UGH

I can't think of a title to even convey what I feel inside. But in a week I will be sharing my story and I think I could get sick.
I am slightly freaking out, I feel a knot in my throat and my stomach hurts. I want this so bad, I need to tell my story so many I can help other people not feel so darn alone.
But yet, I am so so so scared. Have I mentioned I am freaking out?
Why? Because I am afraid by brining out this out, in person with a great friend and then a few strangers that I may go backwards a few steps. I may have nightmares, and just experience some of this again. And then on the other hand I may gain some healing.

I was looking through a book today while cleaning and came across two pictures. One is of the back of the apartment and other other of the front of it. The place where my innocence was stolen.



One day several years ago in an attempt to gain some healing I went by our old place. Someone else lives there now obviously but I snapped a few pictures. I am not really sure why I thought this would bring any ounce of healing.

However when I look at them now I feel sick to my stomach, I can picture the crap that took place, it's so vivid.

And then I realized a few days ago that New Years is coming up. This girl is so not looking forward to it. In fact I don't think I have celebrated that holiday since I was a kid. This year will be that much harder as my husband is on call. Looks like I will be going to bed way early again and avoiding the stupid night.

Then another big thing I did was write a letter to him. Here it is....


Wayne,
This has to be one of the hardest letters I have ever written. But is long over-due.
Starting at the age of ten you molded my life more than you will ever know. You molesting me took so much from me, and made me change my views of the world. I went from an innocent girl who thought the world was her playground, to a silent, ashamed, hurt and afraid child and even adult.
The lies you held inside regarding the abuse and the distorted views on how it happened and acohol being the driver in your abuse to me, Jessie and Samantha just made me angry.
It wasn’t until I lost my son that I realized the real, true radical impact the abuse played into my adult life. I hated men for so long, I was afraid of the dark into my twenties, and still now at 30 find myself paralyzed by the fear of being outside or even in my own home alone at night. I make sure my doors are locked and I still even then find myself afraid of every noise, thinking someone will be there to hurt me.
The ways you touched me, made me so afraid to love on my children the way I should freely be able to. There is nothing wrong with a hug and cuddling and it took me so long to get there. Because of your touching I robbed my children of a few years of affection. Now I can learn to love them so much better.
I know I didn’t tell anyone prior to my telling because you had me so convinced I did something disgusting, and I should be ashamed. When really, it should have been the other way around.
I watched how you treated my mom, and how you hurt her so many times physically. It was then I made a decision that I would never be that woman. The woman who a man put his hands on, who had her believe his lies of it will never happen again. I am a lucky one though, because I know all too often girls follow their mothers footsteps, and I refuse for that to be my life.
I don’t know if any of this will get me anywhere with you, and if not that’s ok. I know I need to let this all out for me. I need to know in my heart I finally got my day to say what I needed to, to feel heard even if in a letter. And to know that I did NOTHING wrong. I was a child, who looked to you for fatherly love to be let down, and let down further than I ever imagined. You stole twenty years of my life from me. Because I allowed it. But I am taking it back now.
God is the father I always needed, and I know in my heart he loves you. As hard as that is for me to accept, it’s the truth. I cannot spend the rest of my life wishing you paid a price for what you have done to me. I am not sure there would even be a price that would be of vaule.
I will never know what you live with daily, and if it’s nothing ….no big deal to you. I have to be ok with that too!
Without forgiving you I am only holding myself captive to your abuse. I need to be free of everything you have taught me. I need to let God be your judge and in the end be ok with whatever he decides for you.
So I guess what I am saying is, I forgive you for molesting me for those years. I truly, honestly forgive you. I don’t need to forget that will be impossible but I will let God take this one. I want JOY so much.
I can only hope by letting this go good will come from it, because for twenty years I have gained nothing by holding on so tightly to being mad at you, for wishing you ill.
And more than anything I forgive myself, I forgive myself for holding onto the view I did something wrong, that I must of deserved it. I forgive myself for not telling anyone sooner or right away.


Angela




Tomorrow I am going to mail it, and I am happy but I am also afraid. What will come of it? I am purposly not including a return address but who knows what will happen.

All in all I feel like crud, the verge of a breakdown and yet a sense of peace strangely enough.