To change our world we have to heal our past……

 

Have you noticed the multitude of Adult Survivors of Child Sex Crimes who are sharing their collective voices across the United States? Actually if you really notice it’s happening in every country around the world; filling the internet and becoming part of the norm? I must say myself and every other adult survivor never thought we would be able to break our silence, release the ugly secrets, and have our voices matter. It’s outstanding the pendulum swing and it’s about damn time we take a real hard look at what has been tolerated inside our families throughout our human history.

Often inside our homes is now or can become the most dangerous place in the world!!!

National Institute of Mental Health estimates 4.2% of Adult Americans with Serious Mental Illness (SMI)

 

Why the NIMH Data?

What do we absolutely know about Trauma and our Brain; Emotional Response vs Learned Behavioral Patterns?

Let me make clear that I am in no way a licensed or specially trained psychology expert on any level. However, what I can say is:

  • I lived in a tumultuously dangerous environment for 40 years
  • I have worked through my 3rd nervous breakdown and have been a continuous work in progress for six straight years
  • It has taken days upon days of research to be prepared & provide actual confirmed information in hopes of assisting others like myself. In producing/hosting more than 200 online talk radio programs concerning different levels of this topic; our mental health, physical health, and even family health seriously impacted, which then effects our communities, crime, drugs, alcohol, gang and school violence, bullying, work place violence and societal abuses that plagues America’s most vital Freedom; our justice system.
  • I have attended trainings provided by local & Illinois State organizations to provide my certifications in Domestic & Family Violence Assistance and Prevention received by Violence Prevention Center of SW IL in June 2013. Also certification in Human Trafficking 101 which was provided by Rescue & Restore Coalition of East St. Louis in March 2014.
  • To provide assured information in the website and support provided by Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery. Links and research has been appropriately provided in it’s development and updates since September 2012; along with the honor to share the creative watercolor art by Advocate/Friend/Survivor Michal Madison. www.michalmadisonart.com
  • In my attended trainings throughout 2013 & 2014 this included Sexual Assault Awareness & Prevention; Child Abuse Awareness & Prevention; Elder Abuse Awareness & Prevention; Bullying Awareness & Prevention; Mental Health Support Awareness
  • I have dedicated my focus and my drive to be part of this major force and end the stigma related to being abused; either in severe neglect, psychological, physical, sexual, and/or living with a constant fear in Family Violence.

It is factual to quote an FBI Victim’s Specialist in stating;

‘You are indeed an EXPERT’

I would say that while yes, I have a lot of vital information which I’ve collected, published, and shared to help create the change and influence as many positive vibes in helping change knowledge, provide support, and even update our policies & laws; I in no way consider myself an ‘EXPERT’.  In that statement, I have provided at least some 30 other survivors like myself who have built nonprofits, provide help, publish blogs, monitor support groups, assist victims & provide support for any person who reaches out in a difficult or harmful situation.  These are friends, family warriors, and persons whom I’ve actually admired and found strength from in what we are doing together.

We must understand the path of recovery from these issues isn’t just doing without a drug, or a drink, or getting through a moment. This process of recovery influences your education, your life skills knowledge, the ability to work everyday, to not be triggered by something in a grocery store or when with a group of friends. It effects parenting skills, boundaries, and educating our children as well as protecting them from any of this type of negative influence. It requires a complete moment to moment process of changing your lifestyle, your thoughts, your learned behaviors and disrespect for others or a type of person; such as Racism Against a Religion, Sexual Preferences, Color of Skin, Gender, Age, Economic Status or Place of Residence.

Humans have been taught and influenced by the generation before them, those who are responsible for guiding them and providing balance in their growing life. Tragically those who are teaching them in family have already endured the suffering and been influenced by what their parents and then the generation before have believed was appropriate and influenced without punishment or concern against their kids. Each of us can go back for centuries in our cultures and family tolerances to see a cycle that just continues and no one seems to know how to change it. They are either too traumatized & trained to believe this is simply life, or they have been altered by the distress of being victimized and living in a daily battle of survival.

How can we possibly see an end to this behavioral emphasis in our human existence. Yes, we definitely make sure that our laws & policies provide the best possible guidelines and punishments, but also that we provide the best possible community awareness and education in every small rural community across the borders. It is only in helping to develop a NEW way of thinking that this process will ever be achieved or even begin to affect the whole of our society. It starts in what we teach our kids and how we treat them.

The basics:

  • YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HARM OTHER BEINGS.
  • YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SEXUALLY INFLUENCE A CHILD IN ANY MANNER.
  • YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO OWN, TRADE, SHARE, USE ANOTHER HUMAN BEING OF ANY AGE, RACE, RELIGION.
  • YOU DO NOT HAVE THE POWER TO OWN OR DOMINATE; TO VIOLATE THE FREEDOM OF ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.

Yes, I’m a dreamer. I wish we could flip a switch and end this TODAY, but sadly like it has taken us generations to get as severe as we are today; it will take generations for us to provide that path and create a peaceful type of life with others.

We can however definitely make a CHOICE; make a decision right now, begin this very moment; I will not allow this destruction to touch my life or my family any longer. I will decide to do whatever it takes in getting therapy for myself and my family, to begin teaching respect for the welfare of others and appreciate the most precious right of safety in every home, in our personal circles and to openly discuss this basic freedom in all possible settings. We can influence the life of our friends, our neighbors, and our community leaders. We can absolutely insist that this topic of recovery for our society as a whole begin to be addressed as a Human Recovery in our political agendas and who we put into office in our governments. We can begin holding others responsible for their choices to harm, just as we are responsible for our actions and reactions.

Our human brain, emotional development, attitudes, beliefs, traditions, even violence, rage, sexual behaviors, anxieties, fears, actions and reactions are an affect of what we have lived in and been taught to accept; the creed we live by in our close circles; inside our homes and teach inside our schools.

Teach Positive Life behaviors

Reach out for life so you can grow.

Spread your wings to release your sorrow.

Fly strong to reach the stars

Show the world how beautiful you are

❤ Life Strong & Fly Free ❤

Believe as the Butterflies; ‘Believe Anything Is Possible with You in the Active Equation’

Thank you for reading & I hope you’ll share, comment, post, discuss in casual conversation and begin to live in your own true freedom & recovery today.

Patricia A McKnight

Author; ‘My Justice’

Creator: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

www.blogtalkradio.com/voicesInjusticeRadio

 

How is one trained to become the perfect lifetime victim of abuse

butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com/patriciamcknightsmyjustice.

Welcome to the introduction of Patricia A. McKnight. Today a powerful speaker & strong advocate, but once a victim for more than 30 years of her life. Incredible right, why would anyone remain a victim of this violence and disgusting degradation for so long? It all started at five, I was trained to become the perfect victim, the perfect long lasting accepting and tolerating of these vicious and vile attacks. You may know a child whose life is so horrifying on the inside they are becoming the next perfectly trained victim. Help is just a phone call away, change your views about what our society has been teaching in the control of silence & secrets these past centuries. Connect with ‘Trish’ and arrange speaking for your next event. facebook.com/triciagirl62

EMAIL – trish.mcknight@live.com

 

Dear Mr. President…..I am a Child Sex Trafficking Survivor

Attn; Mr. President Obama                                            Sept 30, 2014

The White House                                                               Patricia A. McKnight

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW                                   

Washington, DC 20500 62230

 

Dear Mr. President,

Permit me a few moments of your precious time, first to give my support for the policies you have implemented throughout your terms in Presidency and your continued drive to be the President who provides a true change in our society. This being said Sir, I would like to personally thank you for your recognition of Human Trafficking Awareness & Prevention; also in assuring our justice systems hold these monsters accountable in strict punishments.

I am an Adult Child Sex Trafficking survivor, where the many years of endured suffering and vicious, disgusting attacks, were committed by those entrusted with my care; my mother & stepfather. You see sir, I grew up in the small Southwestern Illinois town of Freeburg during 1970’s. I was five when they first married and I instantly became his property. My mother had given me to him, much the same as giving him any sort of object. For the next 12 years I was his to do with as he pleased and it didn’t end until I left home at 17, but even then he continued to stalk his prey like a lion.

Freeburg was a small town of about 1500 citizens at the time I lived there, which was from 1972 until 1981. Our family always lived in the center of town and my older brother, younger sister, and myself all attended the Freeburg Public School System. Throughout my many years in expected family slavery, even to the point of answering the ring of their little brass bell; there were many witnesses and those who took part in his vile public exploitation and trafficking of the young girl I used to be. I have gone decades trying to heal, change, and erase the person my parents created, but these dark wounds leave a lasting impression and this passes on through dysfunctional parenting in our children’s lives.

The trafficking itself started at about age 11 and lasted for six long years. This included parties at our house with me given as the prize. These late night parties included many of the adult men he worked with; husbands married to my mother’s friends, but she simply walked into her bedroom and closed the door on her pleading child. There were also weekend parties with schoolmates, teen boys lured in with alcohol and marijuana, and of course the young girl as the party favor. Many of these boys knew me, they saw me in school everyday, but they were the sons who were never allowed to date me for fear of being condemned by the entire community. By the time I was 13, the village of Freeburg had given a tag name for me which I cannot repeat in this letter for you.

The most difficult for me to process in my years of recovery, was the complete abandonment by the entire system which should have said something to protect me at some point. The many neighbors & family friends who knew of the evil within my family home, yet despite the severe scarring neglect of filth and infection of sores which covered my body and the broken black fanged teeth covered with plaque from never being given a toothbrush or any form of medical or dental care; still there was not a single person who felt it necessary to make a call for help on my behalf. I still carry the physical and emotional scars today from all the evil that was my daily existence.

The life I lived in my childhood made a huge impact in what I deemed was my self worth and what I continued to tolerate in my adult life, the pattern of self destruction and tolerating almost deadly beatings from the boyfriends and husbands to follow for over the next 20 years; all because I didn’t believe that anyone would ever care or that any service would have helped me and my children rebuild our lives. My life was like no other; it was a life I begged God to end for decades. The greatest regret I carry today is that I didn’t get the help I needed to recover from all these traumas early enough to prevent the home filled with violence from invading my children’s lives. This is how the cycle continues as the emotional dysfunctions in harmed parents then passes on into their children’s lives; then their grandchildren. Sir, there are millions out there like me, today we are finally finding the courage to speak up  about the many painful abuses which are often tolerated within the family unit. Sadly when our society silences the survivors of these abuses, we continue to teach silence of these crimes to our children; leaving them to protect their family abuser and live without hope of support, healing, and recovery, thus impacting the lives of yet another generation of human beings in pain and dysfunction.

Your work Mr. President & the ongoing mission in providing resources, support, awareness and prevention strategies is the greatest reward possible for our next generation. These past ten years I’ve finally been safe, but in the aftermath of all those committed acts I am  left with permanent disabling injuries to my spine, constant migraines, dysfunction in my hands, feet, and entire chronic body pain. It saddens me to know I did all of the hard work to rebuild a life with my children and provide them an example of a safe loving home; a home with the four of us working together in learning to live a life without harm. I also held a sustainable career in the business field and graduated valedictorian which permitted me to support their needs and buy a home we could call ours. Tragic as it may be, these past five years I have been forced to give it all up and accept a life on Medicare as a direct result of all the endured trauma; however there is no one held responsible for the growing cost of my care or the expensive medications to ease the pain.

My greatest accomplishments in my healing and continued efforts to help others include many training sessions in Sexual Assault, Interpersonal/Family Violence, testing to be a Human Trafficking Awareness Trainer, achieved my 40hr Domestic Violence Advocate Training, and did two years of a featured web based talk radio program discussing these issues and providing self help tools to assist others. I’ve personally coached/mentored more than 100 persons who endured many of the same vicious types of abuses, some trafficking survivors like myself. I’ve published a brief look into my life in the title, ‘My Justice’ which has been used as a teaching guide at La Sierra University in California and have received many outstanding reviews from amazing readers around the world and human services advocates. I have also been invited to be part of the FBI Southwestern Illinois Partnership Providers Against Human Trafficking and a base member in re-establishing the Illinois Victims Assistance Network; also to include many speaking engagements in awareness & prevention of the crimes which are often tolerated inside the family unit.

Please keep up your efforts Mr. President and know how important they are. I cannot tell you enough just how many lives will be saved as a result. I pray we are able to provide Child Sexual Abuse Prevention Education in every small school system & law enforcement agency across the country and make sure to penalize any person who takes part in or watches/hears these attacks against any other person and refuses to make that call for help. It is the duty of every responsible adult to report these types of crimes and only these strong measures will empower every person to believe there is help, they can live safe, and that no one is ever abandoned in such evil existence again.

In closing Mr. President, thank you for your drive & mission to help create the beginning change in our society. I will support these efforts no matter which office you may hold when this term is completed. In the deepest respect,  I will keep you and your amazing example of an incredible family in my prayers. One day I truly have to believe that we can provide a unit of resources for every family who has a person suffering in some form of bullying, abuse, violence and the most evil of all; the sex trafficking of our children by those entrusted with their care. Not one single being should ever know this pain or carry the horrific & terrifying memories of these acts.

In Respect & Support,

Sincerely,

Patricia A McKnight

Breese, Clinton County, Illinois

Author: ‘My Justice’

Advocate/Human Trafficking Awareness Trainer

Founder: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Can you hear the children screaming???

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coverkindle.jpgThese are pictures of my past, but now have become pictures of my present day life. Yes, the Breese Journal, Belleville News Democrat, and even KSDK News 5 have all done articles or have shared video from local speaking events. Today even the FBI Victims Services & Citizens Academy have recognized what I am doing here locally (Clinton County Illinois) and as a Trainer in Human Trafficking, Certified Domestic Violence Advocate, Child Abuse Prevention Specialist, and ‘Steps to Recovery’ presenter; what I do to help others is a constant area of work for me today. It is crucial, as in URGENT we begin paying attention to what goes on in our surroundings and circles. There is not enough we can do independently in everyday concern and respect for another, which will outweigh what has been passed on throughout centuries in the acts of domination over another.

My story is one which comes from a life growing up in Freeburg, Illinois during the years from 1970 through 1980, a period of ten years as a child living in a publicly displayed nightmare of horrific abuse, child sex trafficking with community members; actually husbands and sons who were co-workers of my stepfather, schoolmates of my brothers, and directly related to some of my mother’s best friends. The actions of my stepfather were never hidden, as my mother and stepfather truly didn’t care, who did or didn’t know, about how they used and tortured this one middle child in their care. There were so many individuals who were involved with or knew about how I was being used that I can’t even remember how many hands have touched me. Many times I’ve been hit with memories and even shared some of the direct evils inflicted in the true story written in ‘My Justice’. What’s worse however is what has been triggered in my subconscious by permitting myself to travel back in time to reveal the ugly family secrets I’ve carried throughout my life. Those who know me from this town remember little things here and there. Schoolmates have contacted me after reading ‘My Justice’ and all share remorse about what they as children, didn’t recognize, but they remember how my parents used me, isolated me in family responsibilities that went as far as to answering the ring of that little brass bell. Some have contacted me and stated ‘I knew something was going on, but Trish, I had no clue how vicious the life you spent in that home really was.’ Sadly the adults who know my parent’s and, especially my stepfather,only one or two have reached out with words of sorrow or statement about any of what I wrote in being untrue.

Even my own mother, who is still alive, has asked but a few questions, the most ridiculous of those is, ‘How would you like me to talk about a few SECRETS about you?” Thanks Mother, that statement in and of itself validates everything I’ve shared about all that happened and what YOU took part in the training of your little girl whom you helped develop as his forced child whore. How dare you Mother? Do you see what you have done to your child? Do you see just how ugly and brutally neglecting you were? You threatened to SUE me; REALLY MOTHER!!! Step up and claim yourself as being my mother, the mother of all mothers who would allow such evil against one of your own children, but hell you never really cared about any of them!! All you were worried about was the fact you had someone to put a truly evil roof and dysfunctional views for your children. Why was I the only one you allowed him to target in these evil acts? Why was he not ever put in jail? Why didn’t some of your circle of ‘FRIENDS’ ever say a word, or what excuse did you give them for their questions? You probably told them you were the VICTIM. All you ever focused your attention on was what you wanted to make you happy. You knew you could make him do anything, or was I part of that bargain? I hope these questions reach you, since you will not permit me any form of concern or apology, you have given me VALIDATION and for that I guess I can do nothing but at least thank you for that.” your daughter, ‘Trecia Ann’ – Now I am a published author, now I have even developed my own source of business as prevention and awareness, support and information for all those communities today. Are you proud of me yet mother?

Today I find it also validating to hear from others who knew me as a kid, who share with me statements their parents made, such as; ‘I always wondered why that man was so mean with that little girl’, ‘I remember how he used to always take her with him out drinking and hanging out at the bars’. In truth, I was the girl their sons were not allowed to date and their daughters were not permitted to befriend. I was the girl that the boys, groups of them, knew they could come to, either one on one or together, to use in games of ‘Post Office’ where each one had a chance to see how far they could go and just exactly what I would allow them to do with me. There is one childhood friend who started reading ‘My Justice’ and when they got to the part about the one time I spent the night at a slumber party and the only nightgown I had was the see-through little cotton gown purchased by my stepfather at ‘Victoria Secrets’, which my mother permitted him to buy as a gift for me. Well, this friend had to throw the book down and was sickened by what suddenly became the reality of the girl she knew so well. At this time I was just twelve years old, it was his favorite age; the age where my body started to grow into a young woman, the breasts changing and pubic hair just starting to grow. It makes me sick as I think back on it even at this very moment.

Malcolm, ‘Walter in the book’, which I changed names to protect siblings; however, not a single sibling will even talk to me today. My brother condemned me a long time ago, at least ten years ago and has not spoken a word to me since. He only sees my stepfather’s trained whore when he looks at me, says my actions make him sick because I do not live up to the standards of his perfect little life. My younger sister, used to connect and was willing to talk with me about how dysfunctional our home was as a result of the severe alcoholism and mental health disorders in our parents unfolded. She would discuss her emotions of how it was for her after I left, when she was just nine. I say to them both, ‘Neither of my siblings have endured anything remotely close to the harm they witnessed against me.’  Its validating enough for you to discuss the raging alcoholic who was so vicious and the parties, which kept her awake all night.

Mona, ‘Shirley in the book’, is the mother who turned against her own child and abandoned her in the evil of his touch. She has read ‘My Justice’ and repeatedly tried to reach out and talk with me, threatened to sue me, and worst of all; ‘How would you like it if I went around a told a few secrets I knew about you? How about if I tell them how I used to have to go searching for you dirty clothes? How about if I tell them about the boy who climbed through your bedroom window and caught you having sex with him at just thirteen?’ She has not once apologized, she has never denied any of it at all. When she found out about the time he shut me up forever by using his favorite shotgun barrel to take my virginity while my brother and sister lay downstairs watching their favorite show; all she had to say was ‘That sounds like something that sick son-of-a-bitch would do’. She admits that she was warned by his own son from his first marriage about how evil and disgusting he was, yet she chose to marry him and allow him complete control over just one of her children, her young daughter who was just then five years old.

It was a lifetime of haunting by a monster. He would prowl around in the dark like a lion hunting his prey. He would beat me for having boyfriends, and stalk me even after I had grown up, had children, moved out and gone through my first divorce. He even hunted me down to smash my head against the truck window and dash, drag me across the very public street, call me every name he could think of as the neighbors watched and did nothing. The boyfriend I was dating, whose father’s house we were at, simply said; ‘He’s here for you, outside screaming your name. You really have to go now.’ This man preyed again when I was forty years old, had just lost everything I had due to an illness (Pulmonary Embolism), which caused me to be out of work and depend on credit only to take care of my children; well I ended up at my mother’s house to stay in her basement till I was able to get settled again. Guess what happened, guess who prowled around outside the basement shower room which I was told I absolutely had to use, because her bathroom with a lock on the door was completely off limits? She told me he couldn’t climb down those stairs anymore. The bed I was supposed to sleep in was the very same bed I had used as a young teen, even had the same yellow lace bedspread. She would not permit her granddaughter who desperately wanted to travel with me; Mother simply stated; ‘I am not responsible for anything that might happen, so don’t you start your shit’. SHE KNEW!!!! Mother has never denied a single event or action of her neglect for all basic human necessities. She never apologized and in fact there was one slip of the tongue when she stated, ‘You got the life you deserved’, ha-ha really Mother????

You see, I am the one left today with many broken parts still inside. I doubt they will ever fully be able to heal, and some well the scars are so deeply embedded there is no magic surgery from any specialist around that can give me back any sense of normalcy as I look at my reflection everyday. You’ll see in this brief video the horrifying skin which covers my body today. I am left with scars inside and out that will never be able to be erased or healed, the child they tried to destroy and the one an entire community allowed to simply rot away. You will be horrified by this brief video – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Rpt_oHU5NM The Rot of Abuse, uploaded by Patricia A. McKnight

We as a society continue to ignore the hundreds, thousands who are sharing stories of evil today. You can search the net and find video after video, story after story, of lives destroyed and many who are now so extremely wounded by these acts they cannot even be parents to their children. Some so broken into actual separate personalities developed to protect them from the extreme trauma they endured. I ask you all, media, literary agents, book promoters, local press, organizations who defend children or rescue them; ‘When will all of this be enough to create a society strict on its punishments and supportive in recognition of the surviving souls today?” Help share the many stories today; let no child suffer in silence and become your own defender of children. Allow their screams of mercy and rescue be heard!!!! Our children are not expendable, they are not sex objects, they are not household slaves to be beaten and tortured for the slightest infraction. They are person’s waiting for us to lead them through growing to become the next generation in charge of our society. Let the monsters be known and protect our country’s children as one united force against these types of evil. No more can we ignore their screams, their tears, their secrets being shared today.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I pray there is a path for ‘My Justice’ and the many other survivors who are finally speaking out for their freedom and their recovery today.

Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight

Owner/CEO Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Author: My Justice’  READ THE FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS COMPLETELY FREE!!!!

Mentor/Crisis Resources/Speaker/Child Abuse Prevention & Steps to Recovery Trainer Member: Southwestern Illinois Human Trafficking Task Force Board Development Member: Illinois Victims Assistance Network (I.V.A.N.)

(c) Patricia A McKnight

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery Sept. 2012

bdarbanner_thumb.jpg

art via www.michalmadisonart.com

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS, IT IS POSSIBLE TO SEEK & RECEIVE HELP, PLEASE RESCUE YOU TODAY!!

Working through your recovery and understanding your trauma, here are some great daily steps you can use to take back your power!!!  Artwork via Michal Madison Art!!

Author Bio; Patricia A. McKnight

picture019          IMG_6807          MyJustice

Author, Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight, may be a child from our past generations but she is using her extremely evil childhood to inspire parents & communities to provide resources of help & healing for all persons dealing with some form of past or present abuse, violence and/or trafficking issues today.

Ms. McKnight, is of those souls who has endured a lifetime in a trained tolerance, almost an expected acceptance of evil, throughout more than thirty years of her life. In her adult relationships there were repeated abusers who terrorized, controlled, and even tried to take her life many times, but yet she never left them. What was it that kept her in this hell? Why didn’t she leave?

This incredibly strong survivor speaks today, through many venues and platforms; explaining how she was a ‘trained’ child who had been taught to expect nothing different. Even when she finally realized she deserved kindness and love, she still didn’t believe there were resources to help her and her children rebuild and recover from the endured painful years of trauma.

Her story has been compared to the New York Times Best Seller, ‘A Child Called It’, by the amazing Dave Pelzer. The extreme evil against this one incredible soul has been used by Dr. Brenda Markert-Green as a teaching guide to her students through Le Sierra University’s Online Psychology course for upcoming therapists. Dr. Markert-Green has shared, ‘The memoir ‘My Justice’ gave my students a secret window into the soul of one child, woman, mother who kept searching for peace and love, but instead found only one violent abuser after another. It allowed my students to connect deeply with her inner battles from the trauma and how desperately she just wanted to give her children the best; however her wounded spirit could not find the right path. My students were completely swept away by the ongoing years of trauma and the destructive behaviors it left behind.’

Trapped inside her own private hell for decades, Ms. McKnight, has finally found her courage and freedom. She published her years filled with unbelievable horror in the memoir ‘My Justice’. A book she says is so disturbing she wishes she would have put a warning label for others. As one of the other survivors who read & reviewed this story stated so well, ‘It was as if the child opened up to finally tell the world her story, and all in one breath it just fell out onto the pages.’

An exquisitely written journey to find safety, love, and happiness; ‘My Justice’ is an intense read. The pages are filled with both a child’s crying nightmare and a spirit who just could never give up. You’re raw emotions will be ignited. You will scream, be outraged, cry, and cheer her on as she stumbles in a trance-like acceptance of hell. Your views of these actions against our children and our partners, will certainly be changed forever. You will feel the need to do something now!!

‘These actions, which we’ve been taught to hold in secret within our family unit, are life altering. Studies have been done over and over again that reveal the Complex P.T.S.D. Syndrome, which is often diagnosed; is at the same levels of our returning veterans. We herald them, their families support them, guide them, and the resources keep building to help them recover. However, when you say you carry the Complex P.T.S.D. Syndrome from being a ‘prisoner of war’ within your own home, and especially as a child who can never fight back and doesn’t have a weapon or any mode of protection; it is then society somehow tags you with a Mental Illness and discards you, but yet you must maintain a life and professional career as if nothing happened; you cannot seek retribution or financial benefits due to ongoing battles with Statute of Limitations; victims are left to struggle and find their own support system of those who will even believe them and help them see what life & love is really about.’

‘How can we expect our children to flourish in their lives, when we are turning away from the voices of those crying out for our help? They need and deserve our support, after all their HOME may be filled with some of the most evil actions including torture, rape, and trafficking.’

Ms. Patricia McKnight

Today Ms. McKnight is a voice heard across the web on her own Butterfly Dreams Talk Radio ‘Featured’ broadcast through the Blog Talk Network. She’s founded the not for profit organization of Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery and speaks whenever invited to include such venues as; Community Churches, Rallies for Awareness, Key Note Speaker for Rescue & Restore, part of a panel for St. Clair County’s Domestic Violence Reform Program, and gave a two hour presentation at the Prosecuting Attorney’s Association of Michigan at their Annual Victim’s Advocate Training Seminar in Bay City.

This survivor has come a 1000 miles from the victim she once was. It is the need to end the cycle moving forward within her own family, which continues to be her drive and strength, but it is the survivors she mentors and those who have friended her and supported her journey that she gives the highest respect & gratitude. In her own words she shares their mission; ‘Connecting Hearts & Holding Hands to give our children a better world tomorrow.’

You can connect with ‘Trish’ throughout many of our social & professional sites. You are also invited to check out the fully developed website at www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com or listen to her on the talk radio network at www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamstalkradio. You will find ‘My Justice’ , along with its many reviews, available through Authorhouse.com, Amazon.com, BN.com, and almost all other leading online book resources. Her hope is to get this book read by other college students who are studying to be future educators, therapists, psychiatrists, & psychologists. It is recommended by the Highly Accommodated Five Star Reviews from Teaching Mentors & Therapists, Advocates & Survivors.

A closing message from this Author/Mentor/Speaker/Radio Host/Survivor; Founder & CEO of Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery,

‘Always believe anything is possible with you in the active equation’

Positive Affirmations:

You deserve as much love as you freely give to others

You deserve a safe place to lay down your head at night

Your deserve respect, kindness, happiness, compassion

You deserve roses in your garden of life!!

Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight

Email: butterflydreams@live.com

Available for Speaking, Research, Crisis Support & Resource Assistance

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Set backs of being a trafficking survivor

There are many different areas of being a survivor of hell which I’ve written about these past three years. In many writings throughout this entire blog you will find writings dealing with all the puzzle pieces we need to examine and shape into our present day lives. You’ll also find many writings which focus on the depression, P.T.S.D., anxiety, finding your center to begin your healing path, the anger which still comes and goes, and the severe neglect of all medical and dental care which has left me so tragically scarred.

However there is an area which still holds me back and one I haven’t focused on much, THE TRAFFICKING OF THE CHILD I USED TO BE!!

This is the process of stealing away who we are and ripping away any sense of value as they use us for trading, manipulation, and offer us out as an object without care of how we feel or what it does to our inner being. It all went along with complete disregard for all of my other care & feelings. It was also a huge part of what my small little community of Freeburg witnessed and knew about, yet chose not to be bothered, because as always ‘I simply was not worth the effort’.

When my stepfather started using me to entice the other men in our little village of Freeburg, Illinois; it was my 11th birthday. It was this day that I began feeling like nothing more than HIS OBJECT. Yes the molestations were actually just an insertion away from being rape at that point, and yes he was a regular visitor  who attacked almost nightly as I lay in the same bed next to his own little girl and Mother just a thin wall away.

On this particular day, I was taken to the bar where Mother worked through the week and a family acquaintance who had been at our house with his own wife and young girls was bartending. They made sure I was drunk with double shots of vodka in a small glass of orange juice that day, one right after the other to celebrate my big #11. It was the first time he offered me out to a young miner. Thank heaven this guy was decent enough to say ‘No, she’s just a kid’. However, Malcolm banged my head off the dashboard of the car when we went outside and repeatedly growled at me, ‘You’re a fucking ugly bitch that’s why nobody wanted you in there’. This would not be his only or his last attempt. The one thing he found out that trip is that when he got me drunk he could manipulate me into using my body in a sexually enticing way to attract the attention of men and then they would continue buying the drinks.

Ah Ha, a way to get drunk for free!!!

Oh yeah, I didn’t get my birthday that day at all. Mother was so furious he kept me out so long that she chased the girls home from the party, stormed up the street to yank me out of the car; yelled at me during the two blocks we walked home, and sent me straight to my room. Hmmm, again I was being punished, just as it had been when I was 9 and she walked in from work early to find him ready to insert his penis into her naked little girl lying next to him in their bed; the girl so terrified that tears were running down her cheeks. Yet I was always the bad girl, the one to blame for what he did.

Really Mother????

It was just shortly after this experience at the bar when I was first taken out to the barge boat with a crew of about 10 young men. These guys enjoyed the entertainment Malcolm had brought them. All I knew that day was he had told Mother he was taking me fishing. We picked up a couple cases of beer and we drove down some back rode that took us to the edge of the Mississippi where this barge boat was anchored. It was in the middle of nowhere. There were not any barges around this tug boat was moving. There was just this small wooden dock which was shaky, seemed unstable. The boat was parked along the water’s edge with green grass and a big ol’ tree hanging there filled with beautiful green leaves. I remember getting on the boat, although it took some help from one of the guys because I’d already drank down about three full beers he had handed me during our drive. He used the excuse he was taking me fishing quite a bit. It was a staple he could always get away with and she never asked me if I wanted to go or why I didn’t want to go, she just simply sent me along as if to send me out of her hair for the day.

I always guess my teen ages during these events by means of what happened BEFORE he used his favorite shotgun barrel to rape me, and AFTER he used his favorite shotgun barrel to rape me.

This particular day spent with the barge boat guys was before, so I wasn’t yet close to 13 and my body was still quite small and under developed. I think back on these events and remember having more than one set of hands groping and probing me. I remember more than one penis being rubbed against my mouth and having to hold onto them, just like he had taught me to do with him. However, what I remember most are the faces of these young men, the many men. I can always remember the faces even if I didn’t know their names.

Malcolm enjoyed every moment watching me there with those grown men. He enjoyed them getting me high and feeding me more and more booze. He enjoyed them blasting a stereo with rock music, which he always hated unless it was for one of these types of ‘special days’. I believe they had an 8track with the Rolling Stones playing in the background. I remember it was making every bone in my body hurt as they banged away. If you remember the early Stones, it was actually pretty heavy during the mid 70’s as were most bands back then. However, the Stones have always been pretty recognizable by their music. To this day I cannot stand to hear their music because it takes me right back to that boat and again I feel the many men surrounding me from every angle.

There were at least three trips to that barge boat I remember, but the faces were not always the same. Most of the men looked to be shaggy, grungy, and about their around their late 20’s to early 30’s. I remember being terrified. I remember quite clearly not knowing what was going to happen, or who was going to do what. I remember not knowing who was behind me and not being able to focus clearly. This may have been my body dissociating because it was too traumatic or it may have been caused from the drugs or alcohol.

Lord only knows what they were feeding me to lower my ability to fight back and make a child so drunk she just fell into their arms.

There was the night I was ordered to have the party while he took Mother out of the house. Malcolm picked out what I was supposed to wear. He told me what boys I needed to invite and then gave me the instructions on how to start playing spin the bottle and allow them all to grope and take me into my bedroom upstairs. This happened on more than one occasion that would always lead to playing Post Office and I was the only piece of mail to handle.

I remember the school mates who lined up to receive the blow jobs or were ordered to take me into the next room and “give me the fucking I deserved”!!! I remember two school friends of my brother’s whom I thought I could trust as friends. Upon their invitation I went for a cruise to smoke a joint. The next thing I knew we were parked on the back rode, I’m thrown down in the backseat of the car with one of teens on top of me and my zipper broken as he ripped off my jeans. I remember well the face of the other guy as he stayed on the front seat with his head turned back, watching and cheering on as his buddy plugged away and I was crying for help. The guy in front was one my brother had been hanging out with for about four years or more, so they were pretty close friends; otherwise I never would have gone with them in the first place. He looked me straight in the eye while his buddy raped me and then told me what a ‘rotten fuck’ I was. ‘How disgusting I was and why did he think I would be worth fucking in the first place’.

These are the types of rapes and orgy type of events that were such a huge part of my teen years. Most of them took place after the rape via shotgun barrel, but it certainly didn’t make them any less traumatic. As I got older it became more difficult for me to be lured into the parties because I was finally working and did my best to be gone as much as possible, especially if I could work late shift at the cloak room of the restaurant. Thank heaven for work because it became my way to escape it all. I didn’t have to be at home slaving for them if I was working. I didn’t have to be available to attend the late night parties if I could work instead. Malcolm and I began fighting each other constantly.

I’m not so sure just how much my brother and sister knew about all of the parties, rapes, orgies, but I know they knew about the beatings and the molestations from Malcolm himself. Either way they too were just children and trapped in the same alcoholic daily fueled home I was in, so I wouldn’t have expected them to do anything for my rescue even if they had the chance. I know there were a few times when my adopted brother John protected me, which happened more so after my other brother went off to the army at 17. John was still living at the house mainly because he really didn’t have anyone else who wanted to claim him as their son. Mother opened her house up to any child that needed a place to sleep, eat, rest, call home for awhile or just needed some form of kindness. Funny though, she didn’t give a crap about what was happening to her own daughter. Anyone could do anything and she would call me the whore for allowing it to happen. 

My God, what would it take for her to just see me as her little girl, her daughter, her flesh & blood, the child she created and carried, gave birth to and cared for; at least until the man she married began attacking me while she was home, in the next room, giving me away, parading me as if I was some type of treasure for others to use. A treasure which only he could determine who and what they did to me. A treasure he could force or coerce into whatever situation suited his sadistic pleasures at that time.

These days there is a lot of excellent work I’ve done in my healing from being a sexually abuse, raped & molested, beaten & tortured child. However, there is also a lot of accepting in what my body has been put through with the many other men. How do you tell people that before you were 17, you have no idea how many teen boys & grown men had used your body for sex?. How do you tell people about how they were multiples at once, not just a guy here or there? How do you explain to people that when you look them in the face, knowing they know all about your past, you’re terrified of what judgment passes through their mind?

So many had used me one way or the other, orally or raped, and then told me I was like screwing a dog or a horse. I wasn’t worthy of them even admitting they had sex with me. I can understand the older men in our little community, because I was just a kid and they were paying Malcolm to come to the parties so they could feel up the child who was forced to drink, get high, and be their entertainment; all while Mother sat in her bedroom watching TV and giving me a snide  ‘Have Fun’ as she closed the door.

Its bad enough to accept that you have no clue how many men there were throughout those years. Its horrifying to know that I barely escaped as Malcolm wanted to put me up in my own little trailer; have his own little private lock with his own little private key; so we could have all the little private parties he wished and invite as many as would pay!!

Sadly, I’m not so sure that what’s been swirling around in my head lately is because I’ve been looking more into working directly with some anti-trafficking advocates & task force rescuers, or if its because I’ve been pushing myself to promote the book? Anytime I start putting myself out there on display, be it in promoting the book; or really, doing anything that brings the attention and focus to my special anything, I instantly start hearing all of those voices saying to me; ‘What a dirty, ugly, rotten fuck I was and they had no clue why they thought I would be worth their time or money.’ As I got older it would be boyfriends & husbands who smashed my head into the mirror while screaming about how ugly I was and why in the hell did they end up with me?

All of these condemning words accompanied any type of vulnerable position I might have been in and today as I’m reaching out with some focus on me and on the book, I am right back there again and it’s like a jagged knife ripping away at the healing I’ve built up to protect me.

How and when does it end? When will all that they have done to me be over and all their evil have passed through my spirit so that I can truly be on the other side? Why is it that during all those horrific teen years of my life did not one person ever feel like I was worth saving? What was it about the blue eyed child that made me such an outcast by all of those around me? Was it the rot of my skin, the stench of my body, the broken black fangs of my teeth? Was it the evil of Malcolm and his wicked games?

Maybe one day I will get my answer, but truly I’m not so sure that will ever come. As I’ve said, this has been eating away inside this past couple weeks and I feel like, as one dear friend put it so well, ‘Like Trecia Ann is screaming I’m alive and no one is listening, no one feels that I am worthy once again.’

What a tragedy life can be at times. How horrible the feelings of being a sex trafficked child and knowing in your heart that so many knew and chose to do nothing. How am I supposed to feel about all of it now? Angry, yes I am, but trying hard not to express it. Who would I express it too, there is no way to address all those who took part, witnessed, or just didn’t give a damn. Malcolm is gone now and Mother made sure he was buried with full military honors. Mother is out of my life and we haven’t spoken but a few hateful words in the past five years. None of my siblings want anything to do with me at all, and that was way before the book went public or before I even thought about writing it at all. Who should receive the anger, myself for what I took part in with the alcohol and weed, cocaine and a few downers? Could I have escaped any earlier than I did? Could I have done something to stop it all from happening? Was I that trained to just simply obey or did I know the beating may not be survived if I turned them all down and started screaming?

I’m not so sure what to think of myself now. I’m not so sure how others will accept this when they read it. However, something tells me much like my writing to help those molested and raped by their parents and others, this too is a way they will be able to feel and process another part of their own pain. I’m taking a huge chance at putting this out there, I can only imagine what whispers will be shared. However, in my healing and building a new life for myself, one without shame and without pain, this is a part of the process I must work through. Let’s pray that it reaches those it should. That it helps just one young person who has been forced to endure these same types of vicious crimes. Maybe someday it will all be done and I will then simply be able to just be me and just be happy.

‘I am screaming, I am alive, I do matter!!

Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight          promoblkwht.jpg

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Author: ‘My Justice’

©Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery 2012 

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamstalkradio