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Julie.

 

 

Well Dad, I'll never get to say these words to you as you've been dead this past 17 years. I did try to talk to you, many times,
but you'd never listen, would you? When I tried to tell you what my mother had done, the lies she had told about me,
the fact that she was sleeping with my exboyfriend who was only 16, the fact that she killed our pet dog, Butch, cos she wanted a
Yorkshire Terrier instead and she told you I'd killed it, well,
Dad, I wasn't even in the house when she did it, but as always,
you chose to believe her over me.

 

I remember so well the times in our later life, when I tried to talk to you about things, that you put up your
hands and told me to shut up, you said that you didn't want to know. Yes, Dad, just how much
DID you know?

 

    You knew the woman you married had personality problems, you even admitted that shortly before you died,
but we never had time to actually talk about it properly, did we? You died before we had the chance; almost like that woman getting her
own way again, wasn't it?
You knew she was jealous of me.

 

You knew she only adopted me because she wanted a little toy to play with, a little doll for her and that crazy mother of hers to take out of a
draw and play with from time to time, to dress in pretty clothes, to hug when she felt like it and then to beat me when I tried to be a 'real' child.
You knew she was lying when she used to say I was ill, you knew she was force feeding me and then making me drink
salt water to make me vomit.

 

You knew she was taking me to the doctor again and again with imaginary illnesses, you knew she was sleeping with half a dozen different men other than
you, you knew she was stealing money from you and blaming me for it, you knew all that, didn't you? And as I got older, you knew the marks on her body that she
told you I had done to her were her own doing, you knew I hadn't really attacked her, I was too afraid.
Yet you chose to ignore it.

 

You even alienated yourself from your own family, from your mother and father, from your brother and cousins just because that so called
mother of mine and her crazy family thought they weren't good enough. You deprived me of another set of grandparents,
deprived me of a family who were actually sane.

 

Yes, Dad, you knew all that, but did you know her father, the man I was made to call Granddad, had been molesting me since before I could even remember?
Did you know that, eh? Did you know that I told my so called Grandma? That she then went on to tell that wife of yours who then beat the shit out of me for
telling lies when all I did was try to tell the truth?
I often wonder how much you really did know.

 

   Did you know how scared I was of that woman they made me call mother? Did you know why I used to harm myself as a teenager?
Did you ever wonder why I tried to commit suicide at the age of 17? Did you ever wonder why I ran away from home? Did you not feel anything strange was
going on when your wife spent more time with that ex bf of mine than she did even with you? And what about that man who raped me when I was 13 eh?
Did you know about him? Did you know she was screwing him too and had been for years?
A family friend, yes, that was what he was supposed to be.

 

    Did you never wonder why he stopped visiting us? Well, it wasn't because he'd hurt me, it was because he'd been unfaithful to her by raping me.
Dad, do you remember that day when I was in hospital? The day I'd slashed my wrists so badly that I'd had to have a blood transfusion and 124 stitches?
The nursing sister said a relative must stay with me all night as I'd tried to kill myself, it was their policy.

 

She asked you to stay, but you said no, you couldn't leave my mother at home for that long. Remember? The nurse asked if there were any other relatives
to stay with me and you said no, which was true. Then you left me there, you went back to her, as you always did. You chose her over me every time and
you knew didn't you? You chose to ignore it and believe her lies and manipulations.   
  Yes, Dad.

 

Even when I became pregnant at fifteen by my boyfriend, the one she slept with, she said I couldn’t have the child and made me have it aborted,
I know you knew about that, you paid for the bloody termination,
didn’t you?

 

Remember when she was looking after me in my room? I was supposed to have flu, wasn’t I? My God, I know you heard those screams of mine,
I know she’d told you what happened. That woman who poked and prodded at me in her dirty little flat said it wouldn’t hurt much, she told me
I might just get tummy ache and start bleeding. HUH!
That was a fucking understatement.

 

    So it went on, though the sexual abuse had stopped, my grandfather was dead and that ‘friend’ of the family no longer called to visit,
but the abuse went on and on. In my memories and in the manipulation and lies she was so good at performing. She hurt me right up until the day
she died and even later by making sure she left me with nothing.

    You were obsessed with her, terrified of losing her, weren't you? I try to understand that, I try my best and I did love you, perhaps you were the only
one I did love then, I mean, occasionally we had some good times, didn’t we? Now and again, when she wasn’t with us we laughed and played together
as father and daughter should, but it was always short lived, she was never far away, never far enough away so
that she couldn’t come and stop our time together.

 

I did love you, but you threw it all back in my face, Dad, you let me down just as everyone else did. Dad, you let me down so much. Why?
I know you were only my adoptive father, perhaps you might have been different had we been blood relatives, but I doubt it. Dad, I love you still,
and I thank you for the bits of sanity you brought to that crazy household at times, but I can't forgive you for letting me down,
 

over and over again.  
Your daughter

 

Julie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer.

  

 

I would like to take this time to let you know that I am not a professional nor do I try to act like one,
I am simply running this website to help others get though what ever they are facing whether its current or in the past.

 

I am simply running this website as I have been though many different institutions in my life
time and thought that I would like to help others that may need help.

 

 

The facts and statistics that are on my website are those that I have researched and written in my own writing.
I have spend and still do spend time looking and reading all different books, research or website to help others
who are reading this website. I can give you the source of my research if need be as well just,
email me on 'contact us'.

 

Please bare with me while I am trying to update the website with
new pages and revising statistics.

 

 

The true life pages are of those who have contacted the page, with they own memory of what
they have been though, some have changed their names,
places etc. for their own protection.

 

 

Amy x