My story

For everyone who wants to know who I am here is a small glimps into my past. Some of you already know that I was abused, mainly the Affected by Abuse support group. This is my story...

I was born in a small town in KS in September of 1985, my family moved sortly afterwards to CA (don't ask me were I don't know). I was the first born, and would be an only child for five years.

When I was two my Mom moved her and I up to Tacoma, WA; my father was to follow when he could get transfered with what ever company he was working with at that time.

We moved around alot, even stayed with some family friends a few times, I have more memories of this time then I do of later years.

When I was five my brother was born, I hated him for the first few weeks because he wasn't the sister I really wanted. Man that wore off quick! My brother became my world, I loved him so. I wanted to help Mom take care of him, even learned how to change diapers.

Saddly my world was torn apart about 8 - 10 months after he was born. My Mom took my brother with her down to a funeral for a family member. I had to stay home with my father. Mom had no reason to suspect that it wasn't safe to do so. She was only gone for a day and a half, but I wasn't the same when she came home.

While she was gone my father sexually abused me, nothing real heavy yet, just touching me. I was so confused and uncomfertable, all I wanted was Mom to come home. I told her what had happened when she came home and she confronted him right away. There was alot of yelling and the police came out and made a report but nothing was ever done about it, in fact we couldn't find the report 5 years ago when I took him to court finally.

We moved out of that apartment a few months later, that's when things really went down hill. My fragmented memories make it really hard to put a true timeline to things, but the flashbacks that I've had are horrable.

I know that one night after my Mom went to work (paper route) he came into my room and woke me up yelling and screaming at me. Calling me worthless and ugly. The usual stuff that abusers use to degrade their victumes with words. Then came the first blow, a back hand to the face. The force knocked me down, he made ready to stomp on me and I scrambled backwords. He sent kicks in my direction, even landed a few. Saddly the room was small and there wasn't far for me to go, I was cournered very quickly. I sat in the courner left side exposed, I quickly wrapped my right arm around my side and through my left arm up to protect my head. He kicked me in the ribs and I heard a cracking sound and instantly it was hard to breathe. I can't remember if I started coughing instantly or if it was after he left me alone for the night. He did leave the room at this point, but he came back in less then a min. He had been hunting with his friend recently and he hadn't cleaned his hunting knife yet. He showed me that dangerous knife, still with blood on it. "You know what I'll do to you if you ever tell on me again? I'll kill you with this knife, but only after I've killed that cry-baby (my brother) and your mother with you watching." He held the knife to my throght as he said that with just enough pressure to cut the first few layers of skin, but not enough to bleed.

I told my Mom that my side was hurting and that I had a cough. She told my father to take me to the doctor after he picked me up from school. Some how I managed to keep everyone at school from noticing that I was coughing up pink froth. He never took me to the doctor.

Instead as punishment for telling Mom that I was hurting he smothered me with my pillow and then raped me. I think I was only 5 at the time, however I may have been 6, time line is still really patchy.

This happened on and off, again and again, untill I was 15. Then all of a sudden he stopped. My parents had devorced when I was 11 or 12 and they had shared my brother and I. My father pretty much ignored the excistance of my brother unless an outsider was watching. Verbally/ emotionally abused my Mom through out their whole marrage, and alittle afterward too.

I was homeschooled for a time for 2-4th grades and when I went back to public school I felt so lost, I was only a shell of a person with a mask. I had a really hard time making friends, in fact it was the second year I was in school before I had a real friend. Best friendship I've ever had, it endures to this day.

I switched school distrects after that year and had to go through the process all over again, but this time it didn't take as long. In fact four of the friends I made that year are still friends to this day. Middle school was a rough time for me, my Mom and step Dad's house burnt down during the summer between 7th and 8th grade year. For me in a way it was almost like I had a clean slate, but that didn't last long. We stayed with an aunt while we looked for a new house, my father stayed there on weekends; I hated weekends!

We finally found a new house and moved in half way through my 8th grade year. It was a small house that needed alot of work and had no carpet; but it was in a lake community where I made a few friends easily and I was living with my Mom and step dad full time then. My brother really liked it there and made lots of friends in the neighborhood.

My father started dating around when I hit highschool, even found someone when I was 15. He said they were in love, I think she loved him truely but I don't think that he is capable of love. He moved in with her just before my 16th birthday. She is a great woman, my step Mother, just very ignorant by choice. He married her shortly after. They started looking for a house to buy and my step Mother got pregnant. It was a girl... I moved in with them to go to school in a different district, I was having problems with my grades and therefore I was behind in my credits. This was a calculated move on my part to make sure I would be able to graduate on time, help my step Mom with the baby, and keep an eye on my father. I made sure my door had a good lock on it. My sister was born the day before I turned 17.

After battling with myself for half the school year I moved back in with my Mom and asked to be put into counsuling. I had a 2 hour commute to and from school every day and I saw a counsuler once a week. I took me about a month before I had enough courage to tell my story to him. I knew he'd have to report it and that the courts would take over and I would be able to send him to jail.

I went back to the highschool that I had started at, being absent alot because my step Dad was in Iraq and my Mom has MS. I took care of her alot. I was also absent alot because I had insomnia so bad that I would be up for three weeks straight, become so exosted that I'd sleep for a week straight. I wish I was exaggerating how bad it was but I'm not. On top of that my body decided that I needed to grow 5 inches in 6 months. Talk about painful! And of course on top of that all was the time I spent getting ready for the courts, lots of intereviews. I changed my name as soon as I turned 18, Grace Marie is not my orginal middle name, Lindsay was, L to match my father; and I took my step Dad's last name.

Just before my Dad came home from Iraq was the court date. They let him have the sosa program, a few month in jail and he was free. They even labled the son of a bitch as a level one so most people won't ever even know what he did. Of course I didn't have very many memories at all of what had happened, in fact it was only November 2008 after a car accident that the flash backs really started coming.

Just after I graduated my Dad adopted my brother and I. That was one of the happiest days of my life. My Dad was there for me though alot of things, including when my husband and I broke up and he refused his son. My Dad was my birthing partner, went to every single class, as many apointments as he could and was there in the hospital room with me, so was my Mom and my brother for that matter.

Now I'm a stay at home Mom. My son is 4 and my world. Mom's MS has only recently gotten the better of her, some 8 years later then predicted, but she is still independent just no longer able to drive. My brother has moved out and is living with his girlfirend of three years.

Needless to say I've had a tough start, but you can only go up from the bottom, and I'll never hit bottom again! I'm a surviver, and nothing can keep me down for long!

Jade Hjerte
Talia
~Jesi