My Nightmare

When I was 5 days old I was adopted, here is my story of my life of abuse. Things were fine the first few years, but after my abuse started, I feel that is when my adopted mother stopped loving me, and i just became that problem child.

So when I was 4 years old, at least that is when my mom caught the neighbor boy who was 12 at the time, with me in my closet. He was giving me a blow job, and my mom opened the closet door and found us, and freaked out. She had thought that because she told the boy to never come over to the house again that it was over. Though he just took it around the corner to another boys house where there were about 6 of us kids. We really didn’t know what we were doing, and to me at this time, I liked the feelings I was having, mostly it was oral, with some fondling. I really didn’t consider this to be abuse, as I was so young and curious, but it definitely set the course of my life.

This went on in the neighborhood until we moved when I was about 9. We moved to a new neighborhood and it just continued as if it was normal. This was again with multiple boys in the neighborhood. This went on for approximately 4 years.

We then moved again, when I was about 12, this is when the abuse really started for me. The first was a family friend, who farmed the land around our house. He did everything with me, masturbation, oral and anal, and he wasn’t nice about it, for him, it was all about getting off, and not even if there was any pain involved. This went on for about three years until he died.

During this same time, another family friend started abusing me, and later in a foster home, he continued to abuse me. I really consider this to be the worst one. He was only concerned with what he wanted, and he got it by plying me with tobacco, drugs, and alcohol. He would crawl on his hands and knees, down the hallway to the room where I was sleeping, and beg me to come to his room. I would tell him, no, but he would not take that for an answer. He was very forceful and would not stop whenever I told him that it hurt. I was literally 4′ 9″ tall and weighed 70 lbs. So I was not in any position or strength to fight them off.

It wasn’t until I was 18 that I got brave enough to getaway. The last abuser would literally track me down, no matter where I was living. So, at 18, I called my dad and told him that I needed $200.00 and that I was leaving the state, he asked why, but I wouldn’t tell him. It was to get away from his friend and co-worker who could not keep away from me.

So because of all the abuse, I turned to drugs and alcohol at a very early age. And later on, I started using meth and when I started to smoke it is when my thought process changed severely and I started having those same thoughts as what happened to me so many years before. I was a very heavy meth user, smoking an 8-ball of meth a day. This eventually led to my abusing others, as I had been. I truly believe.

I was arrested in 1994 for sex with 3 boys, aged 9-10, was charged and convicted of this, and sentenced to 18 years with ½ time. Upon my thoughtful release, I was taken in for a civil commitment case and have now been here since 2006. I was never given a proper Probable Cause, nor was I given a trial. I was coerced into self-committing myself, which I later found out can’t be done. This in no way means I feel what I did was ok. I know this is and was a different me and at a different time.

So I was sent to a state hospital, for an indeterminate commitment. I have been here since 2006, and now my brother, and some friends, who don’t believe that I belong here are coming forward to help me get back home. So now with my family and some friends going to bat for me, I am hopeful that this is my last year here.

Every day is a struggle with the inner hate, trying to make sense of it all, trying to forgive myself for what has happened to others and me. Being here is a daily reminder of my past, my past abuse, and what I have done, it will never go away. And in some strange way, I feel it shouldn’t.

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