My unfortunate store started when i was 8 yrs old. My mother had just married a man she had only known a very short time (5 months). He started molesting me within days of the wedding and slowly progressed to rape. I was to scared to tell anyone until i was 12 yrs old. I had a emotional break down at school. They contacted CPS and i was removed. Well that didn’t last long as my mother told me during one of our visits that she was signing her rights away. Terrified that i was losing my family i told the case worker that i had lied and was sent back to my life of hell. The abuse started again but this time it was much worse.
I became pregnant at 15 with his child and told people that it was from someone else. After having the child i began drinking and doing drugs to somehow cope with the pain. My mother and the beast cared for my son as i dug myself deeper into my personal hell. Each time i would come home, he would rape me. It got to the point i stopped coming home for fear of it happening again.
I ended up meeting a very nice man (or so i thought at the time) who took me off the streets. Within 2 weeks of being together, he physically abused me so i left…he and a friend found me within days and kidnapped me by gun point. They drove me to Florida (mind you i live in Washington state), the entire trip was filled with complete terror. His favorite game to play with me was Russian rulet. But instead of pointing it at himself, he would point it out the window then back at me. He would rape, beat and torture me on a daily basis. I had finally had it after one of the worst beatings. I was able to convince a girl that was there watching me, that i needed to run to the corner market while he was gone. She was terrified but said to hurry up before they came back. Well once i got to the store i used the payphone to contact police.
I was in such bad shape from the beating that the officer took me to the hospital himself (i had been kicked in the face over and over with steal toed boots). At the hospital i found out i was pregnant once again (my other son at this time was 4). Finding that out gave me the strength i needed.
I hitch hiked home with truck drivers in the dead of winter. By the grace of God, every one of them were complete gentle men and did nothing but help me.
Unfortunately i continued meeting men that were abusive for many years. Finally this last 4 yrs i have decided to not date. To take the time to get to know who i am and learn to love myself. I had went from men abusing me to me abusing me. I still find it extremely hard to forgive myself for what those monsters did to me. I don’t know why i even have to or why i feel like i do.
Its a daily fight to get out of bed and look myself in the mirror…..ugh.
— Carrie, age 41