The Empty Toolbox (NSFW)
The Empty Toolbox
You cannot be successful with an empty toolbox
All children need certain things to grow into successful, healthy, happy, competent, decent, and
responsible adults and citizens.
They need:
1) Tools for life
2) Clearly Defined Series Of Stages Of Development
3) Family Bonding and Cohesion.
4) Love, Nurturing, Protection
5) Food, Water, Clothes, Medical Care and a warm place to live
6) Enrichment Activities
I was given ONLY 1 of these...
The tools she failed to give me and the things she did in their absence have affected my whole
life and damaged me in ways that are too profound to explain.
This left me wide open for bad men, bad people, users and abusers to come in and take advantage of me and damage me further.
My whole life Ive been searching for love, even tho I didnt know what love was or felt like. And if you dont know what love feels like, you will guesstimate and fall victim to people who love bomb you to get you, then ignore and abuse you, once they do.
As I have always said, "If a newborn tree grows from the crack in the sidewalk in the inner city and dogs come and pee on it, it will be thankful for the hydration even though its pee."
----*----
Tools for Life
ALL of the top 6 Tools For Life my Mother failed to give me were all of the first ones every Mother I know teaches their kids immediately.
1) NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO PUT THEIR HANDS ON YOU,
2) NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO HIT YOU.
3) YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO STAND UP FOR YOURSELF.
4) IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TELL MOMMY AND SHE WILL TAKE CARE OF IT.
5) JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE SAID SOMETHING MEAN ABOUT YOU DOESNT MAKE IT TRUE. SOMETIMES PEOPLE SAY THINGS CAUSE THEY DONT LIKE THEMSELVES VERY MUCH AND SO THEY LASH OUT AT OTHERS, SOMETIMES IT HELPS TO HUMOR PEOPLE AND TO LAUGH AT YOURSELF TOO.
6) I ALWAYS AM HERE FOR YOU.
Lets get one big thing straight...I am NOT nor have I ever, in anyway, been a confrontational person, who wants to fight (I have become a fierce activist because of my childhood) I dont hit other people. Growing up in a house where there was tension and some sort of Domestic Violence going on, and I was always scared something bad was going to happen, I have ALWAYS avoided fighting and conflict like the plague!
I have NEVER started a fight in my life!
The reason I said all that was because for some reason, my Mother seemed to think that each and every time I came home crying, bloody nose, fat lip, pulled hair, skinned knee...from being beat up, bullied and threatened both at school, the neighborhood or from my own sister....That that was her cue to BLAME EVERYTHING FOREVER AND ALWAYS ALL ON ME!!!!!!!! Not once was there ever EVER any hugs, kisses, bandaid for my booboo, peptalk to me to stand up for myself, then going to the cops or to confront my batterers parents.
No standing up for ME! Her own child!
N-O-T-H-I-N-G! !!!!!!
N-E-V-E-R!!!!!!!!!!
E-V-E-R!!!!!!
All she ever did was BLAME THE ABUSE ALL ON ME!
"What did YOU do to them? You must have done SOMETHING! I know YOU Dru! You had to have
done something!"
Then that ever present look of disgust (or was it disappointment?) at me!
Narcissists always have the same responses. The same phrases, the same facial expressions when looking at you. They are all meant to mentally play games.
The first day of school after the divorce when we had moved to West Chester, I was sitting on the curb hugging my backpack, wearing a prairie dress, looking at the ground silent, when the other kids started picking on me, grabbing my backpack away from me and throwing it around and teasing me. On the bus the kids threw things at me and kicked my legs under the seat. In the afternoon after school they punched me and bloodied my nose. My mother blamed it all on me, and all beatings thereafter. To add insult to injury if it was my sister who beat me up, my Mother would always side with her,even though she always started the fights!
It was always "Dru! dont hurt Dana"
Never "Dana!! dont hurt Dru!"
For Example: I remember once when I was about 15, laying on the couch sick with the flu, woozy with a 103 fever, when the phone rang. My sister answered it and woke me up and ordered me to "GO GET MOTHER!"
My mother was 3 floors down in the basement looking thru the storage bin. I told her "No Im sick Im trying to sleep!" When she suddenly came over to me on the couch punched me in the mouth and pulled
my hair to "GET UP AND GET MOTHER!" ! I still refused and my sister ended up screaming down the stairwell for her and when I told my mother what had happened she DID NOTHING!
Dana was NEVER punished ever for beating me up.
I believe I was my moms punching bag By Proxy cause surely if she thought it was wrong shed have
stopped it.
RIGHT?
Do you know what it does to a child when their own Mother lets them get beat up repeatedly and DOES NOTHING, and BLAMES IT ALL ON THE CHILD? It makes the child feel as if they deserve getting bad treatment. It makes them feel as if they are just inherently bad and deserve to be treated like shit. It makes them feel as if there is no safe place to fall back on. THAT Somehow they MUST really be an awful kid to be getting beaten up. It destroys their self esteem. All humans have instincts of what is good and bad and when a child gets beaten up and hit by someone else for no reason but that they may not be the coolest kid or they are dorks etc THEY KNOW THAT IS WRONG, but when their own MOTHER tells them its ALL THEIR FAULT AND THEY MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING TO PROVOKE IT IT CRUSHES THEM. AND FUCKS WITH THEIR HEADS. So they start doubting their own instincts and judgment of what is bad and good, wrong or right.
Another Example:
When I was in school when I was 8, our class was saving up for a trip. One day the money was stolen out of the teachers desk. My teacher Ms Gardner one day confronted all of us students while we were sitting in our seats in the circle. One by one she went up to each of us in the circle and leaned over our desks and asked, "Did YOU take that money?" 1-2-3-ME. When she got to me I was so scared and I said, "Nooo, noo, I didn't take the money" She stared at me long and hard and said, "You took it didn't you?" I once again stated I hadn't. I started to cry and she grabbed me by my arm and pulled me down to the floor and yelled "My brother always cries when he's guilty too! Where is the money?!!!" I once again stated I hadn't taken it, and she punched me in my arm hard and demanded I give the money back...I think she realized what she was doing and suddenly stood up gained her composure and told me to go sit back in my
seat...Nothing was ever mentioned after it and we never went on the trip....When I went home I told my mother, she never did ANYTHING about it. Here a TEACHER entrusted with my care and life had PUNCHED and pushed her child onto the floor and SHE SAT SILENT AND ACTIONLESS!
I DID NOT TAKE THE DAMN MONEY!
Years later Ms Gardner asked my mother if she could come over for dinner cause she was finishing her college thesis in education and my mother allowed her to!!!!!! I would have told her to pound sand! Id have called the cops and a lawyer on her if shed have punched my child!
Not my Supermom Jackie!
Soooo that is what my Mother did TO ME!
She allowed her own child to get beaten up and bullied and did nothing to stop it. Basically
leaving me to my own devices and making me fend for myself.
When I was in school when I was 8, our class was saving up for a trip. One day the money was stolen out of the teachers desk. My teacher Ms Gardner one day confronted all of us students while we were sitting in our seats in the circle. One by one she went up to each of us in the circle and leaned over our desks and asked, "Did YOU take that money?" 1-2-3-ME. When she got to me I was so scared and I said, "Nooo, noo, I didn't take the money" She stared at me long and hard and said, "You took it didn't you?" I once again stated I hadn't. I started to cry and she grabbed me by my arm and pulled me down to the floor and yelled "My brother always cries when he's guilty too! Where is the money?!!!" I once again stated I hadn't taken it, and she punched me in my arm hard and demanded I give the money back...I think she realized what she was doing and suddenly stood up gained her composure and told me to go sit back in my
seat...Nothing was ever mentioned after it and we never went on the trip....When I went home I told my mother, she never did ANYTHING about it. Here a TEACHER entrusted with my care and life had PUNCHED and pushed her child onto the floor and SHE SAT SILENT AND ACTIONLESS!
I DID NOT TAKE THE DAMN MONEY!
Years later Ms Gardner asked my mother if she could come over for dinner cause she was finishing her college thesis in education and my mother allowed her to!!!!!! I would have told her to pound sand! Id have called the cops and a lawyer on her if shed have punched my child!
Not my Supermom Jackie!
Soooo that is what my Mother did TO ME!
She allowed her own child to get beaten up and bullied and did nothing to stop it. Basically
leaving me to my own devices and making me fend for myself.
PLUS, her constant accusations of doing things I didn't do, gave me a complex and maybe I seemed guilty because my mom had convinced me I was always guilty even tho I wasn't.
James Dean was sexually abused as a child. I wonder if that's why he's always had that tough look?
Bullying made me harden up! Like a street tough has that hard look to them and they act tough to make those who may do them harm think they are tough, but they really aren't. Its a protective measure to protect them from getting attacked.
Bullying made me harden up! Like a street tough has that hard look to them and they act tough to make those who may do them harm think they are tough, but they really aren't. Its a protective measure to protect them from getting attacked.
But deep inside I was a sweet loving marshmallow and no one was loving me.
*
As if getting beaten up around the neighborhood, and at home by my sister, and picked on at school and having my Mother do absolutely nothing wasn't enough, then came the incident that would fuck my life up completely and forever.
I had a hard time making friends as a kid, I still do, its hard to make friends when you:
1) Have domestic violence at home leading to embarrassment and being scared all the time leading to anxiety and bedwetting.
2) When you aren't getting any positive stimulation from anyone in your life.
3) When you get picked on.
4) When basically, before the divorce, you were a blob with no interests no nothing, cause your mother was too busy putting all her energies into her Golden Child daughter and not you.
So when you haven't made new friends yet in your new community and you aren't feeling loved, and your parents just split up and you just moved to a new town and new apartment and you are 11 yrs old and you are out on your balcony and a guy on the first floor balcony down below smiles and says "Hello!" and you chat a few minutes and then when he asks you to come downstairs you are naiive enough to think he actually wants to be your friend, but instead of wanting to be your friend and instead of going into his apartment he leads you into the laundry room and anally rapes you over the dryer using spit to lube you up, muffling your screams with one hand while his weight holds your bucking little body down onto the top of the dryer, his other hand reaching around to diddle your clit......
......and after its over he pulls up your pants and tells you not to tell anyone and leaves you there
.
I thought he just wanted to be my friend!
I remember very clearly after it happened that I had stopped eating. I didn't wanna eat, I think I just wanted to starve myself! I stopped eating for 10 days. Of course my mother wouldn't have noticed that I had stopped eating cause the Prize Winning Cook that she was had stopped cooking us meals after we moved to West Chester and we were left to fend for ourselves (I also have been doing my own laundry since I was 10) I then started dieting obsessively and taking water pills and drinking tons of caffeine and
smoking a pack a day to stave off the hunger. (It set a pattern of binging and starving I was to follow the next 33 years. I have never been able to eat properly since. It wrecked my body and damaged my metabolism and health. I was so confused with what was happening inside my body! I'd see him around the apartments and be scared and I'd run away! But several times he'd catch me and pull me into one of the laundry rooms and do it again.
Please Note: The rest of this chapter will be VERY controversial and might be triggering. But I think it's the reason women don't report their rapes and are confused by what happened to them.
Years ago when Oprah described her childhood rape on her show, she said it is very confusing to the child because parts might feel good but at the same time it hurts and is scary... That's why so many many children and rape victims are confused. I'd see him and be frightened and wanna cry and run, but I was excited too. I had completely stopped thinking of anything else at this time. I no longer had typical 11 yr old thoughts, I quit caring about school work, making friends, etc. I had grown up in 1 day. I also no longer wanted to be alone with male family members and my jeans or pants always had an odor of sex.
--------------------
My rapist intentionally rubbed my clitoris during the rape to make me compliant and confuse me.
But what is NOT innocent childhood sexual exploration is a 26 yr old Army Guy pulling an 11 yr old into the laundry room and forcing himself into her ass and making her bleed!
Rape and Sexual Arousal: Aphrodite Matsakis writes about sexual
arousal or orgasm in rape. Before you chastise yourself for one more
minute, remember that your sexual organs do not have a brain. They
cannot distinguish between a mauling rapist and the gentle touch of a
lover. They simply react to stimulation the way they were physically
designed to respond.If you climaxed or had some other sexual response to
the rape, this does not mean that you enjoyed it (1992, p.73).
----------------------------------------------
I hope what I say below helps other rape/molestation victims understand themselves better.
He would rape me in Laundry Rooms, always anal, always on the dryer, Empty unlocked apartments, hidden corner storage lockers, on his mothers bed, in front of his little brother Kyle, in the abandoned house in the woods (in front of the fireplace, in the bedroom over the dirty old metal spring mattress, in the crumbling 3 car garage, in the kitchen over the broken table that rocked and sounded like a dying animal so loud that he made me kneel on the broken glass on the kitchen floor, so people playing golf on the course next door wouldn't investigate)
He would rape me in Laundry Rooms, always anal, always on the dryer, Empty unlocked apartments, hidden corner storage lockers, on his mothers bed, in front of his little brother Kyle, in the abandoned house in the woods (in front of the fireplace, in the bedroom over the dirty old metal spring mattress, in the crumbling 3 car garage, in the kitchen over the broken table that rocked and sounded like a dying animal so loud that he made me kneel on the broken glass on the kitchen floor, so people playing golf on the course next door wouldn't investigate)
Me in the abandoned house in the woods
When I was about 13, I was home alone and there was a knock on the door and Billy's brother Kyle was standing there and he strolled on in and proceeded to vaginally have sex with me. Me and Kyle were the same age, so this wasn't statutory rape, but I still am unsure about what it was to this day. It wasn't consensual, but it was. One thing is for sure, there appeared to be some sort of agreement between Kyle and Billy, that Kyle was never allowed to do anything with me that Billy was doing. Billy never did anything with my vagina.
Because of my neglectful homelife, when I was about 13, I stopped running from Billy, and ran to him. Because he always rubbed my clit as he raped me, I was always aroused, the anal no longer hurt, and the fucked up thing about this type of thing is that when Billy did what he did, I at least wasn't thinking of my homelife. So I started using Billy and what we did to numb out and forget what horrible homelife I was having.
I always refer to my type of experience as
"Complex Childhood Sexual Assault"
Because it has so many layers of abuse, mind control and brainwashing.
I know I went downstairs that day when I was an 11 yr old virgin, to make a friend. I can look back and see that I had no sexual thoughts about this man when I talked to him on the patio.
However I struggled with what happened to me for years because:
1) I thought I had caused it, because I was already kinda sexual at that time.
2) Him rubbing my clit felt good
This is why I think I didn't tell anyone at school. Cause I didn't wanna get in anymore trouble at home. I couldn't trust anyone. And I didn't know if I caused it.
One day I didn't see Billy anymore and Kyle was also MIA. It had ended when I was around 16.
I know I went downstairs that day when I was an 11 yr old virgin, to make a friend. I can look back and see that I had no sexual thoughts about this man when I talked to him on the patio.
However I struggled with what happened to me for years because:
1) I thought I had caused it, because I was already kinda sexual at that time.
2) Him rubbing my clit felt good
This is why I think I didn't tell anyone at school. Cause I didn't wanna get in anymore trouble at home. I couldn't trust anyone. And I didn't know if I caused it.
One day I didn't see Billy anymore and Kyle was also MIA. It had ended when I was around 16.
And I went on with my life...
Years later, in the late 80s, when my sister committed suicide, I ran to Kyle for comfort. I brought him upstairs when the police were at the apartment, and I hugged him and kissed his neck. Days later, Kyle told me that Billy had shot himself to death in the woods in South Carolina several years ago (around my 16th year of life) We now had something in common, our siblings had killed themselves.
So Billy killed himself and I struggle with that. To this day.
Years later, in the late 80s, when my sister committed suicide, I ran to Kyle for comfort. I brought him upstairs when the police were at the apartment, and I hugged him and kissed his neck. Days later, Kyle told me that Billy had shot himself to death in the woods in South Carolina several years ago (around my 16th year of life) We now had something in common, our siblings had killed themselves.
So Billy killed himself and I struggle with that. To this day.
For 45 years I still cant figure out how I feel about that.
So I have Stockholm Syndrome.
A lot of men's cologne has citrus notes. Billy was fond of citrusy cologne. So the smell of grapefruit, Tide laundry detergent and men's body odor trigger me. I cannot ever use TIDE washing soap....I know I did nothing wrong, I know I did not cause my rape, I know my mind and emotions dealt with it the best it could, with the horrible Mother I had.
A lot of men's cologne has citrus notes. Billy was fond of citrusy cologne. So the smell of grapefruit, Tide laundry detergent and men's body odor trigger me. I cannot ever use TIDE washing soap....I know I did nothing wrong, I know I did not cause my rape, I know my mind and emotions dealt with it the best it could, with the horrible Mother I had.
BUT, I also forgive myself for the way my mind dealt with it and put the hate squarely where it belongs
ON MY ABUSIVE MOTHER.
Rapists are gonna rape.
But the reason I was a rape victim was because I was already a VICTIM at home, so remember what I said earlier about baby trees being pissed on by dogs....
The last 2 therapists told me they don't recommend trying to fix the Stockholm Syndrome.
Its a quiet wound that's not infected or inflamed right now.
No need to cut it open, poke around and suture it closed.
Leave it be...
Kyle would ask me to come hang out with him after my sisters suicide
Kyle would ask me to come hang out with him after my sisters suicide
He was also now an only child. But I was 20 by that time and I couldn't do it. My 20 yr old brain was aligning thoughts and emotions and I was starting to figure a few things out and I no longer felt being around Kyle was good for me...Kyle sent flowers and a card after my sisters suicide, If that ain't a mindfuck what is? Kyle and his mom moved back to South Carolina and about 10 yrs ago I looked him up and he had a rap sheet and mug shots.
Over the years I've seen things that I didn't see at that time and
I think Billy and Kyle were BOTH being sexually abused by their mother and it spread to me.
Anyway, back to the story..........1978
My mother had failed me so many times, in so many ways. She blamed me for being bullied and beaten up, blamed my tomboy personality for everything. She never protected me or comforted me and gave me a shoulder to cry on....
I had stopped telling her anything and stopped crying.
By then what was the point of telling my mother anything? She would have blamed it all on me
and done NOTHING!
Who would have believed me if I had told?
But one day about 4-6 months after it had started Me and my mother were sitting in the living
room watching TV and there was something on about sex assault and I just blurted out, "that's what
happened to me" and all she said was "You mean a man put his penis inside you?"
By then what was the point of telling my mother anything? She would have blamed it all on me
and done NOTHING!
Who would have believed me if I had told?
But one day about 4-6 months after it had started Me and my mother were sitting in the living
room watching TV and there was something on about sex assault and I just blurted out, "that's what
happened to me" and all she said was "You mean a man put his penis inside you?"
I said "Yes"
Here was a PIVOTAL MOMENT for my Mother...
What would she do?
Here her now 12 year old daughter just told her that when she was 11, some man had "put his
penis inside her" Would she stand up with guns blaring like ANY NORMAL CARING LOVING
MOTHER and be SHOCKED AND OUTRAGED THAT SOMEONE HARMED HER BABY?
Would she call the cops? Hug me tight and tell me it wasn't my fault and get me into therapy?
no...
She sat there, and thought for a second and turned to continue watching TV.
Leaving me to once again to fend for myself...
Because of my mothers inaction after my rape, my life has been out of control ever since.
Years later when I confronted my Mother about this in my Therapist's office, she inferred that I
was lying, "Oh come on! I never remember you running away screaming or anything!"
I was 11 yrs old here, do I look like I'm asking for anal rape in a cold dark laundry room? In my mother's
eyes with her ignoring it, she must have thought so...
I was so innocent and naiive that I actually was scared that I was pregnant!
OY!
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The statistics are shocking
* 1 in 4 girls is sexually abused before the age of 18. (96)
* 1 in 6 boys is sexually abused before the age of 18. (96)
* 1 in 5 children are solicited sexually while on the internet. (30, 87)
* Nearly 70% of all reported sexual assaults (including assaults on adults) occur to children ages
17 and under. (76)
* An estimated 39 million survivors of childhood sexual abuse exist in America today. (1)
Most children don't tell even if they have been asked
* Evidence that a child has been sexually abused is not always obvious, and many children do
not report that they have been abused.
• Over 30% of victims never disclose the experience to ANYONE.
•
* Young victims may not recognize their victimization as sexual abuse.
* Almost 80% initially deny abuse or are tentative in disclosing. Of those who do disclose,
approximately 75% disclose accidentally. Additionally, of those who do disclose, more than 20%
eventually recant even though the abuse occurred.
Health and/or Behavioral Problems:
* The way a victim's family responds to abuse plays an important role in how the incident
affects the victim.
* Sexually abused children who keep it a secret or who "tell" and are not believed are at greater
risk than the general population for psychological, emotional, social, and physical problems
often lasting into adulthood.
* Children who have been victims of sexual abuse are more likely to experience physical health
problems (e.g., headaches).
* Victims of child sexual abuse report more symptoms of PTSD, more sadness, and more school
problems than non-victims. (10, 16, 55, 72)
* Victims of child sexual abuse are more likely to experience major depressive disorder as adults.
(55, 72)
* Young girls who are sexually abused are more likely to develop eating disorders as
adolescents. (16, 40, 89)
* Adolescent victims of violent crime have difficulty in the transition to adulthood, are more
likely to suffer financial failure and physical injury, and are at risk to fail in other areas due to
problem behaviors and outcomes of the victimization.
Teenage Pregnancy and Promiscuity:
* Children who have been victims of sexual abuse exhibit long-term and more frequent
behavioral problems, particularly inappropriate sexual behaviors.
* Women who report childhood rape are 3 times more likely to become pregnant before age 18.
* An estimated 60% of teen first pregnancies are preceded by experiences of molestation, rape,
or attempted rape. The average age of their offenders is 27 years.
* Victims of child sexual abuse are more likely to be sexually promiscuous. (39, 59, 60, 70)
* More than 75% of teenage prostitutes have been sexually abused.
(http://www.darkness2light.org/knowabout/statistics_2.asp)
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The SYMPTOMS WERE OBVIOUS!
Why wasn't my "SuperMom" paying attention?
I was a High-T Girl who needed Protection To Navigate Life
*
So, do you know what happens to a young girl whose introduction to sex is VIOLENT ANAL
RAPE IN A DARK LAUNDRY ROOM, when no one gets her help or therapy to deal with it or stops
it?
*
So, do you know what happens to a young girl whose introduction to sex is VIOLENT ANAL
RAPE IN A DARK LAUNDRY ROOM, when no one gets her help or therapy to deal with it or stops
it?
I'll let you all in....
As she grows up
She becomes promiscuous offering herself up as soon as she meets a guy, because she was
NEVER EVER TAUGHT ANY DIFFERENTLY.
It stunts her relationship with males so that she doesn't know how to have normal healthy
relationships.
It makes sex a priority and not normal childhood development and activities.
Parts of her die inside
............................
Note #2:
I know I said in a previous chapter that I believe I was born a submissive. So I'm sure you are asking if that is true then why do I say what I said in the above paragraph.
I believe that most women that are in abusive controlling relationships have submissive (not necessarily meaning BDSM, just plain submissiveness) personalities and fall prey to faux alpha male men who want to abuse women and not cherish and protect their submissive side.
They meet men who have that toxic masculinity and fake Dominant personality and they end up using the naturally submissive woman as a doormat and totally ignoring her needs and she ends up a shell of a human being.
That ended up being me, not because of my rape, but because of my Mothers inaction and teaching me NOTHING about love, relationships, or to stand up for myself.
-----------------
Getting back to the story, yes, it gets worse folks:
The second time it happened he stopped me in the hallway and pulled me into the laundry room
again.
"Hey Hey, don't go no where! Get down here!" and grabbed my wrist. He did the same exact thing as last time but when he was done he told me not to move and held his limping penis in my ass for a few minutes and I felt like something warm was filling me. Then he pulled out slowly and told me, "There, don't let it come out until you get upstairs!"
He had peed inside of me.
I Repeat
He had used an 11 year old girl as a toilet.
Thinking about it today my knees and legs go weak and I feel like I cant move. I think the fact that he diddled me every time he raped me is what confused me and confused my body. Here the diddling felt good, but the anal rape hurt and he scared me. Had I gotten into therapy at that time and was helped to understand the difference between the 3 distinct feelings I was going thru, pain, fear and pleasure, and gotten them separated.... maybe they would have not become permanently intertwined in my adulthood, and become the intoxicating perfume I followed down the trail into abusive sex in the future.
------*-------
When I was 14 or 15 my mom won a cooking contest and was in the local papers and Billy saw it and he (finally) found out my name and could look me up in Directory Assistance.
A week later Billy called my house and hung up if my mom or Dana answered, but if I answered he'd tell me "Get down here"
and I'd go.....
-----*-----
The rape stopped when I was 16 and 31 year old Army Man Billy killed himself and I never
saw him again.
But the damage had been done
And by the time I was 16 I had psychologically numbed myself into romanticizing it to better deal
with it emotionally. And since I wasn't getting any attention from my mother or sister and I wasn't allowed to love my father and I hadn't made friends in the new neighborhood yet, It became the big way for me to get attention. To be sexy and act out. Starving, Gorging and now Sex became coping mechanisms to deal with being unloved and ignored in my home.
The more debased, painfilled and used a guy could make me feel and abuse me and hurt me while fucking me the better. If a guy could get in my head and talk dirty in a cerebrally eloquent fashion, and could make my heart race and break out in a cold sweat and make the tears flow and make my pussy wet, I would become addicted.
The farther in my head I could go, away from that cold fake bitch I was living with the better.
----*----
I think now about my moms inaction and I wonder if he was doing this to other little girls wherever the army sent him.
-----*-----
My mothers Empty Toolbox, even affected GOOD relationships in my life...
The end of my 14 yr old school year a girl was transferred to my school and attended the last
semester. Tina.
I was instantly drawn to her.
The purple jumpsuit, the way she stood, the way she was feathering her hair back with that ever
present comb in her back pocket.
Hey! It was the 1980's! That was the style! LOL
That summer she called my house. How did she get my phone number? I didn't know she knew I
existed... I never found out.
We became fast inseparable friends, She and I had that connection like we could seriously get in
some big trouble with our minds (does that make sense?) like Thelma and Louise! She was at my
house every weekend.. At that time I was still being abused by Billy from time to time, but I also
had a school bf, J.P. (dumb as a box of datgum rocks) and now I was falling in love with my best
friend and I desperately wanted to touch her.
I kept my secret from her for months.
Then she overheard me telling JP I thought I was in love with her.
After the secret was out, she didn't seem to care.
One day when we were stupidly sniffing White Out to get high, and we were laughing and
goofing off in my bed, my hand justlikethat darted in her pants and she did not stop me. She had
the worlds perfectly shaped breasts, she tasted like the word "WARMTH" embodied.
I can still see her face that day.
I still love her.
It was a short but volatile 3 years we were friends.
We would still be friends and maybe still lovers if it wasn't for my deep insecurity at the time and the fact that my Mother taught me I was "hard to love" and wasn't worth anything. Add to that the fact that my snobby sister would say I was fat and ugly and I had body issues as well
When Id have sex with her, she'd want to touch me, she'd want to love me too, but I had such poor ME issues and I respected her so much and was so deeply in love and obsessed with her and I thought that she was just wanting to have sex with me out of obligation, so I'd turn her down and I'd only wanna please HER.
I ended up sabotaging the entire friendship over my insecurities and I haven't seen her since I was a teenager.
:::::::::Long, Deep Sigh:::::::::
----*----
As was the case with MOST parts of life, with the exception of teaching us how to cook when we were young, we were like dolls to my Mother, my mother never sat me down to talk about sex, or love or respect or virginity, or even the female menstrual period (which I got the October after my 12th birthday at my fathers house, on a Sunday after 10pm when everything was closed and Daddy drove up to my Uncles restaurant and stole a box of pads from one of the bathrooms and came home, LOL) I was left unprepared for EVERYTHING. I honestly thought that that was how you got boys. Have sex with them! And my mother told me no different.
Years later I'd hear stories from my Father about how my mom had an IUD when they got married cause she was sleeping with her first boss A Politician From Chester, Pa, who was a married man. All of my mothers boyfriends have been married men ... My sister Janet even told me that my mother had slept with our family psychologist, Dr Gus, that me and Dana went to after the divorce. He was Married too. I cant even fathom WHEN she had the affair...All I know is we were seeing him and then we weren't and no explanation was given.
Once I saw him a few yrs after that at my uncles restaurant and I said "Hi Dr Gus! Remember me?" He went pale white and got away from me as fast as he could. (Making me feel like a leper)
Then of course she's been having an affair with her boss/ex boss Bob now for 30+ years! I guess since SHE is a slut, she thought I wanted sex at age 11 and was A-Okay with it. Either that or she just didn't give a shit about me. Because of HER neglect and inaction my innocence and rights to a loving healthy normal marriage or relationship were forever stolen from me.
I used to tell guys "I don't wanna make love! I wanna have sex, or I wanna fuck"!
I never understood making love! I never had it!
I didn't understand intimacy, loving caresses, gentleness, tenderness, or someone loving you
and caring about you...
Or
LOVE!
LOVE!
No special "first time" no holding hands walking around the park, no romantic evenings, no romantic dinners, no loving tender caresses....All stolen from me. All rights taken away. By my own mothers inaction and scanty education.
If my Mother would have sat me down and told me, "Dru? what happened to you when you were 11, isn't the way sex or relationships are supposed to be. You have the right to a rich colorful loving, caring sexlife, But you don't share that part of you with everyone. Only people who are worthy of that part of you.
You need to find a guy (or girl) who loves you, respects you and cares about you."
If she had said that, I would have listened.
After all. I'm a rule follower, I LOVE following rules, I love learning!
And I am a submissive, I love being told what to do.
But no one was saying that to me at all
It would have taken her 5 minutes to fix the wrong, but instead it took me 23 years to fill up my own toolbox and figure it out for myself...
Please Note:
Even tho I developed Stockholm Syndrome about Billy, It does not mean that I forgive him or wouldn't put him in jail if he hadn't have killed himself. He belongs in Jail.
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