It all seems like some strange dream now. That night so long ago holds a grip on her heart for reasons she didn't understand at the time. In the darkness, she fled with her mother and brother. Through that darkness, light would surely penetrate.
Chaos. That is what she can remember about that night. Whatever fragments left in her memory are of chaos, confusion, fear...and more fear. Her father seemed more insane than ever that night. She remembers terrible things he did and said to her mother and brother. She's repressed so much more hoping that she just wouldn't remember. She would be fine with that. She remembers that the night seemed particularly dark as she was hurried along by her mother to grab a few things and run to the car. She was scared. She didn't know what was happening. Where were they going? It wasn't safe in that old farm house, but at least she understood that home. At least she knew how to be there. To stay out of the line of fire. To be quiet and do what is expected. But, where were they going to go, and how was she supposed to act?
As they drove to a place she can't remember, she fell asleep. She can't remember who they stayed with, but a friend of a friend she was told later. She went back to school soon afterwards with the other kids whose father kissed them goodbye in front of the school and gave them hugs that she envied.
The next few years were tumultuous to say the least. The little girl's father would sit on the road outside of the house all night so that he would not be violating a restraining order. She would sleep in the living room as her mother stayed up all night hoping her father wouldn't break down the door. She constantly lived in fear. It became her home again but in a different way. She loved to be at school. She loved to be where she knew it was safe and predictable. Home was scary, but school was where she could learn to please and be accepted.
Before her mother finally left for good, her teacher reported that she had bruises on her. So, when she was called to the Principal's office, she told the truth about where the bruises came from. Many of them came from her father.
Her mother shielded her from a beating by not telling him that the naive little girl told. She thought she was supposed to always tell the truth, but she learned that she couldn't do that. When the social worker came to the house, her father left since they told her mother when they were coming. The report was unfounded since there was no evidence of abuse during the visit. The little girl learned that telling others what was going on really only makes things worse. They couldn't really help her. She had made her mother get a beating. She blamed herself for the pain her mother was feeling.
The process for her mother to finally leave and not go back, took years. Years of lying to others even though they knew. Years of covering up for her father. Years of fear, torment, rejection and agony.
When her mother finally did leave, and her father realized it was for good, he truly had a breakdown. He even wandered around naked in the street. He went to a psychiatric institution, but a few months after getting out, he had overdosed on the medication that was supposed to make him better.
Life got better for the little girl as the years passed. She no longer lived in the environment that made her feel like her very existence was revolting. But that foundation was one she would have to battle the rest of her life.
Though it has been difficult, I have battled that beginning that satan wanted to destroy me. God brings me further into his love every day. He shows me what a father really is and why I was placed here. I write this part of my story now to give thanks. I know if satan had his way I would be destroying other lives. But God put a heart in me to uplift others and love them. Though the past may try to haunt me, the present reality always wins. I am thankful today for a heavenly father that truly loves me, no matter what.
Chaos. That is what she can remember about that night. Whatever fragments left in her memory are of chaos, confusion, fear...and more fear. Her father seemed more insane than ever that night. She remembers terrible things he did and said to her mother and brother. She's repressed so much more hoping that she just wouldn't remember. She would be fine with that. She remembers that the night seemed particularly dark as she was hurried along by her mother to grab a few things and run to the car. She was scared. She didn't know what was happening. Where were they going? It wasn't safe in that old farm house, but at least she understood that home. At least she knew how to be there. To stay out of the line of fire. To be quiet and do what is expected. But, where were they going to go, and how was she supposed to act?
As they drove to a place she can't remember, she fell asleep. She can't remember who they stayed with, but a friend of a friend she was told later. She went back to school soon afterwards with the other kids whose father kissed them goodbye in front of the school and gave them hugs that she envied.
The next few years were tumultuous to say the least. The little girl's father would sit on the road outside of the house all night so that he would not be violating a restraining order. She would sleep in the living room as her mother stayed up all night hoping her father wouldn't break down the door. She constantly lived in fear. It became her home again but in a different way. She loved to be at school. She loved to be where she knew it was safe and predictable. Home was scary, but school was where she could learn to please and be accepted.
Before her mother finally left for good, her teacher reported that she had bruises on her. So, when she was called to the Principal's office, she told the truth about where the bruises came from. Many of them came from her father.
Her mother shielded her from a beating by not telling him that the naive little girl told. She thought she was supposed to always tell the truth, but she learned that she couldn't do that. When the social worker came to the house, her father left since they told her mother when they were coming. The report was unfounded since there was no evidence of abuse during the visit. The little girl learned that telling others what was going on really only makes things worse. They couldn't really help her. She had made her mother get a beating. She blamed herself for the pain her mother was feeling.
The process for her mother to finally leave and not go back, took years. Years of lying to others even though they knew. Years of covering up for her father. Years of fear, torment, rejection and agony.
When her mother finally did leave, and her father realized it was for good, he truly had a breakdown. He even wandered around naked in the street. He went to a psychiatric institution, but a few months after getting out, he had overdosed on the medication that was supposed to make him better.
Life got better for the little girl as the years passed. She no longer lived in the environment that made her feel like her very existence was revolting. But that foundation was one she would have to battle the rest of her life.
Though it has been difficult, I have battled that beginning that satan wanted to destroy me. God brings me further into his love every day. He shows me what a father really is and why I was placed here. I write this part of my story now to give thanks. I know if satan had his way I would be destroying other lives. But God put a heart in me to uplift others and love them. Though the past may try to haunt me, the present reality always wins. I am thankful today for a heavenly father that truly loves me, no matter what.
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