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Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
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Yesterday my husband was playing with our daughter and tickling her, which she loves. At one point she said no stop, and he did. I was sitting next to them, but then all of a sudden hearing her words a flashback hit me and my mind was immediately back in my childhood home reliving a horrible memory. I remembered another incident of my uncle hurting me when I was five, the same age my daughter is now.
Once again I was in my bedroom alone with him. He had made me undress and bend over, and was pushing his finger in my backside. I remember it hurt alot, and pleading with him to stop. In the memory it was like I could hear my own small voice so perfectly as I begged him, and the horrible gutteral sound of his voice as he told me to be a good girl, a better girl than my sister was. Then he proceeded to rape me.
Afterwards as usual, he told me how bad I was, reminding me again that if I told anyone they would never believe me and would hate me. He took such pleasure in telling me how awful I was, and how no one would ever love me if they found out what I had done with him. When he left I ran downstairs and hid in one of the small closets where I thought he wouldn't find me.
Then I was back in the present moment, watching my husband and daughter play happily together. I had to leave the room so they wouldn't see me cry.
When I have memories of myself so young being abused by that disgusting man, it makes me so sad. I want to comfort that little girl, and protect her since no one else ever did. God only knows how many innocent children he has brutalized. I hope he burns in Hell.
Once again I was in my bedroom alone with him. He had made me undress and bend over, and was pushing his finger in my backside. I remember it hurt alot, and pleading with him to stop. In the memory it was like I could hear my own small voice so perfectly as I begged him, and the horrible gutteral sound of his voice as he told me to be a good girl, a better girl than my sister was. Then he proceeded to rape me.
Afterwards as usual, he told me how bad I was, reminding me again that if I told anyone they would never believe me and would hate me. He took such pleasure in telling me how awful I was, and how no one would ever love me if they found out what I had done with him. When he left I ran downstairs and hid in one of the small closets where I thought he wouldn't find me.
Then I was back in the present moment, watching my husband and daughter play happily together. I had to leave the room so they wouldn't see me cry.
When I have memories of myself so young being abused by that disgusting man, it makes me so sad. I want to comfort that little girl, and protect her since no one else ever did. God only knows how many innocent children he has brutalized. I hope he burns in Hell.
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