There is absolutely nothing special about me….It’s about them

 

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You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself this question over the last five years. It has been day after day of questioning; ‘Trish, what in the hell makes you so damn special that you believe anything you have to say matters to anyone?”

I’m not anyone special at all. What have I done? I simply survived, studied, and personally worked through ten years of very challenging recovery processes to find out who I really am and then put myself back together into the person I wanted to represent and help others. Those years have not been easy, and many of the emotional challenges have been almost as difficult as the actual brutality I’ve managed to survive. This is what it takes though, nothing less; it absolutely has to be something you need to clean out of your system and recognize the broken pieces, then rebuild & repair what has been destroyed by the actions of others. Just because its very difficult however, does not mean it’s impossible. After all I’m still here and I’m still talking, still working it through challenge by challenge and so can you. There is nothing special about me.

Yes, what I went through was fierce, it was evil, it was outright brutal, but I know hundreds of others who have made it through these very same things. Some who I’ve helped to become marvelous advocates today and some who have helped me. This is how we manage to get through the tough days, simply helping and listening to each other.

Thank heaven for the internet and all that connects to bring our world so much closer together. Remember what it was like before; we were all struggling silently; wondering why and who in the world would ever believe what’s happened. It’s that simple.

Millions of people in every single generation have been the beaten, molested, raped, traded, used, and abandoned children. Millions of people in every generation have been the beaten down partners, wives or spouses of constantly unimaginable dominating persons who use their fists, their words, their financial power, their daily threats and desires to hold us down. The dominators who enforce (their way or no way) by means of constant terror, direct use of weapons, brutal violence beyond measure, rape, threats of death to control our silence and isolation; all of it to make certain there was never any prosecution for their crimes of harm and no one ever willing to believe how horrific the attacks were and all they had forced us to do during our entrapment. We lived through it without anyone to help us or encourage us to escape and help ourselves.

However, we can find our way to something better, something SAFE. We have all endured these monsters for different reasons, some for the welfare of shelter & support for our children, care for ourselves, for our survival. However, most importantly – if you are an adult, have the ability to work & support yourself, then you also have the ability to leave. You have the ability to simply walk out the door and never look back.

Yes, it is a damn hard choice to make because then you have to put your broken pieces back together again, but it is absolutely possible. It’s hard because you have to find a job to secure your life and (if you have children) you are now the primary provider for all of their needs. In today’s world that is not an easy thing to do and almost impossible if you haven’t had a chance to build a career, get an adequate education, or handle a checkbook, balance a budget; basically you have to be strong enough everyday to bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan, put dinner on the table, and before you can rest you, have to help with homework, bathe and tuck your children gently and reassuringly into bed. Each morning you have to wake up and do it all over again, but this is what we call LIFE; it is what is expected of us and it is damn difficult if your inner self is reeling from the previous trauma, fear, and pain you had to live through. Survival damn sure is not easy for anyone, no matter what kind of trauma, but for a silenced, terrorized, trafficked, and continuously raped child, survival can be almost impossible until we put ourselves back together again. 

I’ve been that broken disaster of a person, going through my breakdown and rebuilding myself while providing a home, food, shelter, and fun for three incredible children. I’ve done it not just once, but more like four or five different times. Suddenly having to run to save my life; leaving with absolutely nothing or being kicked out and having my children stolen from me. The key to my making it through is nothing spectacular, I simply never ever gave up. I just woke up, put myself together to face the day’s challenges, and then before walking out the door, staring in the mirror as I gave myself a pep talk…..

‘It’ll be alright Trish. You’ve survived this far, and you can do this. You have to do this. Get through today and then handle tomorrow’s problems tomorrow. Just smile and go take care of it. Girl you’ve done it before; today just might be a little bit better.’

This is how I managed to handle more than thirty years of insane murderous attacks all committed by one evil monster after another. The reason I went through so many men & three husbands, hellish violence, pain, and terror; this was my developed sense of normal. I was told almost daily from about age nine, I wasn’t worth having; there is not a single person who wants a whore for his wife, so the only thing I had was what my stepfather and all those different men did to me on a regular basis. It changed my thoughts about myself, destroyed any sense of self appreciation or respect; the only thing I would ever be was ‘Malcolm’s trained and terrorized whore’. This is all I ever knew and sadly, if they weren’t beating on me then they must not actually care about me. If they didn’t insist on this type of sex, or this type of perfection, this type of cooking and caring about meeting every single need they had; then they must not care one single bit and I must be doing everything wrong.

Yeah, this was my idea of normal life; each of my relationships built from degradation, control, and constant brutal beatings. It must be because I’m ugly, just like they always said. All of those who approached me for a relationship, all from ‘good standing’ families, but each time they started beating on me, it always involved smashing my face in the mirror and yelling at me because no matter how clean I was, how skinny I was, and how sexy I tried to be; the greatest problem of all was my scarred up  skin and my broken black holed rotted teeth. Hell, I still see this reflection in the mirror everyday.

It’s not like I can get complete plastic surgery of new skin, or spend $10,000.00 on a new smile. This is the part of me as a child, which my mother didn’t give a crap about, nor did she ever take me in for medical or dental care. To be quite honest she didn’t consider me to be anything except her housekeeper, cook, caregiver, and the child forced to play out the sick deviate behaviors of the man she chose to marry and stay with, regardless of what he ever did to me. This is the part of me my parents and the town of Freeburg all allowed to rot as it destroyed the outer beauty of a young prepubescent little girl.

I remember the times for school pictures or trying to impress a cute boy I like, this is when I squished up small pieces of bread to use as fillings for the black holes of my front teeth. Actually I hoped; perhaps my smile would look somewhat like everyone else’s, but it never did. Hell, not a single part of me to this very day looks like anyone else I’ve ever met, Sadly it’s just something I’ve always had to live with and try to cover up as I went through life. You should have seen the way people judged me, considered whether or not to hire me. Could they put someone who looked like me in direct contact with their customers or clients? Would people be shocked or sickened by the way I looked, regardless of how skilled or perfecting I was at my job, there would always be those glaring looks of disgust. It’s brings to surface the anger over how so many adults and small town kids all looked away and whispered about the little girl who couldn’t seem to find a single soul who gave a crap about what was happening to her each and every day. They all simply figured I wasn’t worth their time or concern; I was the 13 year old child tagged with the title ‘Village Whore’. Girls were not allowed to hang out with me and the local boys were not allowed to date me. I was nothing but HIS garbage child!!!

Yes its tragic, but its something I’ve had to accept. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have children stare at you like you’ve got a third eye; to have other women sit there and whisper about you as you tried to work with them; to never ever allow your husband or special someone to caress your legs or arms; to cringe away at their touch, afraid all anyone would ever see is the ugly destruction I am forced to carry with me every single moment of my life.  Yes it was hell, and it still is; even my grandchildren have rubbed my arms, questioning what happened. Hundreds of people have stared at me with that horrific shock on their face, especially when they see me smile.

This is a part of my life that no one else experiences. This is the part that hurts my heart and makes me wonder what the hell it was about me that no one ever cared to question the many years of filth, rot, and infection they watched destroy the outside body of a young girl. Today I think back about the many schoolmates and husbands of my mother’s friends, or coworkers from the mine; all those many who felt up, played with, or paid a few bucks to see just how far she would go, especially if  my constant threatening and brutal attacking ‘terrorist’ was right there to make sure I completed the ordered and paid for deed. The thrill he got talking about all the gory details of the many private parties he arranged with the local boys. All the vicious disregard in using the filthy, rotting, child as their toy to do with as they please anytime time they wished. None of my pain, sadness, fear ever mattered, it’s just what was my life and I simply had to live it; just hoping everyday I would somehow get away and they would never be in charge of what or how I did things ever again. This was my only goal, this was my dream and although it simply has to be an acceptance of the parts of me ALMOST destroyed.

I’m still here, I’m still alive, and I’m telling all the secrets.

The reasons that I discuss all of this is because I’m watching the ongoing emotional destruction which is hurting my daughters and messing up the safety of my grandchildren. I am sick to my stomach with worry and concern for their wellbeing, but not a single person seems to care. Not one person I’ve tried to beg for help, investigation, or even helping my daughters to help themselves and change the path for their children; no matter how loud I am or how obnoxious I have been with phone calls and emails, still no one is helping the lives of these children.

In truth there are over 3.5 million reports of child harm every year in our country alone.

Every day at least 1 in 9 children are suffering in sexual harm and possible secret trafficking by a person within their family.

Every day at least 1 in 3 children are suffering in physical harm, most of them are between the ages of 0 to 15 years old, both boys and girls, but suffering in an ongoing acceptance of family harm, which not even our government wants to get involved to truly help protect them.

It is our greatest human tragedy and something which will continue, like my life, my children’s lives, and now my grandchildren; this same generational pattern will also invade your family and grandchildren until we use our strength as a united human society to make our legislative leaders and law enforcement do their job; give the terrorized child victims the right to be SAFE which is written into our laws and in our Universal Human Rights. Crimes like these, the most evil and grievous harms against the youngest of our society; these are a terroristic control and brutal destruction which must be ended if we are to ever begin the change in respecting ALL human life as deserved. There is not one single human being any better than another. Not one child who is more worth saving than others. Not one community riddled with suffering that isn’t worth helping.

There must be a deterrent for these types of crimes. There must be a criminal prosecution and a sense of justice for all those generations of millions of destroyed and murdered children. There must be a way to balance our system and protect the given Civil & Human Rights to be protected as equal under the eyes of our laws. How can we continue to watch as our children, their children, and the next generation simply keep exploding in violence and brutalizing each other? What will it take for us to help these kids before it is too late and we have an entire generation once again left to suffer, left to be sold, traded, used, and beaten; left to be destroyed because our society is not yet ready to admit just how evil it can become within the sanctity of our home. We all see it everyday, the extreme bullying at school, the violence, the guns, the need to have power over others, and the gangs waiting to suck up the lost souls using them and selling them, beating them down however they wish, and then all of us stand around talking about; ‘Why in the hell can’t we do something to stop this? Dammit each of us can do something, we just have to take on the responsibility and do it!!!

I don’t know about you, but as being one of those forgotten rotting children, it absolutely disgusts me that so many powerful adults are only willing to do so much to help those abandoned and throw away children, but if it is a child in a home; rather than provide a way to get help, we all just turn away because it is the way it’s always been. I believe it’s time to change what we are used to accepting as our normal. I believe that if WE do not take on this responsibility, and all we do is talk about the outside dangers against us, then our children will grow up asking; ‘How in the hell could you just simply stand there and watch me die?”

If you are ready to do something, help out any service you can across the country and in your community. If you are ready to ask for a Federal Legislative Policy to get involved and end this vicious human destruction held secret and private within our homes, then help me and my two incredible partners (Ms Lisa Chilton & Ms. Dana Pfeiffer) as we try to get a voice heard for these types of terrorized victims, in the proposal of the;

‘Family Crimes and Terroristic Abuse Act’ – You each have the power to do something in your family circle, but also you can insist our government get involved when it comes to the extreme dangers that harm the most precious of our society, the victims without a way to escape or help themselves, the victims who are 15 years old or younger and completely dependent upon the adults around them and our society to make sure their right to be safe, and provided with a decent influence of life moving forward; we are here begging you to get involved and help us today to ensure that NOT ANOTHER SINGLE CHILD BE FORCED OR ABANDONED TO LIVE IN THESE TYPES OF TERRORISTIC HARM.

Thank you for every share you give this message, every signature you can rally on this petition, and most of all every discussion you can inspire to help our teens begin to see how they can protect the beauty of human life, rather than hate and destroy it.

Trish, Dana, Lisa

https://www.change.org/p/family-crimes-and-terroristic-abuse-act-amending-prosecution-amp-policy-provisions-in-crimes-of-family-related-exploitation-trafficking-extreme-acts-of-grievous-bodily-injury-threats-to-create-a-believed-sense-of-certain-death-terroristic-violence

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3 thoughts on “There is absolutely nothing special about me….It’s about them

  1. Hi Tricia! I was drawn to read your story and after I did I just wept for you and then it opened me up to look into my own heart and soul and take my own recovery to a whole new level. I too have written my story but it’s not published yet, still working up the courage for that step. Your journey humbles me and brings up such rage of the injustice you have endured. Please know that there are thousands of us awakening everyday and we have your back. Keep doing the extrodiary work you are doing and always, always remember you are loved always in all ways. Namaste!

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