Anonymous Story: 18 Years of Silence

Anonymous Story: 18 Years of Silence

Call me Bebop (protecting my name for my safety). I’m not exactly the best with words and placements. I have ADD and a terrible short term memory issue, so bear with me.

I was 13 years old. It was a late summer night, in my summer break of 2000. I was laying in bed, in my red and white Mickey/Minnie button up pajamas, trying to sleep. My step father comes home from a friend’s, and I went in instant fake sleep mode (kept my eyes open a smidge to peek). I felt fingers go in between my buttons, and felt his chilly hands touch my chest. I quickly turned on my right side to get him away from me, and he walked away. This is where it gets worse.

I go to tell my mother what happened a few days later, since I was trying to process what happened. It messed me up. I trusted her to take the right actions as a parent to take care of me in that situation. Wrong. I was instantly shamed, I was told that I should’ve been aborted, he’d never do that, I was told that if I told anyone, and if it ruined her marriage, she’d kill me. All of this was said, in front of my step father. Nice. And she didn’t stop there. She told everyone on his family’s side, so we went to go to a family outing, and I was basically the human equivalence of cancer at this point. No one talked to me, I was ignored, people barely talked to me. So, my parents moved me to my biological father’s in another state. And because of how that was handled by my mother, I assumed my father knew, and was mad at me. I should’ve told him. I wish I told him. He passed 3 years later when I was 16.

For years, I’ve been telling the truth about what happened. Because there’s no “proof” of said situation, I’m not taken seriously. I’m even trying to keep my two daughters away from my parents, but my girls live with their paternal grandparents (until I’m on my feet), and they refuse to listen to me, even when I was pregnant with my 1st daughter. And you’d think that because their grandfather was a sergeant for a state prison, that he would’ve taken me seriously. So, again, I close up, in fear that if I tell someone else, that I’d be shamed, or made to feel like crap.

June 14th, 2012. I was on my way to visit my daughters, riding my bike to the bus station. I was going to discuss my concerns with my kids paternal grandparents, of letting my daughters be around my monster of a mother and her husband. On the way, I was struck by a car while riding my bike. I suffered from 3 broken teeth, a 2in. laceration on my right side of my head, and a type 5 AC separation. My children were never brought to visit me, but were brought to my mother’s. At the time, I was a 1/2 drive from my daughters (I moved for a job opportunity), and to which, I was told that gas was an issue, so of course I offered to pay for gas to see my kids. My mother lived 2 hours away from us, and they’d make the effort with her. This has been going on since I was hit by a car, 6 years later.

July 20th, 2017. This was the day where I had a wake up call. Chester Bennington of Linkin Park, my role model growing up in my teen years, commit suicide. Chester was molested by a family friend in his adolescence, which I can relate to, since that happened to me, and that’s part of what haunted him growing up, and was part of the reason of his demise. Since my accident, I caved into forgetting that I was molested, just so I can still be around my kids with no issues. At this point, I thought it was time to stop living a lie about my step father, and what he did to me, and get my rights back as a mother. I filed a petition to adjust my visitation rights, but after how my daughters have been getting slowly alienated from me, courtesy of their grandparents and mine, I want them back with me permanently.

So after a few court dates from hell, my lawyer finally spoke of my abuse growing up. Because I have nothing on paper, or proof of what I grew up with, or reports (I was absolutely terrified to say anything, after I’ve gotten death threats over the years about this), the judge blew it off, and didn’t take me seriously. This is still an ongoing issue I’m trying to resolve, but I won’t give up. I never want my children to feel what comes with that, I never want my children to feel so bad, that they think ending their lives is a solution. My mother handed me a pair of scissors at the age of 16, said to do herself a favor, and to kill myself. I have a small scar from that, but thanks to a Linkin Park poster on my side, to remind me that I’m not alone, I won that night.

I’m scared. I’ve lost weight from stress, I see a therapist on a regular basis, it’s been mentally taxing for me these last 6 years. With my therapist, I can see outside of my perspective, and didn’t realize I was a reflection of what I grew up in. It’s like waking up from a 30 year coma, I’m starting all over again just about. And this is the year that I end my 18 years of silence.

I hope that I got this out alright. It’s not perfect, but that’s ok :) there’s a lot more, but I don’t have time, or energy to dig anything else up.



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