Chilling 1

It is a wondrous thing. My life. One long scratching for survival or, just to be left alone in peace. Lay off the incessant demands.Even as a tiny toddler still in a crib, I had a mind of my own. So when I was fed boiled prunes ,little brown slugs floating in their nasty-looking brown juice, I got up- wobbled to the window and without too much stretching, tipped them out the window !

So at age six, when a man dressed in what I told the police ,were "soldier clothes", tried to lure me onto the side running board of his car- to see "something interesting"- I pretended to step on the board. Caught a glimpse of something that resembled the gross whitish bloated grubs that ate the vegetable garden plants. Milliseconds before he roared off- gunning the engine and disappeared around the corner.Minutes before, as I had crossed a street, he rolled up beside me and called through the open window- "Take down your pants". True to form, I had yelled NO and thought- boy- how weird is THAT-.

The subtle and the not at all subtle harassment continued and escalated as I matured.To the point where I could not understand why any girl/woman would WANT a date on Saturday night, much less any other night. By 19 I had pretty much given up on dating. It was in no way a pleasure to be fighting off tentacle hands guys groping and/or being called names I had never heard- . Lesbian. Was that someone who wouldn't just F##k a guy because HE wanted to ??? Some did not behave like cavemen- but, I was keen on my job and interested in almost -everything- and had girl after girl arriving at my apartment, with 1-3 babies and toddlers, asking to stay the night. I had irate husbands who pounded on my door the next day or night demanding to see their wives. These girls, with whom I had been to college, often had visible bruises. I just was- the dumb blonde- "Who ? oh- haven't seen her since college. You are her husband ? Oh -congratulations ! You are so lucky. " etc. They would slink off growling.At 20 I bought a piece of land. 20- 26 I don't remember much- I was working, content, had a job, car apartment, cat etc. To please my aging parents, who were increasingly worried because I was not married (they came from a world that required a man to "take care of" a wife and children". Decent people.): I accepted yet another marriage proposal from someone who seemed stable- my parents "accepted" him. And that was the beginning of the end -

Unwarranted guilt-

I was working flat out , in an excellent position-as I paid the mortgages, clothing- everything but some food. Two children are at the babysitter's. One- 7 months old- (6?) , the other, 1.7 years old. I go to pick them up- am off a bit earlier than usual. The babysitter meets me at the door with the older child- with a terrible look on her face. My husband- the child sexual predator, has come and taken the baby. I ask -how long ago-. Not long- . I drive like a fiend to get back. Arrive- fly into house. I cannot remember where the toddler was or where she went- if she came in- that is a blank. Still. Pervert comes rushing down the stairs, puffing and all red in the face. He says- gasping- don't go up- she's been sick- . Die you fuck.(I think) I go up. Find a sheet with -a circular wet mark about 5 inches in diameter- baby maybe was sucking on it ? She is on her stomach- a hastily thrown clean sheet on the crib mattress- not tucked in- and a new diaper. Her tiny bottom in the air, knees/legs curled under her. At some point- can't remember- immediate ?- I pick her up and put her on the changing table. Open the diaper. She had made desperate protesting noises when I picked her up (from behind). There is a flaming red friction burn mark around the anus, as if a red-hot two dollar piece had been held there and seared the skin. I grab the zinc paste. Gently pick up the legs- she stiffens her whole body and pulls/looks away. God. One part of my mind KNOWS what the bastard did. The other part is reeling from- how could anyone- who will believe me- what the hell do I do do I kill him do I try (again) to get out- can't tell social services- they won't believe me- can't be obvious he will kill me (already tried)She kind of convulses . A viscous white ribbon of matter is expelled. Ejaculate. I call the baby's name. Show her the paste on my finger. Say "it's mummy, it's mummy-" She suddenly focuses on me and the body relaxes. I put the paste on -gingerly. When he did this to the older one (as a baby) I did not connect. He wouldn't let me take her to the hospital (I realize now- until the burn marks went.)When I did go- the hospital didn't "connect" either.

The rest of the days and weeks are a complete blank- except-

A few days later, there are bruises on both legs. I cannot figure it out- my hand does not fit- the marks are too big- and, the marks don't fit the way I had held her legs to put on the paste.Two outlines of two hands- well- ten fingers-. I tried placing my hands every which way- I thought I had caused the bruises. It was years before I realised- the bruises were from HIM grabbing her- from behind, while she was on her stomach. And this being (male) got sole custody and then cut me out entirely from their lives. Then , everyone blamed me and thought I had done something wrong. I wish I WERE a witch and could bring down disaster on all the people who destroyed us.

Torture

For reasons that I haven't yet figured out, the flashbacks are hitting hard and heavy.
The really bad ones. For example; Easter, 1981. The child rapist's mother comes to visit. I take her (and the 7 month old baby to- - was it an auction?- Maybe just to see her old haunts. The 2.5 year old stayed home. Chrapist says he'll stay as she is due for a nap. Not far along in the little drive- the mother suddenly emphatically wants to go back. She was almost in a panic. Back we go- and she rushes out of the car and into the house. And upstairs. Chrapist comes rushing out of the house, all red in face. At the bottom of the stairs, the mother calls to me in a wavery voice-" XXXXXXXXXXXX- there's something wrong with xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.She won't move, she won't talk it's like she can't see me." I go up. I know now- but not then, that the tiny child was catatonic. There were chocolates on the bed, and she was dressed in an awful(to my eyes) pink quilted dressing gown. Never seen before nor after. This is the criminal who got custody. I went for divorce to save myself and my children. ALL my children. Wasn't believed or listened to. But then- neither were the police nor the doctor nor the psychiatrist etc. Insane.

Australian Shared Parenting Law Debate: Review: Broken Bonds Catalysts For Family Disputes

Australian Shared Parenting Law Debate: Review: Broken Bonds Catalysts For Family Disputes


Oh my.The nutters are all buzzing like a disturbed hornet's nest. These are down under nutters, but we have sub species all over N.America also.

Timeforjusticeandprotectionforthechildren

Timeforjusticeandprotectionforthechildren

Good place for information. Little opinion (but I looked very quickly) and lots of information. That is good and needed.

newport-news-va-scars-of-abuse-mothers.html from blogspot.com - StumbleUpon

newport-news-va-scars-of-abuse-mothers.html from blogspot.com - StumbleUpon

Blazing Cat Fur: Our Elites at Work: Pedophilia a sexual orientation...just like heterosexuality

Blazing Cat Fur: Our Elites at Work: Pedophilia a sexual orientation...just like heterosexuality


Glad to see others share my opinion of this hairball. (Hubert) He has been teaching for decades at a Montreal University. Decades of children have been destroyed by his "teachings/ideas" It goes like this : report child sexual abuse - especially if it is intrafamilial- and your abuser will just find a lawyer, social worker, mediator, doctor, psychologist "expert" and bingo- lose the the children. You are - crazy or a druggie or an alcoholic or a "loose woman"- any one or combination of the usual crap.

Haven't blogged in long time. Gets too much -and- there are some truly excellent ones out there-