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 

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Crimes of TERRORISM within our family unit….will you support this petition?

Hello Dear Friends & Supporters,

I’ve started a petition on Change.org

“U.S. House of Representatives, U.S. Senate, President of the United States: Amend our prosecution of Domestic/Family Crimes & Crimes Against Children to include the acts of terrorism used in the control of victims,  accept the ‘Family Terrorist Act’ – ‘Trecia’s Law’

We need your help to get it off the ground.

Will you take 30 seconds to sign it right now? Here’s the link:

http://www.change.org/p/u-s-house-of-representatives-u-s-senate-president-of-the-united-states-amend-our-prosecution-of-domestic-crimes-crimes-against-children-to-include-accept-the-family-terrorist-act-trecia-s-law

Here’s why it’s important:

To those persons voted into office by the people of the United States, we are collecting our voices and asking you to amend the prosecution of the crimes in cases of extreme violence against other persons within our household;

Crimes of Terrorism within our Family Unit.

The explanation of the ‘Family Terrorist Act’ – ‘Trecia’s Law’ is built from the basis of our ‘Federal Terrorism Act’ – definition being an act or imposed threat of severe bodily harm or risk of death to one or more persons.

Our society is well aware today of some of the extreme violent acts used to control & manipulate children, especially in the acts of Child Sex Trafficking. The intense constantly imposed fear of death against them is also used to control & prevent rescue in ALL acts of extreme violence & depravity within our household. The acts of ‘TERRORISM’ are used in ways of threats with weapons, beatings that are violent assaults (in truth attempted murder); however when we have an opportunity to prosecute these types of ‘Family Offenders’ we never consider the acts of extreme terror the ‘Family Terrorist’ uses to maintain control over the victims, prevent them from seeking assistance, & therefore protecting the abuser or ‘Family Terrorist’ from ever being prosecuted for the crimes committed against members of their family, especially in the control of our children.

We have many reports from Center for Disease and Control, which document studies on the economical impact on our society as a whole, which in the end estimates at $133 BILLION a year spent from our nation’s budget in the prevention & lifetime recovery costs of survivors in Child Sexual Abuse, Human Trafficking, and extreme Family/Relationship Violence. Also these studies have been researched and published since first creating our amendment to the Social Security Act back in 1963 which was the first development of our National Social Services System, including Child Protection. However, throughout the processes of our Children’s Protection Act, the Violence Against Women Act (last updated to finally include MALE as being a victim in January 2014) we still have not amended any of these laws to prosecute for the process of ‘FAMILY TERRORIST’ who use extreme force, brutal cruelty, and vile acts of sexual depravity, including sex trafficking of minors as a way to control those victims on a daily basis.

The mental health impact alone for these victims leaves a lifelong battle of rebuilding their identity without fear being the greatest weapon against them. They are usually under developed in life skills, and being held back by the emotional traumas when it comes to being capable of self sufficient support for themselves and their family members as they become adult survivors of these vicious constant brutal attacks and threats against them. I have the documents and the studies which provide proof that the lasting effects of these crimes leaves an extreme impact on the survivors mental health. In truth the studies published show that not even our returning war veterans suffer as much as what these victims, mostly child victims, suffer in the tremendous constant fear imposed by their ‘Family Terrorist’.

In order for these victims & survivors to be provided with any form of justice, and assisted in the appropriate life building skills, and mental health recovery processes, we first need to recognize that the ‘FAMILY TERRORIST’ is very real. The laws prosecuting ‘terrorism’ need to be included when holding these monsters accountable for the vile and brutal acts against those within their home.

Our statistical information in the 2011 National Child Abuse & Neglect Data System proves that PARENTS are 92% of the offenders for all crimes against children. They have the power to dominate and force that child to remain silent, accept all acts against them, force the child into acts of forced labor, and yes, child sex trafficking all because their monster has complete control over their very existence.Our children living in constant fear, witnessing repeated violent acts, enduring vicious attacks and actions against them may not quite understand how to begin explaining to a school official, a friend, or a member of protective services what is happening, but they do know exactly how to explain FEAR and what it is they are afraid of, especially if this is a fear they face every single day.

In cases of Domestic/Relationship or Family Violence, there are many life wounding aspects which will be present on the victims & survivors including but not limited to the psychiatric extreme fear of facing their attacker, but also the ongoing battles of self doubt because all of their movements & developments have been based on what their constant fear of another attack controlled them to do.

We have studies that show the impact of Violent Trauma on a young child’s frontal lobe brain development and ability to determine safe & unsafe actions, continued outbursts of violence against others, self destruction in the use of alcohol or drugs; all as a result of the extreme control & fear they had no choice but to endure day in and day out, year after year. The ‘Family Terrorist’ holds victims silent through extreme threats of death, dismemberment, harm to others, harm to pets, even using weapons to rape or threaten their existence if they do try to escape. These ‘Family Terrorist’ enforce silence in order to protect their dominance over the victims and prevent any form of prosecution for these crimes; therefore erasing hope for rescue and destroying the inner identity of their victim. These vicious assaults are used to trap victims and society’s view of these crimes (placing blame & questions on the victim rather than the offender) permits the continued intimidation and fear in protecting the secrets of these tortures long after the victim has escaped. It can take decades for a victim to finally find the courage to face their attacker and/or seek any form of assistance, support and justice. We must demand prosecution for the violent and vicious acts they commit within the barriers of their home.

Please say ‘YES’ to amending our ways of prosecuting these crimes and tell our elected officials to allow for the inclusion of the ‘Family Terrorist’ when there are definite signs of trauma, extreme fear, violent attacks, and forced sexual contact. Say ‘YES’ to include the ‘Family Terrorist’ prosecution in crimes of Domestic or Family Violence which includes years of extreme threats of harm, even attacks of attempted murder, to hold these victims silent and protect their abuser, their children’s abuser, their household controller when there are proven signs of ‘Family Terrorism’ used to maintain complete control over the person(s) harmed enforcing their control which leaves victims to endure the many lifelong complications of these repeated & ongoing Acts of Terrorism within our very homes.

We need those who we elect into office to protect all persons in our society, bring these monsters to prosecution, and enforce the harsh punishments for ‘terrorism’ against these offenders. The enforcement of this law will also give victims the ability to seek justice and restitution for their ongoing medical care & life rebuilding recovery needed to be a productive member of society.

“In the voice of the victim I was trained to be for over thirty years of my life; living in severe scarring neglect, broken black fanged plaque covered teeth, beatings to include rape by his favorite shotgun barrel at age twelve; all of these acts to abandon me in the family horrors and to forever hold me silent. At the time I finally escaped my parents and the entire town who watched it all happen those nine long years; he was preparing to hold me captive in a private little mobile home so that HE could hold all of his private little enforced parties. Unfortunately because my perceptions & functions were deeply distorted, I landed in the arms of another vicious attacker. The adult relationships where these repeated types of vicious attacks & crippling fears trapped me in a pattern of accepting threats with weapons pointed at my head, afraid to breathe at night for fear being out of rhythm which would cause my ‘terrorist’ to pull the trigger of the weapon held to my head, or attack by strangulation, kicking, punching, attempted drowning, tied up with a phone cord and locked in a second floor apartment without access to the outside world. It was an ongoing pattern in my life as it is for many others, especially single mothers who have endured such vile acts in childhood. Living in this constant life of fear was a way of life I was not able to escape until I was almost forty years old and the last vicious beating has now left me on disability because of the extreme spinal cord trauma and many vertebral damages throughout my spine. As tragic as this pattern of life might be, even more sad is there was never one person who shared any concern over the many witnessed and heard violent beatings. The many physical traumas alone which included bashing my head off of every solid surface imaginable, including a huge tree slab in the apartment where I was first held captive. My medical costs and physical disabilities continue to mount as I scrounge to hang onto the mindset of a strong survivor brave enough to finally remove the hand of my many ‘Family Terrorist’ who have trapped me from reaching assistance. These imposed constant fears prevented me from finding help for myself and my children, and have left a trauma wounded cycle which continues to invade my children’s parenting abilities and the emotional dysfunctions which impact the lives of my grandchildren.” Trecia Ann – Patricia ‘Trish’ McKnight

Join with me citizens across America, ask our Law Makers, our President,House of Representatives, our Senate and Congress to accept the induction of the ‘Family Terrorist Act’ – ‘Trecia’s Law’ to ensure we prosecute for the inflicted terrorism which is suffered by victims day in and day out, year after year, waiting for a way to escape; then they face the aftermath of destruction from being held PRISONER inside what should be, the protective shield of their very own home.

Please sign and pass it forward – we need your help!!!

You can sign my petition by clicking here.

Much Respect,
Patricia McKnight

All items published by this author are a production part of Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery and are there held under copyright protection Nov. 2012

Patricia A. McKnight

Phone: 618-304-7438
butterflydreamsteam@live.com

trish.mcknight@live.com

Speaker/Advocate/Author: ‘My Justice’

Owner/CEO – Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Child Sexual Abuse Awareness & Prevention Expert

Creator – ‘Steps to Recovery’

Peer Mentor/Assistance Resource/Researcher/Radio Producer & Host

Cert. Human Trafficking 101 Trainer

Illinois Domestic Violence Support Advocate

Panel Member; St. Clair County Domestic Violence Offender Reform Program

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com/

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamsabuserecovery

**Always believe anything is possible with you in the active equation ~~trish mcknight**

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February Talk Radio Guest List and Schedule………..

Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery

Talk Radio Programming

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/butterflydreamsabuserecovery

Call in phone # (347)215-7754

Our programming is a magnificent team of survivors & experts, but each host represents their own specific show and will share with you their upcoming ideas, guests, and programs!! This schedule is for the Monday & Wednesday programs with Trish McKnight and Michal Madison. Be sure to tune in and listen as all of our hosts, including the wonderful Annie O’Sullivan & Kelly Behr, present their special programs for your listening. We do hope you will gather some food for thought as we discuss the very heinous acts of abuse and violence within our homes.

Each independent host will share their upcoming guests & programs!!

**We still would like to talk to some new hosts. We’ve got some open programming days and if you believe this is something you are interested in joining, please let us know. If you have a special focus on these issues and would like to share your talents in your own broadcasted program, please contact Trish McKnight by emailing:

butterflydreamsabuserecovery@gmail.com    Please title as  SHOW HOST in subject line!!

February Guest Schedule!!!!

Feb 04; Monday‘Generation No More’ w/ Trish McKnight & Guest

Ms. Janice Meadows – Hedrick: Very excited to have Janice join in as we continue looking at the studied stats for 2011 reported to the Children’s Bureau. We’ll kick off by talking about the stats in her area of West Virginia, along with some special information she’d like to share about her state and their efforts to prosecute the predators and parents who attack the children. We’ll also be chatting about the Teen Dating Violence awareness month!!! What can you do as a parent to see the warning signs and help your kids understand what they mean? Very proud to share Janice is our very first Premier Supporter for our radio programming. We truly appreciate her ongoing work and devotion to this cause!!

Feb 06; Wednesday‘Survivors World’ w/ Trish & Michal

Natasha Hagan: Natasha is an avid fighter and promoter for RAINN.org (Rape, Abuse, Incest National Network). Miss Hagan is going to share her journey from victim to thriver as she is now one of the leading voices of this organization and manager of Team Strick. She’s traveled to Washington D.C., she’s met with some amazing stars and now she comes to share her ongoing journey as she speaks to break down the walls of silence about these vicious crimes.

Feb 11; Monday‘Generation No More’ w/ Trish & Guest

Nell Cole:  Advocate/Radio Producer & Host of Firetalk Productions blog talk radio program, Ms. Nell Cole will join in on a educational and awareness discussion about the crimes of abuse & violence throughout centuries.  Nell is an advocate for all injustice; not only speaking with those who have been harmed within our country, but she also discusses many various topics throughout history, such as: Sexual Healing, Orphans & Abuse, Historic topics of varying degrees. You’ll find her a wonderful, compassionate and highly intellectual person who sees these crimes and speaks the truth, breaking down the walls of secrets!!

Feb 13; Wednesday‘Survivors World’ w/ Trish & Michal

This night will be a call in night for our listeners to share your views on the topics of discussion. This broadcast will focus ‘Coping Strategies of the Trauma Survivor’. Michal did some research and found a few amazing articles about how survivors will use the coping they learned during the trauma of abuse throughout many of the difficult challenges in their adult life. Cannot wait to discuss and share with all of you on this topic!!! Please be sure to join us as we open up all the phones and our chatroom for your input.

Feb 18; Monday‘Generation No More’ w/ Trish & Guest

Denise Rotheimer: This is sure to me one powerful discussion. Mom, turned advocate, Founder of ‘Mothers on a Mission to Stop Violence’; Ms. Rotheimer is taking the battle of victims rights in the state of Illinois all the way to the U. S. Supreme Court. You’ll hear how her daughter was a child victim and how ‘Jasmine’s Law’ HB5187 also know as the Survivor Rights Act is the mission of this mom as she gains appellate justice for all victims and witnesses of violent crimes. Please listen in as this is sure to be one for the records as we discuss the foundation and her own personal battle in that very sensitive and often violated issue of Victims Rights vs. Rights of the Accused. Denise Rotheimer is also host of the cable television show, ‘Enforce Justice’.

Feb 20; Wednesday‘Survivors World’ w/ Trish & Michal

Janice Hedrick: Back on the show with us, this time Janice will be talking about her history of growing up in a drunken, raged filled home. Escaping and running into the hope of a new life, unfortunately to be attacked, raped and walking the path of the lost for almost 2 years. Janice is going to share with us the many secrets she has never spoken of before and we’ll discuss the impact of the sexual attack and how our mental health is impacted by the trauma. This is one for all rape survivors, you know the dark path of fear and loss that is felt. Please join in to support this courageous supporter/advocate to end the violence within our homes and the crimes of sexual attacks.

Feb 25; Monday‘Generation No More’ w/ Petra Luna of PlunaFoundation

Petra Luna: Singer/Musician/Artist/Advocate/Founder of Plunafoundation, the awesome and strong spoken spirit of Petra Luna comes to our phones. This amazing advocate is creator of MALE ABUSE AWARENESS WEEK!!! An event held December 1st – 8th in San Francisco, California, is dedicated strictly to MALE ABUSE AWARENESS!! Petra gives an exciting concert event and a week full of activities all directed to give our guys their macho male spirit and honoring what they have endured. Our male victims are becoming more recognized with the great efforts of Petra and her foundation to help guys understand, speak out and cope with the many difficult battles of being a survivor of rape and child abuse. You can join in the new Facebook Supporter Group by clicking on this link………. https://www.facebook.com/home.php?sk=group_188508034535018#!/groups/188508034535018/

Feb 27; Wednesday – ‘Survivors World’ w/ Trish & Michal

Michal and I will open up our phone lines again and open up the topic of discussion as we take your shares about your journey of being a survivor. This show will focus on the issues of Domestic/Relationship Violence. There are many controlling factors when you speak of this type of violence. It can expand from the very least of keeping track of your actions, isolation, degradation, financial control, to the very brutal physical attacks which can often be almost deadly or life crippling. Join in as Michal and I take your calls and your stories about the survivors of these types of violence in our dating relationships and more common, those that happen within our homes by those who promise to be our partners, love us, respect us; in the end to torture and control us. We will close out our February month with a full discussion on the Relationship/Dating Violence our teens also deal with and how we can become aware to help them escape before the worst possible action happens.

Remember you were not brought into this world to have your spirit destroyed by the evil of those around you. There is life after abuse and you too can find your path to freedom!!

You deserve a safe place to sleep

You deserve respect

You deserve kindness & support

You deserve as much love as you freely give to others

You deserve roses in your garden of life!!

Thank you for supporting, sharing, and listening in on our programs. It’s sure to be a fantastic month with a lot of debate. Hope you will recommend the shows to your friends and family as we all step up to break down the wall of silence about these vicious crimes.

© Patricia A. McKnight

Founder/CEO: Butterfly Dreams Abuse Recovery & Blog Talk Radio Programming

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com

Butterfly Dreams Talk Radio & Abuse Recovery

Author; ‘My Justice’ 

http://www.butterflydreamsabuserecovery.com/home_tmp_6314.html

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

Please email to: butterflydreamsabuserecovery@gmail.com