Living After Abuse
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Ed's Story
This is my story/nightmare: My name is Eddie, I’m 28 years old. Dad and Mom were married 3
years before I was born, with one brother before me. My father was a drug addict and was
abusive. He would beat my mother on a continual basis. Their marriage ended 6 months after my
birth only after my mother caught him trying to get me high by blowing smoke through a tube
into my mouth. I didn't meet up with him again until I was 7.
After Dad, my mom had a boyfriend in which she had a daughter by. Their relationship didn't last,
and mom moved on to another boyfriend named Bob. They eventually got married and that is
when my abuse started. He was not nice at all! Bob liked to beat and torture my brother and
I. He would use racket ball paddles, which he had two of (the ones with the holes in them); my name
was on one of them and my brothers name on the other. I was only 3 or 4 when I received my first
beating for something like spilling my drink onto the floor. He would take my brother and I up to our
rooms to beat us and would say, “Pull down your pants and grab your ankles” and then would beat
our bare butts. I used to scream and pull my mothers hair when he would try to take me away from
her to give me a beating. She told me that she never knew. I think he may have been beating her
too!
Around that same time, my mom had taken my sister and I to a babysitter who was a boy. This was
my not only my first sexual molestation, but also my sisters. My baby sister was only 1 year old at
that time. He never penetrated my sister, but he made me watch him as he touched her privates.
While he was doing that, he made me do the unspeakable to him. I never told because I was afraid
Bob would blame me and beat me for it. My brother and my beatings continued from Bob until mom
and he were divorced.
We lived with my Grandma and Grandpa then and sometimes stayed with my Aunt Rhonnie. Life
wasn’t bad then. Once in awhile, I would get into trouble from my Uncle as my cousin and I were
being too loud or we picked on the girls. My Aunts house was one of my favorite places to go to
when I was a kid. I felt safe there.
Mom remarried and my new step-dad was a drunk and he and mom fought and yelled a lot. My dad
re-entered my life at that time to see my brother and I. Dad had also re-married and was still dealing
and using drugs and "still" very abusive. I saw my dad shoot a black man in the back for walking
through his yard. My stepmother didn’t like my brother or me and would spank us with wooden
spoons, belts, etc. Dad would use whatever was handy, like belts, boards and wires. All I saw when I
was with my dad the one month out of every summer was sex, drugs, and violence, physical and
mental abuse. That is what I had to deal with.
We moved to a little town an hour or so away from dad. While we were living in that town, I had a
friend. My friends dad started touching and molesting me. I didn’t say anything because I was told
that nobody would believe me and he would hurt my mom. I couldn’t let anything happen to my
mom. I was stuck until we moved away from there and I never had to see that man again.
Life went smoothly for a while. My step-dad was still drinking and mom was still yelling and fighting
with him about it.
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