For a long time I never thought I would move on and that the abuse would always dominate my whole being. Everyday I woke up and went to sleep with it firmly on my mind, what terrible thing will inflict on me today.
I used to think ‘this is my life and it will never change’.
Every time I thought I had managed to carve my way out of the horror story I had lived through for eleven years of my life something happened which pulled me straight back in again. But I am living proof that you can actually put yourself back together and that time, help and self motivation can all work in your favour to get you through it.
These days, although of course, I will never forget what happened to me I like to think it has made into the strong person I am. It has taught me not to take anything for granted, seize each moment as if it were my last.
I have learnt through experience that people can be so cruel but if you can rise above it you will grow and leave them behind in their own sorry state, frozen in time like a fossil.
For a very long time I wouldn’t speak about what had happened to me because I felt ashamed, dirty, and very guilty, I felt it must have some how been my fault, I must have done something wrong and encouraged him to do these awful things to me!
Today, I know I was not to blame, I was a child and no matter what I may have done I couldn’t possible have asked for this, as he had so often told me. I now realise it was he who should feel guilty and ashamed, it was his fault, he was the grown up person and I was the child who was forced into the awful situation.
I could not fight back because he was too big and too scary, when I tried I would get beaten. I remember one time after I had told my mum what had happened again, he beat me, he punched me in the head and as he hit one side my head bounced off the wall the other. I was left with a lump on both sides and what was even worse mum stood by and watched it happen.
I learnt at an early to stage it was best to keep quiet and wait for it to be over, the more I protested the worse it would be for me.
I look back now and wonder how I never ended up in intensive care or at very least needing hospital treatment. He was usually quite careful with the beatings and rarely marked my face or parts of body that would be seen by outsiders but he could be quite brutal and would often leave me bruised and battered.
This was a man who was meant to nurture, care and love me, my own dear father!!!!! Now when I look back, which I try not to do too often, apart from when I am writing about my life, I no longer cry just at the thought of it all. I realise this man didn’t deserve children; he was a bully of the highest order.
As much as I hate him I also give thanks because he taught me a lot. He taught me how to be strong, face my fears and move on with my life. If I hadn’t faced that awful ordeal I would not be the person I am today.
At 47 I have had many experiences and this was just a small part of my whole being, I have made my own changes and now I don’t cry when I think about it, I write it down in the hope it might inspire someone else to move on with their life too.