October has ended, and Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Then the ever dreaded Christmas again. This year I am feeling just a little different. As I said in my last blog the roads you choose for yourself can make a difference in your life. I chose to leave Las Vegas and move back to a place where I felt safe, away from a family who could care less if I lived or died. These are people who hide from the truth, and try to cover up sins of the past, by smoking pot or taking pills, or plain denial.

What is,IS, Nothing can erase the fact that I was abused for all the years of my young life by the hands of my Mother and her husband of that time. Funny how the blame shifted from one person to the other when this blog came out. And even funnier when all of a sudden I became the villain for exposing the truth. I think I won though because, I finally just don't care anymore, and I don't care who knows about it. I am happier that I have exposed the abusers for who and what they are. I feel now that it's out in the open I can live for the first time, a happy life. I have been able to move forward in my life. I sleep a little better, I am no longer the angry person I used to be, and can enjoy the simple things of life. I am happier in my marriage, my work, and haven't looked back.

 Little reminders pop up every now and again, that throw me a little but that's to be expected. I figure let them smoke their pot, pop their pills and continue to live a lie. Let them live with themselves and their failed loser lives.  Only when they come to terms with the lie will they learn, what, they really lost.

It would seem they are all getting old and dying one by one sick and alone. It's now a little to late, to admit to anyone let alone themselves, where things went wrong and what could have been done to stop the terror.  Me and my brothers have paid a dear price all our lives for what was done to us. Our own failed marriages, drug addictions, anger, impudance, and most of all any chances for a normal life. Just recently I had a cousin state that I was bitter and should get over it. Coming from a person who still sucks their thumb in public at the age of 40 or 50 something, I just laughed and thought to myself this is what pittiful people say when they lack intellegence, and class.

Funny, how really stupid statements like that become the carma of their own sorry lives. I am no longer bitter. I am beginning to live! I mean really live. I have learned to be honest and open about how I feel about things. No longer am I a prisioner of my past. Dark bitterness can no longer hurt me, nor their dumb statements. I am flying high on life and enjoying my husband and business, taking chances that I never thought I would take and I am making it in this world. In spite of what I have been through! Life is just beginning for me. For once I am happy and content with myself, no longer hiding in shame. I love it! Abuse doesn't have to control you, you can over come it, your past can't hurt you once it is exposed. It's just a state of mind you keep yourself in, let go and let God heal you.

Happy Thanks Giving

Cj

Life's Journey

Life's Journey

 All to often the road we travel takes turns. Some winding and some straight, and there always seems to be detours that get us off track.  Who knows how you will end up at the end of the road. Will people remember who you were, or what you did with your life, or how you ended up the way you did? Will you be the same person or someone unrecognizable?

I am a firm believer in the fact that you are in control of what road you choose, and the journey you place your self on. Especially if your a survivor of abuse. When you were a child you had no control, you were powerless to save yourself from your abusers, but when you became of age, you did. From the time you knew how to say yes or no, and the difference of wright and wrong, you, believe it or not, were in control. You may not have realize it then, and maybe some of you still don't. Thank God, for your instincts to survive this far.

 I learned that the hard way,  I walked out of my parents home at the age of 19, I had no clue of what was to become of me. That was the first day of the rest of my life! It was my first steps in my journey to freedom and recovery, and I took charge of my destiny from that point forward. Oh I still want to turn and look back sometimes, but only out of fear of the unknown. I know I have to just keep moving forward. I already know the past was dark, unfair, and cruel. But my future is bright and I can see the sun over the hills lighting my path. My life is finally after all these years, beginning to show signs of greater things to come.

When your in a positive direction, there are going to be many detours that will try to stop you. My family tried to detour me from this blog, they were affective for a while, but God is Good and he showed me new signs to help me on my way, so here I am back on my journey to seek peace and happiness in my life. Detours are fine as long as your not stopping, or back tracking, keep moving forward in a positive direction of your life and you will see the difference in your attitude and the life of peace you're deeply seeking.

 Don't let a bad past destroy a wonderful future, always remember anything that happens is only because you allow it.  So don't allow people, places, or things, get in the way of your journey. Peace is patiently waiting for you at the end of your road. The journey may take some time, but at the end, it will be worth every mile you walked. Abuse can be overcome so start walking.

I am very grateful to all who have commented on this blog. You all, are part of the signs that keep me on my journey called life.
Love to you all
Cj

Will the nightmares ever end?

Will the nightmares ever end? I am guessing not. I have been up since 3:30 AM after experiencing a horrific nightmare, of my abuser once again. It would seem anything that was pleasant in my life turned to nothing but a big pile of crap to put it mildly. At the age of 13, I graduated from the 8Th grade and was given a Horse for a gift for doing well in school, he was the most beautiful horse. I had wanted one all my life and dreamed about him long before I could even remember, his name was Shenandoah, a gorgeous chestnut and white paint with a beautiful mane and tail. I got to keep him for almost a full year, until he was taken away from me. I was told he was taken because the board wasn't paid. Why buy something you can't afford to keep! Especially something that was to fulfill a life long child's dream! Didn't they realize how important he was to me, didn't they realize he was the only thing in my life that kept my sanity and made me happy. Did they care? I am guessing not! It would be too much trouble to go with out a pack of cigarettes or some high priced shot gun that would later be another nightmare for us.

I was dreaming about Shenandoah last night, we were riding Thur a beautiful meadow and as we came to a stream on our path I could see on the other side the abuser standing there, waiting to make his move on me, waiting to torture me again as he always did. The very thoughts of this person woke me out of a sound sleep, and threw me into a thought pattern that I couldn't seem to get out of. I sat up in my bed and tried so hard to think of something pleasant, like flowers , horses, anything but it kept bringing me back to his face.  I am now 57 years old, and he has been dead for sometime now and I still can't keep the abuse out of my head! It never stops! I wake up in a cold sweat and screams that no one hears. Again and again I tried to think of something else, but all that was good in my life was turned around to give him the excuse he needed to rape, beat, or to take away, always as punishment for my crime of not submitting to his devious sexual advances.
How I have lived. this long,  with all this bottled up pain, is beyond me, and it's beginning to take a toll on me. I just want to move on and be strong, I want to forget the past and live a happy life.  How can I do this if I keep dreaming it. I can control my thoughts when I am awake, but I can't when I sleep. Praying hasn't helped, booze and drugs are out of the question, any other suggestions?

To Daddy with Love

October 21, 2010 will be the 5th year anniversary of my father's passing on to a greater place, a place of peace, and with out pain, where he could get a good spot to look down on me. I remember that day as if it were this morning, it was so quiet, and peaceful, I could feel his spirit slipping away in the mist of that dark, early morning.   A few of us sat vidual at his bedside as we shared our love for him, remembering the silly stories that he would tell us, we waited with him for that final moment when he would finally be at peace with God.   In my heart I knew the end was near, and I didn't want my Dad to slip away alone, because he used to say, he was always afraid that he was going to die alone, and I promised him that I would never let that happen him. 

    When I arrived in this world, as a tiny newborn baby daughter, he fell in love with me unconditionally, and never ending.  I was the sparkle in his eyes, he held my tiny little hand thinking of new hopes, and dreams for better things to come. So I wanted to hold his hand when he left, just so he would know, that he, was the light in me, and that it would never go out, because his spirit, would always be with me.  As he took his last breath, he peacefully went holding my hand, leaving me to know I had truly handed him over to God, trusting he was never going to hurt, or feel alone again.


    I need to tell you that, I grew up with out my Dad, because he, and my Mother couldn't seem to ever get along, and he could no longer take the fighting and battles that constantly plagued his world. Shattered and broken, he chose to go back in the military and leave his life behind him.  He was a soldier in the 182nd Air born Division of the Army, where he served out his term and then worked as a mercenary for some years to come. He was brave, strong, handsome, funny, yet a quiet solitude type person who enjoyed reading and being a peaceful homebody,and would rather jump from planes and half kill himself then live with a woman who wanted to control every part of his life. Our home was anything but peaceful, and after being there for as long as I was, I can fully understand why he left.



He never turned back, or contacted us personally, because he just couldn't deal with the guilt of walking away and leaving us all behind.     
    The last time I had remembered seeing my Dad, was as a small 3 year old child, it was the day he came to spring me from, Father Bakers Children's Home, I remember running down that long hall way, when I caught glimpse of him, my little legs couldn't run fast enough, I remember leaping into his open loving arms. He had a big smile, and his hugs and kisses washed away all my pains of the cold, and lonely stay in that horrible place. He was my hero, my Knight in Shinning Armor, on a big white horse, and he had finally arrived to rescue me from my captivity, and even in his absence that's how I saw him for the rest of my life.


     My heart broke in a million peaces the day he left and my life would never be the same. I never stopped loving or missing him, I had a hole that couldn't be filled or consoled.  I would see him often in my dreams, I was always waiting and wanting him to come home again, I would see him walking across the streets, in my dreams, and I would wake up crying, saying Daddy please, please wait for me, and he would always tell me; I can't your mother won't let me, you have to ask her first, I would run to ask her, and when I would return he would be so far away that I couldn't catch up, then he would just disappear.  I would often sit and think how different my life would have been if only he was there for me, or maybe my brothers wouldn't have been filled with such anger and hurt. I also wish they would not have listened to the ugly stories my mother would tell of him, stories that were so hateful, and full of lies, that it turned all their hearts into stone where he was concerned. Maybe we wouldn't have been so abused and lost, perhaps our lives wouldn't have been so dysfunctional, always filled with bitterness, turmoil, and continuous drama.

Dad kept contacts secretly with my grandmother, who would monitor our lives for him, he would send a weekly allowance, and gifts to us at Christmas, but only through our grand parents, never letting on that it was from him. Grandmother kept his secret for years, and wrote him often of our lives, and never told any of us the truth. She would do anything for us just to stay in contact and would make reports back to dad. Until one day one of my brothers went snooping for the truth. By this time we were grown and Grandmother thought, what would it matter now?  She didn't think my brother, the one with the tenacity of a bull dog, would do anything with the information, so she showed him letters from Dad, but I guess she totally underestimated my sibling and thus,the search was on.





    I waited every day of my life for 35 years for his return, and then one day I came home from work to find a message on my answering machine, I'll never forget the words; " Hello Colette, this is your Dad, I was told you have been looking for me, I know it's been a long time but I need you to know, I have never stopped loving you." When I realized what was happening, my heart began to explode with excitement and joy, that I can't even begin to explain. I listened to the message over and over, could this be true, is this the real deal here? Then I began to cry, why did I stop at the store before coming home? I can't believe I missed the call, will he ever call again?  I began to pray to God, please Lord, have him contact me again, God is so good and he did answer my prayers,  just a few short days later Dad called again, I was there to take the call, and it was what seemed, the greatest day of my life, especially when Dad and I agreed to meet. With in a couple of weeks I took a flight to Nevada where he was living, and finally came face to face with my MIA Dad.  We both were very nervous at first, and somehow I needed to break through all the years we had lost with each other, so I took a deep breath and I told my Dad there is just two things I need to say, as he held his breath for a moment, I spoke..., first Daddy, I need you to know, "I forgive you for leaving that day, and I need to know, is there room in your life for me now?" Greatly relieved, Dad burst into tears and hugged me for all it was worth and said, you betcha kiddo!
   We spent the next 3 glorious days together, sharing each others lives, we were trying to fit 35 years of  the past, and building new memories all our own, and for the first time, the hole in my heart was beginning to heal and I could feel myself smile from the inside out, and I thanked God every day for giving my Dad back to me. But all good things have to come to an end and it was time to go home.  Dad came to the airport, to see me off the day I left for home.  We held hands and spoke of new beginnings, and promises to keep in close contact from then on.  I didn't want to leave, because my heart was breaking, and I was so afraid he would disappear again, just like in my dreams, but I had a life and child back home, I just couldn't stay any longer.
Daddy assured me he will always be there for me, and if I needed anything, he was just a phone call away. As I boarded the plane, he watched me until I was out of site. I could see him from the plane window, walking slowly away and I know he felt just like I did.


      On the plane I could smell his aftershave on my hands, it was so comforting, it made me feel close and warm, and all the way home I thought of our time together and of how lost I was feeling to leave him behind, and also excited to plan my next visit with him, but that after shave, to this day I can still smell it in my mind and that smell gives me comfort to know he is still with me.


     The next 15 years were spent having the most wonderful times with Dad, I finally had someone in my life who really LOVED ME, someone who didn't abuse me, criticize me, or hurt me in any way. We spent so many wonderful times together, finally getting to know one another, I found he was kind, non judgemental, funny, supportive, and loving, he always had stories and adventures to share that were sometimes, most outrageously funny, and they kept me laughing, and they always come to mind when I want something to smile about.
  Dad was somewhat of a writer too, and loved to tell his stories on paper, but he would only keep them for himself, I know he could have been a great novelist, but he was content to just write about it for his own pleasure. He didn't need to be a star, or anyone special, he didn't need to be famous, little did he know how very special and famous he was to me.  He was a mercenary for the military, served his country as a para trouper in the Airborne, he was a dance instructor for Arthur Murry Dance studios, a choreographer for the Shoot outs at the OK corral in Bonnie Springs, he trained horses on a big ranch, he wrote news articles for the local news papers where he lived, he even rode a Harley, and was buddies with a very huge guy named Tiny. He loved his garden, his little trailer, and his little dog Cookie, his sons, grandsons, and great grand sons, and best of all he loved me. His life was full of adventures, and excitement and he shared it all with me. I am better to have known him and am grateful for the short time we had, but that time, truly wasn't long enough. I somehow feel a little cheated, but God has his own plans, and I know better than to mess with God, and I try to stay grateful for what he truly gave me.


     One by one my brothers became curious about Dad and began there own contacts with him, I was happy that at least 3 of the 4 got to know him, I don't know if they really knew how great he was, they haven't shared much of their experiences with me, nor I with them. My youngest brother was so hurt by Dad not knowing of him, that he rejected him all together, and lost out on any opportunity to do so.  Dad had no idea he had a fourth son,  Mom said she was pregnant when he left, but with  her having a new boyfriend at that time, Dad was unsure of a fourth son, he didn't want to make any claims, also the fear of rejection of the youngest was a big factor, Dad didn't want to open a can of worms and didn't want to be put in the middle of something that could possibly come back to hurt him. If only given a chance I think they both, would have come to terms with a greater understanding of the situation and some sort of healing could have come to pass.


     My Mother spoke so evil of our Father for all those years growing up, and when she found out of my contact with him, she began an all out, outraged attack on me, trying hard to regain her reign over us. She was so insanely jealous, that she had my brothers fearful to begin any kind of a fruitful relationship with him, not to mention closing the doors for us to have anything good to remember in our lives, or was it to keep us from finding out the truths she didn't want us to know about?  I have to respect my Dad, he wouldn't share any of his life with Mother, he didn't want to interfere or sway my thoughts of her, I only wish she would have given him the same consideration. I wish my brothers and I we were allowed to come to our own conclusions of what really was, instead she made us listen for hours of how bad it was back then for her, and pushing us, her way, or the highway. To this day we don't talk about him to each other, because of Mother, and it makes me grieve inside, because I want to talk openly, and let my brothers know how great Dad really was.  Forgiveness and forgetting is one of the hardest things for this family to do, and I really don't know why. Perhaps it's our Italian ancestry of holding vendetta's to the death.


    The day Dad found out he had cancer, I was there at his bedside when the Doctor told him, I can still see that hurt and devastated look in his eyes, when he looked at me.  With a single tear dripping down his face, he said what should I do? I told him Dad your a Jordan and you can beat this thing, he nodded his head wiped his tears  and said OK that's what we will do. I really think he gave up that day, My Dad was strong but the cancer was stronger and was just too far gone.  The last few weeks of his life were filled with pain and agony, I watched this man wither away to skin an bones and I knew his time was coming fast and I know he was hanging on for me, he didn't want to disappoint me by leaving again, I think he was waiting for me to say it's OK to go. The night before my father died, I told him, Daddy remember the story of me running down that hallway of the children's home, and your arms were wide open to me?, and you hugged me and took away my pain?  I said softly with tears on my cheeks, Daddy Jesus is waiting in that hallway with his arms open to you, it's OK, you go, and he will take your pain just like you did for me.
     Daddy's beautiful spirit found his way to God in the wee hours of the next morning, while he held my hand....we said our goodbyes and he quietly passed away.  I miss you so much Daddy, but I know you are still here with me, in my heart, my mind, and my dreams.
I love you Dad for always and forever

Abused- Why do you suppose?

Why do you suppose, with all the child abuse in America today, that it is the least talked about subject there is? Why is it that over 2,400 cases of child abuse, per day is reported, and it still continues to plague our children. Any time someone tries to talk about it, they are quickly hushed or intimidated not to talk about it? Why is there so much fear associated with this crime when it should be exposed more than any other cause? I see people looking for money to feed hungry children in other countries, and the out pour of funding is phenomenal, yet we still have children in this country abused, 2,400 per day! and trying to raise money for it is like pulling teeth with out anesthesia!

 Breast cancer has become one of the widest talked about and supported causes, world wide, right along with Aids, and the Gay rights movement, and Lord knows what other movement you want to invent these days....Don't get me wrong. These are all wonderful causes and worth every second spent on them, my problem is, why is Child abuse put to the bottom of the list, Why don't we have more celebrities out there pushing to stop this horrible crime! Why isn't there a benefit for these kids. Even Jerry's kids get a benefit once a year. Why not our lost and abused children many have died for this cause, how many more children have to lose their lives before America wakes up!

Why do you suppose we are still the richest country in the world?  Especially when we waste so much money, our government spends billions every year on frigging paper products!! Something is very wrong when we spend that much on paper to make a hundred copies for every department in the universe, yet year after year there is not enough money to put into social services to hire enough people to handle the case loads of children who come in battered and abused. 2400 A DAY! Were are this country's priorities! Children are losing their lives people, WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFEE!

Why do you suppose people are so wrapped up in their nose jobs, laser surgeries, liposuction, and breast enhancements , tummy tucks, anorexia, diet pills and obsessions with who knows what, that they can't spend a single waking moment thinking about why they are doing those things to their bodies?
 What makes you hate yourself so much that you mutilate yourself? Do you suppose you were abused in some way and made to think you were less than perfect?  Is that why you do what ever you can to change the outside, do you feel that bad about who you really are? Are you afraid to find out? Are you brave enough to expose the real you or are you in fear someone wouldn't like you the way you really are? Something to think about isn't it?

I am a survivor of Child abuse. I have spent an entire life time of trying to get over the fact that one day I was just an innocent child and the next day I was forced into doing the things that would make a Call Girl shutter. I have been scared for life by a man who was a SEXUAL PREDITOR. Not the caring father, he tried to portray to the rest of the world. Oh he was caring alright, what he cared about most was that his secret was kept quiet. Putting a loaded shot gun to my head several times surely did the trick. Oh and lets not forget kicking, punching, beating me with extension cords, threats against me and my family, and what ever else he felt like doing to shut me up. Do you suppose for one moment anyone cared about what was going on with me?

I was 17 the night my mother walked in, she was faced up front for the first time of what she saw, was I fighting him off?  No I wasn't, because for 13 years he had been doing this same thing to me, I had no more fight left in me, I had no more soul, because it had been stolen a long time before that day, I submitted because it was just easier than getting a brutal beating again.

Funny, when I first saw her face,  I saw, shock, horror, and reality finally sinking in, she was horrified, but the only thought still going through my head was; "finally it's over, my angel has come to save me." Little did I know my hell had just become magnified far more than I could have ever imagined. After the screaming and yelling had settled, and him hiding in the locked bath room like the coward he truly was, she called me to her and asked, what was going on!? I told her, he was raping me, and with out even blinking  she then slapped me across the face and said, git out of my house! Those words still scream in my head to this very day. Words that can never be taken back...My heart fills with pain every time I think of them, she was the one person who had the power to make this hell release me. The turn of events that took place after that, well lets just say, it wasn't over.

Words are just as abusing as the worst beating. They can take your breath away harder than any blow to the gut. They can bring you to your knees with sorrow. They can leave scares that last a life time. Words also can bring you to tears in a different way, they can fill your heart with love and joy, give you comfort and take away all fears. They can blow you over like a feather brushing across your face and fill you with contentment, giving you the will and strength to carry on. Words are powerful!

When was the last time you ever apologized to your child for your angry words? Did you mean it? Did you hug your child and give them the encouragement they need? Have you ever put your arms around your child who was hurt by someone else, and try to make their heart feel just a little better?
If you haven't don't you suppose you should?

help me in my fight to stop Child Abuse
http://rainnmakers.rainn.org/coletteabused
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Abused-I will never give up Video

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National Sexual Assault Hotline

1.800.656.HOPE
Free. Confidential. 24/7.
this  is why I will never give up!    Thank you Linda you are super for giving this video post.

Abused- I will never give up

Sorry my fellow followers, for keeping quiet for the past few days. I have been going through a few struggles with my life lately. I have had a few people telling me that I need to stop writing my blog,  for reasons I at this time will not disclose, because, I will not stoop to the levels that they have, to stop me.

   But guess what?

I WILL NOT GIVE UP WRITING THIS BLOG!

You see the cute couple to the left, well that is me and the best part of me, sitting to my left. He is my inspiration and the driving force in my life. He is my encouragement, my joy, and the light inside of me. He told me in his very best, broken English way, to stick with it that he is totally behind me. He said if writing this blog helps me, and others like me, then do not give up, stand strong!

   One thing I have learned about myself over the years is that I have allowed myself to be intimidated by others. Some people in general have it down like an art form, they know  how to intimidate, or guilt others into doing things they really didn't want to do. If what they have doesn't work then they turn others against you, to pour on more intimidation and guilt. They Push and push until they have their way. It almost worked on me with this blog.  I did take a time out, and became depressed over it. It was my only release, it made me feel a little stronger, for once I felt alive and like I was helping others, and you know what, I was! I have received many e-mails from others who have been abused. After reading my blog they felt like there could be hope for them to recover. Oh God, I hope and pray they do, because this feeling of loss inside is very real, and crippling to some.  I owe it to those readers who need me, to continue, to tell the truth, and to expose child abuse for what it is. I will not leave a stone unturned to expose abuse! I will not be intimidated by my abusers.  They say that strength comes in numbers. Support help is out there for you, people don't be afraid to expose truth. The truth is (Strength) truely does comes in numbers, and there are a lot of people out there waiting to stand with you.You can contact me at coletteabused@gmail.com and I can forward helpful information to you. All e-mails will be kept anonymous, please let me know a little about you so I can turn you on to the right sites. It's time to take back your soul! Stand Tall, you can do it I know you can.
Love and hugs,
Cj

National Sexual Assault Hotline

1.800.656.HOPE
Free. Confidential. 24/7.
or visit http://www.rainn.org/