We all need inspiration…..

Sharing this Beautiful power of HOPE!!!

Today I will do my best. If I have a good day, I will be proud of myself. If I have a bad day, I will not dwell on it. I will forgive myself, I will put it behind me and I will continue to move forward.

Written by Inspirational Quotes on January 9, 2016. Posted in Attitude Quotes, Happiness Quotes, Inspiring Quotes, Life Lessons, Life Quotes, Motivational Quotes,Positive Quotes, Quotes, Self Improvement Quotes, Self Motivation Quotes, Self Respect Quotes

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Today I will do my best. If I have a good day, I will be proud of myself. If I have a bad day, I will not dwell on it. I will forgive myself, I will put it behind me and I will continue to move forward.

 

I’ve been so out of touch again. Is it the holidays? Is it the family chaos? Is it the physical chronic pain? Is it because I am trying to find guidance in what I NEED to do next? How do we make our life happen in some good fashion of function and survival? There is what I CAN do, and then what I CANNOT? Remember the prayer of ‘God grant me the strength, the courage, and the knowledge’; this is what we can only hope to feel inside ourselves each day.

If we hang onto HOPE or FAITH, whichever higher power or Creator you believe is guiding our life; this belief gives us guidance. It kind of keeps us going so that we never give up, that we never stop trying in OUR LIFE to get it right. We have two choices each morning, one is to figure out what we need in order to get through to the next step tomorrow, or we can give up and live with nothing inside us but pain and sadness. Living with the deep WAIT for someone else to come along and fix things for us; however, no one can do for us. You only become completely dependent on that person to provide food, water, money, cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, or whatever become the crutch we use to bury the sadness and the ‘should have done that’ thoughts.

I honestly have learned to live with a plan to survive each day; even now when I’m not at my best, but I still try to reach for something ALMOST everyday. In my heart I wish I could learn to live in the moment, but it seems there is so much chaos that keeps popping up and this makes it quite a challenge to be light, positive, strong, to keep believing, to keep reaching. This is where we all have to learn our own way, and walk our own choices. There comes a time in EVERY PERSON’S LIFE, when we have to say: ‘Now it is my bad choices that have brought me to where I am, so something inside ME must change. I will not always have someone else in my life to make sure that I’m warm, that I’m fed, that I’m held tight in comfort; always depending on someone else to FIX my mess again.

TODAY AND TOMORROW – I MUST SURVIVE.

Let go of the past sorrow, at least enough to allow some light to come forward in tomorrow. We cannot sit with blame, but only commit to ourselves that regardless of where we must start today; my choices are mine and the road goes two different ways; today is a new start and yesterday is gone; HOPE, FAITH, STRENGTH, COURAGE, BELIEF – this is what we must see in the mirror as we take our life’s lived knowledge so far to set out our choices each day. At some point it is our own responsibility to survive & to figure out the puzzle of our beginning mess to put things back and FIX IT ourselves. LIVE!! Never ever give up!!!

Voices InJustice Radio – School is back in session – Education in America 08/16 by Voices InJustice Radio | Current Events Podcasts

Voices InJustice Radio – School is back in session – Education in America 08/16 by Voices InJustice Radio | Current Events Podcasts.

Set your reminder friends, TEACHERS, PARENTS & TEENS – You’re invited to join in as we open the discussion about our American Educational System!! What are your concerns as kids return to school? Are their Racial Issues; Low Income Meals; After School Activities; Are kids getting a positive learning environment with the support from teachers & school officials? Do you worry about teachers possibly harming or sexually approaching your child? Would they tell you if it happened? School Violence is on the increase and today’s children deal with constant harassment, bullying, and online condemnation everyday. Their struggles today are unlike any other generation, are you prepared and do you have a relationship which encourages your child or teen to openly discuss their challenges? JoinPatricia A. Mcknight live Sunday evening at 9pm central time for your Voices InJustice discussing our American School Systems. Don’t forget to invite your friends & family to call in live or join the chatroom discussion. There’s a lot we need to address to ensure ALL CHILDREN & FAMILIES are given the open support they deserve to protect our children’s education. Looking forward to hearing music by Marc Joseph Ludeman!!!

Won’t you be sure to join us??

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 

Family Crimes Act–Trecia’s Law

 

Hi Readers,

We changed the name but not the measures. No one approved of the name ‘Family Terrorist Act’ – so we changed it to ‘Family Crimes Act’. However, we still hold firm in our guidelines and measures to introduce the acts of ‘terroristic’ abuse.

Read, Sign, Share & Promote 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

Don’t you ever get fed up of the way abusive, violent and/or sexual problems keep harming persons inside your family, your continued bloodline? How many of us have kids suffering in bad relationships, harmful marriages, personally destructive acts such as; drugs, alcohol, mental health problems and other such challenges. Does your family have a history of these dysfunctions? Perhaps your mother, father, brother, sister, grandparent have all dealt with either violence or sexual harm?  I don’t understand how so many of us have been terrorized by parents & family, but still our society turns away.

On average it was back in the early 1960’s we started reviewing and collecting data on these types of issues, although we certainly didn’t address the seriousness of the types of actions; nor have we addressed them as being crimes. However, there is constant overwhelming medical, financial, and prosecutorial challenges and burdens as a direct result of these crimes in our country alone; yet they seem to be the most lenient of punishments in our system. We call persons we DON’T know, who commit acts like this, MONSTERS. However, when it is a parent, family member, partner, spouse; we just turn away and tell our kids not to say anything to anyone about it. We tell them that even though these acts are some of the most horrific, graphic, and brutally detrimental; there is no need to address them, ‘just shut up and get over it already’.

How much longer are we willing to do this? How many more lives will be impacted by these life wounding, taught human cruelties? How many more will commit suicide or live as if death & destruction is what they deserve, because no one has ever seemed to care about just how bad it really was, or still is, for them? How much longer will it take for our society to be concerned enough to stand firm, stand united, and help those we know are suffering even if it’s just within YOUR FAMILY.

Illinois General Assembly Member, House Representative Jay Hoffman is ready to present one amendment from our drafted guidelines in the ‘Family Crimes Act’ – Trecia’s Law, in the April deliberations of House Bill 3242, Criminal Statutes 2012. In this bill is the added amendment changing Illinois Statute of Limitations for the criminal act of Involuntary Sexual Servitude, along with a barrage of other sexual crimes against a child.

  Illinois Statute of Limitations of sexual crimes against children, including Involuntary Sexual Servitude; changes from 1 year of victim’s 18th birthday – to 20 years from the date of victim’s 18th birthday.

This is a huge measure, finally our criminal system is addressing the intense impact on the victim’s ability to face the ongoing issues of enforced silence or disassociation to the severity of lifetime negative influence as a direct result of these types of ‘terroristic’ abuses. This change allows victim’s time to process trapped emotions from past Criminal Assaults, either physical, emotional, and/or sexual.

Please contact your Illinois Legislators today!! Let’s start right here, right where it happened against ‘Trecia Ann’ and so many others just like her.

 Tell your legislators to VOTE YES House Bill 3242.

Outside of Illinois, contact your Political Representatives and tell them we want to introduce Federal Law across the country to protect rights against Family Crimes, including and especially, the acts of ‘terroristic’ abuse.

 Tell Your Legislators –

One Federal Process of Prosecution & Policy Mandates across the country.

We have on average about 40 Million Adult Survivors, in the U.S. alone. This is estimated because we will never know just how many have been terrorized, shamed, or abandoned to carry dark secrets and life lived patterns of self destruction as a direct result of those which our family, friends, and community members have ignored throughout mankind’s history. We do not have to continue this path. We have a choice to Act in Protection or to Teach Tolerance & Silence. All we have to do is put our foot down; draw our line in the sand; absolutely stand united and strong as one human society to end this ongoing cycle, which is much like our own human cancer invading again and again, generation after generation. Will we continue to ask ‘Why does this have to hurt so many?’, or will we finally look that child in the face and ask; ‘What happened?’

What’s causing you to be so angry at everyone?

What’s causing you to be so sexually aggressive?

What’s causing you to hurt yourself with drugs, alcohol, cutting, and promiscuous behaviors?

What’s causing the increase of porn, criminal behaviors, drug addictions, learning disabilities, and chronic illnesses to invade all economic, geographic, races, religions, ages and genders of our society?

Learn about the growing challenges and the Multi Billion Dollar Annual Burden on our United States Financial Deficit, on average 140 Billion Dollars Every Year of taxpayer monies used in the lifetime prevention and recovery costs related to Child Abuse, Domestic/IP Violence, and Human Trafficking. Let’s put that money to good use and better direct exactly how funds are distributed to prosecute and assist in life skills training and fear related trauma recovery for victims and families who deal with these types of issues. Let’s educate ourselves and learn to connect the dots in our human history and the detrimental behaviors we continue to teach in the forced silence, societal acceptance, and refusal to address these harmful influences, even if its just to change things in your family.

Would you like to take our survey? – ‘Have you suffered terroristic abuse?’ http://goo.gl/forms/ZwoVYDs6fN

Here you’ll find a fabulous presentation we’ve developed from the past five years of studied information, along with the life long-lived in the generational impact of some of the most extremely detrimental and disgusting abuses, which some 200 persons or more have personally shared.

‘Family Crimes’ – the true human horror; presentation created by Patricia McKnight; supported by Dana Pfeiffer, Exec. Director Grounds of Grace and Lisa Chilton, Legal Advocacy Director Violence Prevention Center of SW Illinois. Helping to educate & initiate community awareness in the prevention and recovery services for those dealing with some type of negative impact from acts associated to Family Crimes or Terroristic Abuse. We will present for your employees, guidance counselors, community members, and healthcare or law enforcement responders.

Contact – trish.mcknight@live.com for more information

Help us end the growing cycle of what is now more than 3.7 million reports annually for crimes against children. Together we can all do something to aid in the prevention of these acts, even if its just directly with our family members alone. However, it is crucial we address this as a societal issue as well. Our youth are exploding with dysfunction, rage, criminal and gang related violence. How much longer will you look away when things like this are affecting the lives of your neighbors, your community, or your family?

We are a human society and each have equal rights to life, liberty and security of person; without regard to date of birth, religion, race, or gender. Do not turn away simply because you have been taught to believe; its just another family issue, its nothing that will do any permanent harm.

You Deserve:

Respect as you give to others

Love as you give to others

A safe place in which to live, grow, and thrive

Thank you,

Patricia A McKnight

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

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

 

 

 

 

I-TEAM: Sex Trafficking – Wandtv.com, NewsCenter17, StormCenter17, Central Illinois News-

I-TEAM: Sex Trafficking – Wandtv.com, NewsCenter17, StormCenter17, Central Illinois News-.

Will you help pass my story on to someone you know.? We are trying to draw attention to the act of ‪#‎TerroristicAbuse‬ and my story is just one of those;
**Warning may be too graphic for some readers, please use care when viewing**

“Patricia, someone who’s finally climbed to the other side of her life, but not without great friends supporting her and challenges which she had to battle through on her own. Her heart & spirit are sincere, true, authentic and in what she’s doing today she hopes to help as many people as possible change their views about these types of crimes, which are very real, very painful and do exist within our families every single day.

Patricia, ‘Trish’, has worked her way through recovery and rebuilding with the love of a wonderful man, good friends, and believing in having fun. Her greatest pleasure and place where she feels at peace is riding on the back of her husband’s Harley Davidson and cruising on a hot Summer’s day.
“We need to enjoy our life, it is a precious gift.”

“I know it hurts that someone has committed awful acts against you, but taking back your right to life, liberty and security in your person is not only a possibility, but it is a necessity. You have so much more to live for and a life waiting for you to create through your own special focus and magic.”