On having to share your mother and step-father's bedroom...

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My Story

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Here is a segment from "My Story"... *****TRIGGER WARNING******

>> "When I was about six, my mother had an affair with another "man". She fell pregnant by this "man". At first she told everybody that the child was my fathers. Shortly after my birth my father had a vasectomy so the chances would have been slim. Anyway, fast forward a year or two, the "truth" came out, my parents got divorced, my half sibling was born, my father out, my mother remarried and my step father in...happy days, not.

Then, my mother had another child. Living conditions were a little cramped in our flat so the new born went into the single bedroom and me and my half sibling were moved into the same bedroom as my mother and my step father...I slept on the top bunk.

I lived like this, sharing their bedroom, for four years or so [from about 8/9 to 12 years old].

On a regular basis I had to endure my step father and my mother "at it" [a nice way of putting it I suppose] in the same room. I can remember the sights and sounds vividly [the grunts, groans, the sex talk, legs entwined, you get the picture...]. Often, "sleep", was hard to come by.

I just lay there, trapped, as still as possible, silent, too scared to move, even breathe, on the top bunk, pretending to be asleep while the man who sent my father packing had a good time with my mother, my mother a willing participant. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run too, no safe haven to confide in.

Sometimes I would peer through a crack in the blankets covering my face. I would close my eyes shut tight but I couldn’t cover my ears, all I could do was wait for them to finish and clean up, then there would be silence, then I would lay awake and replay the video in my mind. I couldn’t erase the sights, sounds and images. They are still ingrained, even now.

As they say, “once it is seen you cannot un-see”…

It felt dirty, brutal, nauseating and it made me mad. Seeing this “man” demonstrating himself the way he did and seeing and hearing my mother, with no regard, crave what he could give her. Did my mother not care that I was sleeping at the foot of her bed?

I felt humiliated, angry, of no consequence, of no importance, just and object in the room, certainly not cherished or respected.

I guess I was subjected to “live porn” from the age of nine, for the next four years, week after week. I had to witness the imposter “man” taking his place on top of my mother. Wash, rinse, repeat [no pun intended]..sorry I don’t mean to sound comical but looking back now I can almost laugh, somewhat wryly.

Is this abuse? Surely it is. Gross neglect? Must be. Why would a mother allow this to happen to her child? Mommy wouldn't do that...would she?"


Just thought I would share a segment from my survivor life story. "Mom" let me down, I will follow up in another post about how "dad" let me down too.

Sad that our parents, our care-givers, whatever you want to call them didn't give us their best, many of us were expendable, consumable, of no value.

Thank you for stopping by.

MS :)
 
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