It is my pleasure.  Just support him and let him know that his feelings are okay to have!

at 52 I have alot of distain for abusers including my own. I wish they would all go to prison for life, I dont care if they were abused as a child, as an adult they had chioces. I hold by abuse cloose to my body by being obese and lonely. I do have adopted children and I pay back my abusers unintentionly by being the best Parent I can be and loving those that were not loved . My kids respond well to that kind of love, but I know that even though thier hearts have mended they have a scar. I have a scar to more from those that did not help me or even believe me, for years I could not understand why no one believed me  untill I started reading books written by people who were abused and wishing that I had thier life instead of mine. My abuse was so bad and so bazzare and last so long and done by several people that normal people had a hard time believing that such things could happen. i lived with the Devil and my hell was my home, my step father found his forever family with my mom and her 5 daughters after being kicked out of other families for abusing their daughters. See they had something in common the desire to sexually abuse children, at first there was only a few incidents of physical abuse but even those were very bad, I got my butt burn on a radiater for drying my wet underware on it in the middle of the night, I still have a scar and many areas on my face and head I had stiches that is before the devil came there was alot of neglect to but that was the best time in my life. I loved my life even with the abuse before he came, I did not know that what my mom was doing was sexual abuse intill I was in college and took a human sexuality class. I did not know that physical abuse was wrong because I believed her when she said I made her do it. My mom died a few years ago and I only feel sad for the hope I had for a loving mom that died when she died, I dont believe she is in heaven, My step father is still alive, Have you ever heard the saying "the devil never dies?" That is right he never dies, I was still being abused by him as an adult the last time he sexually abused me was when my mom was alive christmas day 2006, I was 46. He actually met me and my sisters who arrived one at a time at their front door and grabbed our breasts for more than a second and not one of us ever thought to call the police.We kept going back hoping this would be the day mom would love us, it never happened, she even hurt us in her death by the reading of her will telling us what bad kids we were and disenheirted us at the same time leaving each of us a penny. I did not expect anything from her anyway I also did not expect he hate for her own children. Maybe the pain would have gone away had I not tried so hard to get love that was never available to me in the first place, if I had not kept going back. But I dont think the pain from those who did not believe me will ever go away. My mom amazingly called PS on her sister once and my aunt responded by saying she can not understand why she would do that because she never called CPS on her, she said that in front of my sibling and me, we all stood stunned and none of s has gone to see her sence, I still hear my great aunt blame us for my moms death, you know the stress we put her in with our lies, she is a minister her husband molrsted my mo and her sisters. I know I sound angry and I am But I try not to let this interferr with my destiny in my life which is raising my kids right.

I am so glad to hear your words of survival.  You reassure me.  My son was abused and he is still healing and I have often wondered how it will affect him the rest of his life.  Especially in the world today with so many temptations to escape.   I am encouraged to hear that you did find a way to live with it and not let it totally ruin and dictate your life.  I am very sorry this happened to you, but thank you for sharing and giving me hope for my child.

I, like many other people, have an abuse story.  I could share, triggers and all, but I feel my better story is that I am still here.  I had many paths that I could have gone down.....but didn't.  I've never had a drug or alcohol problem.  I was not ever a "Wild child".  Was suicidal briefly during my teens and have battled with depression most of my life.  Would I have had depression anyway?  Perhaps, as it seems to run in the family.  The main lingering issue seems to be my weight.  I carry weight with me.  I could say it makes me feel a bit better by not being the target of unwanted looks from men.  I need to feel "bigger" to not feel like a victim.  I also feel safer that I would not be the first target from a would be rapist.  Sounds silly, I know. 

  The past can dictate what you are like as an adult, but I chose to use it to make me a more sensitive and empathic person.

I WROTE U ABOUT MY ABUCIVE PROBLEM WITH MY FAMILY, THE STAIN THAT THE ISRAELI GOV PUT ON ME ABOUT MY AMRICAN FRIEND THAT I TORED IN 2 THE AMRICAN LAW, HE'S IN JAIL NOW, I'M WAITING 4 A CORT HEARING 2 PROVE Financial crime and psychiatric hybridization, hope I WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT, PLEASE KEEP THE COPY OF THE LETTER THAT I'VE SENT 2U & YUVAL DISKIN THE FORMER HAD OF THE SHABAK WHO WAS WITH MY BROTHER IN THE SAME UNIT, I'LL TRY 2 PROUVE THAT SINCE THEN I NEVER GOT A FAIR SHOT IN WORKING MARKET & WAS HOSPETELIESED 4 NOTHING I MIGHT WANT UR OR DR FRANK LOLIES PSCHIATRIC EVLUATION, I BELIEVE THAT MY BROTHER WANTS ME DED CAUSE OF MY INHERTIONS!!! THANK U LEAH

I think I was 9....the first time was in my house, my dad was getting high in his room and his friend was in the living room with me watching tv. He just sticks his hands down my pants and then licks his fingers. He does that for a solid hour and my body was so numb because it felt wrong, but if it was wrong he wouldn't have been doing it, right? Then second time I was at my friend's house and her grandfather who didn't speak a lick of English was in the living room. She went to the kitchen for something and her grandfather just grabbed my face and started french kissing me. The taste still lingers in my mouth till this day. The third time was at our neighbors house. Oscar was a friend of the family ( at my mother's and step-fathers house ). My siblings and I used to go to his place all the time and ride his horses, something we couldn't do in the city. Oscar said I was old enough to ride the horses alone and so I did, I took that horse around the block by myself, thrill of a lifetime. I went back inside and he was there waiting and he took me into his room and he told me to bend over and he pulled my pants down. He said "trust me" and so I did, just like that. What do I know, I'm only a kid. He pulled his pants down and he was rubbing against my backside. Once capable he began raping me. He never finished because my younger sister thank god walked into the house looking for me, he pulled up his pants and threw me in the closet. He told my sister he was showing me his baseball card collection. I never said anything else but he just gave me the cards and sent me on my way. That night while people were sleeping I went to his front yard and threw a metal bucket with the cards in it down and then lit it on fire. I never saw that bastard again and even after the day he died I felt no relief. He lives in my head and I don't know how to get him out. I have only told 2 other people this story, but I am currently in therapy with hopes that this could help me before it ruins my marriage. Just typing this makes me physically sick. I hope I can teach my kids to listen to their gut, and if something doesn't seem or feel right then don't be afraid to get away and tell someone.

I completely understand your family dynamics.  I was overly disciplined as a child. I was whipped with a skinny stick from the back yard that left marks on my legs, and made me too embarrassed to wear dresses to school.  The most unfair part to me as a child was,  my younger sibling didn't get spankings at all.  She would do something I did at her age that got me a spanking, and she would not get one.  I would ask my mother, why didn't my sister get a spanking for that.  I did at her age?  My mom said "fine, I will spank her".  I went hysterical and cried "No, please don't spank her, I didn't mean to say that, I will take her spanking".  My mom laughed and said, "I wasn't going to spank her, calm down".  I had mixed emotions.  I didn't think it was fair she didn't get spanked and I did, but I didn't want her to get spanked either.  The real issue, was I didn't want to get spanked or whipped.  My mother would sit at the table most of the day smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee and talking on the phone.  If I interupted her, I got smacked up side the head, or she would put her hand over the phone end and threaten to beat my butt if I didn't leave her alone.....even though it was lunch time.  Parents can be so selfish sometimes.  You are not alone.....families were, are and probably will always be dysfunctional.  The best thing you can do is talk about it and spit out the poison from the snake bites.   Love ya.  Hope you feel better.  Grace.

It began at age 4 I had my first nervous breakdown from my parents arguing.  There was talk of another woman and my father drinking at the bar too much.  As if the arguing wasn't enough, my father whom I adored slamed out the front door.  In my mind he was leaving me and never coming back.  I grabbed at the inside of the door, and let out a chilling cry, my eyes rolled back in my head and everything went black.  I do not remember the rest of the night of the next few days, until he returned.  At this age my parents never spanked me, raised their voices at me or punished me, but my mother had this strange punching game she used to play with her siblings growing up. (my mom was only 16 when pregnant with me) My mom would say "come here" and if I did she punched me in the arm.  It hurt very much, and I would run away from her. She would say "ohhh, that didn't hurt, come here, I won't punch you again" I was hesitant, but I would walk over to her again, and again get punched while she laughed "gotcha" I would run away, and again she would ask me to come over to her again, she wanted to give me a hug and would PROMISE, not to punch me.  I was so very reluctant, but I slowly with my head down would walk over very slowly, hoping for a hug, and BAM, she punched me and started laughing "you are so stupid"  I would cry because it hurt, and I would tell her not to punch me. (I will tell you later why this was not abusive to me, and easy to forgive)  I was a very mild mannered child, and easy to get along with. I did not fuss much, so I was given a lot of adoring attention by both my parents.  My dad decided to quit drinking, and my parents put their relationship back together.  We moved from Edmonds, WA, to Arlington, WA about a half hour away from a city/suburb like environment to a farming community. We moved to the country. When I was 5 I had a little sister, and at age 7 my father decided to start attending church.  This is when the nightmares begin.  The church was teaching parent not to 'spare the rod and spoil the child", which meant spanking.  This opened up a wound in my father so huge, it is unbearably painful for him to admit or discuss.  My grandfather (I never met because he died before I was born) (I am about to start crying at how hard life was for my parents as children growing up, I wish I could have been there to take care of them)  used to spank my father with an extention cord, and give him a whooping like no other to my sweet little boy father, just for being precousious and curious. My father liked to play Superman, and had a wild imagination.  He lied alot, but didn't mean it.  He was just playing.  His father would overdiscpline his every infraction with a whooping.  Guess when my whoopings started?.......When my father started attending church like his father, and they started in with the spare the rod and spoil the child nonsense.  They did not interpret it as being strong, staffed with a gentle hand to guide the sheep towards their safe destination, they said "HIT THAT CHILD"!  The church told my damaged as a child father to continue the cycle of abuse.  I couldn't question my mother if she asked me to do something without getting slapped across the head by her as if she was knocking some sense into me.  If I was late coming home from a friends house, I knew I would get a spanking just for being late, so to attempt to avoid a spanking, my parents made a liar out of me.  I would say "thier clock was broke, or their mother forgot to tell me when to go home".  So now I was late and a liar and got a whooping for both infractions.  I got my last spanking in 6th grade for waking my sister up from a nap so I could go out and play, because I was anxious my parents left her with me alone at the house to be at the neigbors visiting.  When I lied and told them she woke up on her own, my father marched me home, made me go get the ritual willow switch stick from the back yard, and I was wearing shorts because it was summer, he whipped me up and down the back of my legs and buttox as he always did.  There were times, I would not wear a dress to school the next day because I was embarrassed of the broken skin lines and blood and scabs on the backs of my legs.  I healed from this child abuse, because my dad told me everytime he spanked me, before he spanked me.  "I love you very much, and I want you to know the difference between right and wrong, and be disciplined and grow up to teach the difference between right and wrong, and this hurts me more than it hurts you. I do not enjoy, like or want to do this, but I will to make sure you grow up proper".  Then he would spank me, and give me a hug afterwards, wipe my tears from my eyes, and tell me to go and get a wash cloth from my mother to wash my face, and I was forgiven.  My mother would gently put her arms around my shoulder and get me a warm wash cloth, and sweetly say, "now wash your face", and she would give me a little hug from behind on my shoulders.  As I said earlier, my mother liked to play the punching game with me, and most people would say that was abusive and cruel, and it was, but not intentionally.  My mother was heartsick and temporarily mentally ill from having lost half of a 13 member family to a house fire.  This is a game she used to play with 5 of her siblings that she saw burn to death through a kitchen window of the house. Six siblings survived and she played this game with them too.  My mother saw me as more than just a daughter.  She saw me as a friend, playmate, sibling and responsibility.  She probably didn't even know it was me she was playing the game with, I am certain she thought it was one of her older siblings, and she was still a child too, playing an aggressive game of punch that they enjoyed playing, and nobody got hurt.....too much.  They were much bigger when they played this game, and ran away from each other in circles. This was a 1950's game, kids were tough, and were tested on their toughness, and to not be crybabies.  I am sure they had hours of fun playing this game. Even at age 4 I knew my Mom was special.  When my dad spanked me, I didn't like it, but I was wise enough to know about intent. I knew my Dad was not intentionally abusing me.  He believed with all his heart he was doing the will of the Lord Jesus Christ, and to him that was the highest calling.  I personally believe the pastor of the church mislead him in the scripture.  The rod, or staff as it may be called also is used by the good shepard to lead his flock home safely.  My dad was brainwashed, and had old wounds from his father opened wide.  If he could validate his father spanking him, then he could feel loved by his dad, who never said a word when he spanked him, except things like "behave".  My dad has mixed emotions about his father....he has told me he loves him and misses him, but he also said his dad was too hard on him, and that hurt him.  I think my dad was too hard on me, and that did hurt me, but not hurt enough to carry the hurt.  I knew kids at school that had been abused, and they had bruises and black eyes. I felt bad for them.  I knew I was like them, but my dad wasn't.  My dad honestly believed in what he was doing, and he never disciplined me angry, except once, and he apologized for that. I would say on average from the time I was 7 years old until 6th grade, I got spanked an average of twice a week.  I dreaded my dad coming home sometimes.  My Mom would say...."wait til your father comes home".  My dad resented my mother making his daughter fear him for hours and when he came home, he banned anymore spankings. He said "you spank her when it happens or not at all."  No more mind torture.  I appreciated my dad for that.  I healed because I love my parents, and I understand them as people, they are not charachters to me. They are real people with real pains, and I love them, and want them to heal from thier childhoods, by not holding any grudges. 

I am at this moment surprised to find myself typing this because I have always tried to keep my issues in perspective but I find at this point/stage in my life, I could use others opinions and mabe support.
I am the youngest of four children which have 5 years or better between births.( My mother had to have someone holding her hand, she was lonely)  After many years of coping and trying to understand without animation I have come to know different terms but by no means do I think I now everything and I am still dealing with the same abuse even as a grown woman.I and my siblings were all severely punished. When ever I did something wrong  when I say wrong there was never a constant as to what was wrong or right given the mood of the day. I don't know exactly when it started but my sisters started doing the punishments to me also, even as it was happening to them. My mother would not help and always blamed things on us. ( If you wouldn't do this or that it wouldn't happen) she would pour herself a drink and lite a cigerette and that was the end of that. I could only believe it would stop one day but as I got older the abuse became more psych than physical. Still coming from my siblings as well as my father ( Mother passed) she and I were friends in the end but I have severed the family ties.Although I tried to be a good daughter to my aging father, I can not. I can't get passed the hate. I didn't have children of my own because of him ( wasn't so sure what he did wasn't in the family DNA). There were terrible things in the past, he always found something to blame his behavior on and not "own up". So, as I read this, I know there are people out there who suffer with much more ( I won't even compare) I couldn't keep the desease from spreading. It's ground into grandchildren now and so I have built my own family with people and friends I love, people who love me. I am married and happily, I don't think that would've been possible if I hadn't walked away and said no more, not me.(this is my 4th marriage) I hope this reaches someone else who may have the same dilema. I left out alot on history because at this point it only adds to my frustration, and I have wasted enough time with that. Leaving them to deal with their stuff has removed me from being the taunt and reason for all their problems. I thought my existance was the cause of many of the family problems at one time in my life. That is what I was told. I have stopped being hard on myself and let go of the past. I hope one day I can let go of the hate.

Hi, I read what you wrote and have often wondered the same thing.
Good for you to mention it, feedback is extremely important when we rip off of our masks and really show what we are hiding underneath, or who we really are, and it's sad when it doesn't happen.

Good Luck!