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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