The sexual abuse cycle

Here is an account the sexual abuse in my life. Only the ones that I know of.

1. Uncle abuses sister "k" from the age of 6 until about 13. He was a grown man at the time. He is the biginning of the cycle of my family.

2. Same uncle abuses my brother. Not sure exactly what the time line is there.

3. Sister "k" abuses brother also.

4. Sister "k" abuses brothers friend too.

5. Sister "k" plays pretend sex games with other sister (we'll call her sister "t") and two cousins.

all female. Cousin 1 & 2

6. Cousin 2 abuses brother (won't admit to it)

7.Brother abuses my daughter from about age 5 until about 11 0r 12 when he was incarcerated.

8.Niece "m" tells me that brother felt her up on 2 different occations.

9. Neice "m" tells me at a later date that she is having sex with her cousin.

This is what I can account for. I have a feeling there is more waiting to rear its ugly head.

People who hear my story ask me how all of this sexual abuse missed me. I'm sure that there are some who think Im lying. For some reason as I sat unknowingly in the midst of all of it I was spared. Did god have a purpose?

Shadows

I'm trying to get a little out at a time in this blog and somewhat stay on a time line. Please forgive me as I venture away from my story and to current events.

I somewhat established in my last post that my daughter was sexually abused. She is 19 years old and having a rough time coping with life due to this. She is only a shadow of herself rite now. She drinks to mask the pain. Unfortunately that only works for a short time before the drinking unveils the pain more that it masks is.

I was awaken at 3:00 am this morning by her. She was almost hysterical. She was drunk. She was not yelling but she was shouting at the world. Expressing all of the hate. Crying that she is just a little girl. Regressing I think maybe. Going back to being that little girl who was being hurt. It seems to me that her subconscious is tyring to finally deal with this but her mind is not ready. I try to talk to her about medication but she refuses to take "crazy pills". I've explained to her that her mind and her body have undergone a great amount of stress and that reeks havoc on the brain. The pills will just help like an antibiotic for the flu.
I'm lost...........How do I help bring her back out of the shadows.

The last survivor

I know I am not the last survivor of these things but In my family I feel like I am.
Fast forward from my growing up to now. I have 2 sisters and a brother. I am the only one who is not, has not, and never will have a dependency. My sister, I ll call her "K", and brother, I'll call him "T" were both sexually abused by the same uncle. On top of that "K" also abused "T" who in turn sexually abused my daughter and K's daughter. K's daughter, I'll call her "C", also was abused by a man that K lived with. Then I found out that C was having sex with her cousin. When I told both my sisters that this was going on between their children I got the blame for trying to ruin Xmas. Guess what? I don't care if I ruined Xmas this was something that had to be stopped. These kids needed therapy and to be let know this was wrong. Of course they didn't get it. I am the only one in the family who wants to acknowledge that any of this is f ' ed up. It seems that everyone else wants to sweep it under the rug and go on like it never happened. Have another beer, smoke another joint, pop another pill. What ever they need to NOT deal with it. Don't they realize this is why the cycle of sexual abuse continues.

The birth of me, who i am.

My mother( who would get very defensive if she heard these words) is the full cause of my being codependent. She is an alcoholic. Though she seems to have her drinking under some control these days, she still drinks and still hides it. One time I was using the restroom at her house and the toilet wouldn't flush. I took the back off and sure enough there were two cans of beer in there. Now thats creative, hide it and keep it semi cold at the same time.

As a teenager I strived to be like "the good kids". I tried to be involved in after school activities. This proved to be very difficult as the support from home was never there. I remember stealing twenty dollars from my neighbor for the deposit on my dance line uniform. (which I paid back with some interest anonymously 20 years later). I got myself to practice and got myself home. Sometimes walking and sometimes getting rides from friends. No matter how hard I tried though I always got the blame for everything bad that happened. If something got stolen it was me. If something wasn't done rite it was me. I always took the fall for everything. Why? Because my mom wasn't there to defend me as everyone else's was. It always seemed I was trying to prove myself to everyone. In doing so I was one of the best at everything I did.

As I grew a little older and got my license I tried to influence my sister to participate in after school activities too. I was there to take her and pick her up. I didn't want her to be like me. I wanted it to be easier for her. I don't know what happen I guess she didn't have the drive like I did and she quit. But I continued to look after her. Watching her and dragging her out of one bad situation or another. It was like being a big sister and a mother.

My youngest sibling, my brother, I did the same with him. I tried to put him in little league baseball. He went to all the practices but on game day he was too far behind the other kids who had been playing since pre school. He stood in the field and picked at bugs in the grass and stared into the sky. He went to one game and like my sister didn't have it to hang in there. I also took him on hos first real vacation to Disney world. (looking back now I wish I wouldn't have done that but that's a story for another day)

And then there was my middle sister who had her first baby at 16 and the third by the age of 18. When she was pregnant with the third she showed up on my door step with no shoes on and two babies on her hip crying because her and my mom had gotten into a fight (of course mom was drunk). So I took her in. Low and behold 15 years later my mom blames me for her not graduating high school. She thinks I should have sent her home. Like that would have made her graduate.

Then there ways mom herself. At the age of 15 I honestly thought it was normal and okay to drag my 16 year old boyfriend out of bed at 1 am to pick my mom up from the bar. Now that I'm older I bet his mom was just beside herself.

There was the time she stabbed herself, the time she drove into a telephone pole (which time? I think that happened twice), times she would sleep at the bar and just not come home, times she would go to the store and not come back for hours, the screaming and yelling, the fighting with my dad and us, the many times she banged her head on the walls (drunk and sober).

For many years I hated her for all the chaos she brought upon the family. Then I realized she didn't bring any of it on us. It was the disease that caused everything that happened to happen. I learned not to hate her. I learned how to deal with the disease and not her. When she drank her insecurities would come out. She would be defensive and always want to fight. I learned not to fight with her instead reassure her how much I loved her and just try to get her in bed to sleep it off. Now I feel sorry for her. Like I would for someone with cancer. And I hope and pray someday she will stop. I know her drinking is from lack of self esteem. I remember she use to drink before she could even go to the mall. I think it was because she thought everyone at the mall thought they were better than her. Strange.

Because of these events I have always tried to be there to hold all of the pieces together all of the time. This was the birth of who I am and who I was to become.

Co-dependency

Definition of caretaker: Co dependent
Definition of Co dependent: Caretaker

And I am both. For about 4 years I have been trying to overcome this co dependency thing and guess what???? I don't think you ever overcome it. I think it is who you are. I believe you learn to say no but you never learn not to feel guilty about it. Saying no still eats away at me for days after ward. It is a job not to be who I have always been. I wonder does it ever get easier?