There is a lot of hurt there. And a fair amount of fear. And going through it God knows I wished I was anywhere but there. I use to dream that I was adopted and someone would come and rescue me from it all. I would count down the years till I turned 18 and would leave. 

But right here and right now I wouldn't want to change it. I am glad I went through it all. It has made me the preson I am. And this person nows has hopes and dreams and the desire to change her future and take control of her life. She knows that she can't change the past, and has no control over what has already happened. But she doesn't care. She knows that if those years of her life hadn't happened she wouldn't be here, the person she is, knowing what she does, and who she is now. 


And I am slowly learning to like this person, so all in all I am so very glad that I have suffered through what I have because it has made me stronger made me a survivor and I know that now that what happened was a good thing. It made me who I am. 

Verbal abuse is still abuse. Mental Abuse is still abuse. Emotional abuse is still abuse. Just because it is not visible doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt just as much. 

Emotional abuse changed me in ways I can't describe. All I knew was how to be depressed. I was afraid to be myself. I was afraid of who I really was. I was afraid of so many things. I was afraid to let people close to be, for fear that they might hurt me, like he did. I was afraid so much. But it was a different type of fear. Fear of the unknown, instead of fear of Him. 

I feel that the best way to explain this is through photos so here we go...

I never cut my wrists, or seriously made myself bleed, or any of that stuff...but I did scratch the skin off my arms several times when it got too much for me to cope with, but I can understand perfectly why people want to do it, and why people go so far as to commit suicide...

Strange concept I guess, but that is what I had to do. I had to learn to love life again. And I can't say I was totally successful, because that would be lying. And I don't want to do that. There are still parts of my life that I don't love. And there are parts of my life that I don't particularly like. But isn't that the way with everyone. I didn't wish to love my whole life. I just needed to accept my life. And that was harder done than said believe me. How can you accept the fact that I had been abused by my own Dad? I didn't know. And it was not like anyone could tell me...

But deep down I knew it was something I had to do if I was to move on. 

I had to find a way of not only accepting my past, but learning to live in the present. 

It was hard, and it did take time, but eventually I found a way to let my Father go. 

It was like having a box, and packing all the bad memories inside, and then sealing it, putting on a really high shelf, and only ever taking it down to add others in. Others that for whatever reason I did not want to remember. 

I remember sitting on my bed on night, it was late and my room was pitch black, there was just this tiny gap in my curtains, and I looked out into the night, and did this. I put all the memories of my Father in this cardboard box and put them away, because I didn't want to remember them, or him. 


I wanted him gone...out of my life. And I never, ever wanted to see him again for as long as I live. 

Kat x

It was okay, yet obviously, as normal, it wasn't easy, and there were problems. You see whenever I walked into my counseling sessions, I tended to leave all emotion at the door. For the simply reason that it was only by being detached that I could talk. About anything. 

I knew that I needed to bring the emotion into everything, but I couldn't. And I never could. Not once during the whole time I was counseled did I ever open up. So, in short, I have never actually spoken about the actual abuse with anyone. And nor will I. For the simple reason my mind has decided to forget everything. 

I wanted it all to end...life was stupid, upsetting and so very frustrating. I couldn't cope with feeling, feeling anything. Being numb was so much easier. 

I didn't want my family, I didn't want my friends, I didn't want school, I didn't want to learn, I didn't want any of it, I didn't want to live. Yet I know I couldn't die. So what was I meant to do? 

There was no escape. I had no freedom. My Mum was always there. There was no way out of it. I didn't want to see people. Yet I didn't want Mum following me everywhere. 

I just feel so useless, like I wasn't wanted. And maybe I wasn't, I never did anything right, and I really didn't try, I was just like a spare part. Not really a part of anything. Just there.

Nothing made me feel better, and so I retreated more and more into myself, living inside my head. In a world only I knew existed. A world that is still with me. A World that helps me through each and every day, good or bad. 

I knew what I needed though. I needed a friend. A friend who knew me better than I knew myself. I needed a friend to love me, who I could turn to when I was feeling down, who would hug me, and love me and tell me it was going to be okay. In short what I needed was a Connie...(I'll explain another time).

I had plenty of these...which my Mum was not pleased with...I could be so happy one moment...the next rock bottom...and so she came up with a 'simply solution'. Hormone Tablets. They didn't work. I am still on them. Because it keeps her happy. But seriously..there was no difference. I just learnt to hide the rock bottom moments. 

And I guess thats what you have to do. You have to stop thinking of how rough you feel, and work towards making other people happy. 

I did hate most of my family during that period because, simply I couldn't be honest with them, I had to be the happy bunny, not that I did a good job of that. They all knew I was not happy, yet they didn't know how to help me, but then again who does know who to deal with abuse? They thought that counseling would help me. But then Mum would question me about the counseling session, and well what was I going to tell her. That I felt that the only reason I was trying to be 'better' was because of her? That I didn't know who I was? That I hated myself? I think not. So counseling just became awkward. 

But hell, I still went, because it made my family happy. It made my Mum feel like she was helping me. It made them think that I was getting 'better'. And that is what you have to do. Do things that don't necessarily make you happy, but make others happy. You have to be an adult. And put others first. 

Kat xox

There was a point were I did consider it. When I did think that I would be better off dead. Where I thought that no one would really notice if I died. Where I thought that no one cared so I might as well die and save myself the pain of living. Thank God I had people there to talk sense into me! It wasn't my Mum though, she never knew that I was that bad. She never knew that I felt like dying sometimes. 

I guess I never seriously considered it, because surely if I really wanted to die I would have just killed myself right? But anyway, I told Sara that I felt like dying, and well she just told me not to, and after an hour long talk I left the room and never considered killing myself again. She told me that I wouldn't be better off dead, that I had so much to live for. That she would notice, and care if I died, as would my family, she told me to consider my Mum's feelings. And so I knew that I couldn't kill myself. 

Because as bad as it was for me, surely it would be worse for those around me, knowing that I didn't feel that they were enough, knowing that they should have helped me. So I didn't die, because I didn't want them to  hurt. And that is what you have to consider right? Because you are not the only one hurting, yes, you may be hurting the most. But those around you will be hurting so badly if you die, probably hurting more than you did. 

So take a moment, and consider the bigger picture. And don't do it. 

It was August then. And I was up the city with my cousin, Helena, and my best friend, Shanie. I bought quite a lot of stuff, which for me, was a miracle, well back then it was. Not now!! How people change! 

Well anyway, I mentioned the fact that my Father had taken my birthday present to the solicitors, just before my actual birthday. I didn't know whether I should have got it or not. Anyway, all my mates thought that I should. But I just wasn't sure. And so Shanie, and Helena kept telling me I should, and to be honest I was really curious. 

Yea, and so we rang up my Mum, and though my connection was bad, and I couldn't really hear, I knew that she didn't want me to go, but anyway we couldn't, because we would have needed an appointment. 

The second I came off the phone I knew that I shouldn't have done it. That she would be upset, that I should have spoken to her about it. 

Yet, when I came home, not a word was mentioned, no argument, no nothing. I was on tender kooks for days. But nothing was EVER said. 

But all things pass, and over two years later, I don't really think about that day anymore. 

Nor do I think about my Father much now. Simply because I can't feel anything for him. Why should I waste emotions on a man like that? But it wasn't always like that...I wasn't always indifferent to the sexual abuse. I wasn't always able to cope...

Kat xx

We were 5 months down the line...5 months since I had disclosed...5 months since I had last seen my father...5 months since I had last seen my abuser...5 months since I had lived in constant fear...5 months since my world had been turned upside down...

It was weird really...I no longer thought about him...it was like I had packed him into a box and didn't think about him unless I had to. There were no unwanted memories...no unwanted thoughts...no flashbacks...no sleepless nights...there was nothing there...he was gone from my life, from my head, from my memories...he didn't exist in my life. 

I was numb...I wasn't thinking, feeling or anything...I was like a robot...and I didn't care....

But you should care...I should have tried. I just wanted the pain to disappear so I let myself become numb. Which was the worst thing I could have done. Not feeling meant that there was no happiness..no joy, no excitement. There was nothing there. I stopped hoping, I didn't see past that day. I was barely living. All I wished for was for everything to end...everything to stop, because I couldn't cope. I needed so much more time than I actually had. 

So shut the memories away, shut all the bad into a box, but keep the pain, because as hard as it is, it keeps you alive. And believe me, dying is not something you want to do. Because that just hurts you, and those around you all the more. 

Kat xx