I always thought that parents were to protect, nurture, guide, love and accept. I had always wondered why did I not have that for the first 15 years of my life. I often wondered, why my parents were so cruel to me. Why family members loathed me and especially why my brother hated me so much. As I grew older I came to the very understanding that my parents, nor my family didn't love nor cherish me as I always new that I did not fit in.

Authors Note: This chapter contains some graphic material that may be to grahic to endure. Please I wish to CAUTION the reader that this is true. This happened to me when I was between ages 6 and 15 years of age. This is not for the faint of heart. Please do not read if it will upset you.

I often wondered why me? As I sat in School and daydreamed why I was placed in a situation I had no defense against. I look back years later as I am writing this for my book, why? I believe that it was understood by taking many courses on family and psychology and sociology that family was to be there for one another. I always thought that parents were to protect, nurture, guide, love and accept. I had always wondered why did I not have that for the first 15 years of my life. I often wondered, why my parents were so cruel to me. Why family members loathed me and especially why my brother hated me so much. As I grew older I came to the very understanding that my parents, nor my family didn't love nor cherish me as I always new that I did not fit in.

I remember all the severe beatings I endured and to this day those physical scars remain on my body as a constant reminder of my past. It was a nightly occurrence that either my dad or my brother would sexually assault me. My dad more than my brother. He would have my blow him til he came in my mouth and then literally rape my behind til I was raw. My mother I believe chose to ignore all the cries and whimpering that came from me. I believe that my dad enjoyed his sessions with me. One particular session, he literally beat me while he raped me. He tied me to the bed frame with straps that he brought into my room. He raped me so bad that I bled for a week afterwards and that is what drove me to attempt suicide. I found a bottle of sleeping pills that my mother had for her insomnia. I took the whole bottle (about 20 pills) and passed out. When I woke up, I was bleeding from my rear and my mouth was stitched up. My guess was that my father or my brother beat me and raped me while I was asleep and I woke up in the emergency ward.

The rapes continued every night after I had arrived home about 15 days later. I so hated myself. I questioned why I was being punished. I looked to the lord for help and not receiving any answers to my prayers I lost my faith and trust in god. The abuse just did not stop there. My brother would set me up and blame me for things I never did. One such incident occurred while I was in school and he had skipped the day feigning illness. I was supposedly placed his rifle loaded on the washing machine before I left for school. My defense was I was already at school when this alleged incident occurred. I was subsequently hauled by my hair and shirt collar to the barn and whipped severely. I have to say that I was dressed in androgynous clothing. I had long flowing red hair(which I still have to this very day). I was tied up and severely whipped with the bridle and reigns. I was left to bleed and cry I did. At nights I was dressed in nightgowns that were once my mothers and some I had been given. I slowly began to build up my wardrobe as I was constantly being dressed anyways. My ears were pierced when I was 7 years old by ice and a long sewing needle. The belief that I was wanted was becoming more and more a fantasy for me. I knew I was adopted and my brother was natural born. I remember years later watching Sesame Street and the wall with all the same objects on it except one. I knew I was different, I knew I did not belong.

I was continually abused and raped nightly. There was no remorse. God forbid that in small town Canada on the prairies that you ever spilled your private life. If you did you were ridiculed and especially a child. Whereas the parents could claim innocence and denial. You either learned to deal with it, or you just ignored the problems. I went to church and I for one could not say anything as the preacher of the church was very good friends with my parents. I was ignored and very quiet, I was always shy. I never had friends in school and was picked on because of my androgynous appearance. (this was a time where abused children were ignored when they spoke out, not like today where children have a lot of rights. I was constantly picked on, raped violently and punished for things I did not do. I did however find some solitude with my 4H activities and my horse that I was constantly around when I was not being abused. There were some happy times. Those were when I was left alone to read and listen to music and secretly dress in my accumulated small wardrobe that was beginning to get larger as the months passed. I also at that time, I was 8 I began to feel funny in the chest area, I did not bother to tell my parents of this feeling, I thought I would just ignore it. I later discovered I was secretly been given estrogen from my mothers birth control. I was horrified. I could they do this to me. What had I done so terribly wrong to deserve this life? what did I have to contribute? I lost all sense of self worth, self esteem, and zeal for life. I had no friends and those I thought were my friends were not.

As the weeks went by and those turned into months, I slowly began to wonder if I could die, that way no one would miss me. It was obvious that no one loved me, nor wanted me. I was alone. I prayed that nor more rapes would occur, that prayer went unanswered. I also prayed that I would find the strength to fight back, that to ended up falling on the lord deaf ear. My self worth and esteem were so depleted that I began to feel that I needed to die. I attempted suicide again on my 9th birthday while I was in school. I had smuggled a knife from the barn (to cut bales). I went to the washroom and sliced my wrists across the veins, not lengthwise(I was so naive, I could have ended it right then, there had I known). I remember waking up in hospital, strapped to the bed with IV tubes in my arm. I was under suicide watch. I later learned that my PARENTS, conveniently lied to the hospital officials saying that I was depressed over not getting awards and high grades in several of my classes. I spent the better part of 5 months in hospital and went through my first bout of psychiatric care. At 9, sheesh! I began to tell...........