Victims Anonymous

I have spent my whole life trying to avoid being dubbed a victim.

I avoided speaking about my issues in order to not be thought of as a dramatic crybaby. Yet I am here, crying over something a teenager said to me online regarding my recent openness.

But this is exactly why I need to speak out, even though public opinion will only worsen as a result.

For starters, the only people who have benefitted from my silence are my abusers. They have used my fear and shame to control me, and they have enjoyed a lot of freedom as a result.

So, I am here today to announce:

I AM A VICTIM.

I am a victim of 40 years of abuse.

-My mother neglected and abused me horribly. I had to not only care for myself at a young age (like changing my own diaper), but make sure my mother and sisters were cared for too. My mom made me her comfort blanket, and used me whenever and however she needed.

-My step mother did the same, but in a very different way from my mother. She was violent and cruel. She made sure I knew I was nothing.

- Society treated me terribly when I was the most vulnerable. I needed help, and they threw literal garbage on me. They took everything they could from me, because I was worse than the trash they threw.

-Religion let me down when I begged for help. I tried to tell priests and elders of my abuse, and they did nothing.

-Counselors let me down by not listening to me. My first counselors actually assisted my step mother in abusing me.

-Doctors failed to treat me, first because I was a "hypochondriac child", then I was "just looking for drugs", finally because I was just fat. They have dismissed my degrading physical condition for 30 years.

-I was hurt a great deal by strangers who preyed on young people in the rock bottom arena. They used my body and tore apart my mind in the process. They tried their best to keep me drugged and pliable.

- I was hurt by the man who said he loved me, but then left me alone to raise a child with no resources. He just "wasn't ready" to be a dad, and was busy with his child bride. His mother tried to groom my daughter to be sexually assaulted (why else would you put a 2 year old in a tight lacy bra? Why do they even MAKE those!?), but I wouldn't allow her access to my daughter. No one helped me, they only tried to prey on my daughter and I while I was weak. I could trust no one. I worked so hard for us: school, full time work, bearing the brunt of the relationship, giving him what he needs, caring for his nephew, doing all the chores for us. He sat around and played games. He gave me nothing but a pile of bills and a lifetime of loneliness and stress. It broke me.

- I was taken advantage of by long term friends who dropped me the second they squeezed all they could out of me. They helped protect my abusers, and did their best to sabotage any future plans.

-I am the unwilling sacrifice of my sisters. While I was homeless and starving they did absolutely nothing to help me. They have never mentioned their dismissal of me when I needed them the most, but neither have I. I couldn't bear the indifference of their responses, not yet anyway. I have apologized to them dozens of times for not caring for them well enough, and have spent my whole adult life trying to love and cherish them. I have worked hard to understand their pain and give them what they need. I have done so much for them but it seems they don't care. Maybe that's not fair, but our lives haven't been fair. My younger sister and I are making amends, but my older sister is only interested in being cruel. Lori and mom are to blame for all of this-I cannot really blame my sisters.. we three deserved better.

-I have been the prey of my brothers, both directly and passively. I tried to love them, but they used me up, then spit me out. They took all my father's money, then abandoned him too. They are cruel and spiteful as their mother.

-I was expected to be grateful that the father of my second child did not hit me before he left me alone to raise our child. He hurt me, and is responsible for the first greatest loss of my life.

-I was given no choice but to give up my second child, and feel as though there should have been an option for me to keep him AND feed him AND keep him safe from his abusive drug addict father.

-I was abandoned by my friends, thanks to the lies of baby-daddy #1. He told everyone I wouldn't let him see his daughter, instead of the truth- that he wasn't interested. I was so lonely for so long.

-I was let down by society and economy, who didn't think I was worth the effort. I was given no chance to prove myself in the work place, and the jobs I was able to get used me as free labor and a scapegoat when things went wrong.

-I was hurt by the educational system. Despite the fact that I received excellent grades (while being a single mother and employed part time-no easy feat!), passed every test, and was highly recommended by all but one supervising teacher- I was denied my degree. Sorry for the run on sentence...

-I was treated poorly by my own child, who weaponized my PTSD triggers in order to control me, instead of avoiding them.

-I am a victim of my own poor choices and twisted understanding of the word.

All these things and people hurt me. I am a victim of their indifference, selfishness, and anger. I realize it had more to do with them than me. I even understand some of them, like my sisters. It doesn't make it hurt any less.

I am a casualty of the seven deadly sins, as personified by the people in my life as well as my own struggle with them personally.

I have kept silent about most of this, and not only due to my fear of bein a victim. I did not want to hurt anyone, even if they hurt me. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, after all.

Sure, I have made the best of it. As an adult, I am ultimately responsible for how I respond to the terrible things that have happened to me. I refuse to be a victim of my own victimhood. I refuse to wallow in victim-mentality.

I AM STILL A VICTIM.

My shame and avoidance has only made my victimizers stronger, and allowed them to hurt others. It has allowed them to control me after the fact. Why should I continue to hide the injuries I have received from everyone around me?

Sure, I have not had it as bad as some. I have not wanted to complain out of respect for people who have been tortured or killed due to pain I could only imagine...but this does not make my story any less painful. It is not a contest. Everything is relative. Don't I say this to all the young people I have helped over the years?

My ability to handle all this pain doesn't mean it hurts me any less either.