My Story


Before reading this page, consider the anger, the outrage and the feeling of the past. If you think that these pages may contribute to memories of your past then please find a member of your support system, someone who will be there with you if memories are triggered. Please know that it is unintentional, that we wish to contribute to the building of survivors strength.

This page is dedicated to survivors. Their lives are here for you to read about, the horror, the pain, and their feelings. Please note that these stories may trigger memories from the past .They are very emotional and powerful stories. It takes alot of courage to put your life into words for all to see. Many thanks to those who did.


I was born into an Irish catholic family in the North Of Ireland. I thought that life was the same for everyone at least for a while. When I began to question what my father did to me, he told me it was our secret, that if anyone ever found out that I would be taken away and put in a home. He was my dad. I believed him. Why wouldn't I? Is that not what we all to do, believe, trust and look up to those who are our parents? Well, I did, and we were brought up to respect and not answer back, to behave, to do well. I did that too.

The years of his constant touching, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, harassing me to go out with him so he had another chance to touch, his moods if I were not co-operating were unbearable, but I was to scared of what the consequences would be if I told. As I got older, and began to work with him in his business, the demands got worse, more abusive, more invasive. He filled me with alcohol, he did what he did, and then taught me how to control the alcohol before we went home.

I ran away once and told the police. He convinced them that I was a rebellious teenager who did not like to conform to the family rules! He was good at that, making people believe him, he was respected in the community.

He taught me to lie, to deceive, to be secretive, to go all out to get what I wanted, as long as it suited him.Two suicide attempts and I woke up to more abuse. There was no escape from this torment. Or so I believed!

As an adult, I went through life like a kamikaze pilot. From one disaster to the other, from one addiction to the next, being bulemic, alcoholic, thriving on the pressure of worrying situations I created, I needed that, I didn't have to think about me, who I was and what I was doing to myself. If things were calm I would have to create a problem, not necessarily my own, but someones that took my time and trouble to solve......sometimes, but rarely now, sometimes......I think I do that still......Who I was, was a direct result of his abuse, the ways in which he taught me to be.

Today, who I am, remains a learning process, but I am because of me. My mistakes now are my own, my decisions are my own. The pain of what my own father did to me, it will never go, but, I have moved on through the healing process and found me, my own identity and I live my own life. There are times when I wonder if everything I say gives the others around me an excuse to forget it, to have the chance to put blame on me where it is not needed or wanted............but we cannot blame them forever, there comes a point when we make our own decisions, the more responsible we become the better we are at making them we become.

I will never ever speak to this man, nor will I have him anywhere near my children. He has never once said he is sorry that he has been wrong. He has alienated me from my mother (in denial) from whom I yearned love.....we do not talk anymore either. She thinks I should be concerned when he is ill, that I should try to forget this happened and move on. I can never do that, at least not until all involved with the 'family secret' acknowledge they were wrong, the depth of the pain they have caused, their irresponsibility as parents, and even though it won't mean anything, make an attempt to say sorry. I have survived, I will thrive, but the burning question always remains: Why dad, how could you do this to your own flesh and blood, and mum, how can you so easily watch your child suffer in silence.!



My name is vicki. my abuse started even before I was born. My mom not
wanting to "get fat" when she was pregnant with me (she was a size 3)
took amphetimines(speed) to keep from gaining weight. I was born 3 weeks
late with an underdevolped imune, respirtory and ...........system. This
was due to my mothers drug use. I was 3 days old before my mother got to
see me. 2 months before my parents were able to take me home. (I found
out later that the hospital had not wanted to realease me to my parents.
But because they had money and power the hospital feared a lawsuit)
according to my mom I never cried as a baby. She would do things to make
me cry like stick me with pins and all I would do was whimper. My mom
says she never held me because when she did I would stiffen up. (she had
decided that I didn't like her) I know that my parents were gone quit
often as they both loved parties and traveling. I was sick quit often as
a baby until my immune system fully developed. At first I was taken to
the hospital everytime I sneezed but by the time I was 5 all visits to
the dr had stopped. I nearly died of tonsilitis when I was 7. (my
tonsils were so inflamed that i had 1 inch of breathing space left . I
was admited to the hospital that day and operated on that evening.) I
was emotionally abused by my mom, dad, grandfather and others that I
don't remember their names or faces. My mom loved to scare us by acting
like she was possessed and chasing us and draging us out of our hiding
places. I often blocked things out during this time and most of my
information comes from my sister (who is 7 yrs older) and from
processing work I have done with my therapist. Mostly what I remember
are darkensss lights hands and voices telling me it was my fault. My
mother would give me enema's and laxaitives (to clean me out) I would be
tickeled so horendously that it hurt. I don't remember how old I was
when my grandfather started sexually abusing me. He would spend the
summers and sleep in the same room as me and my younger sister. The
earliest abuse I remember from him was was 8 but I belive stuff happened
before that i have blocked out. The abuse went on for several summers
but to me feels like one long summer. I was 12 when I found out that my
parents had taken movie pictures of the abuse and were showing them to
their friends at partys. I've also been told that they (the friends)
would come into our rooms at night. My dad began driniking again when I
was 9 (he had been sober for 10 yrs before this) he was a very mean
person drunk. I had assigned myself the family protector. He sexually
abused my sisters and brother and would often terrorize everyone in the
house. Nothing was ever done right. Once he threw my brother (age 3)
across the floor my mom and my aunt just sat there watching the t'v. I
don't remember my dad ever sexually abusing me but I'm sure he did. I
know he tried several times when i was a teenager. I was 8 the first
time that I tried to kill myself. the second time I was 16 and had tried
also to drown my youngest sister. (my plans were to kill everyone) I was
drunk both times. For this reason I don't drink any alcohol.
I was 17 when I left home. I was emancipated so my parents had no say
over me. It took me many more years to break the bond emtionally. I
waited for the one thing I will never get. an apology. i love my parents
becaue they are my parents but I also hate them for what they have done
to me. I have a disoctive disorder (and was possibly mpd as a child )
have ptsd, anxiety disorder and dysthermia. I avoid social situations as
much as possible and tend to attack when I feel threatened.


 Being born with Klippel-Feil Syndrome had its challenges; being born with a dysfunctional family was a lot for any child to cope with. My father who had a hard time accepting not only who he was but he also had a hard time accepting his daughter's disability. After age 5, he committed suicide.

I grew up in a single parent family. My mother had an addiction problem. Not only the need for alcohol but also the need for men in her life. As a result, she had may many men who were not only abusive to her but also to us children.

My mother (and many of her boyfriends) and my brother were the main perpetrators in my life. As my memory enfolds the truth as to what happened to me when I was young, I am having to deal with it as best as I can. I am still healing from the traumas and the hurts in my life.

I am very fortunate to have few supportive people in my life. One of them is the church that I belong - The Salvation Army. When I was growing up, going to Sunday School and church was my freedom and that is how I managed to to have faith in God.

Someone recently mentioned to me that having a dissociative disorder is a protective function that God has given special people to cope with extreme and continual pain, both physical and mental. I believe that because when I was growing up I had others to deal with the pain and/or suffering that was happening. When I left home ten years ago, I went through a series of hospitalizations. I also had a bandaid solution of psychotherapies with a diagnosis of clinical depression and bipolar disorder. It wasn't until last year, when I found out that I had dissociative disorder, that everything made sense. I was blacking out and waking up in unsafe places, money disappearing, overusing credit cards, smashing dishes, and injuring people that I loved and cared about.

When I received the diagnosis, I had trouble accepting it and the first thing I did was research the topic. There was no informaton in my local library except through several medical/psychiatric dictionaries. But I needed more information. I ended searching though the internet and I found supports, reading materials and emailing lists. Since I have no real life therapist who can help me, I rely on IRC and emailing for help and support. This has helped me tremendously and, for that, I am grateful.



I am a 24 year old Australian survivor of multiple that I mean that I was abused by more than one person and suffered more than one type of abuse. I am told by therapists I am highly dissociative possibly borderline but not mpd or extreme......

Who knows? I know I am me and I AM a survivor. I am here ! and doing positive things to minimise the effects that abuse has on my life as well taking advantage of what it has taught me...I think also we survivors have some very special gifts, and although I never wanted to go through such a horrid experience it has made me who I am ! (And some believe I AM special..even I am starting to believe that :) As far as I know I was four when my grandfather molested me I do not know how long this continued for, the vague and hidden memories of this are more of a problem for me, than those that are vivid. He was a horrible old man that did gross things that I cant talk of much I have spoken of this very rarely and shake to even write about it let alone tell people. This is easy as with web pages write it and forget it exists!

My grandfather was caught in the act by my Nan but nothing happened I was shouted and made to feel I let him do it "disgusting girl".He only ever did it once more,I was older and he tried sexual intercourse with me. My father abused me sexually, emotionally, mentally, physically and used religion to excuse it all...there was a reason in the bible for everything he did..the minister knew about him and defended him in court. Spiritual abuse I call this abused religiously and my spirit was abused too.....but they didn't get my soul! He started when I was 6 or 7 I think but then when one stopped and other started is bit mixed up as are my feelings.I tried to tell when I was ten but no one listened or believed me. He did not have sex with till I was 11yrs old then it got lil more involved and I made to do much more. I took this till I was 13 and a half and could take no more I told again.

I took him to court one of the hardest things I have ever done...not that I remember mostly now just bits as with everything in my life its all a jigsaw and I have only some of the pieces. The court case took 2years and he ended up getting a plea bargain...I at the age of 15 had to decide whether or not to accept it..I was told it would be easier b4 I made the decision so I took it.....he was sentenced 2yrs and served 10 months....after id decided police told me jury would have given him 10 years at least.

So now I believe I was also a victim of the system I was not given any rights as a child victim as it was b4 cameras and screens and I had to face him court and the only question that I do remember as it broke my facade and made me face reality was "how big was your fathers penis" I knew but could I answer?? Obviously not!The solicitor was warned not to say it again he did 3 times and was nearly thrown out of court "nearly" he should have been!
And then in between them my uncle had sex with me once.Which as you can see I cant talk about, that's as much as I can tell you right now. As with the guy that raped me when I was 21,both ways, that's all I am willing to admit about it right now. Now I am married to a wonderful man my life has changed enormously and I am begging to heal properly and grow again...I found reason to want to stay in the real world,to feel my feelings (good and bad), to be
aware of my behaviour and how it effects others.To enjoy life and good things we must also experience and feel not so good things otherwise there would be no comparison..My two fav quotes are... Restlessness and discontent are the first necessities of progress. - Thomas A. Edison ..

When the fight begins within him/herself, a person is worth something. - Robert Browning

I have learnt so much about myself and still have so much more to learn and live..I AM so glad that I AM a SURVIVOR

Cyberfilly aka Robyn Biar.

Iris Springflower

Hi. My name is Iris Springflower. I was not born with "Springflower" as my last name (I want to not use my parent's last name--too painful!). Anyway, Iris is my real first name and "Springflower" is REAL for ME. Iam a survivor of severe, prolonged, repeated, multiple abuse (sexual,physical, emotional and everything else). I am in therapy with a good, caring therapist now. I was diagnosed with PTSD, Major Depression, Panic Disorder, and many phobias--ALL DUE TO THE ABUSE! My mother was my first abuser. She hurt me in ALL ways! She TORTURED me in fact! Here are some of the things she did to me:Tried to KILL me several times in childhood,humiliated, scapegoated, beat, Constantly called me names such as "Selfish Bastard Pig", held knives at me, sexually molested me(YES THERE ARE FEMALE PERPETRATORS TOO),and neglected me. No, no authorities intervened in my behalf and my father was the non-protective parent. He lived to SERVE her! They are both dead, of natural causes (disease) mow. The memories of her abuse live on. Due to my parents' neglect of me (besides the filthy clothes I was made to wear--more on how THAT affected my school life later), I was left alone to wander on the streets of Brooklyn, NY, from age four on. Well, dark basement (with me crying in TERROR for HOURS, screaming to be let back into the apartment, and pounding on the door. All this for my wanting the normal love and nurturing that a child deserves). So (this was in the 1960's--I was born in 1956) I was sexually assaulted, molested, amd abused by MANY different adult men from the neighborhood. They threatened me to "not tell", which I didn't. Besides WHOM could I have told? My MOTHER?! I FROZE in fear of them while they sexually assaulted me repeatedly, over a prolonged period of time. I can't count the number of them. There were so many! Plus some of them would keep coming back to me while I was in those doorways, such as the one below my parent's second apartment and also in the doorway with the ful length mirror where I would play alone. I had NO real friends my own age, either! Just my brother (who did NOT abuse me). Part of the neglect was that besides living in a FILTHY apartment(my parents told us kids to "not let anyone inside or they'd be witnesses against us" constantly), I was sent to school in filthy, unkept clothes. ALL of the other kids called me names like "contaminated" constantly, plus the SHUNNING and assaulting me. What about the teachers? I have recently obtained the actual school records: They wrote,"Iris is an extremely withdrawn child. Needs to be FORCED to participate". So HOW did they force a little frightened girl out of her safe, private fantasy world that she withdrew to to get away from the HORROR of her life? THEY HUMILIATED ME IN FRONT OF THE CLASS and forced me to hold hands with a boy who always BEAT and tormented me! The school records do tell of the teacher's comments of my neglected appearance, and of their constant effort to get my parents to "take part of the burden(their word to describe ME)". They comment on my parents' REFUSAL to cooperate with them. So why didn't they report my parents to the appropriate authorities? Why didn't the two hospitals, when I was admitted at the age of eight and stayed for two months because my mother hit me on the lower back with the net bag full of metal rollerskates report her for child abuse? Instead they returned me toher! I couldn't walk for a time due to the PAIN! At least I receivedmore care in the hospital than I did at "home"! Later, as a teenager, I was so desparate (my mother held knives at me) that I ran away from home to join the "hippies"--WHAT A MISTAKE THAT WAS! As far as I am concerned now, the hippy movement was an excusefor sexual abuse perpetrators to get at young girls and boys! MANY, many different adult men in the hippy movement sexually, physically, and emotionally ABUSED and assaulted me for MANY years, well into my young adulthood! They beat me to CONTROL me--to get me to submit to their sexual assaults. As a teenager, they drugged me (like when they gave me LSD and gang raped me at 15). I took their drugs then for their "acceptance", to stop the PAIN I felt, too! I was already severly traumatized! I STOPPED accepting ALL illegal, mind altering drugs at age 20. SINCE then, I have been OFF of the drugs. I am 41 now. I HATE those drugs! I was deceived into thinking I'd find "peace and love" in the hippy movement. What I REALLY found was more people to ABUSE me and betray my trust! I have LEFT the hippy movement! I was so STARVED for care, true love, nurturing and affection! I still am but I have to protect myself! Better to be lonely than abused. So that is a lot of my story. There is much more, especially the details of the abuse, but it would take MANY pages to do so. Sorry, I don't have a "success story" to give you. I suffer thelong-term affects from the abuse. The flashbacks and nightmares are HELL! The PAIN is UNBEARABLE! I am NOT suicidal at this time, but I have attempted it so many times in my life! I am enveloped in depression a lot. Still, here are some of the ways I try to COPE: I am creative. Always have been. I love arts and crafts, especially fiber arts. I handweave a lot. I make bags, scarves, and belts and I donate MOST of them to charitable organations who help abused children and adults. My reward is knowing that some other abused child or adult will receive a handmade gift from me to show them that SOMEONE CARES. I CARE! I also write to survivor pen pals--mutual support.I write a lot, in fact. Poetry and stories based on the abuse and trying to recover from it. Like I am doing now. I have fallen in love with the tv show "Highlander". The main character, Duncan MacLeod, is a caring, compassionate man who fights injustice and helps people. I KNOW he'd help ME! I have NO sexual interest in him. I imagine him to be a teacher, helper, friend, and even the nurturing parent I didn't have. He is a young looking 400 year old Immortal(watch show for details on THAT). Plus he is NOT abusive! This is NOT an advertisement for "Highlander". I am just sharing how FANTASY has helped me. I used fantasy as a child to survive. While I looked "withdrawn" to those teachers, I was in a SAFE, pretty place with lots of caring friends and adults and it was beautiful! Fantasy helped me to keep on living. It gives me HOPE! The "real world" was HELL for me.

So that's how I survive now.

There are many more to follow, please bear with me as I get the stories updated. Many thank to those who have contributed. To send your story, please email and mark the email *My Story*