and various injuries. I never told on my father. I can't believe they never suspected anything. On of my greatest escapes during the trauma was to "fly" away from my body. I used my skill of not feeling the abuse as a power tool. I didn't feel and sometimes that made my father even more furious. I could go away to any place. Sometimes I would float on the ceiling and look down and watch. I had an extraordinary tolerance for pain. When I was nine I started to get sexually abuse by my two uncles and my fathers' friend. My father would let them hurt me. But in a strange way, it wasn't as bad as when my father hurt me. Especially my one uncle. He was so kind to me. He bought me gifts and would hold me on his lap. That to my childlike mind was worth the sex he would demand. The same year I was thrown out of my school for telling another classmate that about the abuse. My father was furious. Nobody would think of such a man hurting his daughter because he was a well respected man who lost his wife and adopted 4 children. How noble he was. I didn't talk much about my other three siblings. I guess it's so long and painful. I do have three other siblings who suffered the pain by the hands of my father. We were all just kids. Looking for a way to survive. In a house filled with sex and violence, we didn't know where to find solace. My father would often make us perform sexual acts upon each other. So growing up we had a hard time developing a normal relationship with each other.

Silence Ended.......

At age eleven, I finally told!! My family had gone on a vacation to Florida and I was so excited. My dream was to go to Disneyworld. Instead it was a nightmare. I was more like a sex slave. I can't believe Iím alive. I can't even say the things that happened to me but it certainly brought me to a place of WANTING OUT! When we got back I told my guidance counselor. For once I was believed. I told her everything! I cried, she cried. She held me and told me it was okay. I was deeply afraid of my father's threats. It was a long and draining day for me. I had to talk with numerous detectives and police officers, sharing my story over and over again. Each time more afraid. Finally at the end of the day I was off to another world...The world of foster care, To be protected. Or so that is what I thought.

To Hell and Back
No Place To Call Home
The Light
Closing Thoughts