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

Advertisements

The Town Who Chose to Abandon the Child

Each day I am usually contacted by a survivor of Child Rape, Molestation, Brutal Physical Abuse, Emotional Battery, and even severe Neglect. It breaks my heart to know there are so many of us, especially since I always felt so isolated and alone in my recovery journey. To know that in truth there are an estimated 40 to 60 Million of us in society today who are now parents and grandparents trying to make up for what our emotional scars have passed on to our own children while we try to watch out for the children around us now.

There are many layers of recovery that we must work through and if you are one of the millions who are still struggling through the aftermath, you know exactly what this means. For me the abuse encompassed all forms; from severe disfiguring neglect to spiritual and religious abuse, to trafficking and forced involvement with many different grown men and young teen boys who I also attended school with each day.

“Crazy to think these many young boys were threatened to take part in either raping me or lining up while I was ordered to perform oral sex on them. The next day when I saw them at school however, they would whisper, tease, point and be disgusted by the very sight of me, but ot once ever spoke up about what they were ordered to take part in the weekend or night before.”

This past Tuesday I had a therapy appointment and as I was preparing myself all morning as to where I wanted to direct my discussion that day, the hour long drive to her office filled my head with the swirling tornado of anger and memories. By the time I arrived at her office I was such an emotional wreck all I could do was walk in circles in the closed little office and shake violently at the prospect of talking. There was a fire of anger inside and I honestly did not know how to begin the sentence and explain to her what was wrong. Thankfully she is a marvelous well trained and expert in Trauma Recovery Therapy and we’ve been working together almost six years now. T^o say the least however, she was still a bit shocked at my actions and when I broke down on the floor in tears she knew that whatever was going on inside was eating at me and we had to break the wall to get through.

The anger was billowing up from the gates of hell where I had trapped it many years ago. I honestly believed I had worked through all the anger issues and had nothing left inside to be angry about. I guess as I have been talking on the radio with my guests, co-host and the wonderful growing number of listeners, it seems the hellish nightmares started churning and things I didn’t think I felt any anger about came pounding down like a hard cold slap in the face.

“If you know or love a survivor or if you are a survivor; know that our emotions buried from the trauma continue to invade our present day lives because of the many layers of mental destruction caused by the attacks.”

To share with others of this new emotional breakdown, those of you who know this buried pain and how we try to avoid going back to our dark reality; this new layer of anger is aimed at the entire community who made a conscious decision to ignore and watch as a beautiful little girl rotted in the evil of her home. The town is Freeburg, Illinois, where I spent nine years of my life, living through the very worst of all the torture and blatant neglect, the trafficking and the beating. The town was a small coal mining community back then made up of farmer and miners and totaling about 1500, according to our population sign shared on the ‘Welcome to the Village of Freeburg’ that was posted at either end of the main road, Highway #15, which ran through the middle of our small little nest.

“Oh how I try to erase all of the connections to my past. My life is so good now and it has only been truly safe since about April 2002. There are days however when I just can’t turn up the music loud enough to drown out the thunder of emotions and dark horrific memories.”

storms               Thunderstorm2_small

Now I know times were much different back then, after all I grew up there between 1971 and when I first left home it was 1979, then finally left the area for 20 years in 1983; not ever moving back to that community. I can’t even drive through it without having a major panic attack, but back to what I was saying.

According to PDF report, attached here, written by John E.B. Meyers, he gives an excellent break down of our country’s Child Protection Act and it’s origin.

To quote just a few bits & pieces here;

1) In the forty years between the economic panic of the 1890s and the great depression of the 1930s; the devolvement and growth of social work became a recognized profession.

2) Organized child protection emerged after the 1874 rescue of 9 year old, Mary Ellen Wilson, who lived with her guardians in New York City’s Hells Kitchen.

3) The 1960s witnessed an explosion of interest in child abuse and physicians played a key role. It was pediatrician Henry Kempe and his colleagues that published the block buster article, ‘The Battered Child Syndrome’, which played a leading role to bringing child abuse to national attention throughout the 1960s and 1970s. It was after this publication that media outlets started filling their publications with stories of maltreatment. A Newsweek article titled ‘When They’re Angry….’ quoted this:

    “For every child who enters the hospital badly beaten there must be hundreds more treated by unsuspecting doctors. The Battered Child’s Syndrome isn’t a reportable disease, but it damn well ought to be.”

4) The Social Security Act amendments of 1962 gave way to the following shared by Vincent De Francis in 1967:

     “In additions to sharpening the focus on child protection, the 1962 amendments required all states to pledge that by July 1, 1975, they would make child welfare services available statewide.”

5) The first four child abuse reporting laws were enacted in 1963 and by 1967 all states had reporting laws. As the reporting laws went into effect the prevalence and child abuse and neglect came into focus. By 1974, some 60,000 were reported, by 1980 the reports climbed to 1,000,000; by 1990 they topped 2,000,000 and since 2000 they have been hovering above 3,000,000.**In 2011 there was a total of 3,712,034 reports of child maltreatment, but only about (1/3) of them were actually handled and processed through our child protective services system.** per Federal Children’s Bureau reports from all 52 states collective CPS reporting systems.

6) In 1977, Henry Kempe, gave a lecture in which he described: ‘sexual abuse of children and adolescents is another hidden pediatric problem and hidden area.’

It is this author’s determination that while I’ve tried to excuse the problem of ignorance throughout the school officials and the community in which I grew up, you can clearly see that in the early 1960s child abuse and sexual abuse of children was becoming a nation wide media and governmental issue. You can also clearly see that each state had a least four mandated reporting laws in effect as early as 1963.

“So for the officials who were required by law to report and help the abused children they witnessed, what the hell happened to me towns people of Freeburg?”

The first and most prominent of the Red Flags I was displaying, was the severe blatant neglect. Our family had the very best healthcare coverage available then, that which was paid for by United Mine Workers Union of America. There was absolutely no our of pocket cost  at all for care. Many may remember how strong the Mine Worker’s Union was in the 1970’s. These people took baseball bats, axe handles and fists to their meeting and brawls were common with many having to go for medical treatment. Our town, Freeburg, had these such meetings because Peabody Coal, Riverking Underground #1 was the lifeblood of the community.

Now although I was suffering in the many sadistic sexual attacks from my stepfather, and yes I know that sexual abuse rarely displays any noticeable physical signs; there are still many silent signs the victims display without being fully aware of what these actually reflect.

In school my silent warning signs were like huge beams of light searching for hope of rescue. My grades went from A’s and B’s to D’s and F’s. My homework was rarely completed, but the teachers always seemed to make note of that fact and ridicule me in front of the other students.

“Are you dumb or just lazy Patricia? Boy how I”d love to have told them that I didn’t get it done because I got beaten for two hours because I put on the heavy pajamas to protect me from his roaming hands or I was busy cooking, caring for my sister, and had to spend the evening being raped by a shotgun barrel.”

Of course we all know the shame attached to this type of abuse, so it is rare that a child will ever break that silence; especially if they are being badgered and belittled by an adult. All the red flags were waving high in the sky around me. My plaque covered, never brushed, broken black fanged teeth. The rotting flesh covered with crusted filth and infected sores. The heavy stench of body odor and the unwashed stinking gym uniform was all visible to those around me, but still not one single person, no teacher, school nurse, or other school official ever questioned my care in any form. They all watched me fail at everything, they avoided any discussions or physical contact at all. The memories I have of school are all clouded by the many years of trying to hide from the world the ugliness that was now seeping from my soul and covered my flesh.

When I share that it was the entire community, I do mean all the family friends who came to our house for various reasons; the adult men who attended the late night parties which I was ordered to be hostess, toy and child drunk they could feel up and play finger games with as stepfather watched on in enjoyment and mother’s cold eyes as she walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She permitted him to use me however and whenever he chose. I was taken on their dates and fed alcohol while he tried to find a man to entertain my mother so he could teach me how to slow dance. I was taught very young, just 11, when we first went out to the bar and I was ordered to shake my ass about and use my body to entice the grown men around me.

Then of course I can’t leave out the neighbors and local police. I can’t even remember all the parties we had with drunken teenagers and cases of beer or the half barrel stored outside to keep cold. Kids walking in and out, my little sister got in the habit of charging them a dime to use the bathroom and it was a joke as too how much money she actually made at each of these events. The times when Mother took her along for weekend excursions, but left me behind to take care of the house and of course her husband.

“This is my time away and I won’t be bothered with you coming along.”

Each time she went away she would go around to the local corner bars and warn them each not to give stepfather whiskey because she couldn’t trust him not to kill her kids while she was away. Every time she came home I was covered with bruises and had to spend at least 6 to 10 hours cleaning up the mess from the fights that always broke out. Usually it was because a boy that didn’t want to take me in the next room and screw my brains out stood up and said ‘No’ to him. It could have been the nights that he got angry because I had a boyfriend so I didn’t want to do what he ordered from me.

The neighbors and the police all knew of these many parties, you can’t keep anything in a small town quiet. The folks on our street got a birds eye view of him dragging me across the road by the fist full of hair, or getting beaten in the middle of the street with his fist; perhaps the midnight dash out of the house trying to find a safe place to hide after my brothers had taken off and left me there with his raging temper. There was always some type of explosion at our house and the temper of stepfather was well known to everyone.

As I talked with my therapist the other day, she asked me what I would say to the community of Freeburg and the many who watched me be handed out and rot in this hell. I would actually love to have an article published to share my anger with them. It was suggested by her the following:

“Everyone in that town should be REQUIRED to read your book so they could feel what you lived through and hopefully open their eyes to what they so blatantly ignored.”

In truth I know I wasn’t the only child in that town that suffered the abuses of their parents, but not once have I ever met anyone else who had rotted like I did or been left so severely scarred, both physically and emotionally, in such an extreme nature. To be perfectly honest however, the words I would like to say to them could only be screamed and would be so foul that it would just lower me to their mentality, so I’ll use this writing instead to express the trapped emotions. Hopefully this will help me shed another layer of pain and begin a new light of healing.

Our society is so judgment of everyone who seems to be poor or less worthy. Our society disregards even the children of those adults who they feel are unfit. Our society damns all who have contact with such families. Our human society has no empathy, respect or tenderness for the many in our country who do not live according to their beliefs and morals.

To all of society I ask you; What morals do you have when you turn away from these vicious acts against children committed by their parents and the family friends each and every day in our country? When our Federal Children’s Bureau has reports of the statistics on these crimes and in our present day world full of information, emergency response system, federal and state child maltreatment reporting mandates, but you still use the age old ‘UNFIT’ status quo to pass your judgment on who should and shouldn’t receive your attention and who deserves to receive help or rescue. The poor of our society are not all bad parents, in fact, the reports show that the largest account for child abuse in our country is the White Middle Class who account for 43.9% of all the reported 3,712,034 calls for help to Children’s Protective Services.

“How do these reality checks make you feel now about the moral standards of mankind?”

Every soul is born with purpose, let no one keep you down by their judgment. Dream and chase those dreams, put forth the effort and no one can hold you back. No matter what the past has taught you, tomorrow is a new day and a new chance to create, build, achieve!!

~~Always Live Strong & Fly Free~~

Patricia A. McKnight

Author: ‘My Justice’

Advocate/Speaker/Writer/Talk Radio Prod & Host/Survivor

Founder: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Talk Radio Brdcstng.

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamsabuserecovery

http://www.facebook.com/triciagirl62

©All rights officially copyrighted and protected: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery 2012

 

Surviving, living, believing, achieving; Healing from Abuse!!

Posted Nov. 13,2012

via Michal Madison

It was another restless night of haunting memories and emotions!!

Its been awhile since I’ve posted a blog, but there are some things that are rushing around in my head this morning, actually they’ve been swimming around in there since yesterday afternoon.

Yesterday, as I was online building the information on the new website, a phone call comes into my cell about 2pm; it’s a programmed number which should have still been blocked, so not sure the how or why she was able to get through. The name popped up and there it was, THE WITCH – THE MOTHER!!

Now I’ve posted before about letting go of the toxic people who are supposed to be family and support us, but I know this is a very difficult process, especially when it’s our parent. Mother is the only parent I’ve ever actually known. She left Dad when I was three and at five I was kept from the family who would have protected me and did not see any of them again until I was eighteen and at my grandfather’s funeral. The one that clung to me that day is the last one who had hugged me good-bye so very long ago. Miss You Grandma!!!

About five years ago now I finally got brave enough to say the words I’d never spoken to Mother before, F**k you as I marched out her front door and never looked back. How dare she blame me for all that had happened!! How dare she first admit what she allowed him to do, what she knew he was doing, and the many bruises she saw from the aftermath of his attacks; then blame the child that endured them!!!

I decided that last day I would never speak with her again.

About four years ago I went public with my own true horror story of the atrocities against me; the community that watched a child rot away in a house of evil; and how it all trained me to believe there would be nothing different in my life. Their ignorance of these abuses left me believing no one cared enough to help me and there was no value in my existence. I must say I was wrong about that last part. God and Creator have guided me and protected me, have brought me to where I am today; a life filled with respect, kindness, patience, love, happiness, FREEDOM!!

Each voicemail was not a request for forgiveness, but rather saying, “I am willing to forget all that you said and forgive you!!!” She has some nerve, telling me she forgives me; forgives me for what??? What exactly was it that her 5 year old daughter did to deserve the next twelve years of molestation, beatings, sadistic rape by a shotgun barrel, or the trafficking out for sick pleasure and beer money; what did this child do that Mother should forgive???

It angers me that her voice can still set me off into a whirlwind. Simply seeing her name pop up on my cell caused an instant shock and downward spiral on my day.

Her voicemails started off asking me to call and resolve the issues about publishing ‘My Justice’. Two of them ended with her crying and asking why I would do such a thing. Two others ended with threats of legal action against myself, and against Bink. What she doesn’t seem to realize first of all, is that he has absolutely nothing to do with this publication, nor is there any marriage for her to come after what few assets we have.

A part of me sincerely hopes she steps forward and brings legal action against me. You see, I’ve never went public with her name or the names of anyone in my immediate family. It would be a great pleasure to stand in a courtroom and show the extremities, now covered with the deep scars from rot, which grew like black mold to cover my body. It would give me great pleasure to introduce the world to the woman who allowed her daughter to be physically eaten by the infection of abuse and terror that surrounded her existence. The times when Mother saw me in bed naked at nine with his erection lying next to me. The time she allowed him to buy the see-through gown from Victoria Secrets for her then twelve year old daughter. The dates she allowed her thirteen year old daughter to attend when it should have been just the two of them. How she watched him ‘teach’ me to slow dance in public while an entire bar watched the child drink up the whiskey and be groped on the dance floor. The mornings she viewed the belt marks and bruises from her daughter’s battle the night before and never spoke a concerned word about any of it!!!

Will she have the courage and the stupidity to come forward and name herself as the mother of this child??? Only time will tell!!!

The saddest part of it all is how the lifelong effects are still with me and still able to be angered by her actions and the sound of her voice. Is it really that I haven’t fully healed or is it the deep impact left on the child? Isn’t it normal for a child to want a parent to love and protect them, believe in their value and encourage their possibilities? She was all I had as a blood connection to any parent. I didn’t want to let go, because I always hoped she would one day see my worth as a human being. Unfortunately, the day has never come and once in a while she sneaks back in to remind me of this truth.

Sadly it is a truth for many of us who survived the vicious attacks and sickness of abuse from our parents. Those who we were taught should protect and guide us; instead harm, degrade, and strip away our very soul, then act as if we are to blame for the cruelty against us.

So, as I vent to you today, I have to admit that as much as I speak about empowering the voices of others to speak up for their freedom in life, it is with great sorrow that I admit; “She got to me again!!!”

Yes, we’ve talked, posted, and shared about the many lifelong traumas that inflict the survivor of abuse and violence. I’ve shared on previous blogs the scientific proof from National Institute of Mental Health and Government Affairs reports of how the trauma of the many years in sadistic brutal abuse and neglect leaves the survivor to carry lifelong issues of PTSD, DEPRESSION, DRUG AND ALCOHOL ADDICTIONS, FIBROMYALGIA and other such physical and mental health problems.

I believe, that even for some of the parents today who are abusers and neglecters of their children; that this is a curse from times past and it is possible to recover and be better for your children!!

Do we ever fully recover or are we in a constant mode of recovering?

When we heal from the inside we become better, stronger, more capable of facing the daily issues of life and parenting!!! I also believe like learning to live as a recovering addict, we have to recognize the scars of the abuse, accept what it has done to us and find coping skills to manage through. It’s important that we become emotionally strong enough to cope with the stressors that can set us off. We have to review our own actions and emotional responses to see how the scars have invaded our ability to cope within our adult world and family. However, it is a work – in – progress!!!

Each time we can stand against the emotional reaction charged from the abuse and trauma, we have achieved a new success!!! It is to be admired, awarded in some small way, show yourself how important it is that you didn’t let it set you off, you were able to recognize your reaction and stop it from happening; THIS IS A HUGE SUCCESS!!!

As well as having the days of those little successes, we of course have those days we feel the cut of having our negative responses and feeling the frustration of the downward racing spiral!!! Yes we will have bad days, there will be things that set us off and trigger our anger, sadness, isolation, and more. Don’t be afraid to admit this to yourself. Know that it is perfectly normal to have this. It’s alright and with each time you face those days they become building blocks of your recovery. Don’t be ashamed that a day has come that you have problems coping? There is no shame, only honor in being a survivor!!!

Never give up hope of one day being free and having your life to enjoy!!

Never stop dreaming of what you can achieve!!

Never stop believing in your value; the purpose given to you at birth!!

When you need a friend to help you get through a bad day or a bad moment, never be afraid of speaking out and asking for some guidance and support!!! Know there are hundreds of voices speaking out against the crimes of abuse and the generational acceptance to family violence. You will find a friend who understands the plight you face and will help you find your sense of peace!!!

If you are lost in these lifelong impacts of abuse or violence; please search out Abuse and Violence Support in your browser or Facebook, there is always help available!!! If you are swept away and need a voice to speak with call the hotline numbers to speak with someone and find a local support group in your area where you can connect with others like yourself.

You are never alone!!! You never have to remain silent about the pain you carry!!!

You’re invited to visit the new website for a full-page of resources and listing of hotline numbers;  http://www.patriciamcknightsjustice.com

Join me and others in the online support group – Survivors World

Both men and women; victims and survivors are welcomed; together we can help heal each other!!!

Join in and sign the guest book for ‘Generation No More’; hoping to empower and encourage everyone to build prevention and rescue in their own community!!

Positive Thoughts for You

You DESERVE a safe place to sleep

You DESERVE respect

You DESERVE kindness and support

You DESERVE as much love as you freely give to others

You DESERVE roses in your garden of life

(c) ‘My Justice’

pub. Feb 2011

Patricia A. McKnight

Author/Advocate/Speaker/Writer/Talk Radio Host/Survivor

http://www.facebook.com/triciagirl62

SCARS OF DISREGARD FOR MEDICAL CARE!!!

Left & Right Arms

Right & Left Leg