memoirs of an adult survivor of incest

It just is ...

2011-11-11T09:18:00.000+11:00

I wondered why again today,
why my life turned out this way?
A little girl was lead astray,
when all that someone had to say was -
that filthy bastard deserves to pay!
But it just is what it is.

Why did noone seem to care,
what burden this little girl had to bare?
A secret far too ghastly to share,
a family all too well aware,
but never spoke? It isn't fair!
But it just is what it is.
For deeds so violently committed,
An evil man so quickly acquitted?
The girl grows up to be conflicted,
a world of hell will be permitted,
such damaging acts - all self afflicted!
But is just is what it is.
An evil man dies quietly,
Why does the time pass silently?
If only he had let me be,
a girl who grew up peacefully -
he watched me die so knowingly!
But it just is what it is.
For me justice was never served,
why don't they get what they deserved?
My innosence was not preserved,
I was used and not reserved -
and they are free? - how obsurd!
But it just is what it is.

Differences of the same kind

2011-04-30T11:43:00.000+10:00

It never ceases to amaze me how ignorant and judgemental people are. I find myself being judgemental against people who are ignorant and judgemental - if that makes sense??
Each and every person has their own identity, their own opinions and beliefs which are based entirely on our individual experiences in life and they way we were or were not raised.
Whether we follow the direction that we have been pointed in or choose to rebel against it - we are all 'fighting' for what we believe in - or don't believe in.
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Thoughts and memories of a stolen childhood

2011-04-22T17:22:00.000+10:00

For a very long time I felt so alone in my world.
I have never really 'fit in'.
I often faked my way through situations and pretended to be like everybody else, but inside I always knew I was 'different'.
I learned at a very young age that my friends didn't play the same 'games' as I did. They were not interested in their 'private parts' like I was. They didn't feel embarrassed when a sex scene appeared in a movie or on the television.
I remember one time in kindergarten, a boy in our class pulled his pants down and exposed himself. Everybody was shocked and giggling - I was wondering why he wasn't covered in hair?

As I grew a little older I started to realise that my friends didn't have the same home life as I did. I started to feel like I didn't belong.
When I would mention to my friends that my 'poppy' kisses me 'down there' they had no idea what I was talking about.
I remember one time when my grandfather dropped me off at the school disco - it could have been 2nd or 3rd grade - I forgot to put my underwear back on before I got out of the car.
I still wonder to this day whether anybody noticed?
I was wearing a skirt so chances are that the answer is YES!!?!!

I had many days off school - sometimes a week at a time - due to illnesses or injuries caused by my grandfather.
I became aware very quickly that my friends at school didn't suffer the same inflictions as I did.

My grandmother would tell the doctor many different 'stories' of how these injuries and STD'S occurred. Sometimes I had fallen off my bike, other times I had slipped while getting in or out of the bath.
STD'S were usually picked up from the 'public toilets' or sometimes because I hadn't washed my hands before 'exploring myself' which is supposedly something that is 'totally normal' for young children to do.
When I was ten, I had a large cluster of blisters on the back of my leg up to my bottom.

The doctor had said that this type of STD had a deep core inside the tissue of my leg, and they all needed to be DUG OUT.
My mother (who still denies to this day that at this time she had no idea I was being abused) took me to the specialist to have them removed.
I will never forget the pain of that little utensil - kind of like a tiny ice cream scooper - being forced through the blister and into my leg to scape out the core inside.

43 cores where removed - the deepest was 2cm into my flesh.

While I laid there on the sterilised table, the specialist questioned my mother about where I could possibly have picked up such a rare STD - that could only be transferred through physical contact.
'She just wont learn not to touch the toilet seats' was my mother's reply.
The specialist explained that it was not possible to contract this type of STD off a 'toilet seat', and asked whether I had been 'sexually active'??

At 10 years old??

My mother brushed it off and appeared to be horrified and offended by such an 'outrageous assumption'.

The life of a child of incest

2011-04-22T17:13:00.000+10:00

I often wonder, (as a mother of two daughters myself) what exactly it was that my grandmother thought to herself the night I told her about my abuse?
Her exact response at the time was 'I'll talk to him about it, don't worry - I'll take care of it'.

When I was a young child, (after I told her) I just assumed that she had spoken to him and maybe he had convinced her that there was nothing wrong with what he was doing - just the same way that he had convinced me.
I never questioned why the abuse continued, or how she could continue to leave me alone with him now that she KNEW what he was doing with me.
I believed and trusted that they both knew better than me what was right and what was wrong.

By the age of 10 I had started to wonder if maybe I hadn't explained what was happening to me in a way that she understood?
Maybe she had just forgotten?
Maybe she didn't really like me or want me to stay with her?
Maybe she had been waiting for me to run away?
I felt so confused about what to do. I loved my grandparents so much and I didn't want to upset them so I started to pray to GOD for help.
I prayed everyday and started writing things down. I decided to write down a prayer one day at school and the teacher found it. The Department of Community Services stepped in and removed me from my home.
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