Here is a start to what I would like to share with you. Before I ever entered the world as a child I was an innocent egg inside my mother. She experienced a lot of abuse with my father her entire marriage. While she was pregnant with me she was on prescription drugs and methamphetamine (Crystal Meth/Speed). I was born on drugs as an innocent baby coming into this world. At 6 months old my father started molesting me (Yes I remember VERY clearly) what happened to me. He would come into my crib at night and he would play with my vagina and rub his penis against my vagina and he would stick his penis inside of me as a young infant until the age of 8. Growing up I trusted no one because I was being abused on a constant basis by my father. Not only sexually but physically, mentally, & emotionally. I wouldn't speak to anyone who wasn't in my circle not even ONE word. The only people I would speak to were my mother, my grandma & Grandpa and my Aunt. Everyone else I would just observe and think they will probably hurt me so theres no point to talk to them. So one year in 3rd grade my teacher was very concerned. I will forever be grateful for her. She told me at the beginning of the year that she wasn't going to give up on me she would get me to talk to her if it was the last thing that she ever did in her career. She was a persistent woman. She didn't give up on me like she promised she wouldn't. So by the end of my 3rd grade year just days before I was set to go back to my summer full of every night being molested by him she asked me one more time, she said is there something that you need to tell me you are safe with me. Knowing my fate was being molested every night the entire summer I opened up to her and I told her that my father was putting his private parts inside of me. Immediately I was rushed to the office with the counselor, the principal, the police, the detective, my mother screaming and crying, my father trying to come into the room to beat me for opening my mouth. He always told me he would kill me if I said a word to anyone. Thats why I was silent for so many years. At that young age of 8 I said fuck this and opened my mouth and spoke up about the abuse. Immediately I was rushed to my grandparents house with my mother. We had to hide out, my father threatened to kill us. My mom then started her custody, divorce battle. Funny thing about that is a lot of this was covered up. They rushed me to the counselor and I had to play with dolls and show then what my father did to me. Very hard for a child to experience. During the court trial they forced me to see him with visitation rights supervised at Burger King. I would have to sit on his lap and be around him even when I feared he would hurt me again. None of it was fair. Recently 30 years later I obtained the official court documents of my parents divorce. WOW was I shocked to find all the things they covered up for him. He was a big shot in a small town in New Mexico and the judge knew that so they covered up a lot of the things he did and he never once served time or actually admitted to having sex with me almost every single night of my life from 6 months until 8 years old. My mother and I moved to Colorado away from my whole family to hide out because he threatened to kill us. He found us in Colorado showed up with a shot gun to kill us and thankfully my grandparents friends protected us and ran him off. So my mom and I were on the run once again and we moved to a different town in Colorado further away and tried to start over. We started our life over and yet again my mother found another abusive man as a boyfriend. He was verbally abusive to me, would tell me I'm fat, I'm ugly, I am a stupid lesbian who will never find someone to love me, he nick named me Bubbles. Called me fat on a daily basis several times a day. Needless to say he ended up cheating on my mother. So fast forward to the ripe age of 10. My mom tells me hey my best friend lives in Las Vegas Nevada, we are going to move there, say goodbye to your friends we are leaving next week. So once again I had to say goodbye to the squad I had created and to Vegas I went. Thankfully this is where we stayed until I graduated high school. Unfortunately sin city isn't just a facade for this city. Vegas is a beautiful city and it is full of a lot of good but also a lot of sin! My mom got heavy into drugs and overdosed several times. There were times when I was a kid going to school and she would get me from school and take me straight to her meth houses where I learned how to cook meth and cut it and sell it. I learned how to do the shit they do on the show breaking bad. If you want to know what my life was life it was completely breaking bad. I would sit in the corner of the meth lab doing my homework aspiring to NOT be like my mother. I got a side job being paid .01 cents to put pizza fliers on doors because my mom couldn't afford to buy me school clothes or shoes so I got a job at 10 and saved money so I could at least have nice shoes for school so everyone wouldn't keep bullying me. One day I saved up just enough to buy me a nice new pair of nikes. One day I got ready for school and I put on my old sandals because it was a hot day in Vegas. I came home from school only to find my Nikes were SOLD for ONE hit of crack! I worked my fucking ass off for those Nikes and she sold them for a HIT of crack!!!! I was so pissed off and upset. Fast forward to age 13. She meets my step father. He wasn't the greatest but he tried to be a dad to me. He beat the hell out of me everyday but I figured I deserved it even though now I see I didn't. He enabled my mother to be a meth addict. Fast forward to age 16 where my mother sent me to school to sell drugs to my friends and she made me bring her the money home. I would hide the drugs in the church parking lot across the street from the school and I would go on my lunch and after school to dig up the drugs so I could sell to people at school. I had a quota to meet everyday by my mother. We had dealers show up at our house with guns to our head telling us to pay up because she owed so many people money. We were constantly watching out back to make sure that we weren't going to be murdered for her drug debt. At that age I said fuck this I am moving out of this house I can't do it anymore so I moved to the ghetto of all ghettos. I mean where you do not even want to live in Vegas. But I had to get out of there or I was going to be just another statistic. I got a call a few weeks later from the police that my mother had OD'ed and she was at the hospital and she might not make it and I needed to come and see her before she passes away. I went over there to find her on a metal slab, with black charcoal coming out of her mouth her entire face covered in charcoal from throwing up. She was breathing and alive, I cried for hours and I had to call my grandparents to tell them that she wasn't ok and they had to come get her and take her back to New Mexico or she was going to die here in Vegas. They came the next day and picked her up and took her back to NM. SomehowI graduated high school by some miracle of the universe. Fast forward to 23 where my grandparents call me to say that my grandpa has cancer and is dying. Keep in mind my grandparents are my entire world and they've were my only support system my entire life. I was devastated beyond reason. So once again I was thrown into the lions den of drugs. I move back home to New Mexico only to find that my mother is still on meth and is worse than ever. My grandparents didn't know what to look for so they had no idea. I knew the minute I had to move in with her. My grandpa passed away in 2003. Four years later I lost my grandma in 2007. When I lost those two I lose my entire world. Now fast forward to being 38. I have had three terrible relationships all abusive in their own ways. I have overcome depression, suicide & cutting. I failed at ending my life twice. Not for attention but just because I didn't do it right either time unfortunately. But here I am now 38 and living my best life. You are not alone and there is light at the end of the tunnel. I’m here for you. Your story isn’t over ;
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