Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Part 2

If you are new to the blog start in the April post....

A
bout a year after being released from the hospital, after I had gone through some physical and speech therapy to regain what I had lost from my illness, I was molested by my biological father, at 2 1/2 years old. I have found that even now 23 years later this is something that I struggle to write about. This man that should have been the one to teach me softball, taken me on daddy-daughter dates, and threaten my dates at the door, turned into a dark shadow that has haunted me for years.
My parents had separated shortly after I left the hospital because
he had an affair with my nurse while I was in the hospital, along with other women. He was also extremely physically and mentally abusive to her.
One night while my mom was on patrol in Seattle, my grandmother was giving me a bath, I told her that my daddy had hurt my bum, when my grandmother questioned me about it and asked me where he had touched me I showed her and told her what happened. My grandmother told my mom what I had told her. The only thing that I remember from that night is the bubble bath ice cream cone that sat in the corner of the tub.
My mom took me to a hospital to have the doctors examine me. I remember more of that visit than I wish too. I remember the happy childlike pictures that hung on the walls, the size of the room, where my mother stood as the doctors examined me. I remember the satin little girl panties I was wearing. I can still see the view I had as I was lying on the examination table. There were doctors and nurses looming over me, a male doctor standing in the front. I remember my knees being up, and the doctor moving my legs apart so he could check me. I don't remember much after that. The doctors concluded that the abuse had gone on for several months. There was tearing, bruising, etc that showed forceful signs of rape. Rape. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror that my mother must have felt to hear this. Rape at such a young age, is so common, yet unfathomable.
At the time this was happening, my mother was working as a police officer for King County, Washington. Being a pretty woman on the force may have its perks but it can also be what almost gets you killed. I'll tell you more in my next post.


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