When I was 7 my parents decided to move to Canada. My grandparent's didn't have legal custody of me and I had to go with them... why they didn't leave me where I was I'll never know.
When we got to Canada my mother was pregnant again and very sick. I became the slave of the house having to do all the chores, do whatever my brothers wanted me to do and especially do whatever my father seemed to think he needed done. If anything wasn't done up to his 'standard' I would have to redo whatever it was... like washing down the bathroom with a toothbrush... with him watching every move or re-ironing ALL his shirts because 1 hadn't been done one right. On top of that I still had to go to school and get good marks or I'd be beaten for that too.
I really don't remember much of the next 7 yrs. What I do remember are bits and pieces and the more I remember the more painful it gets. I remember being locked up and having to wait for my father to get home so he could beat me for something I did wrong sometime during the day. Summer holidays were hell. I would have to get my youngest brother to stand guard so I could get out of my room to go to the bathroom.... and if he wasn't around I was out of luck and there would be hell to pay for any mishaps then too. I got to the point that I would laugh at my father when he was beating me because it didn't hurt anymore, but the one thing I had no defence for was the constant mental abuse... always being told how useless, ugly, dumb and a total waste of space I was. There are a few things that are so horrible that I still don't want to think of them and I won't talk about them at all.
At one point I had to go and live with my aunt and uncle for about a year. I don't remember why. Anyway my year there was more abuse .. only it was sexual this time. I think I was 10 at the time, I don't remember exactly. I know I missed a whole year of school that year.
When I finally wound up back at my parents again things just kept getting worse and worse. My mother had to leave town for a while-I don't remember why-... but just before she left my father and I had another huge fight... he was so mad he threatened to kill me... and I had a hunting knife under my pillow for protection... I took it out and said 'go ahead, I really don't care'...I guess that shocked him a bit because before my mother left I was sent off to live with another aunt and uncle...
They were ok for a while but then the slavery started all over again... and of course I could do nothing right...When the physical abuse started I had had enough...I tried to kill myself... and just about succeeded... I required 2 transfusions and a lot of stitches before I was able to leave the hospital... in the custody of my Church Pastor...
I spent the next few days sleeping in the pastor's office and then the 'chats' started... I couldn't stand to be touched and he was going to help me to understand that it was ok to be 'friendly' with people... and not to jump and try to hit whoever got too close...accidental or not... I suppose it started innocently enough... and I sometimes wonder if he really did start out to help... but in the end it wound up being more sexual abuse... I was 14...
I had had enough and left... I never did go back to my parents... I went to the States...I met a wonderful guy who was stationed at Bremerton(sp)Washington, at the naval base... and we began a wonderful relationship... It was as if I became another person... I even had a nickname that I used all the time... no one knew my real name for the longest time except John and he never used my real name... John was a marine and when he shipped out to San Diego I followed him down there...He had an old Indian Motorcycle that we used to tour around all the backroads in southern California... John was due to be shipped out to Viet Nam anytime so we had as much fun as we could get into what time we had... We got lucky because his ship out date kept being posponed and we had almost 5 months of touring around. We slept where ever we got tired... sometimes at the side of the road...or some farmer's field or barn.
Then came the time for John to leave... I went up to San Francisco because we had some friends there... they got me a job at a fish shop on the warf... a few months later I got a letter telling me that John was MIA... I was devistated... I stayed around S.F. for a while longer and then went back to Canada...I still keep in touch with his sister and even tho the government has now listed John as KIA - his sister and I still won't accept that until they have proof of a body...
When I got back to Canada I became a different person again and spent a lot of time with the gay community in Vancouver... I still have a lot of friends there...
Eventually I found a great guy to marry and we wound up with 2 wonderful children and now a grandson... but now the tables have turned on me again... and the man I once loved now treats me like dirt... and I'm stuck with another mentally abusive man.... and in a situation that is hard to take but also hard to walk away from.... we've been married for over 30 yrs...
I know exactly where things started to go bad for us... it was when a lot of the memories started to come back and I needed help to deal with them and he said he didn't want anything to do with it.... that was just before our 1st child... I have hung on so long and now more memories and flashbacks are hitting me and still he doesn't want to have anything to do with it.... How can I handle it when the one person who is supposed to be there for you keeps saying no... I have no help here... the nearest support is over and hour and a half away... any my Psych is in Vancouver...up to 8 hrs away... now you know why I need the help or you all... There is way more to this but I have written enough for now...
Maybe don't bring up your past to your husband anymore, slowly let it go, and talk to us here, we are all here for you...