Let me first introduce myself I am here because well I'm a survivor or so I"ve convinced myself anyway. When I was a child I wanted nothing more then to feel safe, loved, and protected. It was quite far from that fantasy where I lived. My youngest memories of my father were of him beating my mother and shoving her face into walls busting through them. Her promising me after it was done she was ok when I could clearly at the age of 5 see she wasn't. At age 6 she taught me how to call the police, what to say, and all that jazz....it was shortly after this tho that my father decided that a sliding lock on the outside of my bedroom door was necessary. My mother's beatings became a muffled noise I heard in the night and the door mysteriously would never open. It wasn't till I was nearly 8 that I got to make that phone call to the police after escaping through my bedroom window and sneaking around to the back door as my mothers face and body was being imprinted into the walls and floor in our house. All I could hope was my father wouldn't notice me standing on the chair in our kitchen as I spoke into the phone...but he did. I blacked out and the next thing I remember we're in a shelter in the small town we lived in. I was 8 then and I am 29 now and after many counselors and many medications I still remember this like it was just yesterday. This wasn't the end of the attacks tho because like many abused people they truly think the person will change and my mother decided to take him back.....things were gonna be different....Oh boy were they ever! He no longer attacked my mother...I became his target. From the age of 8 till I was nearly 11 it was a daily if not hourly ritual in my home to get "knocked around". Now that I'm older I realize that it didn't matter what I did, he was gonna do it. It's not as though he was a drunk or a druggie, he was just my dad, my very angry abusive dad. I wasn't an only child in any aspect other than I was the only child being abused in my home. I don't remember my mother ever protecting me and it was in my teens that I began to hold that grudge. At any rate a week before Christmas the year I was 10 my mother sat me down and asked if I wanted dad to stop hurting me. Of course I thought this meant in my dream land that she had some miracle cure to make him happy...I said yes! She hugged me and told me things would be different and sent me on my way I told my best friend how things would get better very soon! I was so excited like santa himself was bringing me this special gift. It was 2 days before Christmas when it all happened and my world changed forever, my mom told my dad we were going to rent a movie...I didn't know any better so I got excited. Instead she took me to the police station and I went through what I would have to say has to be the most uncomfortable thing I can remember that year happening. I had to tell these strangers everything, I had to show them my bruises and worst of all I had to sit behind this funny mirror and watch as my dad was brought in handcuffs through the station. I was confused and shocked and I'm not quite sure what else in that moment. I mean seriously I thought she was gonna make dad happy not make him go away. That was the last I seen of my father...standing in a hall with cuffs on freaking out because he had no idea what was going on. He was bailed out 24 hours later from what I hear and I didn't get to speak to him till my 11th birthday when he told me I wasn't his daughter and he never was going to see me again. I spent many years after that 8 in total wondering if I had just told mom no I don't want it all to stop what could have been different. When I turned 19 I went in search of answers, I had so many questions that I wanted to ask him and I was 100% sure that his family was hiding him. I drove straight through the night to get to my answers to find the answers I was looking for didn't exist but there were many others that I never thought to think of. His family which I knew practically nothing about had letters and pictures and recordings of phone calls from my mother, the same mother that had spent years telling me they all wanted nothing to do with us. All these letters seemed to be hurtful and the recording was worst of all. It took me back to a place I thought I had long been over...my 11th birthday. It was my mom and dad talking and her telling him we hated him, her telling him to say he hated us, him begging her to not make him do it, then you hear my 11 yr old voice and you hear the dreaded echo of him telling me I wasn't his daughter all over again. Needless to say this ruined me for quite some time and even 10 years after hearing it a second time I am haunted by it. I never did find my father he seemed to have vanished from everyone's lives, I've tried search companies, I've called social security. I pretty much have given up hope but every year around Christmas time I start to remember it all....and every time it all comes flashing back like a wound with salt poured into it. I spend my holiday's depressed and it leads all the way up to my birthday in April. By the time May rolls around I'm fine again and I stay fine till Christmas...except this year. I can't seem to stop thinking bout him, I can't seem to stop wondering. I'm no longer angry with him because I've learned anger gets me no where when it comes to this. I no longer yearn to know the answers. I don't get what my "sick attachment" to him is. I now have children of my own and everyday as I correct them for things they do wrong I worry am I turning into him? My family thinks I'm obsessed and I need to just "get over it"....This just enrages me to be honest...none of them have ever had to deal with this so how do they know what I should be feeling? My fiance thinks I need to just let it go....again hello not that simple! I don't know how else to survive and I feel like I'm just convincing myself that I'm a survivor from May to Dec. and the rest of the year I'm still a victim....Who knows maybe I'm a victim all year around and I'm living in a delusion. Sorry this got so long...I wasn't expecting to write so much....Any incite would be greatly appreciated.
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