My eyes start to close as my breathing slows
darkness taking over sleep is calling to me
peace and tranquility are mine at last
The silence breaks as the demons return
taking over my sleep my mind my life
I am back in time to a terrible place
watching from above totally powerless
try as i might i can't reach the little girl
her eyes wide pleading begging for it to end
her abusers carry on ignoring her pleas
their satisfaction their only concern
I shout and i scream at them to stop
to leave her alone put an end to her pain
I can't make them hear me I can't make them stop
whatever i do she is always just out of reach
this poor little girl so damaged so small
finished and satisfied they get up and leave
her hours of torture over - at least for now
she lays there shaking silently sobbing into a pillow
blood trickling like a slow running tap
her face twisted from excrutiating pain
I want to hold her comfort her take her away
to a place they won't find her keep her safe
I still can't reach her as she turns to me
in almost a whisper between tiny sobs
why she asks why didn't you stop them
why did you let them rape and beat me over and over
you could have helped me you should have saved me
tears stream down my face and all i can say is SORRY
sorry i didn't save you so sorry you are me
sobbing i return to the here and now sleep is lost
peace won't return this evening if it returns at all

I am struggling with everything at the minute,i know that i am withdrawing into myself again but i can't seem to stop it happening.While the J's were away on vacation,i realised just how much i do lean on them.They are the ones i turn to every time,it's them i have dumped so much of my shite on,and i think this realisation has kind of scared me a little.I have always managed(admittedly not always very well)with things on my own,and i feel maybe i have let myself get too dependent on the J's.So i came to the conclusion i should step back a little,i don't know if it's a little self preservation,or the deep seated fear of rejection eventually.Don't get me wrong i know they love me,but i am Only too aware of how quickly things can change.I love the J's and their family from the bottom of my heart,but past experience tells me everything i love leaves eventually, destroying another piece of me,or gets taken away in the end.Part of me feels this is also my way of protecting the J's the best i can too,i seem to drag people down and somehow jinx their happiness and i can't bare to think of this happening to such wonderful amazing people as them.
Events of the last few weeks have really taken their toll on me,i hardly sleep,and can barely eat,surviving mainly on hot drinks and the odd slice of toast or a sandwich.This isn't helping my many medical conditions i know,but every time i try to eat i feel so sick it just doesn't feel worth the trouble.I have been like this before,and know it will improve eventually,so until then i will struggle on day to day.I can't put into words what is wrong,i can't explain what is going on in my head.The sensible part of me knows that i shouldn't keep things locked inside,but the other part of me won't allow me to disclose the torment going on in my head.It is a constant struggle at the minute to try and get things straight in my own mind,and to get my head around recent problems.
Since my operation every one keeps saying how well i have adapted,and how well i am coping,but the truth is a little different.The anger and frustration i feel deep inside is bubbling away,I know i am lucky to be here,and realise things could have been worse.I still get severe pain at the operation site,and no amount of pain killers seem to make a difference.On the plus side it isn't constant like before the op,so no matter how bad it gets i know in my heart it will fade away after a few hours.Sometimes i just want to scream at people,it is so hard to just do every day things,washing ,dressing,even doing the simplest of household chores can have me at breaking point some days.Self pity isn't going to help me overcome my disability,so i won't allow myself to cry over it,i just have to get on with it and learn to live with it.There are millions of people out there who are in a much worse state than me,so for that i should be grateful.

I have been sewn up quiet a few times by Uncle Jerry and his Dr friend.The time the dog mauled my head was one of the first times i remember,the next time was when Jerry the Dr and the Dr's pal decided to play a game called two up one down.I am sure you can work it out but just in case of any doubt two of them forced themselves inside me together,while the third one went in the back.The pain was incredible but i had socks stuffed in my mouth to make sure i couldn't scream.Feeling my insides tearing,and the blood running out of me,was nearly as horrific as the torture itself.The Dr said they had to stop as i was loosing too much blood,he got off me but the other two carried on.He told them if they didn't stop there was a chance i would bleed to death,they stopped immediately and Jerry asked him what they should do.He said they had to trust him,and he went down to his car returning with his Dr's bag in hand.
The Dr took out some things and laid them on a towel,telling Jerry to pay attention he threaded what he called special thread through a curved needle.Talking Uncle Jerry through every step he began to stitch me up inside,the other guy tied my arms to the bed before helping Jerry to hold my legs still.My body was shaking(going into shock according to the Dr)and i was drifting in and out of consciousness,yet very much aware of the pain.I saw what looked like a plastic bag filled with blood and a little plastic straw(the sort you get with drinks cartons)in his hands now.He told me this was going to hurt,but i would feel much better afterwards,all i remember thinking is it all bloody hurts and i never feel any better.They released my left arm and he told them to keep it absolutely still,tremendous pain as he forced the straw into my arm,he put a thin tube from the bag into the straw as he gave me my first blood transfusion.The three of them sat smoking and chatting while they waited for the blood to finish running into my vein,after the initial pain of the straw going in the rest was more like a dull ache.Once the transfusion had finished he quickly pulled the straw from my arm,then pressed down as hard as he could to make the blood clot,so i wouldn't bleed from the site.My arm was bandaged and fastened by my side,my legs tied down so i couldn't move and wouldn't disturb the stitches.
Uncle Jerry gave me a pain killer and told me to rest,i was physically and emotionally exhausted,every last bit of energy drained from my poor little body,i drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the day.Woken by Jerry as he untied me and ordered me to stay in bed,he was to tell my Dad i was having a really bad period and the Dr had advised i stay in bed and don't move for at least 24 hours.My Dad had no reason not to believe Jerry,and i was far too afraid to tell him the truth,so i stayed in my wet blood covered bed until the next day.Dad and Jerry brought me tablets for the pain,i think Jerry only did this so it seemed like he had actually called a Dr out to me.The next day i was still in pain and it was uncomfortable to move,but i had no choice,going to the toilet brought a new wave of pain every time,but as usual i got used to the pain and life just carried on as normal.

The nightmares and flashbacks are driving me insane,every time i close my eyes they are there.Uncle Jerry laughing as he rapes me over and over,his pals arguing over who's turn it is next.Fighting the fear and the panic is totally exhausting,both mentally and physically.Even doing the normal day to day things can be extremely traumatic when things are like this.So many every day implements have been used on me by Jerry and his gang to get their sexual kicks,that mashing potatoes,rolling pastry or using a bread knife for instance can bring terrible flashbacks.
As an adult feeling the pain from such extreme cruelty,is both sickening and harrowing,yet to feel such immense pain as a child is far beyond words.The normal pain of childhood like falling over,breaking an arm,falling out with your best friend,are all very hard on a child,yet i would have given anything for these to be the worst suffering i had to endure.I was once beaten up pretty badly by a group of girls in secondary school,but i didn't cry,nor could i say this pain was anywhere near as bad as what i put up with nearly every day.
One time Jerry and one of his pals had taken it in turns to have sex with me,and while his friend was still at it Jerry went downstairs and returned with a walking pole.I had no idea what it was at the time,or what it was used for but i knew it was a pretty scary looking thing.Whilst the two of them were stood whispering i went to get up.Jerry jabbed me in the back with the pointed end of the pole,telling me to stay where i was.Stupidly i said it was sharp,to which Uncle Jerry told me it was sharp enough to go right through someones skull,so i better not think about been awkward today.By been awkward he meant trying to get away from them,or fighting back in any way.I was absolutely terrified;i knew how sick and twisted this pair were,and i wouldn't put anything past them.The pain was awful as they pushed the pole inside my back passage as far as they could,then forced it just that little bit further.A scream escaped me as i felt the flesh inside and out rip,blood spurted at such an alarming rate that the friend began to panic.Jerry told him to calm down he could sort it out,his Doctor friend had shown him what to do in cases like this.Jerry pulled the box from the cupboard,and removed one of the needle and threads that the wonderful Doctor had left him.Telling the pal to keep me quiet he got the gauze and folded it as many times as he could,before soaking it in witch hazel.The pal held the point of the pole against my throat and said"so long as you don't move or make a sound you will be just fine".I don't know which was the most frightening,the pole on my throat,or knowing what Jerry was about to do.Taking a deep breath i bit down as hard as i could on the pillow as Uncle Jerry pushed the gauze inside me,the witch hazel stinging like hell,but the pain of him stitching my torn bottom soon out shone that by far.Tears ran silently down my face,as i prayed to god to let me die.

Poem for the J's

Thoughts are racing round and round
like GreyHounds on a track
I try to stop,push them away
it's no good they come straight back
So i guess i will have to face them
face the hurt,and deep despair
but somethings different,i don't know what
until i turn and see you there,
with arms that are wide open
to give a hug that says it all
I know that i am truly safe
I don't hide behind no wall
I don't know how to thank you
for all that you have done
But I hope deep down with all my heart
It'll be by saying the fight is won

Poem Panic

My heart is beating so hard and fast,it feels like it is going to jump out of my chest.Thunder thumping in my head joined by a bass drum,surely it is going to explode.Palms sweating hands and legs shaking,vomit rising in my throat trying it's best to escape.Keep swallowing don't be sick,don't let the panick win.
Flashbacks coming thick and fast,doing their best to destroy me.Taking in huge gulps of air as if i had been underwater,i try to calm myself down.The battle with the tears is back again,they keep trying to escape.I need to keep them inside,desperate to keep some kind of control over at least one thing.
Sinking to the floor,i know i am loosing this fight.THINK try to think what can i do,what might help.THINK think of somewhere safe,now to go there in my head.Picture the scene in my safe place,loving arms wrapped tightly around me.LISTEN listen to what they say"It's ok you are safe here,we could never hurt you,we love you.
LISTEN listen and believe,now stand up the panick is over,stand up and just breathe.

Family has never meant a great deal to me,apart from my children.I often viewed other people in their happy loving families,and felt sad and alone and always on the outside.Never really understanding why family could mean so much to some people,yet practically nothing to people like me.Don't get me wrong,i have brought my children up to believe that immediate family is important and you should always try to be there for them,but only if they would do the same for you.
In the past i have always gone running whenever my Mother or Sister have needed something,i guess you could say they would say "jump"and i would ask "how high". I never really thought about it,yet now i realise i believed that was just the way it always had been so there for was normal to me.Niether my Mother or Sister have ever really been there for me unless there was some one there to put on a show for,so i think i must have been desperate for some sort of recognition or acceptance as part of the family.
Things have certainly changed over the last 6months or so,i have finally faced up to the fact that i will never be good enough for them,or never be accepted as anything other than a slave or a puch bag(either verbally or physically)and I deserve better than that.On the other hand i have learnt what been part of a loving caring family feels like.The J's and their family treat me with respect,they show me so much warmth and love,and i know they care about me as much as i do them.They have welcomed me into their family with open arms,and i cant explain how wonderful it is to feel like you actually finally belong.
All has been quiet on the Uncle Jerry front,i don't know if it is because he is desperately ill,or if he is just lulling me into a false sense of security so untill i learn that he has passed away,i won't be letting my guard down.It can be really hard work always looking over your shoulder,not been able to leave your doors unlocked just incase he decides it's time for another beating.Trying not to show fear if a stranger aproaches you,just incase it is one of his hench men waiting to stick the boot in,been on your guard all the time is both physically and mentally exhausting,but i have to believe that the end is near and one day i will be able to live as normal life as the next person.

poem A Smile

A smile is a mask i wear every day
I put it in place to say i'm ok
A quick witted comment a laugh here and there
mainly for people who don't really care
What lies underneath stays hidden away
To very few people the truth i will say
But once in a while some one will come by
And see past the smile to the pain in my eyes
I say that i'm fine,they smile and they say
I know that you are but are you really ok

poem why ?

I often sit and wonder why
you hurt me and you made me cry
I was just a child,a little kid
That didn't stop you doing what you did
I had nowhere to run to,nowhere to hide
because of the torment going on inside
I had no-one to turn to,not evem my mother
she wasn't the same,not like any other
she stuck by you through thick and thin
and let you commit the most dreadful sin
physical,mental and sexual abuse
you were like wild animals out on the loose
I think of the monsters i had growing inside
then the abortions,the facts i would hide
this shit that i carry,the hell i go through
And it's all because of BASTARDS like you !

This wasn't the only time my dear Uncle had left me unconscious,many times as a child i would come round after yet another beating to find him sat staring at me,or that he had left yet had the decency to cover me up.About two nearly three years ago Uncle Jerry turned up with one of the old gang,they were waiting outside the back door and grabbed hold of me as soon as i stepped outside.Jerry punched me in the face,and his pal pushed me back in through the door.I was slightly dazed as you can imagine,i was only going into my own yard for gods sake.
I didn't understand why he had brought this animal back into my life,He was older and slimmer than when i was a child,but i recognised his smug look immediately and he still had the same smell.At the time i didn't know the pals name,but i soon learnt his actual name was James,and he was to become another tormentor.
They pushed me around a little,and every time one of them hit me i lashed out right back at them.Deep down i knew i stood no chance against two men,but i also knew i had to try.James headbutted me so hard i fell to the floor,the force of the impact brought tears to my eyes.The minute i hit the floor Jerry pounced,pinning me to the floor holding my arms down.James was tugging at my trousers,i kicked as hard as i could,but he knelt on my legs.Jerry was the first to have sex with me,while James made sure i couldn't scream.When Jerry was done,James then took his turn whilst Jerry kept me quiet.Once they had finished i stupidly thought they would just leave,but how wrong could i be.Jerry grabbed the hammer and forced it inside me,they were both laughing.I shouted and screamed at them to stop,begged them to leave me alone but as usual they totally ignored my pleas.They used a few more household items,then both had sex with me at the same time.Pain and shame tore through me.When they were both satisfied they stood at the back door to have a smoke.Grabbing my trousers i pulled them on as quick as i could,fear and rage mixed together i threw myself at Jerry knocking him clean over.Siezing my chance i kicked him in the head,James grabbed me and threw me against the wall,my head bounced off like a tennis ball.
Jerry was standing infront of me pure hatred in his eyes,i spat in his face in defiance i guess.He grabbed me by the throat and punched me several times in the face,i slid down the wall and James kicked me in the stomach so hard i doubled over in pain.He pulled me up by the hair and Uncle Jerry kneed me between the legs before pushing me face first into the wall.Instinct and a need to survive kicked in,and i fought back to the best of my ability.I manage to get a couple of punches in,but they were just too strong i couldn't beat them.Punches and kicks reigned down on me as i lay on the floor,i tried to crawl away but they dragged me back,my face felt like it was been ripped apart as they dragged me across the broken concrete.The last thing i saw was James boot infront of my face.
I could hear a voice in the distance"mum,mum are you in?" Oh no my daughter was here,i have to get up,i have to be ok was all i could think of.Crawling to the wall i began to pull myself up,but not quiet quick enough,"oh my god what the hell has happened" my daughter asked helping me up.Telling her i must have tripped over the broken concrete and knocked myself out,i insisted it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked.To say she was concerned is an understatement,she wanted to call an ambulance or a dr,but i wasn't having any of it,but i did agree i would go get checked out by my own gp if i didnt feel right the next day.Obviousely i felt far from ok,but i told every one it was only a fall and i was fine.My face was a complete mess,the skin was scraped off all down one side,my nose was swollen to nearly twice the size,my eyes were bruised and bloodshot.My wrist was swollen and grazed,and my stomach and between my legs were black.It took nearly three weeks for those injuries to heal,but a lot longer for the mental scars to heal.

Feelings are running around in my head,and i don't really know what to do with them,or how to handle them.I am feeling almost a little proud of myself at the moment,for the way I am handling things with my Uncle.Yet at the same time i am afraid,because i know i am only making things worse in the long run.
You see i am not answering the door when he or him and his pal comes,instead i am hiding upstairs,like a frightened child waiting for something terrible to happen.In the past i have always given in and opened the door eventually,just wanting to get whatever is going to happen out of the way.Now however i find i need to protect myself,where as before i was only interested in protecting my children.Why the big change? well maybe it's because i know my body can't take much more,or maybe it's because the J's lead me to believe i don't actually deserve this torture,and don't have to put up with it.Whatever the reason,it is driving Jerry mad and he is making no secret of the fact that he wants me dead.
A few years back,Uncle Jerry thought he had actually achieved killing me,and he left me for dead at the bottom of the stairs in my own house,for my poor children to find me.Lucky for me,i was only knocked out and had come round before my kids had woken up.Jerry had forced his way into my house as usual,and was knocking me about telling me how much i enjoyed the beatings,and how excited it made him.My phone(which i had left upstairs)started ringing;normally i wouldn't attempt to answer it when he was there,but for some unknown reason i tried to run up to get it.I don't know what i was thinking,nor what i was going to say if i had got to answer it,but it didn't matter because Jerry grabbed my legs and pulled me so far down the stairs.My face scraped on the carpet as it bounced off the steps"what fucking game do you think you are playing tonight?"Jerry snarled,i found myself automatically apologising for my actions.This infuriated him even more.Banging my head repeatedly on the stairs,he held one arm behind my back while putting his knee in the middle of my back with more than a little force.Whilst he was raping me he kept saying "try to get away,i dare you".My children were asleep just yards away,so i knew i had to stay absolutely silent,and just let him get on with it.He dragged me almost to the bottom of the stairs,before turning me over and laughing at the carpet burns on my face.Jerry then tried to part my legs again"please don't"i begged,"i have had enough,aren't you satisfied you can see how much you have hurt me"i whispered."I will fucking say when it's enough"he replied.I put my hand against my weeping face almost hoping he would just go,but i knew only too well from past experience he was too riled up to stop just yet.Grabbing my wrist he forced it back so hard and fast,you couldn't help but hear the crack,I let out a little cry and he started laughing."Please don't wake my kids" was all i could say.Jerry raped me again still holding my poor wrist tightly,so that every thrust caused it to throb more and more.Finally he stood up,pulling me up after him by the wrist he told me to say thank you."Not on your fucking life" i replied.Grabbing my hair he smashed my head against the radiator,once,twice,then blackness.
Struggling to open my eyes,it took me a few minutes to register where i was.Pulling myself to my feet i hobbled into the living room,squinting at the clock i realised i must have been unconscious for a good half an hour or so.The most frightening thing i could think of was what if one of my kids had found me,what if they thought i was dead,what would it have done to them.Tears ran down my face thinking of my poor children,upstairs totally oblivious to the terrible events that had just happened in their home.Making myself a cup of tea i caught sight of my reflection in the mirror,i recoiled in horror at what i saw.Don't get me wrong,i am no oil painting,but this was hideous.My eyes were swollen and already going a nice shade of purple,my forehead had a huge lump almost from one side to the other.My lip was swollen and split,my cheek was bruising,and my face all grazed from the carpet.What a sight i looked,not unlike something from star wars.My wrist was severely swollen and painful by now,so i wrapped it in ice then placed a cold compress on to relieve both the swelling and the pain.Next but most importantly i had to think what i could tell the kids and anyone else who might ask.Three cups of tea,and ten cigs later,i had my story straight in my head.I had fallen down stairs,and hit my head against the radiator,and landed on one of the toys at the bottom.Not every believed this story,my GP and the practice nurse both desperately wanted me to go to a+e,but i flatly refused.My kids accepted my version of events,and that was all that mattered to me.Uncle Jerry rang my phone,withholding his number of course.Hearing my voice he sounded relieved,"i thought i had finished you off"he mumbled" "sorry to disappoint you"i shot back.Apparently he wasn't disappointed,because he wasn't finished with me yet,and couldn't imagine his life without me in it.
Obviously now things must have changed,and Jerry and I can't agree because i think they have changed for the better,whilst my dear Uncle strongly believes things are going down hill.I try really hard to not even answer the phone to him now,and 99% of the time when i hear it's him i just cut him off without saying a word.Most of you probably think this is such an easy thing to do,but please believe me when i say i never thought i would be strong enough,or brave enough to do these things.I always believed i had no choice,and it was how my life was meant to be,but this is what Jerry and the rest of my abusive family wanted me to believe.It is only with the love and support of true friends,that i have just started to believe i have a chance to change things,and i intend to change them for the better for me.That 1% where i do let him talk,is a minor set back,and i can punish myself for it,or i can say"it was a blip,now get back up there and keep fighting",i choose the second one,and am assured by the J's that i am winning!!!

My head is completely in bits at the minute,it feels like it is about to explode any second.The last few weeks have been a living hell,constant harassment and threats from Uncle Jerry leave me struggling to eat and sleep or just to function like a normal person.I am all too aware of the lengths Jerry will go to,to get what he wants,and when he doesn't get his own way he thinks nothing of turning up with one of his cronies and forcing his way into my home.This is what happend a couple of weeks back.I opened the back door to let the cat in,only to find Jerry and one of his pals pushing their way in.Panicking i tried to push the door closed before they got into the house,but i wasn't quick enough mainly due to the disability my operation has left me with;which was originally caused by Mother and Jerry over the years.Jerry shoved me,while his side kick punched me in the face.I fell backwards trying to grab the unit for support,i wasn't quick enough and my head bounced off the corner of the cupboard knocking me to the ground.Jerry struck me with his walking stick,telling me to stay down,i saw an opportunity and took it.Kicking out i knocked the stick from his hand,he stumbled but his pal saved him from falling,the look in his eyes told me i had just made a big mistake.
The stick struck me on the side of the head,while his pal kicked me in the ribs.Winded i struggled to get to my feet,the pal told me i could make this easy on myself or hard,it was my choice.No way was i going to make it easy for them,"go screw yourself"was my response.Needless to say this infuriated them both,"you have to push it don't you"Jerry sneared nodding at the other bloke who grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up.As he did so Jerry jabbed me hard between the legs with his walking stick,foolishly i yelped out in pain much to the amusement of my tormentors.The other bloke pushed me back against the sink,and pressed himself against me trying to get hold of the top of my trousers.Like lightening i brought my knee up into his groin as hard as i could,"You fucking slut"he spat.Jerry grabbed my operation site,the pain took my breath away and before i knew it i was slammed down onto the floor once more.Jerry placed his stick on my wound saying"don't try owt n i won't have to hurt you".
The pal pulled at my trousers,as i tried to stop him Jerry pressed a little harder on my wound.I stopped struggling and it was over in minutes,as his pal was pulling his pants up my darling Uncle urinated over me.I couldn't help it i vomitted splashing them both.Jerry was furious,yelling at me what a dirty fucking slag i was,nothing but a mucky whore,no wonder i can't keep a man or friends for that matter.I told him this was nothing new what he was saying,and to be honest it has got really boring.Knowing it didn't matter what they did to me now,i began to mock them.One of Jerry's most hated things is been called pet,so i kept saying things like whats matter pet,what you so angry for,is it cos you can't manage it now what with you been nearly dead.You daren't even come on your own anymore eh pet,because you know i will win you on a one to one.
Pretty stupid antagonising him really,but it was my only way of defence,and while i am concentrating on what to say to piss him off,i don't feel the pain,and the tears won't come.Once they had left,i ran myself a hot bath with lots of bleach in.I scrubbed myself raw,desperate to get rid of any trace of what had just happened.My eye and cheek were swollen,and my lip was grazed.My head had been bleeding but it wasn't really that sore.Jerry rang me later,telling me it wasn't meant to turn violent.It was my fault,i made them do it.If i hadn't tried to stop them coming in,or having their bit of fun it would have been fine.So yet again no matter what happened to me,i asked for it,it was my fault.Those words are the story of my life.

Today is a bad day,everything feels like it is too much to cope with.The mental torture is crushing me,everything is running round and round in my head and it feels like it is going to explode,exposing everything for all and sundry to see and scrutinize.The physical pain is dragging me down too.The pain from the operation site can be bad at times,but has been made worse recently after several knocks and bangs,not to mention the physical attacks from Uncle Jerry.I can't help but wonder why? Why did i have to be born into that family? Why did i keep my silence for so long,and why after fighting so hard to survive,do i wish i hadn't ??
Some people say life is what you make it,while some say things are sent to try us.Well i have tried to make something of my life,but it seems every time i start to get somewhere life turns round and smacks me in the face.Jerry is on a mission at the minute,he hates the fact i am getting on with life,no matter what he throws at me.He hates it that the J's haven't disowned me,no matter what i have disclosed to them.He hates it that i no longer hide myself away,frightened to leave the house for fear of another beating,or attack by someone Jerry has got on his side.Don't get me wrong;it's not easy,but i have to continue to fight for the sake of those who really matter.
My children know nothing of my abuse,and i would never ever want them to.Every time i have cuts or bruises from the latest attack,i think of an excuse.I have fallen,or walked into something.They have known this all there life,and often joke about how i could trip up over a matchstick.When they were younger Uncle Jerry would force his way into my house when the kids were in bed;not once did i make a noise and risk waking them up,no matter what he did to me.He raped and beat me often,but i could not risk my kids waking up and seeing that for fear of what it would do to them emotionally and mentally.
The J's are my rocks,but knowing how angry they get when Jerry is on one of his missions,worries me greatly.They hate it when he hurts me,it makes them angry and they want to stop him;and even though they promise me they won't do anything without my say so,i still get scared.Believe it or not things could get a lot worse for me,and i am lucky that the J's know this,and i believe this is the only reason they haven't taken matters in to their own hands.A part of me would love to bring Uncle Jerry and his cronies to justice;but this is never going to happen,i couldn't put my children through the torture they would have to endure(mentally it would destroy them).It would put every one involved in grave danger,and none of us need to be put in that position.I guess to a degree i am always in danger,but thats how my life has always been.The big difference now though,is that someone actually cares.Knowing that i have someone to turn to still feels kind of strange,yet very comforting.
My feelings seem to be changing minute by minute at the moment.I am flitting from Anger to Fear,from hope to desperation in the blink of an eye.One minute i feel like i am strong enough to carry on,the next i feel like that terrified little girl,desperate to be taken care of and held tightly in safety.Remembering the feelings of self hate and worthlessness,makes me feel so down that i struggle to want to live anymore.But i guess i am living these days;where as i spent so long merely existing,so that has to be a positive -doesn't it? I long for the day my Abusers finally die,i know this makes me a bad person,but i can't help the way i feel.Trying to imagine how i will feel when i hear the news is very hard,confusing even.It will be the best news ever,knowing he could never again hurt me,or make me feel like nothing.Living without the constant fear and continual harassment;will be very very strange,and in a way i think this in itself will be a little scary,as i haven't had a life without some sort of abuse.
My main struggle at the moment is staying strong,i feel like i am fighting every minute of every day,and never sure if i am going to win.When i am feeling reasonably ok,i am determined that i will be the winner.When i am going through melt down,i am not even sure if i want to,yet i know i don't have a choice.As i have said in a poem,i can't give in,can't let them win,and this is what i try to remember on bad days like today.

Uncle Jerry and his pals worked hard to come up with new ways to abuse and torture me,it was almost like a competition to see who could create the best games as they called them.Some were much worse than others,but all were degrading,painful and extremely abusive.After each of the games were carried out,they would almost congratulate the creator saying if it was better or not as good as the last one they tried.Some of the games even had names,and even now after all these years hearing those words they used as names causes me great distress,and a fear so great that i feel physically ill.Remembering the events causes me so much pain,both physically and mentally,that my body automatically responds in the way that it did during or after the actual abuse.This can be many different ways;physical pain so strong it can take my breath away, uncontrollable shaking,and of course the vomiting and nightmares that often follow such an event.
My abusers were in my opinion very very sick individuals,who thought nothing of using many different tools and gadgets not to mention animals,to torture and terrorize me.As i mentioned in a previous post,they led me to believe i had broken an alsation's leg kicking out at it to stop it biting my head.They had brought this poor dog in purely to satisfy their sick perverted needs,they wasn't bothered about either mine or the dogs welfare,so long as they got satisfaction.My hands were cuffed to the bed,and dog meat strategically placed both on and inside my body; apparently this was so the dog would like me,and not see me as a threat.Once the dog had eaten he was taken outside,and my uncle and his friend then had sex with me.Sasha my dog was in season,and Jerry brought her upstairs where she immediately jumped on me excitedly licking and wanting to comfort me.Jerry took Sasha straight back down stairs,and the other dog returned.I was forced onto my hands and knees;the smell of Sasha caused a great deal of excitement in the male dog,and he did what came naturally to him.I screamed and tried to move,i tried so god damn hard to get him off me,all the while Uncle Jerry and his friends were laughing like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.I became hysterical Jerry punched me in the ribs and the side of the head;throwing my head back as far as i could get it i made contact with the dogs head,this was a major mistake on my part.The dog launched itself on my head;its huge teeth sinking into my skull,shaking my head side to side."Get it off her get it off her now"Jerry shouted.The owner was calling the dog off but it took a few shouts before i felt his jaws releasing,this is when i kicked out as hard as i could and the dog fell from the bed with a yelp.The dog was taken away;while i lay there blood pumping from the bite sites,Jerry and his pal brought towels to try to stop the blood.While his pal applied pressure he brought some kind of disinfectant and a nail brush,and began to clean me up inside.The pain from the nail brush was nothing compared to the pain of the dog.
They couldn't get the bleeding to stop for more than a few minutes;i begged them to take me to hospital,promising i wouldn't say what had really happened.Uncle Jerry was taking no chances,but agreed i did need medical help.He went to the phone,coming back to say it was ok,his Dr friend was on his way,and until he arrived all they had to do was keep me still and keep up the pressure on the wounds.It is extremely hard to stay still when you are in absolute agonizing pain,yet every time i tried to move one of them would hit me.They at least had the decency to cover me with a blanket before the Dr arrived.When he did arrive he said the wounds needed stitching,but not to worry as he had come prepared.Searing pain tore through my skull again and again as the Dr stitched up my wounds,for gods sake,hadn't they heard of anesthetic!He said the stitches would have to stay in for a week,and that he would come back and remove them then.I was told to say thank you;i refused,but Jerry struck me with the back of his hand where the stitches were,and i realised it was easier to just say it.
Expecting the Dr to leave after i thanked him,i asked for the handcuffs to be removed,which Jerry duly did.Turning over to a sitting position i pulled the cover up under my chin;"come on now,no need to be shy with me is there"the Dr smirked as he pulled the cover from me.Undoing his trousers he climbed on top of me,i tried to hit him but Jerry and his friend both grabbed my hands.While the Dr was having sex with me,the other two placed my hands on their bits and made me pleasure them.I am thoroughly ashamed to admit that i didn't even try to pull away,i had no fight left in me !!!

I waited until i could hear Uncle Jerry snoring on the sofa,then i crept downstairs and went straight to where i knew the pain killers were kept.Grabbing all i could find and the rest of the whiskey,i returned to my room.Lighting a cig first,i emptied the pills out and took the lid off the bottle.A drag of the cig,a handfull of pills,and a huge swig of whiskey.Slowely the pain started to ease,i was a little scared at what i was doing,but i knew i had no other choice.A strange feeling came over me,i wasn't sure what it was at first but then i realised - it was utter calmness.Everything kept going black,but i wasn't scared this is what i wanted,then peace and total darkness.
Someone was slapping me across the face,i was been held up and dragged around.Something disgusting been poured down my throat- greasy,oily,vile.As fast as it went down,it came back up.Keep her walking i heard my mother yelling at Jerry,we have to keep her awake.Another slap,another mouthful of olive oil,all the while i could hear mother rambling on about what they would have told my dad,if she hadn't found me."Just leave me alone" i cried,"let me die"!The Dragon was furious now,screaching at me what a selfish little bastard i really was,there was my dad who worked his arse off to put a roof over my head,and to pay for our annual holiday,and here i am wanting to throw it all back in his face."You don't care about anyone but yourself,what would it do to your poor father if he knew you didn't give a fiddlers fuck about him"
They carried on walking me round and round,and making me vommit most of the night,and once they were sure i was definately going to survive Mother gave me a good beating and threw me on to the bed,where i stayed without any hesitation.Desperation had dragged me to suicide,but they were right,i was fucking useless and stupid,i couldn't even kill myself without making a pigs ear of it.I had never felt so sad or lonely as i did there and then,and i knew for certain i had only made things much worse for myself now,now the beatings would come thick and fast,and god knows what else,but i knew deep down this was my fault for not thinking things through,and not trying to take my life where no one would find me.So in the words of my mother and uncle,it was gods pay back.

Well i posted the letter to Uncle Jerry,and to say he was angry is an understatement.He rang me hurling abuse,and had the cheek to call me vindictive.Nothing i put in the letter wasn't true,he didn't deny any of it except where i called him evil, apparently any one of his friends will say what a nice bloke he is.In my opinion nice blokes don't rape and torture children,or adults for that matter,nice blokes don't do everything they can to keep someone so down that they don't feel like living anymore.Maybe i have got it wrong,and nice blokes do all of the above.
I am determined that no matter what Jerry say's or threatens me with,or physically puts me through i am not going to let him knock me back down. Obviously there will be times when the abuse affects me and i get a little down,but i know i have to fight it if i want to win this war.Often when he talks about an event that happened,i end up straight back in that horrible place(inside my head),the pain feels as real as it was when it happened,the feelings of been dirty and worthless come flooding back,just like the guilt.These are the times that are hardest to cope with.I believe 99% of the time i was not to blame,yet at times he can still make me feel that it was all my own fault,that something i said or did made them treat me so appallingly.
One of the things Uncle Jerry gets pleasure from talking about is how many men i had "slept" with by the time i was sixteen.All of which were involved by him,and they most certainly wasn't sleeping!Take the card night for instance,i was the payment at the end of the evening for the winner.This was the norm most weeks,and went on for months and months,until one evening things took a terrible turn.I had served them drinks all evening,and as usual they were free to do whatever they wanted to me,apart from intercourse.Jerry told me i could have five minutes for a cig and a drink,seen as i had worked hard,i took them up to my room away from the dirty smelly perverted men sat in my living room.
The youngest of the gang came upstairs,he told me to get out as soon as i got a chance,just go he said,and get as far away as possible,then he kissed me gently on the lips.Jerry was at the bedroom door saying"I see you have started with out us".They were all there now,five or six of them plus Uncle Jerry.I was forced down on the bed,and they each took their turn at raping me.I tried to fight back,but i just wasn't strong enough,they were grown men and i was still a child.Every time i tried to get away i was punched,kicked,bitten and beaten to the point of been almost unconscious.The more they did,the more excited they got!At one point they were all at me in one way or another,arguing over who should be the first to rape me Anally.Jerry told them to calm down,obviously he was going first,but they would all get their turn.As son as Jerry was done,they all changed round and did what they could with which ever part of my body they now had access to.It went on for hours,and by the time they had finished i was bleeding from every where possible.There wasn't a part of my body that hadn't been entered,nor an inch that wasn't battered and bruised,i lay there unable to to find a position that wasn't excruciating,sobbing quietly to myself,i knew there was nothing going to change,and they were never going to leave me alone now Jerry had let them go so far.My mind was made up,this is it,this is the time to die.

Dear Uncle

Dear Jerry,
Why if you have only done the things you have done to me for my own good,and because it is what i deserved,are you so concerned at the J's knowing every sordid detail? Why do you insist you are not a pedophile? Why do you say that because you only ever treated me in such a manner,this doesn't make you a bad person? Is it because thats what you truly believe,or is it that saying that makes you feel better about the Abuse and Torture you inflicted upon me all my life?
You remember nearly everything,even things that i had shut away and i guess in a way forgotten.The pleasure heard in your voice when you think you have reminded of something,is nothing but plain evil.When you bring something up only to be told (my mates)know about it,and still haven't turned their backs on me,it tears you up inside,doesn't it? You have always had such power over me,every time i have just about got my head above water.you have been there to drag me back down hoping that this time i will actually drown.Well i am sorry to disappoint you Jerry,but i am going to stay afloat.You could say the J's(my mates)are my arm bands,my lifeguards,my friends and my family all rolled into one,and nothing you do or say will ever ever alter that fact!!
Remember the incident with the dog?Thats right you do,well all those years i hated myself because i thought i had broken its leg when i kicked out at it while it was mauling my head,yet when i revealed all the dirty nasty details J very quickly made me doubt i could have broken it.A fully grown Alsatian could withstand a lot more than a kick from a young child.You laughed when i questioned you about it,how sick does that make you?I still have scars on my head,but you know that don't you,you often ask how the scabs are doing because you know i am down and you are winning when they are there.I sincerely hope you have enjoyed all the times you have won,because no matter what you do or say to me now,you will never again win.
You know i have written things down what you, and the rest of your peado ring have done to me,if only you knew how many people had actually seen that writing,i think you might die of fear.You know if you were ever tried for the Abuse,you would never leave prison alive,you might not even survive long enough to stand trial,thats how purely evil and sadistic you were and still try to be.The big difference now though Uncle Jerry,is i am no longer alone,no longer that terrified person,and more importantly i no longer believe any of it was my fault!!!!
So lastly i want to say,i am not a bad person,i have never hurt or abused a child,i have done everything in my power to protect my kids.To the point of staying perfectly silent while you raped and beat me,knowing they were upstairs asleep.So you see,i have survived,i will survive and i am a survivor!! You on the other hand was,is and always will be a dirty evil sadistic pedophile,who has to live with the knowledge of what you have done,all the while dying a slow painful death.When you finally croak it,will be the best day of my life,and believe me when i say i will most definitely be having a jar or two to celebrate

The shame of knowing someone has read the posts,feels almost as bad as the incident itself.The anger expressed wasn't directed at me,but at Jerry,yet i still felt the shame and the fear.I worry my actions or writing will still push the J's away,they tell me constantly nothing i have been through will make them feel less towards me,and i know every time i get down i am allowing the abusers power to take over and i know i have to keep hold of the strength i have - somehow.
After the incident with the kitten,this became one of Jerry's favorite pass times.Sometimes when i was extremely hungry and begged for food,Uncle Jerry would smear a slice of stale bread with excrement and force it into my mouth.If i hadn't eaten more than a couple of mouldy carrots for a few days,i would try to get the bread down so fast i would nearly choke myself,but that way i couldn't taste what was in it.Disgusting and vile yes!Before you judge me,think for a minute-have you ever been so hungry that every inch of your body aches,your head spins with every movement,and you are struggling to even make a little saliva to keep you going ? No then i am happy for you,but if god forbid you ever found yourself in my position with sadistic people watching your every move i think maybe you too would be almost grateful to receive the above.Why didn't anyone notice the sunken eyes and the struggle to cope day to day?They did,but if anyone made a comment they were told very quickly i was a fussy eater,and i wouldn't go to sleep at a decent time.I guess to some extent the latter was true,yet it was pure fear and often shear pain that stopped me sleeping.To this day i have trouble sleeping,and issues with food,yet with the love and support i receive from the J's,these are battles i am slowly winning,and maybe thats what i need to focus on when things are bad-the fact that with a lot of support i am winning at least a little,despite the constant harassment and violent outbreak's from my loving family.

New year - -New me

The last time i posted here i had just left hospital,after having surgery due to damage received from my abusers over the years.Unfortunately the operation wasn't succesful and the injuries almost cost me my life at the begining of this year,but with major surgery and a determination not to let them win i have survived their latest attacks,and i believe i am stronger than before(most of the time).
Unle Jerry has taken great pleasure in trying to knock me back down,trying to make me relive some of the most harrowing,degrading,sickening torture that he and his fellow abusers put me through.He has almost succeeded at times,yet somehow i managed to spill the beans to the J's and no matter how bad or sick or dirty i was feeling,they never once didn't want to listen.I could hear the anger in their voices,see the disgust in their eyes,yet they still made me feel loved and wanted and thats what has given me the courage to return to blogging.The events that happend still torture me mentally,and may be rather difficult for me to write,and also you to read,but please don't judge me i was just a child !!! Six years old and already feeling desperately lonely and unloved,the lady a few doors down had a litter of kittens i often heard crying.One day the pull of the tiny kittens cries were too much for me to ignore,so i snook in and stole the noisiest one there.I hid the wriggling little bundle in the airing cupboard where it was nice and warm,i fed it on warm milk and dog food,sneaking it back and forth from the cupboard to my bedroom at every opportunity.Jerry found the kitten and said he was taking it back,and the police were going to come and take me away,i begged him not to telling him how much the kitten and i were alike and needed each other.Uncle Jerry thought for a while then said if i did something special,something secret,he would pretend he didn't know about the kitten.He told me what i had to do,and i said i didn't want to! My choice he said,do it or the police take you and i take the kitten.It didn't really feel like a choice at all,but i longed for the closeness and warmth i had with the kitten,so i did what he wanted.He pulled his trousers down,stood with his legs apart and told me to get to work.I started to feel sick almost at once,trying to barely touch his skin with my tongue.Do it properly he barked hitting me in the side of the head,silent tears ran down my face as i licked first the front then round the back,all the time thinking i am doing this for my kitten!Uncle Jerry made me do it over and over,making sure i got my tongue inbetween his cheeks,vomit rising with the smell and the taste of faeces.Once he had finished masturbating i could stop,while i was been sick,he returned my kitten to the breeder and laughed and laughed as he told me he had done so.I couldn't tell anyone,because as he said I was the Thief not him.

POEM Depression

Depression pressing down ,its vice like grip squeezing the last of the rational thoughts from me.
The blanket of fog casting its shadow,blocking any hope of light.The feeling of impending doom,the terrible fear like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
The loneliness and isolation crashing down like thunder,and the pain inside like lightening striking a tree.
Waves crashing against the rocks,pulling me under,i dont know if i am strong enough to keep afloat.
Water filling my lungs,down i go,deeper and deeper into the despair,no one to notice does anyone care!
Coughing and spluttering im back on dry land,water been pumped from my lungs,arms squeezing me tightly.
A voice whispering in my ear,don't you dare give up,you have to fight.
I try to ignore it and try to give in,but the fog seems to be listening and begins to lift.
The darkness has cracks in where light can get through,slowly moving towards the light,i realise now i have a choice.
Straining to adjust my eyes in the light,i notice it.A hand reaching down,offering me help.
I reach out and clasp it as tight as i can,slowly i am been pulled back up from the depths of despair.
The jaws of depression snapping at my heels,trying to keep control.I hold on tightly as i move up a bit more.
Not quiet at the top yet,but nearer than i am to the bottom.I can see the darkness disappearing,one day there may be only light.