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Usernamesereenastaffordbeckwood
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I am a 28 year old mother of three. I still have alot of growing up to do, this I realize. I am glad to say that I am actually healing from day to day. From damage caused by a severe traumatic childhood. I want to share some of my stories so that I can help others who have been or still going through sexual and/or verbal abuse.
Deprived Of Innocence
May 16, 2018 6 years ago'It's been a good year for the roses', by George Jones is playing loudly through the cassette player. As I toss and turn lying nervously alone in my bed. Praying that I can fall asleep before everything gets bad. Before my dad gets shit-faced wasted. Before my mother gets her ass beat again. This same routine happened every single day. As if I were an actual re-run playing on my t.v. But this night was different from all the rest. I didn't just lay there in fear. Dressed in my well worn Barbie night gown, down the hallway I fled. Attempting to help mommy, afraid if I didn't then soon she'd be dead. "Daddy stop", I screamed. And low and behold, he actually listened to me. Suddenly a feeling of peace came over me. And just as fast as it came, he took it right back. I was told to sleep between mommy and daddy that night. Is this my reward for being so brave? Although I finally knew what it felt like with being content with my surroundings, it only lasted for a very short time. It was within thirty minutes when I felt daddy's hand caress me. He was being nice but yet it still just didn't feel right . After playing like I was asleep for so long, I started to actually doze off.. But daddy's hand wouldn't allow me. I wake up at the sound of an alarm clock and literally sit straight up. Startled at the memory of last night's despair. Frightened at the thought of what may happen next. Although I probably should have cried, I didn't. I didn't have time. Emotions are running wild. The school bus would be here soon. Relieved to be leaving home but at the same time I'm not ready to face the mean black kids at school. When I was at school I wanted to go home. When I was at home I wanted to go to school. But never did I want to be where I was at . 'I just wanna go home' I spoke aloud. Lying alone in my bed. Tears soaked my cheeks. Feelings of confusion and loneliness consumed me. On so many occasions I recall lying in bed alone and scared thinking out loud to myself. I guess you could say I was praying. Crying out for help. Though no one could hear me if I wanted them to with the loud music that was always playing.
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