A Life After Trauma

TRIGGER WARNING: This entry describes child sexual abuse.      Documenting this is very difficult for me. But I need to take away my uncle’s power over me somehow, so this will be the most detail I’ve ever gone into. Before 15 months old, my uncle had an all-access pass to my being. He gave me blanket rides and was constantly playing games with me. But I can’t remember way back then, so here we go.    My earliest memory occurred when I was 2, visiting my birth mother's family with my adoptive parents. My birth mom was, as usual, not present. My grandpa refused to be in the same building as me out of spite for his daughter not giving me to him. My grandma and great-grandma were awkwardly and uncomfortable chatting with my adoptive mom as my adoptive dad struggled to sit still.     I had vomited on myself during the car ride there. Fortunately, my great-grandma had a new dress for me. It was a cute, old fashion style toddler dress. Once everyone awk...

TRIGGER WARNING: This entry mentions suicide & child abuse.   Life after child abuse (defining child abuse as physical, sexual, or severe emotional abuse of a child) can be so difficult and painful. You hate the world, and it seems the world hates you. Maybe the company you have hates you (maybe not), but the world doesn’t. But the worst part of child abuse, any survivor can attest, isn’t your feelings towards and about others but your feelings towards yourself.     I spend all day pouring out apologies for having needs and wants. Plus, if one shows criticism towards me, I’ll both apologize and take us both on a long argumentative discussion to fulfill a very twisted need. A need best described as, “Am I bad? You know I’m bad. Just tell me I’m bad!”     As a child, my dad told me I was manipulative and spoiled rotten. I believed him for some reason. Whenever my dad bullied my mom, I tried to intervene. My mom would then tell me, “Stay out of it. Yo...