After All These Years My Abuser Still Tries The Same Tactics He Used When I Was Five

A round of applause for the man who abused me in every way for fifteen years and then when I ran away from home convinced my whole family that the only reason I ran away was because I was mentally unstable. My Father has accused three people of being crazy: Philip Mann, My mother and me. I’m the only one of the three still alive. The first died by a gunshot that was ruled suicide and my mother died in a bizarre accident that was suspected as poisoning.

I didn’t know why everyone acted so oddly towards me until someone made one too many slips and then I found out the truth. This is the same man who convinced me that Philip Mann, a good friend of mine was schizophrenic and when I finally, just this year read the coroner’s report found out that HE HAD NEVER BEEN IN MEDICAL CARE OR SEEN A PSYCHIATRIST his whole life.

This was after I was told he spent weeks in a psychiatric hospital and then a year later he mysteriously shot himself in my Dad’s yard with my Dad’s gun. It was passed off as suicide based off of only my Dad’s word that the man was mentally ill.

This was my mother when she was married, she ended up ruined because of both her fear of what her family would do to her if she spoke up about her abuse and from what her husband did to her. She’s been dead since 2008.

Then he spread similar stories about my mother, this time actively driving her crazy, he told me he did it because he, ‘didn’t want to pay alimony to the bitch’. He bragged about it to me and about burning down our house twice when I was a child BRAGGED about it. He said, ‘Your mother couldn’t keep house so it was easier to burn it down then to clean it’ about an event that was incredibly psychotic and traumatizing.

He also bragged about putting rat poison in his Dad’s coffee and angering him to the point of heart attacks until my grandfather died at an early age.

Then when I left home, he said it was because I was insane. I’m the ONLY ONE STILL ALIVE.
Yeah, but I’M the crazy one.
The only crazy thing I did was cover up for him and hide his secrets. That’s so over now. Threatening me will just make it worse.
Fuck you, Daddy. Fuck you.

Now there are allegations that he’s moved on to another generation of children. Meanwhile I’ve been abandoned and threatened, had insults hurled at me by the rest of my family that is determined to protect my abuser and to never listen to me. To never wonder why I ran away and to believe him again and again when he says that yet another person is crazy. Everyone is crazy except him and those people end up dead. Not me. If I die at least I know that I didn’t die silent and alone like my mother. At least I know that I said something and tried to STOP abuse.

I kept his secrets for years to keep him from getting him into trouble. Why? Because I loved him. I still love him. I will always remember the good times before the bad times but I have finally learned the lesson that silence and love are not the same things.

Despite everything he did to me, I’m not crazy. But he is. He’s a sociopath and he’s out to get me because I dared to buck the controls he put on me. I ran away from home, I ran across the country and he still hunted me. Now I am done running. I am finished covering up his crimes.

He trained me to jump when he snapped his fingers. To pour his baths, rub his feet and eat his scraps as a reward when I was good. He taught me to be a good girl and obey and anticipate his every need. I was trained to fetch him coffee and carry it just so, deliver it in the only mugs he liked (white, he said other ones tasted like soap to him). He made me obey his every whim. I was his slave until the day, with my whole body trembling, for the first time in my life I told him, ‘no’. I stuck to that ‘no’ and it lead to me eventually escaping from him only to have him try to treat me like that never happened. He’s trying to make me five again. Trying to scare me into submission. It doesn’t work, I’m not a little girl any more and now I just get angry when someone tries to dominate or intimidate me.

Unlike my mother who went from one abuser to the next, I escaped the cycle of abuse and I don’t ever intend to let someone bully me ever again. I learned how to be strong or fade and die like his and my stepmother’s other victims.

I hope that my bio-family reads this. The last article I posted they demanded I take down and I received threats from people who assured me that they knew far more about my family than I did and that they were amazing and wonderful people. Message me again, go on, comment on how you played the SIMs with my half-sister so you know what it was like to grow up with these people. God, how dumb can you be? To think that visiting after school is the same thing as living with someone.

My half-sister and my little brother weren’t beaten all the time and forced to pick rocks and eat scraps. I asked my dad why he raised them so differently from me and my older brother and he replied, ‘Because I could never have gotten away with it.’

Call me crazy all you want, but this is the truth and the truth will win out. I have medical records, pictures of me from the age of five with black eyes, bruises on my  upper arms that look like hand marks, hand print shaped bruises across my entire half of my face, even my inner thighs. I have social services records. I have proof and all the people who back this mad man have is his word and his ever increasing body count to back him up.