a harley and a dog tag

Today has been as unproductive as they come. I read a few diary entries this morning, wrote about my dog Molly, and then went into the bedroom to watch Fox News.

I fell asleep about 4:00, and around an hour later, my son told me that my brother and his friend were here.

I love my little brother, but he has interaction with my mother, and he is still loyal to his father (the one that abused me). I’m surprised we have any relationship at all, because he reminds me soooooo much of my step-father, and I don’t think he believes me about the abuse. Also, we disagree on anything and everything that has to do with my mother.

I guess that I might just be jealous of his relationship with Mom. I have a little sister that is mentally incapicitated, and my mother will not let me talk to or see her (my sister). But D (my brother), can visit and talk to them on the phone. I also have another little sister DM, and she refuses to talk to me.

Now, are you asking yourself what I did to deserve all of this non-communication?

Here’s what I did. I was sexually abused by my step-father from the time that I was 10 until the time that I was 18. When I was 12, I told my mother about it, and she promised me that it would never happen again. Bull shit. My mother became a part of the abuse and she was the one who MADE me continue.

Now she tells everybody in the family that I was not abused, that I had an affair with my step-father. She says that she tried to stop it, but that I was a slut and wouldn’t stop.

When I was sixteen, I had a boyfriend (who is now my husband). One night we were making out in his car, and I guess that I had a flashback, because he says that I was screaming and crying and holding my stomach, and wouldn’t let him touch me. He and I had NEVER had sex, and he totally freaked out. He called my mother and told her that he was taking me to the hospital.

Mom just HAD to be there. You might think that she was trying to be supportive, but what she really wanted was to have her nose into everything that happened and was said.

The doctor that examined me told Mom that I had been raped (keep in mind that boyfriend and I had never slept together, and I hadn’t had any other boyfriends with which to sleep with), and he (the doctor) called the police. My mother let my poor boyfriend take that rap, but nothing ever came of it.

In the end, she made me break-up with him, and tear up all of his pictures.

But, shit on her, we are together anyway.