Everything in my life seemed to be pretty good until I was 9, which is when my things started to happen to me. I never really knew I had a mom until I was 8; I've always lived with my grandparents and my sister. But then I met her; she was the nicest person I'll ever know when she wasn't on drugs. Then she died from a meth overdose when I was 9. All I've ever really wanted was a parent, but she died and I've never really had a dad because she was sleeping around when she got pregnant with me. About a year after she died, my sister moved out. She was the one person I could talk to, but now I hardly even know her, after she moved out my grandpa started to take all his anger out on me because she wasn't there for him to yell at, so he started to hit me and yell at me. I've been trying to get out of here, and just get away from him because I can't deal with him, but I have nowhere to go, no escape. About a year ago I was at a football game and I just wanted to be alone so I snuck out and walked around, then I got raped, same thing happened when I ran away on New Years. I've been through a lot and I'm really depressed, but I've gotten so good at bottling it up and just acting happy, its really hard because I just want to talk to someone and let it all out, but its so hard for me to trust anyone anymore. Wow, I really need some help or just someone to talk to or be there for me, but it seems like thatís just too much to ask. I'm only 13 and I have no parents and no one I can trust, and thatís pretty messed up.
by Alysiaon 22 Oct 2005
I was born on the 23rd January 1968.
In 1977 at the age of nine years old I was taken into the care of the local authority by the then, Sunderland Borough Council's, Social Services Department.
As a child I was considered to be a 'problem child' and I lived with my mother who was a single parent. During my early years my behavior was such that my mother enlisted the support of Sunderland Social Services, and together, they decided that the care home system was the only way to control me. I understand that the reason I was taken into care was due to the fact that I had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).
On or about 25 January 1977 I was placed in a local authority assessment center and I remained there for one a half years. Between 18 July 1977and 26 August 1977 I was placed in a children's' home in Northumberland. I was returned to the assessment home between 26 August 1977 and 16 February 1978 before being transferred to another home in Sunderland, until September 1978, when again I was moved back to the assessment home. On 8 January 1979 I was moved to a very notorious home and I left care completely shortly before my 16th birthday.
Stannington Grove Hospital
Before I was subjected to a care order, at the age of six I was admitted to Stannington Grove Hospital. I recall on a daily basis having been subjected to abuse. I was frequently being punched and hit by other children. The staff chose to do nothing about it.
Emsworth House Assessment Centre
When I first entered Emsworth House I was eight years old. I recall clearly, being taken to a side room with my mother. I ran away from the home shortly after admission and the only reason was simply to be with my mam. My punishment for running away was to regarded as a runaway risk and I was therefore treated like a prisoner.
The secure unit was like a cell. I remember that there were no light switches or door handles on the inside of the room and there was one plastic light fitting in the centre of the ceiling. In the door to the room there was a single square window which looked out onto the hall outside. The glass of course was reinforced. The bed was a rudimentary block with a mattress sat on it. The mattress and the pillows all had plastic covers on and there was no real bedding to speak of. Anyway I had to be content with my surroundings as I was required to spend seventeen hours in the secure unit each day. I have horrible memories of long nights spent in that room and it would true to say that suicide crossed my mind on many occasions. I stole a knife from the class room, during the day, to cut my wrists. I hid it under the mattress. I never did go through with it
I was allowed out of the secure unit during the day to attend a class room. I have distinct memories of an old lady who clearly liked her job., who used to teach in the class. She regularly placed drawing pins on my chair and forced me to sit on them. She was also very fond of the ruler as a means of corporal punishment and she would often strike my knuckles with it.
Another feature of class was the dunce hat, it was a conical hat, like you see in the cartoons. We would be made to wear this hat at times when we were considered to have done something wrong or stupid. My education was not furthered because of any of my time spent in that class room.
In the secure unit I would be forced to go without clothes and had to go for periods of time, naked. Not only was this very cold but it was also degrading for an eight year old boy.
Night times were especially bad at Emsworth. I recall one male worker who would visit my room on a night and stand outside of my room looking through the glass at me. He would then switch the light on quickly for five to twenty minutes. This used to be make me very scared. I can see no other reason why he would do this at all, other than to make me frightened.
The same member of staff also abused me sexually. He had previously been a priest. He used to fondle my genitals and he would pull my pajama bottoms down. At the time my hair was like Michael Jackson's and my pajama top had a picture of Michael Jackson on it. This man made me masturbate him. He also raped me which caused me intense pain. To this day it is extremely traumatic to talk about the sexual abuse I was subjected to.
Witherwack House the Most Notorious
On 8 January 1979 I was transferred to Witherwack House, it was a couple of weeks before my eleventh birthday. As far as I know I was the very first resident in the home after it opened and I remained there until 1984. This was to be the worst five years of my live.
Almost immediately after moving to Witherwack House I was subjected to constant physical and psychological abuse by members of staff and 'care' workers.
I was constantly picked on by members of staff who dragged me around by my neck; punched me, gave me black eyes and a broken nose. I was also forced into a bath of hot water and then cold water.
When I was alone the staff beat me, punching me repeatedly with both fists in the stomach and my head, causing great pain. During one such instance I screamed and cried for them to stop but they just kept on beating me. I begged them and still it went on.
I was also sexually assaulted by a male member of staff who later became involved with child protection. He informed me that he would single me out for punishment
The forms of punishment employed by the staff at Witherwack House included restraint techniques. On one occasion my arm was held up my back so badly my shoulder blade needed medical treatment. My thumb would be bent backwards. until it touched my forearm. This was done at least daily and was extremely painful. I suffer from epilepsy and I believe this was caused by my head being hit of objects. This was not reasonable punishment and force being used - this was evil. I often heard screams of other residents being abused. Indeed I witnessed a rape of a girl who was eight or nine at the time - I tried to intervene but I was beaten senseless for my trouble - it was the best kicking of my life.
I was assaulted at least five or six times a day. On one occasion I was raped. Children were encouraged to have sex with each other and if we didn't we would be kicked and beaten all over again.
I was also bullied by other children at the home, by the order of the staff - I carry the scars on my head to prove it. Even now I have flashbacks and nightmares about the abuse.
My life has been spoiled as a result of the abuse I have suffered, I do not trust people and sit and study people to try and understand them because I still feel people want to hurt me.
I believe that the Director of Social Services was fully aware of the abuse that went on as was the Assistant Director of Social Services.
Today and Tomorrow...........
As a result of my experiences I have avidly campaigned against child abuse and spoken with local and national media on many occasions to spread the message and raise the awareness of child abuse amongst the public. In a similar way to when I was in care when I felt it was my duty to absorb the abuse suffered by others, I continue to feel it is my responsibility as a survivor, to try and prevent it happening to others. I have canvassed my local MP and the Government for 15 years; I was awarded damages, but not Justice.
by brianon 21 Oct 2005
I'm 15 years old a few months ago when I was 14 I was going out with a 21 year old man. We went out for about a month in a half. Everything seemed fine, he was always so nice to me and would do anything for me, until one night ... he brought me to his house and we were just kissing and fooling around. Then he asked me if I wanted to have sex and not thinking I said yes. But when we got started I told him I didn't want to do it. He stopped and 10 seconds later he grabbed on to my legs and he raped me. I asked him to stop but he didn't care to listen... he continued. I went to the hospital and got a rape kit. I'm glad I did this because now that people know I can get help and he is going to jail for 45 years. If this ever happens to you, I hope you won't be afraid to talk and tell someone what happened. Don't be scared to because if you are then you will regret not telling anyone.
by kathleenon 21 Oct 2005
I was raped by my ex stepfather. It went on for 3 years (8-10)
He didnt rape me at first, first he molested me. The first time he raped me I knew it was something bad but I didn't know it was going to hurt. I tried to get him off, and I tried to hit him, kick him.
I was about 12 when I told my doctor I was touched. And it was yesterday when I finally admitted I was raped.
Because everybody kind of ignored it, I started to cut myself. I have really low self esteem and I donut want to be here anymore. I want to go but I know I have to stay with my daddy and brother, which I love more than words can say. And my grandma. I also have to say that one lady who is like a mother to me saved my life. I wouldn't be here if she didn't help me.
My bio mother on the other hand, still continues to tell her friends and co-workers I am a liar.. She has done many hurtful things and has called me some awful names.
I am starting to realize she doesn't want to believe me because she doesn't want to deal with it. She doesn't want to feel at fault for leaving me alone with him. But why should I feel like its my fault? I try to tell myself it inst but I know deep down it is.
I was molested and raped, and I don't know if I will move on!
I don't want to feel alone. I don't want to feel like I did something to provoke him. Yet I feel I deserved it for some reason.
Help me, please!
by heatheron 21 Oct 2005
I was raped by our next door neighbor. He was 17 and I was around 12. He always liked to sneak up and scare me and my mother.... my mom acted as though she was scared of him sometimes, or laughed it off.
I don't see how she couldn't see.
I remember during those times he'd just stare at me and I'd stand real close to my mother and look back at him.
Even before I was 12 actually, my mother would take us over to the neighbors apartment and they'd babysit us.
I remember distinctly his eyes staring at me and watching for a reaction from me. I don't really want to go into detail but he'd touch me all over and force oral on me. He'd keep asking me, do you like this? or "feels good doesn't it...you know it feels good, you don't want me to stop"
I remember feeling so small.
Oh, I wanted to die. I felt as though I wanted to sink through the floor or actually disappear into the wall.
I was in the corner because he always approached me quiet and I'd try to walk away... but there was never anyone to save me.
Just him to touch me... and smile at me. I hate it when a guy smiles at me or watches me. I want to be sick just thinking about how I felt and how no one came. I can not help the way I feel.
I honestly think I hate my own mother...I hate her for not caring.
I used to write letters saying, I should die, why don't I just die in my sleep. I am so stupid, stupid and so so ugly.
by 'Neveon 20 Oct 2005
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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.