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My abuse started around age 2-3. But really it started at birth, because my mom didn't even take me home from the hospital, I was premature and she said I wasn't her child, I was ugly. So when time for me to be released, My Grandmother took me home with her. But unfortunately my mom came back into the picture a year or so later, pregnant. She would terrorize me and my father would fondle me, she would see him while I was in my crib. She told me this with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. My first memory was when I was 6 years old, my father would visit even though he and my mom were divorced, he'd always come to my room and play his secret games. I know my mom knew what was going on. Later on about age 7, they would play the games with me together, all of us were naked, there was also a German Shepard involved a couple of times. I feel so dirty, filthy and ashamed. How could any normal human being even look at a used, dirty, ugly garbage heap like me. I was sexually, physically and mentally abused by my 2nd stepfather in combination with my mom's help. The beatings and starving sessions would bring them to the height of their sexuality. They always had sex after the sessions. This kind of behavior went on until I was 18 years old. By the time I was 19 I was kidnapped and gang
raped for 3 days. Almost died, and I wish I had. I feel so much
pain, hurt, emptiness inside until there is an echo when I speak.
My eyes cry for all the stories of others who were abused, for the
children who are abused every minute of everyday. I've always felt
that animals and children have no voices, they are at the hands of
their owners. We are possessions of them. Here is a poem I wrote
of BPD. It's a poem in a book of poems I titled, "Patches in
a Quilt of Pain".
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