What if you realized how powerful you really are?

As you go about your day…..remember how much every voice, every story, every painful journey walked is giving to help change the future for our human race as a whole. It is a huge honor to have made our friendships, empowered each others day, and shared our knowledge so that no one is ever abandoned without hope or help. We all deserve to have our voices shared, if only finally breaking the silence and changing the cycle for those in our immediate circle of friends and family. We all hold the power to give a hug of hope because those who have suffered know exactly the value and greatness in every human being. Respect ❤ ❤ ❤

‘JUDGING EYES’

“What if they say something to me,” she wonders. “What am I supposed to do if they ask me about the bruises or the filth growing on my skin? If they tell anyone he’ll kill me, but I need someone to help me. I am just a little girl who wants to have friends to play with and have quiet when I do my homework, but most of all I just wish I could take a bath again.” This little girl standing so brave is screaming inside, “Please help me, but be careful what you do or say, he will hunt me down; he will kill me!!”

One of the first pieces of writing I ever shared online. Hope it still shares as much power as it did way back then; strength, courage, wisdom

Inspiring new ideas, changing old perceptions, and empowering daily recovery for men, women and children dealing with some form of past or present abuse, violence or trafficking; ending the cycle of what has become
Common Human Behaviors & Our Greatest Human Tragedy

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

http://www.facebook.com/triciagirl62

**Always believe anything is possible with you in the active equation of life ** trish 🙂

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com/uploads/Whatif.jpg

 

Are you a reality thinker?

 

Good Morning

Let me first ask, Who enjoys #BillMaher?

Alright world, especially Americans – How much longer will we continue tolerating certain ‘SPECIAL’ human beings to direct what is or is not a – HUMAN CHOICE OF LIFE – or a harming action AGAINST another HUMAN BEING, (which is also a human choice)? Who are these people so righteous and perfect that they are deciding what is a more serious issue to be addressed in our society?

It is #Vote2016 – America you now get to choose what issues are important and who do you trust enough to uphold your wishes. Of course we have to allow the reality that you cannot make everyone happy all the time. (Isn’t this what we have always been told?)

Today we have a human society filled with intelligent reality thinking and tolerating human beings;

HOWEVER…..

  • If you enjoy inhaling smoke from a cigarette or a joint – YOU ARE CONDEMNED!! You are either imprisoned for one of these actions or society just turns away from you commenting how bad you smell.
  • If you don’t get married but choose to live with your Life’s Love
  • If you choose a #SameSex Spouse
  • If you choose to live thinking outside of the box, more tolerating of a Human Choice in life rather than in man’s written interpretation of God’s Laws or our centuries old way of life….

In all of the above sentences, which are basic human choice in a person’s individual life and how they choose to enjoy their time here on Earth; in all of these choices you are demeaned, condemned in either our #CriminalJustice or in our #Church. If you choose any of these you are ostracized and cut out of our daily acceptable way of life.

Permit me to add here; regardless of how much good you share toward another human being, regardless of the kindness and gentle nature you live to inspire in others, regardless of how much good you share with the world – you are not living in our acceptable perceptions of life.

HOWEVER CONTINUED…….

You can make a choice to REPEATEDLY (day after day, year after year, generation after generation); you teach tolerance and acceptance in repeatedly causing extreme harm to children, spouse, partner; ruling your home in brute force and terror, and NEVER be punished or considered a Bad Person

Do you think if person’s as young as sixteen years old; those who are permitted to work, pay taxes, drive – if these person’s were allowed to have a say in how we determine what is and isn’t a priority issue right now – if they could have a say, would it still be considered the same and would it be a topic our #Politicians will make an agenda for their platform?

You know my writing in horrible now in the running sentences and questions, but I am just absolutely stunned everyday about the dark actions and harm that exists inside our homes, hurts our youth and causes more destruction to a human being than any other disease known to mankind, but repeatedly for five years I’ve seen this issue dismissed in Social Media, Television, News Headlines.

Our youth aren’t really directed to believe that they have written guaranteed inalienable rights to be SAFE. We don’t teach them they can & will be protected under our laws and have their offenders prosecuted for the harm against them. We teach them to prosecute the Coach, Priest, Minister, Neighbor, Stranger who hurts them or someone else they know, but we do everything we can to dismiss a #FamilyOffender.

We force them to carry decades of horror, painful, demeaning, and life destructive memories which trigger drug addictions, criminal or violent behavior, even might affect their being a child predator or harming their own children. The studies & research is published to justify how healthy patterns of thinking and human choice are destroyed and in fact frontal lobe brain impairment is the result of even one incident of trauma. Who they were before the harm is forever gone. Regardless of what happens it seems rarely, only after decades of healing; does the survivor get strong enough to bring forth charges, but tragically most (87%) are NEVER prosecuted or held accountable for their disgusting and grievous choice against persons who may be too young to even understand what is happening to them at all. It simply becomes a daily, yearly, life taught pattern of being beaten, degraded, traded, sold, used and destroyed.

Our neighbors dismiss it, our schools dismiss it, our laws dismiss it – at least for the 2.5 Million registered reports of harm that never receive an investigation and those six others on top of that who will absolutely never reveal to anyone just exactly what types of Human Violations they were taught to accept in their life every single day.

This is absolutely the most cruel part of our human nature. We have been programmed century after century, generation after generation, that any of these types of actions against your own children are tolerable, so long as we teach them through fear, threats, silence, and ignorance of their pain – NEVER TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE UGLY PARTS.

Will it ever really change? Is there anything at all that our society will ever do besides attend trainings, update how we think about mental illness and trauma, how our law enforcement handles a volatile family offender and just how bad does it have to be before someone will even talk to the child at all about what’s happening or if they’re being hurt?

HOWEVER……

  1. We have 1 in 5 Adult Americans with Mental Illness
  2. We have 1 in 4 homes living in some type of violence or sexual predatory behavior
  3. We have 1 in 3 children being Sexually harmed every single day (I’ve got the research to back this up, find it on the Child Maltreatment Page of this blog)
  4. We have 85% of prisoners affected by some form of childhood or #FamilyCrime
  5. We have 87% of drug and alcohol addictions connected to some form of #FamilyCrime
  6. We have study after study, generation after generation, human being after human being who is living a life altering, self destructive, violent, and suicidal perceptions because of some type of #FamilyCrime

At some point this has to be unacceptable, punished, and held accountable for the inability to financially provide for, and protect the healthy safe life for our children. I absolutely will never understand our society’s choice to consider, ‘Oh well, we are doing our best. It’s what’s always happened. They will get over it’

Readers, I do not understand why we cannot work harder, united in efforts to ensure the education of guaranteed inalienable rights of ALL children. There is no human being better than another. There is no human being not worthy of help. There is no human being that has permission by Man’s Law or God’s Law to harm another human being, but we continue to tell our children it does not matter inside your home and family; ‘Laws are different there; my parental/guardian right to cause grievous injury or sexual harm is my choice. You just have to shut up, deal with it, and if you ever tell anyone else what’s happening in our home, I WILL KILL YOU!!!’

If you tell

Are you ready to make a change for them? Are you sick of this acceptance in these horrific actions?

We are a human society that constantly stands up for #LGBTRights ; #AnimalRights ; #ReligiousRights ; and every other issue, but those very young kids out there (especially those too young to support themselves, too young to defend themselves, too abandoned in the absolute control and responsibility of their parents.

I BELIEVE IN FAMILY TOGETHERNESS. I BELIEVE IN HEALTHY FAMILY DYNAMICS. It will never be perfect and we will never be able to help every child or person who is left to live in this mess. It will take a few generations before we actually see a positive outcome as human beings.

HOWEVER……

You have the power to change it beginning RIGHT NOW!! You can sign our #Petition requesting a #Federal review and update of our policies and prosecutions across the country in how we deal with this type of criminal and humanly destructive choice against those who are the very continuing existence of mankind and our world as a whole. You have the power to make a choice in what you start practicing inside your family. How you teach your children to interact and live accepting, rather than harming, of others. You have the power to determine if they will live searching for a drug to ease their turmoil and inner nightmares. You have the power to determine if they learn to be violent or kind. It is up to every adult to protect and be some type of positive influence on the children they choose to bring into this world.

HELP US MAKE A CHANGE AND DIRECT THE ISSUE FOR OUR HUMAN RIGHT TO BE SAFE!!! ‘Free from harm and free from the fear of harm’ Universal Declaration Of Human Rights

SIGN BELOW –

‘Family Crimes Act’ –

Petition for a Federal Review & Update of Policy & Prosecution

The below video is educational, informative, and empowering

It is also

shocking, disturbing, and graphic

https://youtu.be/QaexoCNqhcM

 

Producer/Toastmaster Ms. Rebecca Kimbel interviews

Author/Advocate/Mentor/Researcher/Survivor

Patricia A. McKnight

Thank you for reading, watching, and hopefully you signed because here in Illinois; this proposal has been discussed for over a year, put in front of House Representative, States Attorney, Congressman, U.S. Attorney, Assistant Attorney General Office – All of these person’s have stated what an amazing collection of research, justification, and remarkable outline of statistics in Crimes Against Children,

HOWEVER……

‘We can not address this topic at this time, but we appreciate and respect your work, your mission, and one day we just might be able to address this topic. You keep going and keep up all the work you’re doing. It really does matter, we just don’t have the budget to allow us to address this right now’

Be Well, Live Strong, Fly Free and teach your children to LIVE!!!

My Justice – Patricia A. McKnight : AuthorHouse

My Justice – Patricia A. McKnight : AuthorHouse.

Get your copy of ‪#‎MyJustice‬ thru most online resources. Your story may not be the one to make it big, but consider why your writing it in the first place. I’m amazed at the hundreds who have changed their lives, found courage to seek help and speak up. This true horrible story sadly still impacts my grandchildren’s lives. It’s not about making it big, it’s about making it end!

Honestly I’m quite stunned by the way this story has made it so far. College courses, outstanding five star reviews, and absolutely incredible press articles shared across the country. From New York to Australia, to the U.K. and in the San Francisco Journal. Even more important for me are all those persons who read this and then passed it on to someone still lost in the pain and silence. Find your voice, share your story, it will touch someone’s heart somewhere. xoxoxo Trish

The flannel pajamas– the warrior armor

youarenotalone    reflection   MyJustice

Dear Readers,

Every time I’m asked to speak at an event, I can’t help but be overwhelmed and triggered, so then I’m usually inspired to write. However the topic isn’t always pleasant. As with most of my writings this may be stressful for some to read, but if we do not challenge ourselves we can never move forward. This is part of my childhood memories and I hope it will empower and inspire you to become active in helping us update old laws and policies so that we can tell the children in America, that we are putting forth every possible protective measure to ensure that you will grow to believe in the protections; believe in your inalienable and fundamental RIGHT TO BE SAFE, to live free from harm and free from fear.

Thanks for reading, please sign the petition at the bottom and help us actively protect our nation’s children.

The story of ‘The Flannel Pajamas’ probably gives the best view into their daily fight for survival.

‘The Flannel Pajamas; a warrior’s armor’

Walter both hated me and adored me now. He still kept coming into the bathroom when I tried to bathe. He’d sit on the toilet seat, talking his filthy talk to me; making sure I felt as if I didn’t even know how to wash myself right, and also that I responded to all of his disgusting remarks. He always made me talk his dirty language and I knew way too much for my young age. I hated everything about my life. I hated him for making me participate in his sick little games. I hated everything about taking a bath, because it became part of his torture. I just wanted to get in the bathroom and hide, not bathe.

The last time I bathed he came in and I decided once again to try and be brave. I yelled downstairs to Mom asking her to make him get out. Of course nobody cared what I had to say as I started to speak up against him. When I yelled for Mom she just yelled back up for him to leave, as though it were an accident he was in there at all. The rage in his eyes grew so furious they looked like they were on fire. He walked out of the bathroom swearing he would get back at me. He would make sure I paid for speaking against him. Mother never asked, or seemed to care at all, if I was alright. In fact, she didn’t even care to hug me since he came into our lives and took away the happy child I was, and should have been.

He stomped down the stairs and when I hoped for her to start yelling at him or even better, maybe hit him; all I heard instead was the normal silence and him turning on the television. “What did I expect? There was never anyone that had stood up for me, questioned me, or helped me; why would that ever change?” 

Our new rental house was huge. The upstairs bedrooms were set up differently from most other houses I’d lived in over the years. We never seemed to stay in the same house very long. My little sister Rachel and I had the door to the right as you got to the top of the stairs. The interior wall had an open doorway from Mom’s room to mine. Mom slept on the right side of the bed, which put her on the same side as the open doorway. Walter would sometimes enter my room at night using that doorway, which meant he had to sneak out of bed and then walk along the end of their bed,walking past Mom to get into my room. Since Rachel and I shared a bed, not just a room, he had to be even more careful about his nighttime visits, because she was getting older and I know there are many troublesome memories she’s told me she’s had problems dealing with; although I’m not sure exactly what some of those memories entail.

As I got older, he would use more force in his hand that covered my mouth. When he snuck up to the side of my bed, his hand would clamp down around my jaw, squeezing so I could feel his dominance of secrecy during his torture. Actually he was growing more violent with me on a daily basis now. Since Mom was bartending in the evenings, it was easier for him to make my life a living hell. 

I had only one nightgown, which was a very thin, pale yellow, see through cotton gown. It had a white upper part around the chest just above my breasts with flowers of purple embroidered on it. It was a pretty gown, but actually much to old for me. Every time I wore it I felt ashamed because it was really too revealing for such a young girl. Supposedly this was a present he bought for me, which Mom had allowed him to pick out and purchase from Victoria Secrets when they took a day out for themselves walking around at the newly built Fairview Heights, ‘St. Clair Square’ mall. I had just one bra and shared my five year old sister’s underwear.

Richie had it made, or at least I thought he did. He had two doors which closed his room off. He actually had a door from the bathroom and a door from Mom’s room, and they both had bolting locks. Mom said, “He is a boy and boys are different from girls. He needs his privacy.” I could never understand the logic behind that excuse, but there was little I could do about changing her mind. He also had thick heavy flannel pajamas with a shirt that buttoned all the way up to the neck. I was so jealous of those pajamas and wanted them so badly. He had to pair of these awesome pajamas, but a night would come that I would sneak one of those, later stashing them away in the bottom drawer of the dresser I shared with Rachel. Although I only wore them one time, I did hang onto them. Much later as I was packing my clothes to leave home shortly after turning seventeen; I found them there and was instantly frozen, completely terrified and my breath stopped dead.

While I was trying to go through my day to day life of being a pre-teen dealing with school, my thoughts were always concentrated on hoping my mom was going to be home when Rachel and I walked in the door. It was my duty of course, to pick her up from class and be sure we came straight home. There were chores waiting everyday to be done. I still remember the extremely dreaded five block walk with my sister, who now had started kindergarten. The short distance felt more like five miles worrying about what was ahead that evening.

First I had to cook dinner for the five of us and clean up the kitchen. I had to do a load of laundry, help my sister with homework, make sure she got to bed on time, only then if there was time and peace I would try to do my schoolwork as well. This was my expected normal routine of daily life. Although my brother checked to make sure the trash got out, everything else my family needed always lied on my shoulders from about age ten. I really tried to pay attention in school, but there was just too many worries at home. My favorite subjects were Math and English, but I never had the guts to raise my hand or even answer a question when the teacher called on me. Walter had destroyed my self-confidence and my self-esteem with his constant abuse. Truthfully I really didn’t have either of those qualities, never believed there was anything good about me at all until I was about thirty-five. 

When I was in school all I noticed were the whispers and pointing from the other kids. I walked around by myself; keeping my head lowered and my mouth shut. Shelly and I didn’t have many classes together anymore, but she was still the best friend I had, the only one who seemed to talk with me now and then.

Everything Walter had done along with the neglect from my mother, just helped to confirm the filthy useless girl I felt I was inside. I didn’t want to draw any type of attention towards myself. Filthy, stench covered, ugly, and slave driven out of trained fear had become my identity at twelve years old. This was the only way I knew how to survive everyday. Survival meant I had to grow and adapt to my environmental surroundings. Distracting his attention away from me was my hardest chore. I kept hoping that maybe I could turn him off or better, maybe I could disgust him the way that I disgusted myself and then perhaps he would stay away.

Mom was never good at encouraging proper hygiene, nor did she care about teaching proper etiquette. She didn’t give the guidance that a struggling, drowning, young preteen girl needed. There was no discussion of boys and really no discussion of how my daily life was going. I was just there. There to clean, cook and take care of the family when she was working, which I surely understood she had to do, but I didn’t know that was supposed to include her husband. I felt as dirty and tangled inside as my hair and body were on the outside. I was ashamed of my life and the hell that I lived in. 

Despite my attempts to make myself as ugly as possible, nothing deterred Walter from the sadistic passion he held for me. The word “passion” was used by the multiple therapists who often told me that his involvement with me and my life had developed from a type of “sick passion and jealousy”. He sought me out no matter how hard I tried to avoid him. I think back as I write this and wonder if the more I tried to push him away maybe the more that action turned him on; this fed his need to terrorize me. Everyday I struggled just to complete my daily chores. He would sneak around me all the time. While I was cooking he would come by and rub my ass, whispering how much he loved it. He would come up behind me while doing dishes and grab my breast; pinching the nipple so hard it made me pull away in pain. As I sat at the table doing my homework he would sneak up and grab at me running his hand across my chest. He always looked at me with eyes glowing and a wicked smile of evil on his face. It was a battle to ensure the outside world only saw the make-up of our family. No one could ever know about the impossibility of trying to be a normal child while living in a torture chamber at home. I never wanted anyone to know the true hell that existed in our house. 

Things were always going to be evil on the nights when Mom worked, which was usually at least four night a week. It always guaranteed that my night would be hell. I could barely put dinner on the table or take care of my sister while trying to dodge his every move. Richie and Rachel were always safe; as I only ever saw him be mad at them once or twice the entire twelve years we lived in the same house as a family. If I maneuvered the night well I could at least get Rachel to bed without battling him for peace. When she got to bed I would run in the bathroom and wash off with a hot washcloth; it was impossible to attempt a bath.

My night started when his voice yelled out; “Richie get your ass up to bed and tell your sister to get her butt in here.” As my brother made his way reluctantly up the stairs he was angry because I was allowed to stay up longer. If he only knew, but I’m certain he has memories as well, especially a few particular nights with Walter for sure. I wanted to climb in a closet and hide or maybe find some hole in which to escape. The voice again, “Trecia Ann, get your ass down here right now. You better be ready for bed too.” This meant that I had best be wearing my little pale yellow nightgown; his favorite special nightgown just for me. A few time I’d try to be really brazen and leave my bra on to cover my breasts and some underwear for my bottom. This just made him angry and he made me take them off anyway, but as a little girl I would still try.

Climbing those stairs down to hell was as long as that dreadful walk home from school. I wanted to turn and run out the door; run anywhere. On this particular night I was so terrified that I went into Richie’s room and locked the door behind me. Walter was really getting pissed at me and started yelling with a deep growl in his voice. He was so furious that I hadn’t come back downstairs right away. “How dare I go against him,” he yelled out. It made him angry but no one else would do anything to help me so I had to try and protect myself. 

Walter’s voice only raged out towards me. He never yelled for my sister or brother, only me. He had his own private play doll; that was it, just a life size doll he had the freedom to play with; do with whatever he wanted. I wanted to be a plastic doll like the ones my dad gave me when I was a little girl. There would be no feelings or thoughts to race through my head; no terror to make me shake in the middle of the night, no feelings of any kind. His voice kept getting louder and I could tell how angry he was getting.

Desperately seeking safety I crawled into bed with Richie. As I curled up next to him and wrapped my arms around him, my little girl voice filled with small tears begged him to help me. “Please Bubby, please help me,” I said. Deep inside I just wanted to disappear, but I knew I could never get away from him. Every night it was the same. I’d pray as hard as I could, “Please God, please just make me a boy.” Richie finally pushed me out of his bed when Walter started threatening to come upstairs and get me. He looked at me; crying the tears of a helpless boy as he told me; ‘Sissy, I’m sorry. You have to go, he’s yelling for you. I can’t help you’.

I stood next to his bed, my small body just begging for someone to reach out for me, to protect me. I stood there with my arms locked around my body, squeezing and holding myself as I cried and pleaded for his help. He was just a boy though; what could he have done to help me? Before I left Richie’s room, I pulled out his dresser drawer and found a pair of those wonderful flannel pajamas, then I snuck into the bathroom, bolted both doors shut tight. The little girl who stood in front of the mirror looking at herself wondering, “What is it about me? What is it that makes him come after me?” My body was physically shaking from head to toe while I struggled to put on those flannel pajamas; “These pajamas will cover me completely and protect me”, as if they had some type of magical power which would prevent him from touching me.

I felt a little safer at first when I started down the stairs that night, but he was waiting at the bottom landing and I could see how angry he was. He stood there like a huge barrel blocking my way. He grabbed my hair as he pushed me into the living room and I fell to the floor. He yanked me back up by my arm and he used his other hand to undo his belt while he dragged me to the back of the house. It was that same hateful leather belt he had drawn blood with so many times before.

He threw me into the back laundry area of the house. Maybe I should have made a run for the back door. I remember looking at it, but I knew I wouldn’t make it, besides I was just a child; a little girl being beaten because she put on a pair of pajamas hoping in some way they would protect her. He slammed me into a corner that I couldn’t get out of as he swung the first sting of his dominating belt. He grabbed me and pushed me up against the washer forcing his body on me so hard that it felt as if I would break in half from the pressure. He was pushing me back with all of his weight, crushing me. I felt it difficult to breathe as he tried bending me backwards against the washer. He kept swinging the belt. He landed a lash around my thigh and the leather grabbed against my skin.

Off of the laundry room, in a little small corner was a half bath area, just a small sink with a toilet and shower stall. He drug me into the little room and bent me over the sink. Raging he ordered, “Get your hands over here and pull down your pants!” He just kept yelling and swinging the belt. “You lean up against that sink there and do as I said. Trecia Ann, you get those pants down now! Don’t you move little girl or I‘ll rip the shit out of you.” I remember his instructions for my beating every time I stand at a sink to brush my broken teeth still today. It climbs into the back of my head and shoots sorrow into my heart. When I look at the vanity I can’t help but remember the little girl who was so frightened that night; the girl who could not get away from him; the girl getting beaten for putting on a pair of flannel pajamas. That little girl buttoned them all the way to the top; tight around the neck, praying they would protect her. Sadly she was raped from behind at that old sink while getting beaten in furious rage for believing she could stand against him.

The horror I felt as he beat me was nothing new. His violence was constant; the constant reminder that he was in control. There was no escape for me so I had to adjust and allow his torture. There could be no signals to the outside world that this was happening. No one could ever know the truth that was my life. I remember so vividly the emotions of terror and humiliation that shot through me. The days of walking through the school with my head down, ashamed of myself for all the disgusting ways he inflicted his dreadful game of torture with me. Later, I learned in therapy and study, all too often the brutalized child swallows their emotions in order to ease the pain of survival and bury the shame of their life. 

After he pulled out of me, his words burned against my neck. In his whispering anger I thought the devil himself was speaking to me. “How dare you?” he said, “You think I called you down here to see you in those ugly fucking things. You just keep trying me every chance you get, don’t you? You think that you can stop me?” He stepped back and grabbed the collar of the shirt, then swung his belt and it wrapped around my thigh again. It stung and felt as though it was cutting right through my skin. I don’t know how long he had me there. He was enjoying the punishment that he was dishing out. “You filthy, ugly, little whore,” he yelled as he pushed my face into the mirror. “You think you can get away from me. You will never be able to get away.” He grabbed the collar as he growled, “Just do as you are fucking told and shut up.”

He pushed me out of the room, down onto a pile of dirty laundry. I felt like I was a piece of garbage lying there. “Please just let me disappear,”my thoughts begged. “Let me dissolve into the filthy pile of laundry, simply disappear forever.” His final statement as he walked away was, “Get your ugly ass up to bed. You keep trying to push me and I will get you. When you least expect it, I will be there.” He walked into the living room huffing from being out of breath and sat down in his recliner. “Get upstairs you little bitch and you better make sure everyone shuts their fucking mouth.” 

Slowly I pulled myself up; my body stinging from the belt. Then, half stumbling, I made my way upstairs. Quietly I eased into bed, my heart still pounding in terror and the welts still growing on my backside. Rachel was asleep; at least her eyes were closed when I looked over at her. If she heard him beating me downstairs she was too scared to say anything about it. My hands pulled the covers in tightly around my body, hoping that they would keep him away, although I didn’t really expect a visit from him that night. At least I hoped it was over and once again I had survived. There were times after the beating, raging fit, when he still needed more. He would torture, send me away, and then call me back for more or sneak in my room for another type of attack. Now my legs, butt and back were stinging from the belt. The dread of what might be next took over my thoughts as I quietly cried myself to sleep. Richie was in his room probably still in the same huddled up position that I had left him in, but he didn’t say a word and he didn’t come in to check on me. My body was exhausted from the beating and the stress of it all so I didn’t hear or feel anyone come sneaking around as I slept. He must have felt satisfied by his imposed torture and chose not to visit me. Trembling now as the feeling of terror comes rushing back, much the same as I trembled then. It really didn’t matter if he killed me because I already felt so completely dead on the inside and so isolated from everyone on the outside.

The next morning Mom was yelling for me to get Rachel ready and come down for school. As I opened my eyes I reached down to rub a spot on my thigh where the belt had landed. I had hoped it was all a dream, but the welts were there to prove me wrong. They swelled up more through the night and my entire thigh
was burning with pain. My legs and every other part of me were still very sore and when I inspected them I could see the purple mounds of blood lying just underneath the flesh, perfectly in line with where the belt had landed. There were marks on my back, down my buttocks and both thighs and a few marks that wrapped around my calves. My body was in so much pain from the beating and slamming around the night before. It really hurt to move at all. My head was sore from where he held onto my hair, which it seemed he always did. I tried splashing cold water on my eyes to help with the swelling, but it just made them sting. The bags around them were dark and so swollen I could hardly see through them at all


As I finished getting ready and started down the stairs, my mind was praying that Walter had already left for work so I wouldn’t have to see his stare. Mom, as always, said absolutely nothing when I slowly arrived downstairs. She didn’t show any signs that she even noticed me. The normal night of my terror and torture had become the routine and it meant nothing to anyone; it was as if I didn’t even exist. Mom didn’t care what happened to make me look like I did or walk the way was. She was so absolutely blind to the pain and hurt that I had been in for the past seven years. Her only concern that morning was for my sister to get to school. “You girls better hurry up or your sister is going to be late,” she said to me. So without saying a word Rachel and I grabbed our books for school and my dreadful day started.’’

From the written true horror of ‘My Justice’, published March 2011.

This is how a child feels when they are brutalized and sexually dominated, used in servitude, traded out and forced in silence to allow others to do whatever they want, completely without concern for any emotions they feel at all.

‘Hell Yes’ I do know very well just how ugly the idea that a parent could dismiss this type of brutality and disgusting actions against their own child. Even worse that someone you are told is your ‘Dad’, could be so intently evil against you. The thought that your happy childhood could change into something so brutal, is never something a child can control. They become objects in their identity; a slave to the needs of others, but without concern or acknowledgement for any tear they shed. Those you live with, those who should love and protect you in gentle guidance through life, instead they enjoy the terror in your eyes, the fear they smell like animals, the dominance over your very breath.

My monster, my terrorist, thrilled when others raped me, filled me with alcohol, weed, cocaine to manipulate; then sent me dancing from lap to lap. I still recall those moments, although its not something I want to remember at all. The days and nights when he wanted to hear all the gory details, then he looked me in the eye and said; ‘God will never forgive you now. You are no longer a young child and God will not ignore what you’ve done. God will never take you into Heaven, not ever.’

As ridiculous as it may sound, and as impossible as it may be, I am still afraid of my afterlife in many ways. I’m spiritual in every sense of the word, but I cannot step into a church without fearing the overbearing judgment of my life. I am afraid that if I haven’t learned my life’s lesson and have to suffer through again, there is no way I could possibly survive his torture ever again. I’m terrified in some way that the monster I still feel creeping around me at times, will be there; waiting for me so that he can attack once again. How bad is the fear when you fear that dominating monster in every single breath you take, in every moment you live, but even worse in the moment you die. Who will protect you from him then?

These monstrous types of offenders will do whatever it takes to demean you and destroy every part of your being. This particular monster stalked and preyed on me even when I was forty years old and temporarily staying at my mother’s new house in Eldorado, Illinois; I wanted to believe he couldn’t be well enough to climb down those stairs to the shower room, just has Mom had said when she refused to let me use her bathroom to shower. However, sure enough as I went to rinse the soap out of my hair, I heard something. When I stepped out to pull back the doorway curtain, there he stood. He was sneaking in like the monster he was; prowling to feed off the fear he had instilled so well.

This is why we most definitely need to continue every ounce of energy to create awareness, bring light to their dark tortured pain and isolation. They are too ashamed, too terrified, certain you will reject them and send them back to endure this constant hell. It is our duty, the duty of our laws and policies, to absolutely ensure that every measure is in place to help victims who need us, every moment they need us. Make sure that law enforcement, teachers, healthcare workers, even our neighbors and school mates understand how serious this is and how destructive to live day after day, month after month, year after year, attack after attack without ever a single person who cares enough to ask; ‘Are you SAFE?’

How is it possible that we have tens of millions of survivors of these types of terroristic family crimes, but yet we can’t seem to get more than 500 signatures? Are we not tired of the ‘Good Ol’ Boy Laws’? Are we not tired of the dismissal and blame we place on young victims? Are we ready to end the teaching of tolerance, silence, and protecting these Family Terrorist, who attack day after day, enjoying the demeaning destruction of bright beautiful children? It’s time and I, along with many other excellent warrior advocates, will stand with you 100% to update our policies in helping victims rebuild, but more importantly to begin teaching the fundamental, inalienable right to be safe for every being around the world. If we work so hard, give so much, to defend the rights of these monstrous criminals; then it is certainly equal we should work so hard to protect our victims, especially children, so that each will feel their own special type of Flannel Pajamas, their warrior armor to protect from the burning touch and keep them safe forever.

HOW IN THE WORLD DO WE EVEN JUSTIFY TEACHING SILENCE OF THEIR GREATEST FEARS; THE FEAR WITHIN THEIR HOME, THE CONSTANT TERRORISTIC TORTURE THEY HOPE TO SURVIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY!!

PLEASE HELP, PLEASE SIGN, PLEASE SHARE!!!

https://www.change.org/p/mr-president-please-enforce-the-right-to-be-safe-for-all-persons-especially-our-children-enforce-family-terrorist-act-trecia-s-law

Thank you for reading here. Thank you for protecting the children who come into your life’s circle. If every one of those millions of survivors will make a commitment to protect just one child today, this will ensure a beginning to an end of these very ugly, brutally monstrous, terroristic types of family crimes.

Best Regards,

Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight

Author: ‘My Justice’

Speaker, Trainer, Advocate, Survivor

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery 

Will we just keep counting the bodies……..

Headline       biopic3_thumb.png

http://www.clipsyndicate.com/video/play/5717473

Interview courtesy of: WCIAtv, reporter Jessica Kunz

This is a fabulous interview and friends I am extremely grateful for the past few months of interviews I’ve been blessed to take part in; this one by Jessica and two others with Investigative Reporter, Eric Steltzer WANDtv.com (links for these two interviews listed below). My concern however; can someone possibly explain to me why we would rather just keep counting the bodies of the millions of children harmed everyday by family sex trafficking or family terroristic abuse and torment; keep counting the lives of millions destroyed by these acts every year rather than addressing the issue head-on?

Dammit I’m FURIOUS!!! I’ve handled just about all of the authoritative rejection I can possibly deal with on this issue. These past 5 years have been spent channeling as much energy as possible in providing education, awareness, activism, and advocating for the individual basic right to be safe, especially for our children. Many other outstanding advocates have either teamed up with me personally, or have done their own exhaustive advocating on the very serious pandemic numbers which continue to climb above 3.5 million every year, and those are just the numbers of child maltreatment reports. However, because of the mandates, which are not updated to address the hidden trauma behind the family terroristic nature of the abuse to force a child to remain silent and simply endure whatever it is their parent continues to dish out on them day after day, year after year, until they are old enough to get away or they end up self destructing. Sadly many thousands of these wounded souls commit suicide every year, because the trauma is just too severe to overcome and the heavy burden of shame and silence refuses to be addressed by those in our community and our politicians who have the power to create the changes needed to save their lives.

Yes, I’ve used my own personal story, but I don’t feel its my right to discuss someone else’s history. Also the nature of my very public and well known family sex trafficking, exploitation, terrorized slavery, and disfiguring neglect is really one of the most extreme cases I’m aware of, as is with a few other survivors, but none to the public knowledge that mine exceeded in our small rural community.  However, rest assured my goal is NOT for personal gain, but rather to create one of the strongest untied stands across the country in our human history to ensure that these crimes STOP NOW!!

I’ve been shut down by the Illinois Dept of Public Health, stating my story was too graphic and although April’s conference in Peoria was for the qualified trained professionals on Women’s Health and Family Wellness; I was told I needed to tune back my story and reduce the graphic nature of those 30+ years in hell. They had professionals declining to attend my presentation because it was just more than they could possibly handle. Do they realize that children are still suffering in these tragedies everyday? Do they realize that if they do not face it and discuss it, they will NEVER get a child to discuss it with them? Do they realize that by refusing to listen for one hour as I talk about the actions of Family Crimes and the extreme trauma involved when the acts have been committed with complete malice, in a form of terroristic nature, for the sole purpose of silencing the child and preventing them from ever feeling safe enough to talk about these ugly secrets, thus preventing any criminal charges against the parents who commit and allow these grievous acts? Do they realize the continue teaching of shame, rejection, and of course, SECRET KEEPING they enforce when they as trained healthcare professionals cannot handle listening to a one hour presentation which will help them spot and treat, assess and assist a victim of any age trapped in these vicious attacks?

Last October, I teamed up with a personal friend and the Legal Advocacy Director for Violence Prevention Center of Southwestern Illinois. I had been working on a proposal to address the very serious crimes within our family unit and the terroristic nature in which they were constantly kept secret and silent. Lisa Chilton and I took the proposal to Illinois House Representative Jay Hoffman, then to Illinois States Attorney Brendan Kelly, and in late February I was notified that ‘terroristic’ was not the proper or acceptable word to use, and out of ten guidelines in the proposal they were ready to introduce a measure to change the Statute of Limitations for a barrage of criminal sexual offenses against a child, including involuntary sexual servitude. The measure House Bill #3242 was going to change our S.O.L. from 1 year after victims 18th birthday, to 20 years, which would allow the victims time to first escape the parental control and then go through the very long and grieving process of accepting what had actually happened, then they could bring forth criminal charges by the time they were 38 years old. However, when I emailed Representative Hoffman last week about a date they would be introducing this bill, I received what seemed to me, a proper political email; “I regret to inform you we had other bills processed and decided not to address this issue at this time, but rest assured I am determined to stand behind your cause.” I really do not mean to offend Representative Hoffman, IL Dept of Public Health, or any other of our legislators or our state and national resources, but I certainly would like to ask, ‘When will the body count be serious enough for our systems to finally take a very public stand and address what changes need to be implemented to ensure we are doing our very best; not only protect the individual rights of our children, all victims to be safe, but also update our public policy on how we assess, assist, and investigate every report of maltreatment made across the country?’

There is another person whom I’ve partnered with, Dana Pfeiffer, Director of Grounds of Grace a nonprofit resource assisting victims of human trafficking, terroristic abuse, and other related family crimes around Central Illinois, including our State Capital of Springfield where the amazing President Lincoln began his strongest political campaign, which later led to the equal rights to FREEDOM for all persons. The Emancipation Proclamation granting freedom for all persons to be seen equal in the eyes of our laws, without regard to race, religion, gender, and age. These are our basic Human & Civil Rights, written into law by our United Nations General Assembly in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and our own American Constitution; in fact it is the basic freedoms our country was founded on but yet we still can’t truly stand up for those rights, especially when it comes to our children and the desperate destruction happening within our families every single day.

Dana Pfeiffer and I have teamed up in speaking engagements as I present my history and what I advocate for today, she is right by my side validating the serious crimes she helps victims escape committed by their family, most commonly their parents. The numbers she assists continues to climb, victims as young as 2 years old to 68 years old. When I address people in authority, or in any setting, about the serious nature of my case, it is not for your pity. I don’t need your pity and absolutely DO NOT WANT YOUR PITY. I’ve survived and my life is very good today. I am safe, I am loved, and if my children and grandchildren weren’t still dealing with the emotional staining from those acts that distorted and destroyed the safe path in my life; my life today would actually be quite perfect.

However, what I do hope those who hear my story, or read ‘My Justice’, will take from all of the extreme vicious and very public nature of exploitation, sex trafficking, terrorized slavery, and the disfiguring neglect of all basic human needs; I WANT YOUR ACTION. We need to ensure not another single person is abandoned and judged as I was throughout the six consecutive years of family friends, school teachers, neighbors, adult men and boys who got their own special time with the child, the law enforcement who knew me well and didn’t care at all that my skin was rotting and filth covered because I could not even safely bathe in my home. Every person in Freeburg, Illinois knew my family, knew my mother;‘POOR WOMAN, having to deal with such a horrible man’.

Guess what towns people, she didn’t deal with him at all, cause he was like a comforting blanket who kissed the ground she walked on. He would have done anything for her, and he did leave my brother and sister alone, but me; I was his target. I was his to do with as he pleased, she not only sacrificed me for him to do with as he pleased, but she also abandoned all basic human needs, ordered me to care for, cook for, and provide for the family needs, she purchased him a little brass bell that only I was expected to answer to at all times. The citizens of Freeburg either witnessed, took part in, or saw the very public destruction of a young growing girl and tagged her as the ‘Village Whore’, rather than try to help her. When I reached out today asking those in public office, those in media who have the ability to share this story, those who fight for protective rights and those in every small community; still all I have felt is that same sense of disregard I lived with all my life. No one cared when it was my parents. No one reported the many years of almost murderous attacks and beatings in my relationships and marriages. Neighbors, police, and healthcare all dismissed the horrific nature of my daily life and figured I didn’t deserve their help then, and apparently the continuing climbing numbers of those speaking about these past decades in hell, they are all getting those same closed doors as I am today.

When I write, do interviews, or even the creation of our petition addressing Family Crimes and Terroristic Abuse (link below for you to sign now), what I want, what all of the hundreds of survivors hope to achieve in sharing our voices today; we want to inspire every healthcare worker, every educator, every community member to notice the warning signs of the desperate victims and rather than abandon them and judge them for the disgusting behavior or promiscuous nature of their acts, HELP THEM!! Maybe you’ll be the one to rescue them; to give them a chance to heal their wounds, learn the positive behaviors and become better parents for their children. It’s easy to look at a family or a person, pass our taught nature of judgment and then turn away and do nothing, but it takes great courage to say that every life matters and EVERY CHILD DESERVES TO BE SAFE!!!

I don’t understand why, throughout our entire human existence, the authorities who have the power to do something simply disregard the serious body count related to suicide, murder, and self destruction from these vicious and disgusting acts, especially when committed against a helpless child who cannot fight back, cannot run away; they can only endure in silent tears the shameful brutal crimes committed against them by their parents and family. I really do not understand why we do not step up and scream out; ‘THAT’S IT, THIS IS NOT THAT CHILD’S CRIME AND SHOULD NOT BE THAT CHILD’S BLAME’!!

How many more centuries will people have to endure these types of attacks within their homes, by their parents or their partners, then walk away filled with pain and terror, while the offenders are protected by the forced ugly secrets of torture and trafficking, or they walk away with a slap on the wrist rather than the harshest punishments deserving of their actions? It is their choice to attack and terrorize, especially when they are attacking and forcing a child into dark secrets and a life filled with destructive behaviors and continued shame in the feeling of not being worth saving. We have hundreds of documented studies which reveal how a life in traumatic events and vile attacks impacts the lives of individuals. We have studies confirming the frontal lobe brain development impaired and twisted by the repeated years trying to survive and making daily decisions based on what they need to do in order to just survive that day. We have the National Child Traumatic Stress Network, the Centers for Disease and Control, National Domestic Violence Hotline, Prevent Child Abuse America and many other outstanding organizations which hold rallies, they help victims recover and rebuild their lives; yet we cannot get a public policy legislator to truly address and make it their public platform to face the very serious pandemic numbers which continue to soar above three million reports every single year. I’m tired of counting the bodies, I’m disheartened by the lack of public concern and the constant avoidance of the direct issues. Constantly I pray that someday all that happened to me, and many other millions like me, will one day matter to those who have the power to mandate our laws and protect the very precious right to simply BE SAFE!! The rights to be free; free from harm and free from fear. One day we will protect the rights of every human being to be safe, no matter who is harming them. What worries me most, is how many lives will it cost us before we actually begin implementing the changes needed to ensure we are doing the very best for our children’s future tomorrow.

Let’s stop counting the bodies and do something about the crimes!!

Thanks for reading, perhaps you’ll also sign our petition here —- https://www.change.org/p/mr-president-please-enforce-the-right-to-be-safe-for-all-persons-especially-our-children-enforce-family-terrorist-act-trecia-s-law

I’d like to thank Investigative Reporter Eric Steltzer with WANDtv.com for the fabulous interviews and share those links with readers here…..Courtesy of WANDTV.com

1) http://www.wandtv.com/category/182814/video?autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=11396570

2) http://www.wandtv.com/category/182814/video?autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=11166176

In closing, Ms. Dana Pfeiffer & Ms. Lisa Chilton, thank you both my friends for your ongoing support and your courage to continue rescuing and assisting all the victims who come into your path. You are both angels and we need your efforts in helping to encourage our society that now is the time to create the greatest change for our human society and protect all persons before something horrific enters their life to destroy the special magic of their spirit within. I’d like to thank Ms Linda Walcher, Kristen Eng, Amie Loman, and Exec Director Darlene Jones of the Violence Prevention Center of SW IL, Mr. Donn Willeford of Hoyleton Ministries, Michal Madison, Mary Graziano, Kelly Townsend, Julia De’Alfanzo, Tammy Fox, Bill Murray, Petra Luna and many hundreds of other amazing advocates who continue to fight the good fight and support victims, survivors, and families touched by the horrible cycle of these crimes. Together we can all make a huge difference, and remember by making the choice today to protect just one person in your life’s circle, to be a positive influence in their lives; you hold the power to change their life’s path, eventually protecting their children and their grandchildren from all the suffering which impacts that victim today.

Blessings & thank you readers,

Patricia A McKnight

Author; ‘My Justice’

Fndr: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Steps to Recovery –Daily Rebuilding Skills

Family Crimes & Terroristic Abuse Training Program

Contact me today for your next eventtrish.mcknight@live.com

www.facebook.com/triciagirl62

Public Health Department canceled presentation because victim story too intense

biopic3This is no joke my friends. In January I was asked to present for the Illinois Department of Public Health; April 8th for the Women’s Health & Family Wellness. Unbelievably the lead coordinator for this conference contacted me last week and stated they would have to cancel. When I asked upfront if it was something specific about my story or my presentation, she quickly responded;

‘Your story is really a bit too much in your face. Perhaps if you tone it down a bit and focus more on what we can do to help, then maybe we can invite you back. We’ll keep you on the list of presenters and see what happens.

Let me say first, any time that anyone has asked me to speak – all they have wanted is my horrific victim story. I have learned how to ease my story through but it’s not an easy feat, especially when you consider the true horrific nature of the story itself and how many persons circled through my childhood and adult relationships without ever saying a word.

Quickly I emailed this lead coordinator the presentation I have used to help more than 100 survivors, used on more than 200 radio shows, and have built a website for educational & empowerment for every person. It is NOT a VICTIM’S STORY. In fact, it is ‘Steps to Recovery’.

In this presentation I share first our protective law history, the stats of some 2.3 million discarded reports because the sole intake worker decided they didn’t warrant further investigation. The presentation also covers the very serious truth about molestation, a crime which leaves no physical trace. When someone has molested a child, there is rarely any trace because it’s not like rape. It is touching and groping, therefore without seeing a child’s physical response to another person, or listening to how they play and interact with other children or their toys; you may never know your child is being molested. If the person/s molesting the child are the parents/guardians, then this child may have been going through this since before they can remember. It could be that sexual contact and stimulation is all they know. If they have just started being molested, you will see the outward signs of trauma and challenges in the child’s appearance, interactions, and their school work.

Anyway, also in the presentation I go through the Five Steps of Recovery which came from what I had to do in order to help myself change from victim to victorious. These are goal lists, positivity lists, understanding the impacts of my specific trauma, and it is the work which VICTIMS have to do, NO ONE ELSE CAN DO THIS FOR THEM. It is about empowering every victim with the one thing taken from them which leaves them in a victim state of life, it is about teaching them to use their voice and not to be ashamed of what someone else has done to them. It is not a crime they did but rather a crime committed AGAINST THEM.

Think about this for a moment, if we tell victims they need to ease up on the facts of what someone else has done to them, isn’t this the same as the abuser telling them that no one cares, no one wants to hear, no one will help them? In my eyes, having gone through my own very challenging and life pattern changing recovery; silencing a victim is like putting them in a cage with a bowl of water and a blanket for comfort. It’s like gagging them and only letting them talk when you want to hear them. It’s like taking away their power and their strength to find their balance again. It’s very hard for a victim to find trust and safety to speak at all. They must reach deep down inside to find that one point of them that they feel matters and then believe that someone else will think that it matters as well.

Now, having the Public Health Department tell me that they had professionals who had seen video of me, had seen photos and read a few emails; then decided my story was just too ugly to sit through. If we cannot educate the professionals about the honest truth of how vicious these crimes within our homes, hidden under the parental control and inflicted terror against a child; if we cannot be honest then how will we ever teach our children that they have nothing to be ashamed of? How will we teach them to tell someone when they are being touched, probed, sold, traded, beaten and degraded by the people they live with, the persons who control their very existence? I ask you friends, although we should definitely use age appropriate measures when talking with our kids about these topics, how can we teach them if the professionals do not want to hear the details of their suffering?

I very much believe that the voice of a victim is the one solid tool which will lead them to feel victorious in their life. One step at a time they learn that as they release the details of their suffering that are no longer afraid of the sledge hammer of hell coming down to destroy them. It is the locked up silence which traps them in living a victim pattern of life. This much I’ve learned in the years of not having insurance or money for a therapist so I lay in bed crying for days, screaming about the how & why of what happened to me, why wasn’t I worthy of protecting as they protected my siblings? Why did I have to be a slave, forced to answer the ring of that little brass bell, whatever the ‘master’ needed? Why was I the only one forced to spend days scrubbing the corners of our house, then two years after I move out, the house is so over run with roaches, not even the exterminator can keep up with the battle? Why didn’t it matter that I was covered with filth and infection, my teeth black, plaque covered and broken, my body covered in bruises day after day? Why didn’t someone in that town help me, why didn’t I matter as a human being?

Because no one ever stepped up to say; ‘Hey Trecia Ann, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. You deserve to be safe, take a bath in your home, a toothbrush, some tenderness.’ Sadly as a result of all those people who either witnessed or took part in the sadistic games with me as the prize, but yet not one ever found me worthy to acknowledge as a human being; it is these types of actions which led me to believe this was my life. This is was what I deserved, and I should never think that I deserve anything better. It is all of this that left me living in a victim state of mind. I was everyone’s perfect victim and completely submissive for any person who showed me a hint of kindness. I just wanted to be loved, to be safe, and I would give anything of myself to not have someone hurt me, even to the point of regulating my breathing so as not to give cause for another attack.

I know many exactly like me and I hope you have taught the children you know the true power of their voice and our professionals need to know how monsters like this make it their mission to silence their victims. As ridiculous as it may sound, my stepfather still has me terrified of my afterlife; afraid that I might have to endure him all over again. This is a real fear for me. This is how evil and how horrific his actions were and not a single person in the middle of that town would ever want to hear my voice, my plea for mercy, my begging my mother’s help, my prayers for God to take me away.

Readers, I hope as you’ve read this it made some sense and that you will watch the children in your circle of life and family. I assure you, I am not the only survivor of such atrocities. I assure you, evil like this is happening in the smallest of communities across the country. As many advocates I work and share with have found, more cases of parental child sex trafficking & web-based exploitation of their children is happening in small communities across the country. The internet has a lot of great uses, but the deviate mind who wants to make money; they find that charging people to watch them molest, traffick and exploit their children is sadly more than our services can possibly take down. All of us within a community need to be aware of the children in our neighborhood. Do they seem like good kids? Are their people coming and going at all hours? Is there a lot of adult men and strangers coming to the house? Our educators can help by watching how the child’s school work is completed, are they up to date, interact in class, have reasonable social skills with others, are they reasonably clean and well cared for?

Our health care professionals & law enforcement are the frontline for their safety. You need to know how dark it can become and exactly what adults will go through to silence a child for what can turn into decades of their life, remember the fear and silence has to outlast any statute of limitations so that the predator is never held accountable or prosecuted for their harm done. We should never tell ANY victim to be quiet, ‘tone it back’, ‘get over it’. They may want to have us ease our stories, but for this victim who has worked so hard to become victorious and put every ounce of devotion possible into helping make sure we are able to help others trapped today, the frontline defenders will not tell this victim; ‘it just doesn’t matter’.

To me this reprehensible, and it feels a lot like the weapon and slap used to silence me a long time ago.

Empower every person to know their Civil Rights to life, liberty, and security of their person. They deserve a SAFE life, and no one has the right to inflict harm or sexual contact, unless they are consenting and accepting adults. No one has a right to inflict harm like this on a child who cannot speak up, cannot refuse, cannot fight back, cannot run away, and cannot escape the day to day torment & torture by the one who has control over their very existence. You can help us educate our frontline defenders by supporting our petition – ‘Family Terrorist Act – https://www.change.org/p/mr-president-please-enforce-the-right-to-be-safe-for-all-persons-especially-our-children-enforce-family-terrorist-act-trecia-s-law

Thanks for reading, have a wonderful day

Empower every person to believe they absolutely matter!!!

Patricia McKnight

copyright @ www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

Author; ‘My Justice’

What will you gain from reading ‘My Justice’?

 

MyJustice         ‘My Justice’ by     biopic3

                   Patricia A. McKnight

 

Many people have told me how ‘My Justice’ has influenced their lives in a powerful way.  Sadly, I’ve also been told how my ‘victim’ story is way too graphic and is not suitable for public knowledge.

‘You really should tame it back Trish, it’s just too much in your face and our attendees just are not very receptive. Perhaps if you turned it back a notch or so.’

I’d like to take a few moments to help people out in making the decision to read ‘My Justice’ or hear ‘My Story’.

First off, let me say, this is an extremely violent true account of, not only the twelve long years of ‘terroristic’ child molestation, rape, exploitation, sex trafficking, family servitude, and physically disfiguring neglect, but also how having to endure through all of these pains affected my adult life, adult relationships, marriages, sense of self worth, and most importantly my parenting and independent skills in supporting a family. As you read the chapters, going from one traumatic ugly event to another, you are engaged in the accounts from the child, woman, wife, mother, and then the survivor whose only mission is to be a good person and find a sincere, safe, true love.

  • This book is NOT intended for any reader under the age of fourteen
  • This book is highly recommended for victims of similar types of childhood or adult personal violations and harm.
  • ‘My Justice’ is extremely useful in educating yourself and persons within law enforcement, healthcare, psychology, and family service providers.
  • ‘My Justice’ is a walk through a victim’s life in a home with a dominating forceful personality who engrained a sense of fear so intense, she lived day after day, year after year, in a constant threat of attack. You will see how this type of environment impacted her entire life, her decisions, behaviors, parenting, and how she was trained to be a sexualized, submissive personality with absolutely no other spark of identity within.

‘My Justice’ is a personal journey written first with only the intent to get it all out of my body. The memories were flooding my soul at that time, triggered by my mother’s heart attack and illness. Yes, it had always eaten away at me, how could so many people who interacted throughout so many years of my life, how could they have abandoned me to be so completely destroyed. I really had no idea who I was supposed to be. The second purpose was to explain to my children how it all had played out and affected their lives. I needed them to forgive my lack in skills, see how important they really were to me, and somehow use the knowledge I was beginning to finally understand myself; use what I’d written and studied in my own life changing path so that they could change how things were in their lives. Seeing how Bink reacted as he read through his true love’s life long pattern of pain was like a spark that perhaps I did matter, perhaps my secrets mattered, perhaps my horrific life could help someone else figure out how to change what had been done to them.

I found out just how many adult survivors of these types of childhoods were in our society. Everyone of us felt isolated in our pain, trapped by the expected behaviors & achievements of our society and unable to openly speak about these horrors. In the centuries before the internet, there may have been one or two who felt safe enough to reveal the truth, but most were living life ashamed of what happened and afraid of being ostracized for being that once silent, trapped, manipulated and controlled, terrorized victim. We were living our lives weighed down by all of the disgusting, vile, and brutal acts we had no choice but to endure and accept; no matter how often they happened or what we were forced to do. After some serious consideration, with a reluctance as to how it was going to be accepted, I took a chance and self published these nightmares because to me as I wrote out my dark inner self, there was a inner sense of finally taking back my freedom, my own sense of person, and I began to put together the person, with the values, that I wanted to be today. With me, through many who know me, what you see is really what you get. There are no longer any dark secrets looming behind the curtain. I am no longer trapped with his monstrous hand covering my mouth and holding me silent as I lay there trapped in his evil attacks. No longer was my only identity wrapped up in the sexualized, devalued, and stripped raw person my parents created. Publishing ‘My Justice’ was publishing ‘My Freedom’ and in finding my own identity I realized just how important ‘My Justice’ really was and it became my heart’s mission to change the centuries of human silence about this tragic topic.

 So let’s go forward then…..

Who will be helped and how will they be helped in reading this violent journey through my third nervous breakdown as a result of all that had been my life?

Victims & Survivors:

Although you may find this book triggering or upsetting, take a breath, lay it down and come back to it when you’re in a better place or a peaceful mindset. I want to tell you; ‘Your identity, the magic candle that Creator has instilled within every soul; the magic is still very much inside of you, and you hold the only chance at life it really has to shine. It’s tragic these evil actions have ever been committed against you, but if you want to be truly free from the pain, you simply need to be strong enough to let go of the only way of life you’ve ever known. You need to get angry at being someone’s victim all the time, decide for yourself that YOU will never tolerate another act of harm against you again. In reading ‘My Justice’, many have contacted me about how it inspired them to get away from an abuser, begin looking into their past, catching the repeated dysfunctional ways they parent their children. Readers have looked at the choice patterns they’ve made in life and what they believed was safe, tolerable, accepted within a relationship. If you are now or ever were someone’s victim, there is a life altering impact from the trauma which causes a chain reaction in your choices, behaviors, parenting, perceptions of the world as a whole. There is scientific proof of the frontal lobe brain dysfunctions caused by trauma on a child’s developing brain. the impacts alter your sense of safe, not safe, Fight or Flight; even how you develop your independence as a teen or preteen. Remember that regardless of your past or what your parents may have or have not taught you about life, you are the ONLY person who can control your decisions, your actions and your reactions You cannot and should not be trying to control choices and life patterns for someone else. You are the only one that can put forth the effort and determination you will need to change your life, but this book is something that just might help you re-evaluate your behaviors and relationships and at the end you will find a list of Five Positive Insights to help you through those challenging times.

Close Family & Friends of victims/survivors:

If you are a close friend or you love someone who is dealing with these types of harms from their past, perhaps as a child or even in adult or school relationships, there is an emotional distortion in many of the responses and actions you see in that person. You may disagree with all or some of their behaviors and what they do, you may say to yourself, ‘I’m so tired of seeing her fall down in the cracks all the time’. Please understand, especially in cases of a life raised in a violent home or a sexually distorted environment; they cannot help and may not even realize the level of trauma they’ve been through. It may be necessary to provide an intervention in some way, depending on how bad their life is today. They may not realize how it affects their instant responses to things in their life today. Maybe they are loved and have a happy family, however like many other human beings who have endured such atrocities against them, there are changes in their inner self that may not be like your choices, your reactions, your inhibitions. These persons have had everything that was good about them beaten down, degraded, and at its worst completely discarded for any sadness or pain, even intense fear they may have endured. Today we just want to help them know it is safe. Comfort and support them. If they find the courage to share with you, do not be shocked and disgusted. Do not tell them they shouldn’t talk about such things. Instead we need to see how we can help them. If you see them perhaps being too harsh with their children, making rash decisions, or even abusing drugs or alcohol; please offer them a contact of help. Address the issues with them, as hard or challenging as it may be. Let them know you are not judging them, but just want to help provide some light in their life and make things a bit happier for them. Love and comfort them, let them know they can trust you with their pain.

For educators, healthcare, law enforcement, behavioral specialist, and psychology professionals:

The professionals who come in contact with child victims or person’s in a dangerous situation, you are the front line for them. Remember that we teach our children these are ‘SAFE’ persons and that if they are in danger, not being treated nicely, or someone is harming them in some way; you are the strong one who will help them. In reading ‘My Justice’ you will see how the years of heinous neglect/refusal to provide any form of needs or care for the child, resulted in the belief that there was nothing about her worth helping or saving. The educational system where she attended from 3rd to 10th grade, day after day, as the filth and infected sores covered her skin, the black rotten fangs hanging from her mouth, the constant pattern of homework not done, no after school activities, no social interactions with others, nothing but a pattern of sexualized behaviors because in what she was taught; sex and servitude was the only value she had as a human being. Your professional contact in responding to a victim is crucial. How you make them feel that they absolutely deserve someone to hear them, see them, be gentle with them, and help them get to a safe place matters in how their future beliefs and life patterns will be built. When you respond with care, concern, a sense of tenderness; you have the power to change their lives and the dysfunctional self hatred engrained by years of trauma and pain. In law enforcement, when you disregard the child, woman, mother, father, who has been hit, violated, or dominated by a sense of terror; you have also left them believing they are not worth saving. You can learn to evaluate the care of each individual within the home, then determine if there is cause to take the ‘bad’ person away and give them time to find a safe place. Behavioral specialist & Guidance Counselors at school; rather than continuously reprimanding or suggesting medication control of the child who displays disruptive behaviors, always lagging in homework, no interests in activities, poor social skills, perhaps only one or two persons you see them interact with if anyone at all. There is a more simple direct question and a process of building trust, a respectful bond, with the troubled child/person. You can be much more pro-active in assisting/encouraging a change in behavior when you ask; is there something going on, maybe I can help, is there someone at home that has you scared or is preventing you from doing your homework?’ The direct concern of the person’s well being just might save their life. After you read ‘My Justice’ you’ll be more aware of the details, rather than just the trained bullet point behaviors, of someone who just might need your help. As a community responder, someone who interacts with this person on a regular basis, you will see just how your tuned senses learned from the victim’s words of these horrors and be able to more frequently spot a person in need of your professional assistance providing them with a safe place. 

‘My Justice’ has been used in online psychology courses taught by Dr. Brenda Markert-Green. It is also a regularly recommended read from one of Illinois strongest voices in the Illinois Retired Teachers, Coordinator for the Teacher’s Mentoring Program for upcoming educators. This very personal story has been suggested reading by my own therapist for other patients. It’s also been recommended by advocates across the country, in United Kingdom, Australia, and Canada. As a society we have a direct responsibility to be able to maintain safe communities for our children, this includes the homes where our children aren’t allowed to go and the parents we don’t trust around our children. It is what we do as aware protective parents; as a society who wants to help create some type of change in how these past taught and trained behaviors against people within our homes; those we love the most and those who have no choice but to endure, grow up so they can get away themselves; this is where ‘My Justice’ will change your life and you will become more instinctive and responsive to the victims & survivors around us everyday.

As professionals, neighbors, community leaders, church elders, and responders; it is our adult duty to evaluate what lies underneath this misbehaving, lagging, promiscuous child. Be prepared to find out just how bad it can be sometimes inside the homes of those in our community. There are usually signs of a dysfunctional or harmful environment, learn them and use the guide to determine how best to help someone you know.

As you have read here, ‘My Justice’, has already achieved so much more than I ever thought it would and has influenced the lives of tremendous people with the power, knowledge, and ability to make a difference in the lives of those who suffer. We can all do this by simply caring about whether or not someone is safe. Don’t just listen to the fighting and screaming down the hall from the same family night after night. Don’t turn up the tv or close the window, instead open your heart and allow yourself to pick up the phone and report what you see and hear to the front line professionals who are there to help, especially when it is a child who cannot fight back, cannot refuse, and can be easily manipulated into believing all of the pain is really their fault, they just aren’t any good and it doesn’t matter that they are being hurt. Should we ever allow another being to feel this way about themselves when there is a beautiful light inside each of us, which just might one day change the world?

I hope you purchase ‘My Justice’. I hope you recommend others to read this story, share your copy of the book with a friend, list it as recommended reading for college students studying to become a front line defense person for families, victims, and survivors who just might be waiting for someone to help them see that their life, their smile, their safety really does matter.

Thank you for your time here. I appreciate any feedback you want to share. If you’d like to arrange a speaking venue or perhaps need some assistance yourself, or maybe you want to know more about the full list of things you can do to help; please email direct to trish.mcknight@live.com

Be well & keep on dreaming, your butterfly, your freedom, your sense of safety; your inner magic really does matter!!

Patricia McKnight

‘My Justice’ – A true account, chapter after chapter, of the many horrific years endured through evil, sex trafficking, servitude, brutal beatings, and what is no less than torture. Please use personal care when reading, do not stress to rush through but rather take your time and do not allow your past to take away your amazing future.

 

copyright @ Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Sept 2012