Abused-get over it!

Get over it.... Tell it to the little child who was just recently found in the dumpster dead!
I found some interesting facts on the Internet to pass on to you
How many children are abused and neglected in the United States?

Each week, child protective services (CPS) agencies throughout the United States receive more than 50,000 reports of suspected child abuse or neglect. In 2002, 2.6 million reports concerning the welfare of approximately 4.5 million children were made.

In approximately two-thirds (67 percent) of these cases, the information provided in the report was sufficient to prompt an assessment or investigation. As a result of these investigations, approximately 896,000 children were found to have been victims of abuse or neglect—an average of more than 2,450 children per day. PER DAY!!

2.6 of 4.5 were made known...!  I believe I was one of the half that wasn't found out about. There wasn't any help for me or my brothers.

My abuse wasn't known by anyone, so they say. My Mother stated once, she isn't responsible for my abuse, she stated Very loud and boldly, SHIT HAPPENS and repeated it 3 times, she was pretty admit about it too. She takes no responsibility for her actions and closed her eyes to the fact that I was being physically mentally and sexually abused, by the husband she chose for herself, ON A DAILY BASIS, most of the time while she was sleeping in the other room, and even after she found out about him, she chose to stay with him. She allowed him to openly beat her children daily until they bled, for 13 years!
      The abuse she dished out wasn't any better,  because of her neglect we were taken and put into a children's homes, not once, but twice before I even made the age of 4.  I had to watch my siblings as they were ripped away from me while I was taken to a separate facility. I can remember to this day the pain of that separation when I watched my brothers being taken away. Each one piled out of the Child Welfare Car  one by one and I was held back, they were taking me somewhere else. I remember the pain and the anguish in my heart so bad, that it seemed to want to burst out of my chest.  No one heard my screams of pain that day as we walked down the long hall of the place I was in, I can still remember that feeling of fear and anguish, when they put me in a room alone in a crib with very high rails, no blanket or pillow, cold lonely and frighted. I remember crying silently hugging myself til I fell asleep. Alone and Cold.
   Heaven help us all if we gave mother any stress, to add to the trauma of being beaten, she used to make us find, the extension cord that she intended to use to beat the living hell out of us with. I remember the baby sitter feeding us bread with mustard and sugar on it because there wasn't any food in the house, and sitting in front of an open oven to keep warm because the electric was turned off.     
  Recently I was told I have a love hate relationship with my family. I don't hate my family your wrong reader,  I have 4 brothers and one sister. My sister didn't suffer the chamber of horrors that my brothers and I did, mostly because I protected her with my life. I was her stand in mother for the first five years of her life, after all she was put in my bedroom, someone had to get up for those 2 am feedings and diaper changes. I adore her, and she feels the same about me, she has turned into the most beautiful caring woman, and my closest friend.
    My brothers, and I  never talk much any more, we are all too busy with our own dysfunctional marriages,  divorces, and plastic lives, but the love still runs very deep, and no one will ever get in between our love for each other, not even their spouses or children can come between that special bond we all share, because it runs to deep to compare to anything else. My poor brothers have many emotional scares that will never go away. We don't talk about the abuse when we are together, we don't want to talk about it. It's the past, and just Getting over it isn't an option for us, because the ability to forget such a traumatic life experience isn't a luxury we as humans possess.     
      My reason for this blog isn't to slam family, although it would seem so. It's to bring out the truth of  abused children, to make an awareness that, it is in your own back yard.  Our home wasn't simple discipline, like neighbors thought, it was abuse, neglect, sodomy, rape, brutal beatings, and corporal punishments!  When a child is neglected, abused, sodomised, and beaten, it does something to the mental status of the child, it causes so many emotional problems that will continue to plague them forever, hindering them from ever having any kind of a normal adult life. So those of you who like to say, GET OVER IT, you are just as abusive, your blunt words do not heal they add to the pain we suffer inside. Just because you think we should get over it! Do you think for one moment, that we are going to completely change our way of life, a way that was beaten into our minds from the time of birth?  It don't work that way. I believe you want us to just get over it, so you don't have to feel anything about yourself, including some hidden guilt you hold, from the last time you hit your kid, or said something so nasty that it cut into his or her heart like an extension cord to the skin.
     Another famous saying is, forgive and forget,  God can only forgive you if you forgive them, and you can't get to heaven if you don't.  When you are already in a, LIVING HELL, that sure makes a lot of sense! Some of you God fearing people are so heavenly conscious that you are often no earthly good.  Some of you people really need to wake up and smell the coffee.

   I am here to tell you that taking a pill doesn't' make the scares heal either, they just dull the senses so you don't feel, so that the truths of your life stay hidden and  unexposed.  I want to feel, I want to be alive, and I want to be healthy, and I want you to know how it feels to be abused. My childhood was stolen from me and this blog is helping me to get back my life. If you want me to get over it then pass this blog on to everyone you know. Help Stop CHILD ABUSE !
keep your neighborhood safe, check out the sex offender free scan of your neighbor hood.
Pictures on this blog are from sites on Child Abuse.  Just Google Child
Abuse and you will see many more just like it. I am not a random case it's every where.  Here a a few for you to view.

http://helpguide.org/mental/child_abuse_physical_emotional_sexual_neglect.htm

 http://www.neighborhoodscan.com/FamilySafetyReport/

Abused-the demons with in

Did you ever have a secret you just couldn't keep....especially growing up, when a friend told you something special and asked you not to tell? Are you one of those people who had to tell someone, or did you keep the secret? Did it depend on what it was, or who was telling you?  I can't speak for anyone else, but for myself the secret was kept for so many years, that it caused me to live in a world with out light or life. I felt no one cared, who I was, what I was, or anything about me. When in fact it wasn't them  that didn't care, it was me! So afraid of letting someone know my secret, that it caused seclusion from the rest of the outside world, keeping out any ray of light that could spark a flicker of hope for acceptance from  any stranger. I didn't have any friends close enough to speak to of such things. I would intentionally drive them away so I could live with my torrid little secret and keep it around myself, like a cloak of protection. I often ask myself was it fear of not being accepted or fear that the secret would be told?
     There was one sibling that knew what was going on, in that house of horrors, not everything, ... but he knew of the severity of my beatings, as he was forced to watch. I am sure he felt every strike of the cord along with me, and out of love, he would feel my pain as it would cut into my skin with each blow. But  he never tried to intervene because he would be beaten too, if he even dared to come between the whip and me, his fate was sure to be matched with mine. My sibling was paid off with bikes, toys and special treats just to keep my step father informed on my goings and comings, and the dark secrets that covered our house, heaven help him if he should leave out any minor detail.   My step father was saving me for only himself and wasn't having any part of me having an interest in life beyond our doors. If I was caught as much as saying hello to someone, I would be beaten and grilled for hours. I was afraid to even look in the direction of a boy with out fear of beatings
    What kind of monster was this demon spawned creature that took away my freedom of a normal life. Nothing could ever be normal about that childhood, especially when Mother would ask why the bruises? He would come up with some fabricated story to make her believe I had been disobedient. Her responses were shallow at best, uncaring and unresponsive, other than to scream orders at me to get those dishes out of the sink!, or clean up that living room or I will give you more of the same!
       As I got older the abuse became an every day occurrence, I stopped asking God to save me, I stopped screaming, I stopped crying, I stopped feeling, and I stopped living. Inside me was empty, and the well of life had been drained from what used to be a happy go-lucky, thumb sucking little red head in curls, to a lifeless shell of a young adolescent, wishing death would come quickly. Every time I was attacked, I would have these out of body experiences, separating myself , just floating, no longer feeling the pains of my reality.
       The horrors never stopped and neither did my nightmares. For years my demons haunted me, and they still haunt me from his grave. I am learning little by little to let go, and forget the horrors, but scares run deep, and each waking day is a reminder of what was. Every time I see a child, hurt or abused, I feel the pain all over again. . Heaven help these little Children. Those that haven't survived there horrors, are now at peace, but what about those who have to live and endure and abusive life. Who will stand for them?
      I didn't give my childhood away,  it was stolen for me. Today, I am lighting another candle to light my soul, and I am slowly taking back my life.

abused-affliction

Child Abuse is an Affliction, that a little child can't fight alone. They need our help. Have you ever noticed a child who is with drawn, overly shy and fearful of any quick movements, they cling to siblings and cry continuously? Children that are hungry, un-bathed too many black and blue marks, parents never around, take a second look when you see the these signs. Please don't pass it off and think someone else will handle it. Make the Call to any child welfare office in your county or call
1-800-4-A-Child (1-800-422-4453)  or go to http://www.childhelp.org/ it is totally anonymous, so stop peeping from the curtains, if know a child is being abused MAKE THE CALL! Don't let any child suffer or die! It's real and happens right under your nose. It could be happening to one of your own. Are your eyes open? My own family stated they never knew...hummm I wonder. MAKE THE CALL

Abused-Human kindness too..

Once I lived on this Island that was completely self contained, we had our own schools, stores, several neighborhoods, a pleasant place to grow up. It was kind of nice have our school right across the street from where we lived, because we never had to ride the bus. The problem was living across from the school gave me a time limit, of how long it took me to go or get home. My Step father would sit with binoculars watching out the window to see that I wasn't talking to the boys, ... or girls, for that fact! He would become totally enraged at the very site of me speaking to anyone before, or after school, and if I was one minute late, Heaven help me, because  the moment I walked in the door, I was punched in the face and kicked to the floor. WHO WERE YOU TALKING TOO!!!? Was screamed in my face, not really having my bearings I would respond no-one! With a few more blows about the head and face, and a few more kicks to the gut, I would answer, just class mates no one special, just to make the beating stop. He would shout, I SAW YOU, who was the boy, or girl depending on the day? He too, lived in fear that one day I would make a friend, and tell his torrid secret.
   The school was one level, and had big glass windows, you could see into the class rooms if you used the binoculars, and if you knew where the classes were, you could get vision of everything going on in the room, pretty weird, isn't it? So you can imagine how I felt day to day wondering, was he watching me, living in constant fear that if I talked to anyone, I would be found out, and severely beaten when my returned home. I used  to go to the auditorium or behind the girls lockers, just to talk with class mates, so I wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of not following his orders. One day one of the seniors boys asked me to the prom, we knew each other from drama class, he was shy, but very nice, and noble too. He asked me at school about the prom, and I told him I would never be allowed to go, and thanked for asking. So the boy being noble, with his red hair and freckles, decided to come to my door and ask my parents for himself.  When I answered the door and saw who it was, every ounce of color drained from my face, my stepfather pushed me aside and asked the young man what he wanted, the poor guy didn't get two words from his mouth, before the answer was, NO!, she isn't allowed to date, and he slammed the door on him. I began to tremble as I knew what was coming next, grabbing the extension cord he began to beat me repeatedly, screaming at me that I have betrayed his trust. This went on for what seemed hours. Just another day in hell for me, I never knew the true joys of friendships or any kind of relationships with my peers, it was not permitted and I was kept like a prisoner with no way out.
  Word got out around school of the incident at my door that day, no doubt the boy was pretty upset at the ordeal himself. I wore turtle neck long, sleeve sweaters the rest of that week to hide the cuts on my skin.  One day, my science teacher, told me she wanted to see me after class. I didn't think much of it at the time, so when class was over I stayed to talk with her,  she had soft short black hair a soft voice, and her leg in a cast from a skiing accident, if memory serves me correctly, she walked slowly towards me and  tried to give me a hug, and I jumped to my feet and scrambled back a bit.  She at first was startled at my reaction, and then her eyes began to well with tears, as she saw the horror on my face at being touched, she quickly said; no, I won't hurt you I promise, I just want to talk with you. She said she had heard the rumors about the school and was very concerned about me.  I quickly told her no... I was just fine not to worry, she began asking me questions about the sores on my neck, she said she saw them when I was reading my book, I explained it was just a scratches, that it was no big deal, I just couldn't reveal the secret, if I did, he would surely find out and kill me.
  This teacher was the first person in my life that ever cared enough to even ask, she saw the signs of an abused child and showed me a bit of human kindness that I had never known before. Even though I couldn't tell her anything, out of fear of my abuser,  that kindness to this day, has always touched and warmed my heart, and still manages to bring tears to my eyes when I think of her. I will never forget her, she was a person who had a special way with kids, and she shared a bit of human kindness with me.
  Teachers you can, and you do make a difference, the life of an abused child is devastatingly cruel, and you can't begin to imagine how it feels unless you were there. Just a touch or any eye of understanding is all you need to give one moment of peace in that child's troubled soul. The peace in my soul was taken from me, I didn't give it away, it was stolen. Now I am taking back my peace. Thank you teacher where ever you are.

Abused-Human kindness

I was asked by a very dear friend of mine to pass this little story of humanity along through my e-mail but I felt given the nature of the story my blog readers would enjoy something nice. It isn't all bad out there if you give someone a little piece of kindness. It can go a very long way ....

What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?  At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its  dedicated staff, he offered a question:
 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
   The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature
 presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
    Then he told the following story:
 Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around
for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our
 team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a
 broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again..
 Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
  At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?  Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
 However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.  The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow
 ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
 Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.  He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third!
 Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'. Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that
 winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
             AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:
 We all send thousands of jokes through the Internet without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate.The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through
 cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
 If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people
 in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.' So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people
 present us with a choice:
 Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process? A wise man once said every society is judged by how I treats it's least fortunate amongst them. You now have two choices:

 1. Ignore
 2. Forward
 May your day, be a Shay Day!!!
God Bless the Children

Abused- do you close your eyes?

When it comes to things that make us a bit sick, we have a tendency to close our eyes and ears. Are you one of those who just can't stand to listen to bad news, or look at graphic pictures? You just can't stand to listen to the real truth about whats going on in the world today? Well your not alone. Most people don't like to hear bad things and usually don't want to get involved, unless it's something really juicy like, Tiger Woods cheating on his wife, which is still making head lines as they uncover sorted details, or better yet , the news of Michael Jackson's death, it was on the news for months and is still on the airways, people thrive over it! One day the guys a child molester, paying off the families for their silence, next thing you know he is the worlds king of pop music, dead from drug over dose and adored the world over! I guess any thing goes with the right publicity when your famous. I am not making judgement on Michael Jackson, or Tiger Woods, just stating facts, I wasn't there, so it's not my place to say.  But when news casters give a molested child a blurb, and a small by line perhaps for one day maybe 2 days, and only if the child died, then something is very wrong. Is everyone so appalled that they just don't want to hear, or is it just not  juicy enough. Children are killed every day, by abusers, right under our noses. Children are found dead in dumpsters, and storage units, in a plastic bags! Who will speak for them, will you? They have been tossed out with the trash for God Sake!People open your eyes!
   I have just recently been told someone I once knew is into child pornography now. I must say I am not surprised, perverts never change, they just get better at concealing it. What I am shocked at is, that there are thousands of sights on the Internet that support this persons filthy habit. It's out there and only a select few are doing anything about it! We need to spread the word, this has to stop! Become an advocate and join my cause to stop Child abuse. If everyone that stumbles across one of these sites that exploit these innocent children, was reported, it would make it a lot easier to nail the creeps, and keep them from putting it out there. Who's child will be next, it could be yours.
  Did you know that you can call child abuse hot line and stay anonymous, no one has to know you told. here's the number to call 1-800-4-A-Child (1-800-422-4453) The call is free and totally anonymous
 or go to http://www.childhelp.org/

 In my blog I have been sharing bits and pieces of my life to clue you in on how these children feel and what happens to them as they become an adult, that's if they make it to adulthood. Follow my blog and help me to help kids who suffer just like I did. If you know of a child that is being abused and you don't help, then you are part of the problem and not the cure. Get involved make the CALL!! Stop hiding behind the curtin and make the CALL! Save a life.

Abused-hiding out

If your a victim of abuse you know already where I am going with this title. After all isn't that what you have been doing for a long time? Hiding out.... from yourself, your family, your friends, and any one who makes a difference in your life. Your so afraid for anyone to find out about your past that it is crippling you. Who are you protecting with this secret? What are you afraid of most? If someone just happen to find out about you, what do you think will happen?
   The biggest thing we lose total sight of is the fact that keeping it secret is allowing the abuser to continue on his or her path of violence and invasion on your life, or perhaps the life of the next victim. Even from the grave my abuser continues to abuse my mind, my dreams and my life. I had been abused for so long, and kept it secret so much so, that it left everyone wondering why I never told anyone, and only leaving their sick minds to think perhaps I was a willing party. In the first couple of years, I really was to young to realize what was happening to me, I was unaware of the fact that I was being sexually abused. I didn't know about sex, all I know is that I didn't like what was happening and with each attack it because more over powering and abusive. As he would force himself on me I would begin to cry but a few good slams, throwing me about the room, slamming me against walls and then his hand over my mouth, would usually do the trick. I knew screaming would be death for sure. When a child is told he or she will be beaten, they usually submit because they don't want to hurt anymore. Especially if they had been beaten in the past. One thing you know for sure, and there is no doubt about it, that when they say, shut up!, you better do it, some children didn't learn to be quiet, they didn't know any better, most of them aren't here to tell their story. They didn't get the luxury of getting to put their abusers away for life.
  Every time any of us were beaten we were told to shut up and if we didn't, the blows would come twice as hard. Have you ever been beaten with an extension cord, when it's wrapped just right it leaves deep cuts in your skin that bleed and ooze for days, and it leaves scares on you skin for the rest of your life, much like the scares of a whip that are seen on the backs of slaves. You hide them with long pants, long sleeves and make up. These abusers are criminals they don't deserve to be kept secret. For the longest time I though, no I won't tell because it was so long ago what would it accomplish. It will only destroy the lives of innocent people. But I have come to realize my silence has opened the door for all abusers to do the same thing to another child. Don't close your eyes and pretend it won't happen to you, I was happening to me right under my mothers nose. I won't hide any more, I am on a quest to stop child abuse, to give these scums of the earth just some, of what they gave their victims. Join the fight, get involved. Know who and where your children are at all times. My childhood was taken from me, I didn't give it away, it was stolen. I can't get back my youth, but I can take back my life! Join my blog tell your story, expose these people for who and what they are, save an innocent life by making people aware, join the cause to help fight child abuse. God Bless you and God bless the children.