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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Adhdferret" data-source="post: 4104566" data-attributes="member: 48008">I make it a point to tell my stories of childhood as often as I can, it is important for us "survivors" of childhood abuse and neglect to remind everyone this happens. I can tell you more, if you want, but I will tell you my last time I was beaten, it was a typical Saturday morning like any other.My half brother was jacking with me, I was trying to watch M.A.S.K. I think? Loved the iroc. He kept throwing captain crunch at me. I had enough. So I pined him and I tapped him repeatedly on the forehead. He hated that, naturally he screamed. Mommy dearest came in the room and he said I was killing him, step dad saw me. He grabbed my by my neck, and tossed me into the wall, luckily I went between the studs, I remember it vividly because of that sound those old panel walls trailer houses had when they break to this day.I was done with it, I was tired of being a victim. I wanted it to end, that was the first time, and the only time I was ready to die.The pain, the neglect, the suffering I was done with it, and I looked at him, he saw it and he was happy to oblige. Put me across his lap and I remember the first two smacks felt like fire, not sure where they were, but he hit me 17 times with a belt buckle from the base of my neck, down to the back of my knees. I remember looking at the wall outlet, and ready for it to end. Hoping it would, and then the world started to shake. I got scared, so scared because I couldn't stop shaking. I went into grandmal sezuires I was told later as a teenager. He tossed me out the window like trash, I dont know how long I was out there in the dust. An auntie found me, state got an emergency order of custody and I was there in the care of the state for almost a year. I had to learn to talk again, I had a severe lisp, learn to walk again,  and still can't close my eyes and tilt my head back or I fall down. I was 5. It is why I know how these kids around me feel, I know neglect,  I know all I wanted was someone to listen,  just ask me what was wrong. I would have told anyone that wanted to hear me, but it was the 80s and no one cared about a rez kid. I went to my dad, he was there every day for that year waiting for me. Every day after work he would go there till 9pm and wait. When the hearing came, my mother showed up spun out on coke, the judge asked me where I wanted to go, I told him where I dont get hit,  where I don't hurt...with my daddy.He asked me, if I send you with your mom what will you do? I sat there and I said I will use my daddy's tractor and smash your desk. Mommy dearest said she didn't want me, I was useless....she never paid a dime of child support as she was ordered. Step-dad is long gone, cops got him, mom recently died. I was told by my half brother the one throwing cereal at me that after they pronounced her dead they left her in the yard. I found out she passed by a high school reunion page my dad was part of, 3 days after the fact. I still haven't cried.</blockquote>

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