What can we do in our family unit to be sure this doesn’t happen to a child in your life’s circle……

 

biopic3      coverkindle

Ask a survivor of forced familial child trafficking; how can we ever end these atrocities within our family unit?

As a survivor of this vicious act against children, I have shared my voice publicly through training seminars, various speaking venues, including the Speakers Bureau for Southwestern Illinois Rescue & Restore Human Trafficking Coalition; Panel Speaker for St. Clair County Illinois Domestic Violence Reform Program; Prosecuting Attorneys Association Of Michigan’s Annual Victims Advocate Training. You will also find me through many web based radio program interviews, and anywhere I am given the opportunity.

It’s only after these past ten years spent in recovery, rebuilding, and training to assist other victims, that I am finally able to face many of the evil nightmares which have haunted and held me silent with shame & disgust. The fact that my mother and stepfather encouraged, allowed, and actually invited groups of grown men to come into our home for late night parties with their young developing child; the daughter well trained to tolerate such ugly acts; it is still a troubling part of my history. In truth I had to accept the complete disregard I suffered throughout twelve long years of repeated molestations, beatings, rape, physically scarring neglect, and at the age of eleven my stepfather began his most favorite activity; he commonly sold or traded me out for sick pleasure or the price of a couple of beers.

This all sounds extreme and you may not want to believe it all; however, back then it was all a ‘normal’ process for me and something my mother and stepfather did on a regular basis. How was I supposed to know I had any other value as a human being or that I could refuse what was enforced by the parents who had all the control of my very survival? It was a common practice on late Friday night for groups of men, coworkers at Peabody Underground #1 in Freeburg, Illinois; to come to our house for the entertainment of molesting and sharing a young child. When I speak today I use my voice to raise the dark curtain about how those who are in our family, protected by their given parental rights, then use us and destroy us through deviate acts they insist we endure. Remember, a child has no voice that others actually respect. Sadly this was true back in the 1970’s and although it may be slowly changing; it is a way we teach our children through family secrets and tolerance today.

I grew up in a small quiet town located in Southwestern Illinois. For nine consecutive years I attended the same school district and lived in the very center of town. It was during these years I was given as property to be my stepfather’s play toy and trained to be his ‘child prostitute’ from the age of about nine years old. This is just a few years after my mother willingly married the devil; a man whose own son had warned her about his evil. When he came into my life the value I had as a person, the happiness I felt as that innocent little girl; all of it was gone. My mother’s complete disregard for her own child, the neglect of all basic human needs or any form of medical or dental care led to rot, filth, and permitting her husband to destroy all that was good in her bright blue eyed little girl. This permitted destruction created a path of self loathing and an intense need to die; this is what I carried within the hidden secrets for most of my life. This type of disgusting abuse and disregard of a child is something we don’t forget, something we can never just erase from our existence; it is who we see in the mirror and the part of us we come to hate.

My mother permitted his acts and actually sacrificed her middle child to this monster for him to use however and whenever he chose. She ignored her own daughter and as he took over control of my life, she chose to treat me as less than human. Our family had the best health insurance back then, but yet the only time I ever saw a doctor was to be put on birth control at fifteen. She permitted, and the community who knew me so well watched, as he began taking me to bars and then eventually started collecting a few dollars from every adult man who wanted to come to our house for the late night entertainment. The men were allowed to get me high, feed me alcohol until I could hardly walk, then trade me from lap to lap as they probed and used the child who should have been sleeping for school the next morning. He took me out to tugboat parties with the workers he met at his common bar stop where my mother worked. My parents took me on their private dates and looked for adult men who wanted to be entertained by the child who was then just twelve years old. My stepfather repeatedly through parties at our house where schoolmates were invited for marijuana and alcohol, then as always; I was the prize & entertainment. Some of these nights included me giving everyone oral sex or allowing them to take me into my own bed. The price of refusal was a beating or his own sadistic acts as I lay in fear each night. I still have nightmares today about these parties, especially when it was more than one single person at a time, but I have learned through research & therapy my stepfather was a sociopath and my mother a narcissist; neither of whom could care less about what they did to this one middle child. in fact I believe their comment when I spoke with them both about all that had happened was simply, ‘You got what you deserved.”

The school personnel of Freeburg, the law enforcement, family friends, and even schoolmates who had been lured into his dark circle of trafficking his stepdaughter; they all knew who I was and who my parents were, yet not a single person ever questioned my care. There were many who avoided any physical contact with the child whose skin was covered with ugly puss filled sores, which left me today with deep pitted ugly scars. They said nothing about the rotting, broken black fangs, hanging in my mouth, which should have been my young beautiful smile. They saw vicious bruises and witnessed beatings in the street or heard the screams from my house as he beat me for the slightest infraction or late response to answer the ring of that little brass bell; all were signs of extreme abuse and evil against this one little girl growing up in the middle of this family, yet not a single person felt I was worth saving or heard my silent screams for rescue.

The reason I am sending this out now is because I have done a lot of work in my recovery, but unfortunately the trafficking has been the most difficult part of healing. This dark training of permitting multiples of men & boys to use and probe the child I was; it all created a lifelong pattern of extreme violence and degradation from boyfriends & husbands. I endured more than thirty years of severe physical battery, which almost ended in death more than once or twice. Through these vicious relationships I was threatened with weapons, attempted drowning, strangulations, concussions, broken ribs, broken collar bones and constant fear. The impact of living in these types of relationships, eventually left its own twisted pain and fear in my children’s lives. It wasn’t until my oldest child was fourteen years old that I finally found the courage to fight for my life and give my children the safe, loving home they deserved. They had spent their young years watching and hiding as their mother was beaten beyond recognition and repeatedly told how ugly, stupid, and useless she was. Today my children still see a lot of those same horrible things in the woman who loves them more than life itself. I have watched as the evil inflicted against the little girl I used to be, has crept through the veins of my bloodline and invaded the lives of my children; today they suffer in their own dysfunctional relationships. It is now in trying to parent their children and develop safe, healthy lives, that they are repeating some of those same behaviors which had become so ‘normal’ for them.

Above I have attached a photo of myself along with a picture of the memoir I published back in 2011, sharing my voice for the very first time and explaining to my children why their world was so disrupted by all the repeated vicious attacks and disregard of just one human life. The story, ‘My Justice’, is a true account of what happened in the protective window of family. It is a written apology to my children for how the trained acceptance of these crimes was such a huge part of my life; actually was my life.

In my healing I have become a strong advocate for those crimes which exist within our homes and our family unit. However, our modern day society, even with all of the many extremes we have learned to accept on our televisions, in our neighborhoods, and on our streets, it’s sad to accept that no one seems to want to acknowledge or speak about these issues. If we as adults cannot speak openly, without the feeling of shame and fear of judgment from others, then how are we to empower our kids to know we will help them, we understand, and they have nothing to fear? It is crucial for the adults in our communities to remain vigilant and take the initiative to prevent these acts of harm so commonly overlooked. Our society can no longer trade out our children for drugs, food, beer or for the sick pleasure of deviate thoughts. These are people’s souls we are destroying and when the circle of family friends, teachers, and others in these small communities blame and condemn the child victim, see them as less worthy rather than reporting and helping to rescue that child, then we are partly responsible for the destruction of who that person should grow up to become.

Today we are a new generation in charge and we know just how dark the dangers inside our homes can become. We have study after study about the many emotional disorders left on the child victim. Most often the adults who grow up inside this pattern of life, which many can never seem to escape; they live in an aftermath of Complex P.T.S.D, Depression, Anxiety, and extreme personality disorders that require treatment and medications, which usually cannot be afforded by the survivor. The burden of these healing treatments become the responsibility of our society, which is estimated by Center for Disease & Control at approximately $124 BILLION in the lifetime recovery cost of a survivor today. You can review a report on Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery which is research from the National Child Abuse and Neglect Data Systems, (NCANDS). This report, along with the allowance announced by Congress,(For every one report that is made of child maltreatment & sexual harm, there are at least three others that are not.); in the balance of this report it proves that at least 1 in 3 children are being forced to endure the brutal acts in heavy silence & family secrets every single day in the U.S. alone.

It is now that our children need us to hear their voices more than ever before. We already have generations of dysfunctional parents wounded by these vicious ugly acts, so when will it be enough that we finally begin a true active prevention within every family circle, every small community school, every law enforcement training, and most definitely throughout our entire medical provider services. We must begin to spot the silent children who endure every single day in the terror of their parents or other close family members. This support and strategic planning of protection for all children will only be possible when we stand strong as a united human society; making the choice today to teach value in every person, and empower every child to believe they deserve safety, love, happiness and that we will end the acceptance of these violent crimes within our very homes.

I do hope you will check out the website and organization of Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery to find out more about my story and the stories of many others like myself. You will find a campaign we are leading to create your own ‘Family Defender’. It is with a prayer that you will hear my voice and help the many developing grass roots resources provide an understanding of just how common it is for those in our home to be the most dangerous to a child. Together, with the support of many incredible people today, I am proud of who I am and I am learning to see just how important my survival and healing has been; this is the path so that I could encourage others to be the ones to help end the cycle of harm we have been teaching throughout centuries. Our children are not for trade or sale. Our children are not objects for sexual gratification. Our children are not born to be destroyed by the parents who should love and protect them. Our children are soon going to be the next generation in charge, what will they know? Will it only be pain, sadness, violence, degradation? It’s never to late to be a powerful force of positive inspiration in a child’s life. Hopefully you will not turn away from the opportunity to truly leave an impression on a child in your circle.

Thank you for any time or consideration you have given here in what I’ve shared. You can contact me personally by emailing, butterflydreamsteam@live.com or trish.mcknight@live.com . You will find links below for the organization of Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Butterfly Dreams Talk Radio. Spread the message through telling your own survivor story or by sharing the truth of how dark the evil can become inside this man-made hell for children. We cannot allow these ongoing crimes of human destruction. Please stand strong, be proud, and be a voice in ending the repeated generational teaching of silence and tolerance within our family unit.

We have the duty today, the knowledge, the studies, the many thousands of adult survivors who share the horror they endured. How many more human beings will we permit to be used, sold, traded out, and forced into a life long pattern of self destruction. Please pass this on and help our society understand exactly what they can do to prevent these crimes and how every living being deserves to be happy, know the feeling of love, and most of all sleep in safety without fear of the hand covering their mouth and taking away their most powerful protection, the power of their own voice.

Together we are empowering our society to defend our children, connecting hearts & holding hands of help around the world.

Thank you,

Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight

Owner/CEO: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery  www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

Author: ‘My Justice’

Advocate/Keynote Speaker/Radio Host/’Steps to Recovery’ Trainer/Survivor

bdarbanner(artwork via Michal Madison Art; Watercolor Artist)

 

Bring true awareness to our community, check out the ROT OF ABUSE, the child a town forgot http://awe.sm/s5Ezs

Devils of my childhood no longer protected

Have you ever thought about going public with the names of your abusers? Have you thought about finally holding them accountable for what they did and what you were forced to endure?

This has been heavy on my mind for quite some time. I’ve shared the horrific details, which have been compared by incredible people, to the horrible life of Mr. Dave Pelzer, New York Times Best Seller – ‘A Child Called – It’.

So I think to myself many times over what else is there for me to share, what else do I have to work through to get this finally released from my soul so that I can live free from all the ugly secrets? There is only one secret left which plagues me constantly, the names of those two people who were responsible for my well being, nurturing, teaching me to become a capable young adult and healthy mother for my own children.

THESE TWO PEOPLE WERE EVIL NOT LOVING PARENTS AS THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN!!!

Why should their identities be protected? Why did I change their names when I published ‘My Justice’? Why did I call it a ‘novel’ rather than the truth of what it actually is, an AUTOBIOGRAPHY? It is every possible memory I have held deep inside for years, the memories that trapped me in a world of darkness.

Well today, after talking with one absolutely strong and amazing justice fighter, who has given me her blessing as a friend, an angel who has come into my life; one person I have followed for almost a year now on Linkedin but never dreamed would ever have any interest in my story, the amazing Ms. Dana Hoffman!!! Who is a lucky girl today to have this voice in my corner?

OK, first things first….

Why did I publish ‘My Justice’ and list it as a novel? When I published this horrific story of my life, I made it clear on the back cover; ‘this is the true story of one woman’s fight for survival. It has been created from her memories & nightmares.’

To me at the time this went into publication, Feb 2011, I had a major problem with seeing the word ‘AUTOBIOGRAPHY’ as a conceded comment about myself. Somehow when I looked at that particular word it terrified me, part of this was also wrapped up in DISSOCIATION. If I called it a ‘novel’ I didn’t have to feel connected to all of the horrifying evils of abuse & torture as written out from the memories & nightmares, the self destruction of what I endured. Also, what made my story any different from what so many others have endured? What made me so special that I wrote out my journey of hell and the vicious maltreatment of various levels of abuses inflicted?

If you are not aware, it is difficult enough for survivors of abuse to feel anything special about themselves. It is almost unfathomable to think we hold anything of value that others are interested in hearing, much less publishing a full life story about these brutal acts. So, it was SAFE for me to call it a novel; it was typical of me to put myself much lower than any other deserving being; I WAS TRAINED THROUGHOUT MANY YEARS THAT I HAD NOTHING ANY OTHER PERSON WOULD BE INTERESTED IN HEARING. I HAD AN ENTIRE COMMUNITY ABANDON ME IN THIS HELL FOR TWELVE YEARS, SO THEY DROVE HOME THE WORDS OF MY PARENTS —-

‘NO ONE WILL CARE AND NO ONE WILL EVER HELP YOU’ – ‘YOU DESERVED EVERYTHING YOU GOT’!!

Did I really deserve all of their evil? Did a five year old girl deserve to be viciously molested and tortured in front of her brother and two other neighbor boys? Did that child also deserve to be terrified into silence, threatened that if she spoke of what happened he would be sure and get her back, maybe even kill her? Did I deserve to be trained as the family slave, answer that little brass bell when it rang, no matter what I was doing? Did I deserve to be trained in how to entice grown men at the age of 11? Did I deserve to be traded off for the price of a couple of beers, just to satisfy his sick sadistic power over me? Did I deserve to be ripped apart with a shotgun barrel at just 12 because I went begging for my mother’s help? Did I deserve for school mates to come to our house and be forced to give oral sex to them? Did I deserve to be the entertainment at the late night adult male parties held at our house, while mother stepped in her bedroom to watch tv, then told I was the one who wanted to join the party? Did I deserve to be trained into being his whore, the one he could control and act out his dark evil against? Did I deserve to be left to physically rot away in mother’s lack of caring for the little girl she brought into this world? Did I deserve to be treated like trash, less than dog shit on the street by almost everyone who came into my life? Did I deserve for the girls at school not to friend me, but instead to whisper, point, degrade me even further? Did I deserve for teacher’s to belittle me for not having homework done or not knowing the answer to the classroom question? Did I deserve the law enforcement to drive by our house when the fights started with a raging evil drunk, but not stop and see who was being harmed? Did I deserve for everyone to shun me, call me ‘THE VILLAGE WHORE’ rather than seeing me as a CHILD; a little girl trapped inside a house of horror? REALLY, did I deserve to be a slave, a sex object, a disgusting example of what other children should NOT be? DID I DESERVE FOR THE FAMILY FRIENDS, THE VISITORS, THE TEACHERS, THE LAW, THE ENTIRE F’N TOWN TO DISCARD ME?

Tell me town’s people of Freeburg, HOW WOULD YOU DEAL WITH THIS IF IT WERE YOU OR YOUR CHILD? What made me so much less worthy than others of your caring and your help?

SO HERE GOES THE FINAL RELEASE OF MY SECRETS…..

My mother who allowed her daughter to be used, abused, raped, beaten, left her to rot, never supplied so much as a toothbrush and never did any single measure to protect her, simply gave her to the man she married, the man whose own adopted son warned her about his vicious evil – MONA WHITE. Mother you let everyone believe that you were the victim in that house, that you had no control over what happened and poor little you had to deal with the drunk, but I know the truth!!! TRUTH – he was putty in your hands. He would have done anything for you to act as if you loved him. He was your husband, not mine. He was never attacking to you, but YOU ALLOWED him to attack your daughter almost every single day for an entire twelve years. You, Mona White, allowed him to bring men to our house, you went into the bedroom and watched tv, then blamed the child because she was ordered by him to take part, you said she wanted it. You allowed him to take me on your dates together when I was just around 12 years old. You sat in the chair as he took me on the dance floor and in front of every adult in the place, rubbed himself on me and ‘taught’ me how to move my hips & ass so it felt all good to him. You, Mona White, allowed the infection on my skin to eat away at me for three continuous years before you took me to see ONE DOCTOR, but you never took me back and never cared again about the filth that covered my flesh. You, Mona White, allowed me to get detention in Freshman year because you couldn’t give me TWO DOLLARS to buy a can of deodorant. You sat at the kitchen table, looked me in the eye and said, ‘if you’d take a fucking bath then you wouldn’t stink so fucking bad.’ YOU never kept him out of the bathroom so I could safely bathe, you never stopped him from coming into my room at night. When you worked the bar you were too caught up in all the attention you were receiving to give a shit about the drunken pissed off man you just sent home to your children. YOU WERE NOT THE VICTIM – YOU WERE AN ABUSER OF YOUR OWN DESIGN!!! YOU cared about your youngest daughter, God forbid anyone should hurt her. You took her to the doctor, you took her to the dentist, you allowed her all of the material possessions she wanted, YOU COULDN’T WAIT FOR ME TO LEAVE YOUR HOUSE. Yet who was the person you have always called on when you were sad, angry, needed a friend or a listening ear? ME!! You cared about your older son, you cared about the abandoned children who you sheltered from the streets and the strangers you gave a home to, but YOU COULD NOT & WOULD NOT PROTECT YOUR OWN DAUGHTER!!! I reveal you now, the anger flows through my blood and I’ve carried your secrets for all my life. NOW YOU DESERVE all that comes your way!!!

Stepfather –MALCOLM WHITE – you disgusting evil son of a bitch!!! Who gave you the right to destroy a little girl with so much evil? Who gave you the right to sell her off and trade her out? Who gave you the right to beat her, torture her, brutalize every moment of her existence, then stalk her in her adult life. Who gave you the right to be so obsessed with me you crept outside the bedroom window of my home with my future husband. You stalked me at work, asking who would be the next man to take your daughter home and fuck her? Who gave you the right to ask the boyfriends, husbands, dates about what it was like to fuck me and what did I allow them to do, give them ideas on things they should do, hold me by the hair and threaten to blow my head off if I didn’t give all those school boys a blow job. You terrorized me from the moment you came into my life. You controlled every second of my day, it was always in my head and I never once ever doubted that you would kill me. You wanted to buy a trailer, but wanted your own special key, a place where ‘WE COULD PARTIES AND INVITE ALL YOUR COWORKERS AND BUDDIES TO JOIN IN’. You kept me from bathing for almost a full FIVE SOLID YEARS!!! You snuck into the bathroom when I was 17 so you could watch me try to shower, fearful you would try your sick games with me again. You took away my value, you took away my belief that I deserved any form of human kindness. YOUR WIFE, MY MOTHER, made sure you were buried with FULL MILITARY HONORS for the service in the air force during the Korean war, but this girl wrote up her own obituary for you…..this is what I posted on my refrigerator for a few months so that I could allow myself to feel the hatred toward you and her. This is what I published as I wrote out ‘My Justice’…… because I changed your name to ‘Walter’ in the book and never gave you a last name, now I write out the full name of the devil who tried, BUT DID NOT SUCCEED, at destroying the spirit of the person I am today.

“Here lies Malcolm White, the man who terrorized a little girl for twelve constant years of her life. He molested her, beat her, tortured her, stalked her, and raped her. He was able to have this control because of the mother who neglected to hear her daughter’s cry for help. He was given the secrecy because the little girl was too terrified to speak about the fears of her night. Now he must answer for his crimes as he is in front of the world’s strongest judge. It is my belief that he will now pay his penance for which is deserved of these crimes.”

In TRUTH, this is a very mild obituary and does not even begin to cover the levels of extreme evil you forced onto a child. No longer will I allow either of you to hide in society, to be seen as decent people, or for my mother to be seen as a VICTIM. No longer will I carry the burden of your pain, your memories, or feel the heavy fear of my afterlife because of your torture. I am now free from the both of you, no longer a child, no longer a helpless victim, but instead a true, honest, incredible survivor who has made it through all of your pain, your discarding of my being, the town’s people of Freeburg are held accountable for what they witnessed and heard, what they took part in and what they ignored, what they allowed to happen and the shame & blame they tagged on that child. I carry no longer any of that shame, I don’t carry the blame, I am not ‘your village whore’

I AM WORTHY – THIS IS MY TRUTH!!! ‘My Justice’ is my AUTOBIOGRAPHY!!

I do not apologize for the anger of this blog, I do not apologize for the words I’ve used, this is finally my truth. Thank you for reading and I hope their names are passed all around the social sites, pasted throughout every newspaper and that articles are published around the globe with their names. I will not name my siblings, nor will I name the men who have beaten and almost killed me, THESE TWO BEINGS ARE THE ROOT OF ALL THAT WAS THE BRUTAL HELL OF MY LIFE FOR ALMOST 37 YEARS!!!

©Patricia A. McKnight

Author: ‘My Justice’

Fndr/CEO – Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Talk Radio Programming

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamsabuserecovery

http://www.facebook.com/triciagirl62

Direct Email: p.mcknight@charter.net

Author/Advocate/Speaker/Trainer/Talk Radio Prod & Host/Survivor