May I please ask for just a few moments of your time to read this message & view the short two minute attached video? Any consideration is hugely appreciated. http://youtu.be/0Rpt_oHU5NM
My name is Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight and I am reaching out to find an organization or person who will help me continue the healing journey forward.
Why I am contacting you….
There are many thousands of survivors of past abuses & violence speaking up today about the horrors of their past. In our society it seems we have become almost numb, trained into tolerating a certain level of these attacks within our homes. Today, I am trying to break this silent barrier!! Myself and many other advocates work online and in our communities constantly helping those who’ve been harmed to find their way out of the cloud of madness and finally find their own path in life, letting go of the pain to soar into their future. So now, I am contacting any and all who have the power to create change in our society. You have this power and you can encourage many others to stand with the survivors, rather than blame the victims. We were children left by the tolerated generational acceptance to these acts, but we no longer have to teach our children this tolerance. We can change how these crimes are looked at & prosecuted today. We can change their future by empowering them with voice. Erin’s Law has paved the doorway for us to teach our children about sexual abuse, but are we teaching them? Are we teaching them to speak up no matter who is harming them; even if it’s their parents. As most of us well know, these acts are most often done within the walls of our own homes. The families don’t want the embarrassment of the public’s knowledge so they put on the best front possible to the outside world, but when the door to our home is closed, then only the victims know how dark the evil can become.
You see, my family didn’t put up any kind of false front at all in our rural community, there was no perfect family life on the outside of our home. It was simply that my stepfather and his vicious temper were so well known that my mother got away with placing herself as a victim, but I know that she was never harmed by this man. Instead she gave him her oldest daughter, the child she had with her second husband and the one she used as a house slave, a family caregiver, the family whore.
A bit of my history; I grew up in Freeburg, Illinois, which used to be a small town American coal mining community. My time spent there was most of my youth from about 1969-1983. I know during these times things were much different than they are today, but not that much has changed in our rural areas, nor our cities when it comes to abuse & violence within our homes.
Sadly, I was the child a town forgot, a town dismissed, a town ignored and today I carry the emotional wounds & the physical scars because of the fear of my stepfather’s evil. At the age of five he first viciously molested me while my mother was at her bridal shower preparing to marry him just a few weeks later. This attack was done while he was babysitting my brother and two other neighbor boys. He enjoyed that he could be evil with an audience to watch and it just got worse from that moment forward.
At the age of nine my mother walked in early from work and found him in bed with me; completely naked with his erection ready to be inserted. At eleven he began offering me out to other local men at the town’s bars for the price of a couple of beers. I was just twelve years old when he brutally raped me with the barrel of his favorite shotgun, my younger sister & older brother were downstairs watching their favorite television show. By the time I was thirteen the people of Freeburg didn’t see a child being sold out, brutally attacked, ignored & neglected from all forms of medical care & human kindness; they saw the girl who was used to excite their husbands, too well informed about sex for her age. In short, the reputation I had at this very young age was simply put as, ‘The village whore’ and this reputation would stay with me throughout my teens.
My mother would not protect me from him, although she knew exactly what was happening. She wouldn’t stop him from trapping her child in the bathroom every time I tried to bathe. He used his ugly games to teach me how to wash the right parts of my body; this started right after they were married. Mother also refused ANY & ALL forms of medical care or basic human needs, even human kindness for her own daughter was something she just couldn’t allow herself to do. She used her daughter as her housekeeper, babysitter, family caregiver, cook and willingly sacrificed her daughter so that she would not have to tolerate the sadistic needs of the man she chose as a husband.
By the time I reached thirteen, I had already taken my own small step at protecting myself when I chose to stop bathing, sounds disgusting I know. From the age of twelve when he wouldn’t leave the bathroom and mother wouldn’t chase him out as she sat downstairs hearing me shout out for her help; this is when I took that horrible choice and never bathed again for almost FIVE YEARS. Think about this please, just for a moment, a young girl beginning her periods, growing through puberty, used as a house slave, given as property, sold to local men for their enticement & wandering hands; even her own family still see her today as HIS WHORE and not the child who needed rescued from their evil cruelty. The small town of Freeburg left me to grow in this hell; filthy, rotting, and disgusting.
I attended Carl L. Barton Elementary school at the early stages of his evil attacks, which haunted me in the bed I shared with my much younger sister. His almost nightly visits were predatory and his thick coal stained hand clamped tight around my mouth to prevent so much as a whimper from seeping out. The next day at school my homework was never completed and the teacher’s would berate and belittle me, calling me stupid, lazy; making a point to direct attention my way. They were disgusted by the child whose skin was rotting away; encrusted filth covered my skin, my teeth plaque covered and broken black fangs dangling in my mouth. Almost everyone avoided physical contact in fear of catching whatever was eating away at my flesh. You’ll see a brief video attached above which shows the scars from the infection that covered almost every inch of my skin. My breath was rancid, my body horrifying and with an order as bad as the breath from my mouth. Simply put, I carried every single sign of wicked abuse, neglect, disgusting hygiene, a reputation that was built from being traded out; the local daughters were not permitted to hang out with me and the sons were not allowed to date me. I was garbage and EVERYONE in our small American town knew who to call when I did something wrong, they knew who the parent’s of this rotting whorish child were, but not ONE SINGLE PERSON ever asked so much as a question about my well being. Not one single teacher ever said a word, not one single adult man who attended the late night parties at our house for years ever said a word about the girl they used and then discarded; not one young school mate who came to the house parties filled with marijuana & alcohol, accepting the forced oral sex and handed this filthy girl as a toy ever said a word when they saw me in school the next day. It seemed all those years not one single person, not family, not neighbors, not even our local law enforcement or the many who came for the fun; I MATTERED TO NO ONE and THEY LEFT ME TO ROT IN THE HOUSE OF HORRORS.
The life I lived when I left my childhood, was one filled with self destruction; lost, confused, alcohol & marijuana addition, then into more than 20 years of almost deadly relationship/domestic violence. My three beautiful children born to my first husband had no choice but to grow in the shadow of a broken abused mother. They hid in the closets as my second husband violently beat me and on more than one occasion almost killed me. This evil of violence & abuse which took the voice of the little girl so long ago, then invaded my children’s lives and it took me until their mid teens to finally break away and slowly build a broken, but safe, existence for them and for me.
Today, people have referred to me as a ‘Hero’, ‘Conqueror over Abuse’, and even a ‘Freedom Fighter’, however I’m just simply doing what is now deeply engrained in my soul. I, along with co-founder Michal Madison, are presently building a nonprofit organization to help provide knowledge, understanding, and help for families, victims, survivors & communities who have been harmed or are dealing with some form of abuse; Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery the website Steps to Recovery, along with the community outreach broadcast of Butterfly Dreams Talk Radio, which has built a huge social following and reached over 30,000 listeners is turning into a great success – bringing awareness, enlightenment, empowerment, support, hope & faith for the many millions of survivors & advocates around the world.
This was a chance to empower healthcare professionals to take every opportunity to question the safety of everyone who visits their offices; they may not get a second chance to save a life or rescue a victim. Coming up next, on the 19th of Sept., I am giving a two hour training presentation at the Victims Rights Annual Conference in Bay City, Michigan; invited personally by the Prosecuting Attorneys Association of Michigan.
Thankfully, by the grace of Creator, I am alive today to share hope & help for the many who are still living trapped in the silence of these crimes. I’ve published my memoir of hell, in the story ‘My Justice’, built an incredible talk radio program, and am now moving forward with building the official nonprofit status for Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Talk Radio Programming. I am here to encourage others to stand up and say something, protect the children within our families, within our neighbor’s homes, and never let another child be so ignored by a community that they are left to rot in the evil within their home.
Thank you for any time you have given this message and plea for your attention. I’m grateful to be able to speak up and help others know their life after abuse is possible. I am grateful that I have finally found love; I am finally safe, and although I carry the physical & emotional wounds, although I carry the ugly scars & broken teeth; I am still alive!! I am building dreams in hopes that one day we can end this tolerance and begin teaching the true value of our children’s lives. They are not simply objects to be used, beaten, raped, sold and stolen away. We can inspire hope & help together, connecting hearts & holding hands around the world.
Patricia A. McKnight
Exec. Director: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Talk Radio Programming
Educational & Empowerment Speaker
Survivor & Emotional Health Abuse Recovery Research
Survivors World online support group
**Believe all things are possible with you in the active equation** ~trish mcknight
art designs by: Michal Madison, Watercolor Artist for the Abused
©Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery 2012