Curling up

motionless

silent in my corner

hardly dare to breath

Close my eyes hard

shutting out

everything that hurts

can hardly breath

my hands turns to fists

want to hit

my body goes stiff

don't want to breath

Turn the light out

cries

in the deep darkness

and I have to breath

Midnight

I wake up, scream

right into the silence

No one hear

My scream echoes into the silence

I wake up, crying

but no one see my tears

no one sees

and the tears slowly runs down my cheeks

Memories keeps hurting me

Read the news today. Another serial rapist is on the loose in my town. Police warns all woman from going out. The anxiety hit me hard and I´m falling apart again. I know why I´m having these flashbacks but it doesn't help. The pain is there, the fear is as real as if it was happening right now and I´m feeling so damn helpless.

The only ways out of this isn't there. Damned predators, why do they have to be everywhere?

A declaration of love

The lyrics suddenly makes sense, so strange for me that never did believe in love. The cynic who was sure the novels and love songs was all made up to make everyone dream, dream of something that wasn't there. Then I fall, head over heals and find myself understanding the words, feeling the things described. Its fantastic but scary. It wonderful and amazing and still I find I cant describe it and make it justice.

My sweet, this is for you. Thank you for being you!

Can´t help dancing....

Hearing this song makes me dance, there is nothing I can do to avoid my body moving.

The lyrics express how I feel for that special someone and I so hope he understands that.

With love

Having a teen with Autism

Having a teen is hard. Having a teen with autism is a little bit harder. Normally you would expect that they start taking responsibility for things at age 9 and then you add responsibility.

In this case its impossible. Just getting him out of bed in the morning is hard work. Getting laundry down, having him get dressed without pointing out that he needs sock or a jacket or a hat or something is not something that I recommend, he would go to school mid winter in a t-shirt.

Every little thing that the rest of us takes for granted I have to double check. Usually its not done or only half´done.

Today has been a terrible day...took 5 and a half hours to get him to wake up and then he refused to go to school.

Still love him though.

I´m trying to get enough structure but its almost impossible with 2 teens and a 6 year old. They all need so much and want it NOW.

They change their minds all the time to.....

I´m so lucky I have wonderful people that understands and support me through this and most of all, gives me hope.

Its good to feel appreciated once in a while! Thank you.

And that special someone, without you there was no hope, no joy and few smiles. Now I´m dancing on sunshine all the time with stars sparkling in my eyes!

This song is especially for you

Life does go on

About a year ago the first child was returned home. When he came home again the wheels started spinning very fast and the last child was reunited with us about 7 months ago.

Their disability's makes it hard, I´m not going to lie about it but I manage.

My main goal now is to stabilize them and make them feel safe and feel that it is trust people.

Its not an easy task. Especially since I have had major trust issues my whole life.

Secondary goal is to help them become young men that can take responsibility for them self's.

The stalker is back. I have seen him. He´s been on my porch and outside my kitchen window, he has tried to get through the door. I´m not going to let him scare me into hiding again, but I carefully lock doors and windows at night. I see the car standing out side, watching.

I have come so far, the road up to here has been really difficult. If there is a Lord in heaven it should be my turn to get some happiness now. I want to believe that, I really do.

I have met someone. Someone who greatly changed the way I look at things and the way I look at myself. Still not sure that someone can really love me but I do believe him when he tells me he does. I did change my mind on so many things I was so certain of. I was so certain I would spend the rest of my life alone, now I hope for so much more. I was really set to never re marry, now I dream of a beautiful summer wedding. I was so sure no one would ever make me smile.

Me the one who is always so serious, lately I have smiled so much I have a cramp in my face.

My heart tumbles, my body tingles and my dreams are full of love and hope. That in it self is really, really scary.

Yes, still insecure. Yes, still wounded but I have begun my road to healing.

I still have nightmares, but now I wake up being saved instead of in a state of panic dripping in cold sweat. One day I may not have them at all.

I think I will be ok, I hope I do get the happiness I so hope for but I still doubt that I´m good enough.

And I do know the simple fact. In my life good usually turns to bad, just as soon as I begin to hope. And I do hope now. Lets see where the ride takes us.

Time is of the essence

When you are waiting for something it always take to long.

I found out that fact the hard way as I was waiting for my older son to get his neuropsychiatric evaluation. The line for the evaluation was so long social services decided I was a bad parent (since he had such an odd behavior) and decided to take my 3 kids into custody.

It was by far the most painful thing that ever happened to me but I decided to fight. After a year my son finally got his diagnose, high functioning Autism + ADHD. The middle child gets diagnosed with Atypical Autism.

Did they return the kids?

No....I had 2 more years of fighting in and out of court until I finally got my kids back.

Now with the diagnoses that was the reason for not returning them, I could not possibly deal with two so disabled kids and a young one on top.

During their time in foster care the children learned about physical and mental abuse. They learned that adults could not be trusted and that no one listens to them.

During these years I was a big hole. I was empty on the inside and my life had no meaning. All that mattered was the little time I had to spend with my kids.

Pattern....?

Had to fill my days with something that mattered so I started a charity that helped parents in the same situation with emotional support and legal advise.

I studied law day and night, I answered phone calls from parents that felt totally broken. Handled their anger and frustration and talked a lot of people out of both suicide and murder.

I worked every second I didn't spend with my kids or in the car on my way to them or from them...well....no...I worked then to. The phone could ring at any time of the day or the night.

I met with politicians and media.

Wrote legal documents and appeals. Wrote motions to get the law changed or the system to change the treatment of our young.

I was requested to review new suggestions on changing the legislation.

I did make some progress but no one can work non stop forever, I crashed and burned and had to cut down my workload from 700 cases to 350.

Still wasn't enough so I cut down to 200. The other girls I had to help couldn't cope with the extra cases and quit one by one (they had about 10 cases each). Finally I couldn't continue so I left the charity.

The remaining girls (and one boy) decided to end the charity.

20 of those cases called me and asked for continued help, today only 2 remains. 1 of them is almost resolved and one is due for court soon.

Now things are better. I have started to get the kids back on the right track....but its hard.

People call me superwoman....partly cause I need to always get as good as I can no matter what I do....but mostly cause I go on and on without asking for help. I refuse to give up, no matter how hard it gets.

And I´m still standing....

So who am I?

As everyone must understand after reading this a scared girl.

I have survived all this and I´m picking up the shattered pieces of my inner self and so far I´m finding places for most of the pieces.
Writing this was very painful but it did help me to connect a lot of the dots. It answered some of the questions I had.
I had a lot of ideas on why I had such a hard time sleeping. I figured it out...

I hope that someone out there that is in a similar situation as I was finds hope strength and courage from my story, it is the story about survival.

Don't just let your life get wasted by letting someone else decide for you, just cause its the easy way. It is much better to find a way to say the crucial words, Yes and No.

I´m just learning that now.

A rude awakening

When the baby was 3 months old I was breast feeding him in the morning, laying in bed. My husbands alarm clock went off but he didn't wake up.

Not that uncommon though, he was a heavy sleeper. I kicked him in the butt to wake him up but nothing happened.

I finish feeding the baby and get up to turn the alarm of and shake him to life. Little did I know that this choice of words is very unfortunate.

I turn the clock off, grab his shoulder to shake him awake. No reaction. He is so cold and something isn't right. I shake him again as my mind starts to look for life signs. He isn't breathing.

I feel for a pulse. I must have done it 10 times, cant find any. I shake him again but his body is stiff. I check for a pulse again and finally it enters my mind. He is dead.

I´m in shock. I call emergency service and report his death. I call my mom and my best friend.

The ambulance arrives. One of them goes in to my dead husband as the other one sits down asking me a lot of questions.

I hear the ambulance guy use the machine that starts hearts with electric shocks. I remember thinking, let him be, he is already dead stupid. My sons wake up and I stop them from entering the bedroom, I dint want them to see their dad dead.

A doctor arrives, declares my husband dead.

By now my friend and my mother has arrived. They do most of the talking. I just do the things that has to be done. All the things that demands no thinking. Dishes, laundry. Setting the table, serving meals.

The police comes. As my husband died at home without apparent reasons his death is considered suspicious. They are the first to sit down and ask me how I´m feeling.

I have no words really, I feel numb.

They call the undertaker that removes the body from our home. They arrange for the removal of the bed and delivery of a new bed saying it will help me sleep.

Now suddenly I´m sick, alone and there is so much to do. Planning of a funeral and a lot of other practical things surrounding a death. Helping the kids deal with their grief, professional help was not available. Weeks turn into months and eventually I accept that I´m a widow at age 34.

Its a hard life but I do my best and try to get the kids the help they need.

I decide to move yet again. This time to come home to my heritage.

I find a new home for us and all is good. But by now I think you understand that its soon to change.

Starting over

Moving to a bigger city. I can hide in the crowded squares although its still giving me a lot of discomfort. i still cant stand in lines at the store but I can pretend that I´m OK.

I start at the university a week before the baby turns 1 years old.

I lead a simple life. I go out to play on the yard with my kids every day. Either in the morning before classes or after school. I spend all evenings studying. I am alone but its something I have chosen.

At night I sit in the backroom with blinds down and hides, the stalker is back. Sitting outside in his car.

One morning he grabs me and throws me in a bush trying to rip my clothes off, I manage to kick him and get loose. I learn different routes to school as he waits for me if I take the same path twice. I try to keep myself safe.

One day as I´m out playing with the kids a neighbour starts talking to me. I´m distant but polite.

From that day he says hi when we meet on the street.

One day he rings the doorbell, asks me if I have any cigarettes, he is all out and the store is closed.

I let him in and we end up drinking coffee. We sat there talking for a few hours and it was the beginning of the next phase of my life.

I didn't know that then but this man was going to make things so much worse.

I was 26 years old and he was 16 years older than me. He was an American living in Sweden, big deal people say but the cultural differences are actually pretty big. If you add the age difference there is a lot of things that can go wrong.

He was the kind of man that was a real bully, it was his way or the highway. Do as I say or suffer.

With my history I turned even more submissive and silent.

When I was 6 months pregnant with our first child I came home to soon, I was lucky to catch an earlier bus and found him sitting my the stove smoking cannabis. I had no idea, I was shocked and upset but arguing with him was no option.

He told me we should get married. I just let it happen.

Now that I knew about his habit he started taking out his anger on me when he ran out of drugs. I started saving money in hidden places so I could make him calm in those situation.

At this time I started loosing weight. I had the baby, another son and kept loosing weight.

The doctors could not find anything that could cause the weight loss, however, they did find cancer and when the baby was 18 months old I went through chemo.

I was so weak, couldn't even stand up. My ultimate low in weight landed on 82 pounds. I was skin and bones and people said I was transparent.

After chemo my immune system was not working so I ended up with pneumonia after pneumonia.

My husband was very frustrated over my inability to do the household work, he kept screaming and calling me names and since I just stood there silent he started to get physical. I cant count the times he threw me into the wall or pushed me so I fell. I lost count on the things he threw that hit me or the wall next to me.

I did everything he asked me to. If he wanted sex we had sex. If he wanted a 3 course dinner, we had that. If he wanted me to sit on the balcony in mid winter with barely no clothes, I did that. The worst he ever did was force me into the cold shower and when I was soaked he put me on the balcony, mid winter and when he let me in my clothes was solid ice.

The cancer reared its ugly head again and I had surgery to remove the bad cells. They caught it early so I didn't have to go through more chemo. My immune system had improved slightly but my weight was still way to low.

He wanted another baby. I agreed, the kids was the only good thing in my life so I really felt I wanted one more.

After a very difficult pregnancy I gave birth to a tiny 5 pound boy. He was not full term.

I had no idea that life soon would change again.

A false sense of hope

The guy takes me to my home, he lives really close and he kind of knew about the stuff happening.

He says he has seen me and seen the bruises.

I look for a friend. He wants a trophy. I let him.

We never live together but we are involved for the next few years. Its easy and convinient. He asks for very little. To look nice when we go places. To be available. To cook and clean,

He never hits me. He never rapes me. We have sex. I dont want it but its easier to just let it happen. Its ok though, its not very often.

I end up pregnant. He calls it off. I learn he had cheated on me during the whole time.

During theese years I have moved 4 times to get away from the stalker. He moves after me and keeps showing up at my door. I`m soon going to turn 25.

I have another son. I decide to move again.

Looks like an angel

As I sit in the waiting room at the hospital I´n being approached by a guy that looks sweet. he appears shy and timid and has eyes as a puppy.

I let him sit there and talk.

He kept the conversation going and when I had been all bandaged up he was waiting outside offering me a ride. it was late at night. The last bus had long gone and I really didn't feel like walking through the woods on my own.

He drove me home. He was kind and said goodnight, not even attempting to get fresh. That was very unusual to me.

I went up and tried to sleep.

Next day, early in the morning I went for the store. I was a little surprised that his car was standing outside but think much of it.

When I got to the store he was there, smiling and looking at me with those puppy eyes.

I reluctantly agreed to take a coffee with him. He kept showing up everywhere and one day he was standing my my door. I let him in for a cup of coffee and he simply moved in.

About 3 weeks later he started getting weird. He got really upset if the plate was standing wrong or if the shoes was places wrong in hallway. Little things that didn't deserve that much anger.

I did my best to please but the more I tried the more controlling he got.

He started drinking. Suddenly the angel turned into a devil. I just walked into the living room after clearing of the table and doing the dishes and for some reason he got upset, I still don't know what triggered him. A black eye and a bloody nose was the result that first time. Later in bed we had sex for the first time. I cant call it rape. I didn't say no. I just let it happen.

That becomes my strategy from that moment on.

6 months later it all escalates again. I´m in the shower when he comes home. He has 3 friends with him. he unlocks the door and lets them in, he wants to show of his property.

I yell at them to get the fuck out. I shouldn't have. I come out, he rapes me and then he lifts me up, takes me out on the balcony and throws me over the railing. Straight down into the pavement.

I let the apartment go. I get another place. I move.

He finds me.

Breaks in.

Rapes me.

Beats me.

He has become a stalker.

I give up, decide to end my life and once again I almost succeed. But just almost.

As I sink under the water surface a guy reaches down and grabs my hair and pulls me up.

As he covers me with a blanket from his car he whispers that I´m safe now.

Crash and burn

I sit alone one night watching TV, my son is sleeping peacefully in the next room. I have no fear and don't lock the door until its time to go to sleep. I feel perfectly safe and perfectly secure and I didn't even hear the front door open.

I just suddenly feel hands grabbing me from behind and throwing me on the floor. Once again I feel helpless and exposed but this time its worse. I cant scream for help, the baby would be terrified and this is happening in my home, in the one place where I´m supposed to be safe.
I cry, I beg them to stop but they just laugh. One of them hits me and tell me to be quiet as the other one rips my clothes with the knife he holds in his hand.

As I lay there naked on the floor he puts the knife to my throat and tells me to open my mouth. I´m scared. I have never been so scared in my life.

Its not only the situation that scares me, its the fact that I have my 11 month old baby in the next room. What if he wakes? What if they hear him? Would they hurt him?
I do what they ask. I open my mouth and let them use it. I spread my legs, I make no resistance when they force themselves into me. I just lay there, much like if I had been a doll.

I´m not sure how long they stayed. I know that they had left at 3 in the morning when my baby woke up. I know I was bruised and that I had blood running down my thighs.

Later that afternoon my son is to go stay with his dad for the weekend. After he left I was feeling so empty and dirty. I used every drug I could find that weekend to push the nightmares away.

No drug I tried worked. The nightmares was still there and now I started having them in the daytime to. I could relive every second of the first rape if I went through a park or saw a guy with the same kind of hair as he did. A smell could bring me back to any of my horrible moments. I was so sure I was going crazy. The worse I felt, the worse I treated myself. I felt fat and ugly and stopped eating. That didn't make me feel better.

I danced, the only thing that ever took me away from the real world. Now instead of going a few times a month I went dancing 3-4 nights a week. It was a few moments of relief, but as soon as the music stopped hell started all over again.

I couldn't be where there was people. I had panic attacks in the checkout line at the store. I had to be there when they opened so I didn't have anyone standing behind me. I couldn't walk over an area with lots of people and most definitely not an area without people. I didn't feel safe anywhere.

I started cutting myself, when I did it as a young teen it was mainly cause everyone did and as a cry for help. Now it was more serious. Every cut sent signals to my brain releasing endorphins and other substances that made my pain go away. I ended up at the hospital one night after cutting a bit to deep.

That night I met someone who would make things even worse.

On my own

Suddenly I find myself in a place where I don't have to be afraid. No one can come in to my room when I sleep. The door is locked and I have the only key. I become a mother and feel that I have all I ever wanted and needed. I had turned off so much of myself but this was something all new.

During my pregnancy my brother left home. He couldn't stand the constant abuse and move to our father instead. It wasn't a good home there either but he wasn't beat up daily. Now my sister was all alone. One day she came to me after school and said she couldn't stand it anymore, could she please stay the night. That night turned into a year.

There was of course both good things and bad things with this arrangement. Good part was the company, bad part was the added responsibility and the financial burden I was not really able to cope with.

After a year my sister moved to our dad just like my brother did.

I´m now 19 years old and my life is starting to get better. I have a nice home. A great life and a wonderful son. I´m happy.

I miss my siblings but I feel good knowing that they are safe and not being abused. At our dads place the neglect is total but no abuse. The only one he ever did hit or abuse mentally is me.

I put my guard down and starts to relax. I shouldn't have.

Back to the streets

I was living at my moms again, this time with a new step-dad.

It worked pretty well at first, he appeared normal.

I worked full time and payed my way at home, helped my mom as much as I could when I got home from work.

This day I came home as every other day, had been serving customers at the restaurant where I worked all day, it had been a really busy day so I had not had time to sit even a minute. I came home, made coffee and had just poured it in a cup and was sitting at the table to drink it before doing dishes and start dinner.

My step-dad came home, I noticed that something was wrong at once. He had a secret we had not found out, he was a periodic alcoholic that had huge rage issues when he was drunk. Today I was to learn that truth to well.

He was coming in to the kitchen. He takes one look at me and before I can ask him if he wants some coffee he grabs me by the neck and throws me across the room. I land, head first into the refrigerator and I must have passed out cause the next thing I remember is him kicking my head time after time. I cant do anything to defend myself apart from applying my teeth to his Achilles tenant and bite with all I have. It keeps him from kicking my head, now all he can do is push it into the fridge door.

I manage to keep this up until my baby brother arrives home, he uses his Karate training to hold our step-dad long enough for me to get out of the place.

I once again left home. I once again choose the streets. I´m not 18 years old yet, cant rent a room or an apartment. Its cold outside, I sit in a park wondering what to do next.

I remembered that I had the keys to the garbage room at work. At least it was dry and not to cold. During this time of my life I did drink way to much and way to often. I had to drink to be close to people, if they touched me even so innocently I panicked. With enough alcohol I could stand someone putting their hand on my shoulder, unless it came from the back. Alcohol had another positive side effect, it kept most of my nightmares away.

I turn 18 and place myself in line to rent a place to make my home. The waiting list is long.

Christmas comes, I take my siblings to our dad for the holiday, to stand it there I drink. I drink more than I ever done before. During this stay my mom calls, I have gotten an apartment, a small one but still.....It has a door that I can lock....and its mine.

I arrange so that she can pick up the key for me since I´m out of town and on new-years eve I fly home to move into my new home.

I had been drinking nonstop for 7 days, hardly slept at all and I was still very drunk leaving the plane. I had to refill the alcohol all day to stay on my feet and then when it was time for the party, I was almost unconscious.

I remember that night in bits and pieces up until 10 in the evening. After that I´m told I passed out. I don't know and will never know exactly what happened, but my first son was conceived that night.

I hated his father for using me like that. I felt violated yet again. I did get something worth all the pain I had gone though from this though and I suddenly had a reason to live and to fight.

We had a good life my baby and I. But good things don't last in my life.

Returning to hell.

As I once again find myself under the same roof as my step-dad my mom has a surprise for me on my return, she got a dog for me. The dog is used to abuse and in desperate need of security and so am I so we quickly become best friends. She stays in my room and in my bed making me feel safe.

Where ever I go she follows.

Its nice to be with my siblings again but as I see my sister growing I get more and more worried that he will start moving in on her to. Lucky for her she isn't developing as fast as I did.

Almost a whole year passes without him even trying to touch me and I´m starting to feel that its over, that I can feel safe.

Then one day when I come home from school he is home.

I don't know why but there is something in the air, a feeling of danger maybe but I quickly make my excuses and take the dog for a long walk. I was hoping my mom would return by the time I came home. She didn't.

I go into my room and as I just closed the door as he opens it, so fast I fly across the room. He grabs me and yet again I find myself in the same situation as before, he tries to rip my clothes off. This time I get help, the dog attacks him to protect me and I use the only escape-route I can access, I jump out the window. I was lucky enough not to break any bones in the fall.

So I managed to get up after jumping out from 3 stories up and got myself to the bus. Went in to town intending never to return.

I choose to live on the streets, it wasn't good but it was better than what I left behind. I have 2 weeks left until my 14th birthday.

On the streets I made friends, they became my new family. Some of my old friends stayed in my life and helped when they could. On a lucky day I could sleep at a friends house, be able to use a shower and get a hot meal. On a bad day I slept in the subway tunnel, crying myself to sleep.

Social services got wind of the situation and tried to place me in group-homes. That didn't work out, in my country there was only mixed group-homes and for me to be the only girl with 14 boys it was torture. The others there was not like me, they had criminal records, they used drugs and they looked at girls like objects. They all tried. Once again I found that I wasn't safe in my own bed at night so I ran, back out on the streets cause even if it wasn't perfectly safe I had more control over what happened.

The police found me time after time and returned me to the group-home but I left as soon a I could and headed back out on the streets.

On the streets I fell in love for the first time of my love. He was a little bit older than me. Dark tall and handsome. His hair was long and curly and he was what you call a bit of a bad boy. He had a dog to and through that dog he got close to me.

We used to go for walks with this dog of his and hold hands. I was still very innocent despite the things I had been through. had not even kissed a boy. He was the one who gave me my first kiss.

One day he asked me to go with him and his friends to one of the major parks in town, I was happy and went along. All was nice and they drank a little wine, they asked me but I declined.

He kissed me and everything was great for a second.

Suddenly I find myself pinned down and his friends help him hold me down as he pull my pants down. I couldn't comprehend that it was happening. In a park in the middle of the day. I scream no and people just walk by. Some stands looking, maybe cause they got scared or maybe they liked watching, I do not know. All I know is that it added to my shame, to my feelings of guilt and helplessness.

He rapes me. Violates me and when he is done he lets his friends take turns.

After this my mind is totally blank for two days. I do not know where I have been or what I have done. Its just totally black.

A friend of mine finds me and takes me to her home and in the hot shower I try to get clean.

I still cant remember much. But I feel dirty.

A few months later i miscarry twins. Shortly after that I try to end my miserable existence.

I take a bottle of pills. To be sure its going to work I take 100. 10 is an overdose that can kill a grown man. I swallow it with a bottle of vodka. I then walk down to the subway, the plan is to get in front of a subway-train. I collapse in the escalator on my way down and the police find me unconscious.

An ambulance arrives and on the way to the hospital my heart stops beating. I had just turned 15.

I´m revived thanks to the ambulance guy who wouldn't give up. He felt I was worth saving and kept trying to get my heart to beat.

Once at the hospital they managed to get pulse and breathing but it was touch and go for over a week before I opened up my eyes. I was disappointed.

After this I didn't care, I was the one taking all the risks but didn't let anyone come close. If you tried to hug me you would get a kick or a punch...

I did my very best to keep people as far away cause i knew you couldn't trust them, especially not males.

I drank a lot of alcohol. I tried to forget. Not that it worked but when I was really drunk I didn't dream so much. The nightmares was really giving me a hard time.

I moved in at my moms again, she had a new boyfriend and I hoped it would be better.

I got a job and things looked brighter. I had just turned 17.

For a while it was better. But nothing lasts.

Changes

My stepmother wakes me early in the morning, her water broke so they have to go to the hospital.

I´m really happy, I am looking forward to the baby.

When I return home from school they have not yet called so I go to my room and sit there looking out the window, I opened the window a bit to smoke (my dad didn't approve but he wasn't home was he?) and was waiting impatiently for the phone call announcing the arrival of my baby brother.

The phone rings..I run to the kitchen....but no one is there. This made me feel a bit uneasy but I went back to my room. As I return and look out the window I find myself looking at one of the most horrific scenes i have ever seen. Down on the pavement in front of me is the body of a woman. She had fallen/been thrown from the 7th floor.

A little while later they call from the hospital, my new baby brother is born. I´m 13 years old.

The baby comes home after 3 days but my stepmother has a bad infection so they keep her at the hospital for 3 weeks. During these weeks my dad stays home in the mornings and after lunch I go home early from school to take care of the household and my baby.

Life is so good, but like everything in my life it wont remain good.

About 3 months later my dad is picked up by the police. My stepmom kicks me out and I´m once again forced to return to my mom and stepdad.

Disappearing

The night before midsummer ( a huge day of celebrations in Sweden) my parents have a party, in itself nothing unusual. They got very drunk, still nothing unusual.

Dad goes out for a walk, as he often does but this time he didn't come home. After a few hours my mom asks me to take my bike and ride around the community to search for him.

I searched for hours...

Finally I came home again, hoping he had returned but he hadn't.

Midsummers-eve comes, dad is still not home so mom asks my grandparents to drive us to the celebration. We all go but non of us is having fun.

Where is he, is he still alive, what happened?

So many questions and no answers. As far as we knew he could be dead somewhere.

When we returned that afternoon there was a note on the table. Dad had been home. He was alive.

It read that he needed to figure some things out and return to us later.

What we didn't know then was that he had made another woman pregnant.

The whole summer he used to call me in the morning, begging me to stay at home so he could come home to explain. He never showed.

The fall comes near, my mom starts seeing one of the men who never could keep his hands of my body. Being home becomes harder and harder. One night as I sit watching TV he comes in and pin me down to the sofa. His hands are all over me and he manages to get my pants down. My t-shirt is ripped into pieces and I feel so exposed, so violated. I manage to get out of the livingroom and lock myself into the bathroom. I sit there in the dark until my mom returns home.

I never say anything. I was so ashamed. Somehow I felt it was my fault.

I call my dad and ask if I can come live with him and his new woman. When he asks why i just say I´m not getting along with moms new guy.

Life is better for a while. Dad still drinks to much. His new woman is weird. But I dont have to worry at night, I´m safe in my bed.

When home turns unsafe

When I was 11 my cousin who is 5 years older than me moved to us as a foster-child. I was thrilled, he was 15 and cool. Finally I would get a big brother that could be there for me.

At first it was great, he didn't bother me and I didn't bother him. I turned 12.

Then he started going into the bathroom when I was getting ready for bed or unlocked the door while I was taking a bath. He always had a good excuse, he needed a towel or had to put laundry in.

This went on some time, made me feel slightly uneasy but he wasn't touching me.

Then night I woke up, someone was hurting me.

I opened my eyes and he was sitting next to my bed with one of his hands between my legs, he was really hurting me. He had his eyes on my body so he never noticed that I was awake.

He used his other hand to entertain himself.

Suddenly everything changed. I wasn't even safe in my own bed. I have had problems with sleep ever since. I was now 12 years old.

He kept coming in to my room every now and then, always when he was sure I was sleeping and always touching me.

A few months later my dad leaves us.

The neighbur

I started spending time at the neighburs place, he always had time for me and always told me what a bright and kind child I was.
I was starved for attention and felt like he was the nicest person on earth.

After a couple of months the conversations started to be about the body and sexuality.
I was 8 years old.
At first it was rather innocent questions but slowly the questions was getting more advanced. Questions about how my body was developing, if I had hair below, if my breasts had started to develop.

I was really embarrassed and he changed the subject.

A few weeks later I ran up there as my parents had a huge fight and sat in his sofa. Suddenly he was sitting next to me and before I knew what happened his hand was in my pants. His fingers was trying to get into my most secret parts.
He was using his upper body to keep me in the sofa and I felt like I couldn't move.

I felt shame afterwards. I blamed myself.

My body kept developing. At 9 I had breast, not big but enough so I wasn't able to hide them. To many of the men where I grew up felt they had a right to touch, "got to feel them apples".
This was done in the open, even with my parents around so it became something I hated and tried to avoid but I didn't do anything about it.

I always felt like I was an object, a thing you could do what you wanted with and spent as much time as I could in the woods and used to climb up on my rock.

They blasted half a mountain to make a road through my community and I used to climb that wall to get all the way up on top, a good place to hide. No one else dared climb there.

So far my bed are safe, apart from screaming and beating but that is about to change soon.

I start school

At first it was so much fun, I felt like I was going to get through the biggest adventure ever.

And in some ways I guess it would be that.

Only a few weeks of the first semester had gone by when some of the boys started calling me names, the abuse escaleted and after about a month I was terrified of walking home. Half way home they used to throw themselfs at me and beat me until I was covered in blood.

Then a short while later they did it in school to, their favourite thing was to tie me to the lamp post and throw small rocks and pieces of glass at me. By now the whole class was participating.

The teacher was standing there. Just looking. She and my mom was already in a fight so she took it out on me.

I stopped going there. Sat in the park for hours. I was 7.

There I met another girl that was subjected to bullying. She used to visit and elderly man on our streets during the days. Its not fun sitting out in the rain or snow.

I started following her there.

The old man was nice to us. We got cookies and sodapop.

He sent us to the store to buy grocerys and he payed us for it. Having our own money was great.

Alcohol

I know that children dont remember everything as they are but the way I remember things my parents used to be drunk every weekend. My dad used to get angry and my mom cried a lot.

He never hit my mom but the violence was there...I usually was the one at the other end of the hand striking.

I never knew what was going to trigger his anger.

Most of theese years are fuzzy but at age 6 I got another sibling, this time a sister.

I choose to focus my love on my siblings, they needed me and I loved them.

I learn to take care of them and watch out for them, in a way I was never able to do for myself.

I still to this day have a hard time with people being drunk, especially if they get angry. I tend to cover and hide. Both emotionally and physically.

Being a girl

All things changed when my brother arrived,

Suddenly my dad wouldnt take me with him to the garage. I was told to go out and play and stay out of the way.

My aunt and uncle that used to live with us was no longer there.

Nothing was the same.

I didnt understand a thing.

My parents started fighting a lot. I didnt know why, it only scared me. I was thinking it was cuase I was bad and that I had done something wrong.

I had been very sick since I was a very little baby. Lots of stays in the hospital. Now my parents got a perfect baby, a healthy baby and I was just trouble.

I was still sick but at least I didnt have to stay a week in the hospital every month.

I loved my brother then and I love him today. He never asked to be born and he didnt make our dad love him more. And not matter how hard I would try I could not be the son my dad wanted.

All things change

My brother is born in the summer....I remember the night he arrived even if people say that you cant remember things when you are only 2 and a half.....but I do.

I remember the trip to my aunt and uncles caravan. The road was narrow and the trees was growing closly on both sides of the road.

My dad let me ride in the front of the car, this was not common practice then and there was no such thing as a carseat.

We arrive at the caravan and I´m standing there, a bit nervous but not scared. My aunt and uncle lived with us until a few weeks ago. The let me into the trailer and shows me the sofa that folds out to a bed. I´m amazed and still to this day, that orange color reminds me of this evening.

I was only a little girl, I was so thrilled over the fact that I as going to have a sibling.

Little did I know that that would make everything worse.

The very beginning

It was a cold and grey night, the first snow of the year was falling from the sky and it made the roads very slippery.

At nine a clock in the evening I decided it was time for me to come to this world, it took a few hours of course. The first strange thing about me is that I´m born 11 hours and 50 minutes after my parents wedding...not the most common thing is it?

My parents was young and had been forced to marry since my father was doing his military service and my mom wouldnt get payed unless they actually married.

I think thats one of the reasons why some of the things that occured later happened.

My parents was happy at first. They loved their "goldielocks" and life was good.I was a very sick child though, spent a lot of time in the hospital with pneumonia and astma.
I used to follwow my dad to the garage and loved every second of it.

My aunt and uncle used to live with us so I had a double set of adults to be with.

When I was 2 and a half I became a big sister for the first time. I was so happy, I got the baby brother I wanted.

Little did I know that my life was about to change.

Who am I?