From the age of 14 to about 23. It came in two different kinds of stages.
14-17 I was secretly being abused on a regular basis by my step father (he had raised me from 3 years old so I called him Daddy) I thought that would be the worst mental state I would ever be in. I would have ended my own life if I was sure that he wouldn't move on to my little sisters if I were out of the picture. My senior year my mom was deployed to Iraq, leaving him to be the sole guardian of us three girls. Figured it was better to just suffer than to allow my sisters any possibility of being hurt.
At 17 I finally broke the silence and he fled the state. I thought keeping the secret all those years was hard but it was nothing to dealing with not only telling people but having most not believe me. I felt like I single handedly ruined my family and more than once I contemplated telling them I lied just to try and take the pain away. I moved out ASAP and was nearly excluded from the family (my mom still took my sisters to go see him in the other state because they were his 'real' daughters and he wouldn't do that to them... plus she didn't really believe me- we both knew that) It wasn't until he killed himself that I started to heal. Eventually the family started to as well. It's been about 5 years since he died and now we just don't discuss it.
14-17 I was secretly being abused on a regular basis by my step father (he had raised me from 3 years old so I called him Daddy) I thought that would be the worst mental state I would ever be in. I would have ended my own life if I was sure that he wouldn't move on to my little sisters if I were out of the picture. My senior year my mom was deployed to Iraq, leaving him to be the sole guardian of us three girls. Figured it was better to just suffer than to allow my sisters any possibility of being hurt.
At 17 I finally broke the silence and he fled the state. I thought keeping the secret all those years was hard but it was nothing to dealing with not only telling people but having most not believe me. I felt like I single handedly ruined my family and more than once I contemplated telling them I lied just to try and take the pain away. I moved out ASAP and was nearly excluded from the family (my mom still took my sisters to go see him in the other state because they were his 'real' daughters and he wouldn't do that to them... plus she didn't really believe me- we both knew that) It wasn't until he killed himself that I started to heal. Eventually the family started to as well. It's been about 5 years since he died and now we just don't discuss it.
“What screws us up the most in life is the picture in our head of what it's supposed to be.”
Also if your signature makes my scrolling mess up "you're tacky and I hate you."
Also if your signature makes my scrolling mess up "you're tacky and I hate you."
