BORN IN HELL VIDEO SERIES
This Video section contains detailed explicit and graphic details of the abuse I endured at the hands of my abusive parents and sibling. I speak openly about all the abuse and the devastating effects it had on me growing up. These videos detail the physical abuse, child sexual abuse, verbal abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, spiritual abuse I suffered growing up abused. I detail graphically the damage to my body from the physical assaults I was made to endure until age 17 by my parents as well as the child sexual abuse, child rape, incest, and sodomy I suffered repeatedly at age 8 yrs old by my 21 year old brother and the damage done to my body, mind, soul and spirit. Please listen at your own discretion. The topics of abuse are very sensitive and this information can trigger survivors of abuse, as well as cause people to become uncomfortable. Anyone under the age of 18 years old must have parental or adult consent to listen to my audios or watch my videos. I believe that children should be protected at all times. Make the right decision for yourself.
This Video section contains detailed explicit and graphic details of the abuse I endured at the hands of my abusive parents and sibling. I speak openly about all the abuse and the devastating effects it had on me growing up. These videos detail the physical abuse, child sexual abuse, verbal abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, spiritual abuse I suffered growing up abused. I detail graphically the damage to my body from the physical assaults I was made to endure until age 17 by my parents as well as the child sexual abuse, child rape, incest, and sodomy I suffered repeatedly at age 8 yrs old by my 21 year old brother and the damage done to my body, mind, soul and spirit. Please listen at your own discretion. The topics of abuse are very sensitive and this information can trigger survivors of abuse, as well as cause people to become uncomfortable. Anyone under the age of 18 years old must have parental or adult consent to listen to my audios or watch my videos. I believe that children should be protected at all times. Make the right decision for yourself.
Born in Hell Womb to 4 years old
This is part 2 of the introduction of my newest website "BORN IN HELL". This series will provide background information of what is to be born into abuse, dysfunction, mental illness, domestic violence and it is my hope that survivors of abuse will reach out and get help, and that the public at large will begin to understand what is to grow up abused and why it is vital that we all get involved to save children from a life of hell. I am the youngest of 7 siblings. I grew up being abused from birth in a home filled with domestic violence and abuse, mental illness, psychological illness, dysfunction, suicide, drug abuse, sibling abuse, and complete horror. My parents were abused as children and each had their own set of issues before they were married. My mom was abused physically, emotionally, psychologically, and verbally by her mother. My dad was emotionally and psychologically abused by both of his parents. My dad was abusing my mother before they were even married, but my mom married him anyway to get out of her mother's house of hell. My parents then had 6 children, all born in Canada. My dad was in the DOT, Department of Transport in WWII, a radio operator for the North Atlantic Air Force and Navy. My siblings were born wherever my parents were stationed at the time. My mom attempted to divorce my dad early in their marriage due to the abuse he was inflicting on the children, and her. The courts dismissed the case because at that time in Canada, you could not divorce for any reason other than infidelity. My mom stayed with my dad because she had no where to go, no job skills, and several young children to try and take care of. She did not want to go back to her abuser mother's house.
My dad decided he wanted to move to New Mexico, USA and 5 years later I was brought into the world by c-section. I was 3 months early, premature and had to go into an incubator until I was at a healthy enough weight and healthy enough to go home. My nurse named me. My mom was in a coma and did not even know I was born. I was born from marital rape. My dad had been raping my mom for years, forcing her to have unprotected sex, in order that she become pregnant. My mom was told not to have any more children after my brother Howard was born as my mom's health was so bad. My mom carried two babies full term who were delivered still born before I was born and my sister Kathi. I was not wanted and when my parents brought me home, they said "welcome to our hell, welcome to our hell", which is the same thing they had told all their children upon arrival.
My dad continued to abuse my siblings and my mother, and my mom continued to abuse all of her children too. My parents were arrested and charged with child abuse and neglect after my brother went to school beaten up. The authorities got involved and my parents were arrested and had to go to court. My dad had beaten my brother Rob badly, and he told the authorities he was afraid to go home. My mom made it look like it was all my dad's fault and that my dad was the one who was beating the children and her. My older siblings spoke up in court and told the judge that my mom was also physically abusing all the children as well. My mom begged the courts to let her keep her children and not to remove us from their home. The courts agreed but only if conditions were met. My parents were court ordered to attend individual counselling, marital counselling, family counselling, as well as counselling for my siblings. I was 2 years old at this time and I do not remember the court proceedings.
My parents were diagnosed mentally ill, psychologically ill as well as some of my siblings. My dad was diagnosed schizophrenic, with borderline personality disorder, and my mom was diagnosed manic depressive, which is bi-polar. My brother Rob was also diagnosed bi-polar at this time. My parents attended two counselling sessions. My siblings advised that there were no other sessions attended. CPS was involved and used to come for regular visits to check on us. I remember a man and a woman coming to the house with clip boards, and they would remove my clothing and check for signs of abuse. They would then have my mom dress me and give me a sucker for behaving so nicely. I enjoyed their visits because they would smile at me and touch me softly, and say nice things to me. They signed off our case when I was 3 1/2 years old and the abuse started all over again.
My dad decided he wanted to move to New Mexico, USA and 5 years later I was brought into the world by c-section. I was 3 months early, premature and had to go into an incubator until I was at a healthy enough weight and healthy enough to go home. My nurse named me. My mom was in a coma and did not even know I was born. I was born from marital rape. My dad had been raping my mom for years, forcing her to have unprotected sex, in order that she become pregnant. My mom was told not to have any more children after my brother Howard was born as my mom's health was so bad. My mom carried two babies full term who were delivered still born before I was born and my sister Kathi. I was not wanted and when my parents brought me home, they said "welcome to our hell, welcome to our hell", which is the same thing they had told all their children upon arrival.
My dad continued to abuse my siblings and my mother, and my mom continued to abuse all of her children too. My parents were arrested and charged with child abuse and neglect after my brother went to school beaten up. The authorities got involved and my parents were arrested and had to go to court. My dad had beaten my brother Rob badly, and he told the authorities he was afraid to go home. My mom made it look like it was all my dad's fault and that my dad was the one who was beating the children and her. My older siblings spoke up in court and told the judge that my mom was also physically abusing all the children as well. My mom begged the courts to let her keep her children and not to remove us from their home. The courts agreed but only if conditions were met. My parents were court ordered to attend individual counselling, marital counselling, family counselling, as well as counselling for my siblings. I was 2 years old at this time and I do not remember the court proceedings.
My parents were diagnosed mentally ill, psychologically ill as well as some of my siblings. My dad was diagnosed schizophrenic, with borderline personality disorder, and my mom was diagnosed manic depressive, which is bi-polar. My brother Rob was also diagnosed bi-polar at this time. My parents attended two counselling sessions. My siblings advised that there were no other sessions attended. CPS was involved and used to come for regular visits to check on us. I remember a man and a woman coming to the house with clip boards, and they would remove my clothing and check for signs of abuse. They would then have my mom dress me and give me a sucker for behaving so nicely. I enjoyed their visits because they would smile at me and touch me softly, and say nice things to me. They signed off our case when I was 3 1/2 years old and the abuse started all over again.
Born in Hell Age 5 to 6 years old May 30 2016
This is a series of videos I am creating for my website BORN IN HELL looking at the abuse, dysfunction, domestic violence in our home. This video is expounding upon my life in the abuse from when I was 5 and 6 years old. The abuse and family violence and domestic violence in my home from age 5 to 6 years old was horrific. My parents were beating on me and my siblings, the CPS, Child Protection Services had signed off our case and we were left in the home. My older brothers were using drugs in the home and my dad was attempting suicide and had been for years. My dad raped my mom in front of me one night, which scarred me for life and caused me to fear intimacy, to hate my body and to hate being female. My dad had been raping my mother for years causing her much physical damage and both of my parents were extremely mentally ill and took their anger and hatred out on all of their children, including me. I was beaten on a regular basis by my mom. She used to drag me around, beat me with belts that she had hanging on our kitchen wall. I was back-handed into walls, to the floor, across the room on a regular basis by my mom and my dad would beat me with his belt as well. My dad was going to beat me for not listening to him, and dragged me by my leg through a hallway to my bedroom and pulled my hip out of place, threw me on the bed and began to beat me with his belt. This hip injury has caused me problems my entire life, it was a lifetime physical injury, and there would be many more.
Born in Hell Age 7 to 8 Graphic and Explicit Content
EXPLICIT WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING: this video is part of a series of videos for my website Born in Hell. Please watch at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind bother you, please do not watch. I detailed the years 7 to 8 growing up abused and the details are graphic. We were living in "Hell House" during this time. My brother Chess was murdered, my brother Rob went into a depression, my dad thought the authorities were going to charge him with the murder because he had been abusing his family from the time my parents were married. My dad was still attempting suicide, still threatening to kill the family in a familicide situation. My mom's mental health went downhill at this time due to depression from Chess's murder. My brothers Rob and Howard were doing massive amounts of drugs at this time and my dad was still marital raping my mom. I became a convenient "punching bag" for my mother at this time. My mom was beating me with heavy objects as well as belts and her fists. I have detailed much of this abuse in my poems which are mainly written from my inner child at this age, 7 to 11 years old. These were the years we lived in Hell House and the abuse I suffered during this time scarred my mind, my heart, my brain, my body and my spirituality. I was still trying to be a little girl, playing with my barbies and trying to have fun while my mom beat me every chance she got. I began to shut down at this time and realised that I was actually nothing to my parents but a punching bag, and to my siblings I was a bad kid, a nuisance who needed to be beaten on. I became the "black sheep" scapegoat that my siblings used in order that my mom's abuse would be directed at me instead of them. My siblings rarely stepped in to help me and were actually responsible for many of the beatings I received from my parents.
Born in Hell Ages 8 to 9 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the Born in Hell Video series regarding the abuse I suffered as a child at the hands of my parents and a sibling. This video details the CSA, Child Sexual Abuse and Incest I was forced to endure at 8 years old. This video is EXPLICIT and GRAPHIC and I advise that you watch at your own discretion. The topics of child abuse and child sexual abuse can make people very uncomfortable and can trigger survivors of abuse. Please make the right decision for yourself.
Born in Hell Ages 9 and 10 Graphic and Explicit Material
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. Life for me was a continuation of hell. My mom was still abusing me every chance she got, beating me with belts, her fists, or any heavy objects within her reach. When I was 9 years old my mom had to have major surgery due to strangulated hernias. We had to go to the hospital to say good-bye to her just in case she did not make it. The doctors gave her a 50% chance of surviving the surgery. My mom did live and came home to recuperate. One night, during the middle of the night, I woke up as I could hear my mom getting upset at my dad. He was in her room and she was telling him to leave the room. I thought my dad was going to rape my mom just after she had surgery so I grabbed my big, pink jumbo plastic baseball bat and went in behind him in the room. I yelled at him to leave mom alone and smacked him in the back of his head as hard as I could. My dad proceeded to slap me, back hand me, and threw me across the room into the wall. My neck and back hit first, and then my head and I slumped to the floor nearly knocked out. I could not see clearly, just stars and was disoriented. My dad then began to curse me and kick me. My brother Howard came and got me out of the room away from my dad. My mom did not care that I tried to protect her, and continued to abuse me after she recovered. In the photo below I just turned 11 years old. My mom had beaten my face severely in October, 2 1/2 months before this pic was taken. She broke my nose, busted my lips, and left huge, raised welts on my cheeks. The beating she gave me rearranged my face and took a long time to heal. The family that took me to see Santa Claus had to beg my mom to let me go. She told them I was a "rotten bitch" and that I "did not deserve to go see Santa Claus". They finally convinced her to let me go with them to take a picture with Santa at the mall.
Born in Hell Ages 11 and 12 Graphic and Explicit Material
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. This school photo is from 7th grade, I was 11 years old. That year my mom had been abusing me severely, burning me in the oven as well as beating me in the front yard of Hell House in the summer time with a belt. She had pushed me down into a cactus patch in the front yard and beat the back of my legs until they were bloody. The belt was whipping up dirt and dust and many people saw the beating and did nothing to stop it. I sat in the bathtub after that beating, and pulled the cactus needles and thorns out of my hands, arms, knees and legs. I had been made to endure horrific beatings from my mother mainly, but my dad was also very abusive toward me. This was the last year we lived at Hell House. We lived there for 5 1/2 years and the abuse I suffered there, ALL OF IT, scarred me for life, physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and I really felt that I was dead, I was a walking shell and it was from this time forward that I would hate life and plan to end my life on a regular basis until the age of 42 years old.
Hell House
Born in Hell Ages 12 and 13 Graphic and Explicit Material
.This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. This pic was taken when I was 12 years old. This year my brother Rob, who had abused me sexually at age 8 to 9 years old, attempted suicide by slicing his arms up his veins. He called my mom to tell her he was committing suicide. My mom put me on the phone with him while she went across the street to use the neighbours phone to call for help as my brother was in Canada. My brother who was 25 at this time, began to tell me how much he enjoyed using my body sexually as a child. He began describing just how much he enjoyed "F'ing" me and how sensual and soft my skin was against his. I was in shock as I held the phone, I began to shake and my heart was pounding because I knew he was talking about what he had done to me when I was 8 years old. I remembered the sexual assaults, the violent raping of my body as I was tied up, gagged and tape put over my mouth. My brother was saved that time and my mom brought him home to stay with us while his arms healed up from the suicide attempt. I was afraid that he would rape me again and he threatened to rape me if I did not stay away from him. This abuse caused me a life time of hell and pain as well as the abuse my mom was inflicting on me and my dad. My dad began to beat me across the face with his belt buckle at this time. He would shove me against a wall and force his knuckles into my ribs which would automatically cause me to use my hands to try and get his knuckles out of my ribs which caused me extreme pain. He would whip off his belt and pull it back and beat me across the face with the belt buckle end of the belt. I began to curse at him and tell him I hated him to his face which would then give him an excuse to throw me to the ground and beat my back and legs with the belt. At this point, I did not care anymore and wanted to die.
Back on La Veta next door to the house we used to own
Born in Hell Ages 13 and 14 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. This pic is my school pic from 9th grade. It was the next summer at age 13 when my mom beat me with the rolling pen in the kitchen, cracking my skull and beating my back, neck, shoulders, ribs until she had no energy left to continue the beating. When she finished beating me, I got up off the kitchen floor and was heading to safety in the living room and my mom spun me around, called me a "fucking slut" and spit in face. I looked at her, I was dizzy, disoriented, could not see, ears buzzing, blood from my cracked skull running down my neck, and I did not know who I was looking at. This could not be my mother I thought to myself. "She must be the devil, or my enemy, but this woman could not possibly be the mother I love" was rolling around in my mind. She shoved me out the door and slammed the front door behind me. I went to my friends house and her parents stepped in. I asked not to be removed from my home. My parents had never thrown any of my 6 siblings out for any reason. Even though they were drug users, thieves, Rob had raped me for a year, my brother Howard had a knife to my sisters throat and threatened to kill her, and my parents never threw them out of the house. My mom had been throwing me out of the house since I was 10 years old and I wanted her to take care of me, to stop hurting me, to love me, to do the right thing by me. This is why it was so important for me to remain in my home. I detailed this beating and a lot more information in my book "A Life of Death: The Redemption". The results from this beating with the rolling pen and having a heavy solid kitchen table shoved into my ribs caused damage to my body and skull, as well as all of the previous beatings and future beatings I would receive. I had a bad car wreck at age 18, in which they had to do full body x-rays checking for broken bones and internal damage to my body. At this time, the specialists revealed to me that the x-rays had shown multiple fractures to my skull in different places, neck damage, cracked and fractured ribs, separated ribs, as well as the hip injury, fractured coccyx and CSA, child sexual abuse. They advised that the damage to my body had been done years before, as these were the old fractures revealed by the x-rays. They asked me if I had been abused at that time. I was over 18 years old and it was up to me to press charges. I was in shock at the time and did nothing about it, as well as I did not care if I lived or died at this time. The same thing happened to me when I went to see the gynaecologist at age 21 in which I had filled out the forms saying I was a "virgin" and had never had sexual intercourse before with anyone. They explained the damage to my body, the scar tissue, and advised that I would probably never be able to become pregnant, or even carry a child, even with reconstructive surgery. I explained that the person who had done that to me was my brother who had raped me from 8 to 9 years old when he was 21 and that he had committed suicide the year before when I was 20 years old.
The Rolling Pen Beating in the Kitchen
Born in Hell Ages 14 and 15 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. In this video I describe the continuation of the abuse in my home, the domestic violence between my parents who were always fighting. My brother Howard was still living at home at this time, using massive amounts of drugs and overdosing during these years. He actually died on our kitchen floor one day and the paramedics saved his life in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He went into a coma and woke up 3 weeks later with mild brain damage due to the overdose and being clinically dead. My mom continued to verbally abuse me, slap me around, and throw things at me. My dad was still beating me with his belt buckle across my face, and I used to curse at him and tell him I hated him to his face, he would then throw me to the ground and beat my legs and back with his belt. I hated my dad at this time and did not care. He was still attempting suicide at this time and as always, he continued to come into my room at night and tell me he was going to kill the family and himself because we were all from the devil. My dad was still attempting to rape my mom and I was in the 11th grade. This was my life. My best friend Arlene was killed, hit by a car and I was devastated. After her funeral, I sat in the back yard cursing God for leaving me and taking her. I was the one who was dead, who wanted to be gone and not living. I could not figure out why God would leave me in this hell house with people who did not care about me and just wanted to hurt me, and would take my friend away from a family that loved her. I had a big problem with God after this time and already had issues with him because of the abuse anyway. My heart was broken and I sank into a depression. My mom was highly abusive toward me because I was not allowed to feel anything, and because I was down and missing my friend, my mom used any excuse she could to beat me and kick me around.
Born in Hell Ages 15 and 16 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. Two months after my friend Arlene had been killed, hit by a car, that summer I met a new "best friend" Dianna and we began to hang out every day. She lived 2 blocks from me, was 2 years younger and I had never hung out with her before. My friends Arlene and Des were gone so I began to hang out with Di and the neighbourhood kids on my block. That summer I suffered two beatings from my mom and dad. My mom had beaten me severely for something the neighbour kids had done that I had no part of. She wrenched my arm and knocked me to the ground on my knees, kneed me in the face with her knee and began to slap me, backhand me, punch me. I was on my hands and knees protecting my head and she continued the beating, punching my back and pounding me with her fists as hard as she could. She cursed me and kicked my side as hard as she could several times. When she had finished beating me she went into the kitchen and threw a fit, called my oldest sister Irene to tell her how much she hated me, hated my attitude, wanted me out of the house, wanted me gone and wanted to kill me because of all the trouble I had caused her. I got up off the floor and went to my room to see what damage was done to my face again. I could not defend myself or I would receive another beating so I just stayed in my room listening to my mom talking to my sister about how bad I was.
Within a few weeks of that beating my mom gave me, my dad beat me with a branch from a Spanish Broom plant we had in our side yard. My friends and I were having fun chasing each other around with that branch and my dad came around the corner and saw me chasing a neighbourhood boy who lived across the street. My dad decided to "teach me a lesson" and grabbed the cane from my hand, knocked me down face up in the dirt side yard and whipped my legs with it putting me into convulsions from the pain. My dad was 6'5" tall and weighed about 250 lbs. He was ex-military and did one handed push ups in the morning. When he decided he had inflicted enough pain, he broke the cane over his knee, threw it on the ground next to me and went into the house. My friends were across the street, they left when he started to beat me.
One week after this beating from my dad and the previous one from my mom, my parents were having another one of their regular domestic disputes at night. I could hear my dad slap my mom and my mom screaming at him. I was laying on my bed listening to them fight. I was thinking to myself, "why should I care? why should I go help my mom? The two of them just finished beating the crap out of me and why should I care? Let them kill each other, see if I care!" but I could not stand to listen to my dad slapping my mom and my mom crying out. I heard a big crash and I went out to see if I could get my dad to leave my mom alone. My mom had bashed my dad in the head with a huge, heavy ceramic lamp we had in the living room. My dad had blood pouring from the gash on his head. He still had my mom up against the wall and I approached him, telling him to "leave her alone!". He let go of my mom and grabbed me by my arms. He shoved me as hard as he could across the room into my bedroom wall. My head and back hit the wall and I slumped to the ground, dazed and almost unconscious. My mom pushed past my dad and said to him, "if you ever touch me again, I will kill you!!" and went into the kitchen. My dad went to his bedroom and I was laying on the floor again, in so much pain, wondering why I bothered to protect my mom from my dad, when she had been beating me, burning me, cursing me, allowed my brother to rape me? It was because it was the right thing to do. I got up off the ground and went back to my room with a massive headache and backache. This was my life. My mom never thanked me for trying to protect her from my dad even though she knew I suffered beatings at his hands to do so, and suffered a life time of skull, neck, and back damage from being thrown into walls by him.
Within a few weeks of that beating my mom gave me, my dad beat me with a branch from a Spanish Broom plant we had in our side yard. My friends and I were having fun chasing each other around with that branch and my dad came around the corner and saw me chasing a neighbourhood boy who lived across the street. My dad decided to "teach me a lesson" and grabbed the cane from my hand, knocked me down face up in the dirt side yard and whipped my legs with it putting me into convulsions from the pain. My dad was 6'5" tall and weighed about 250 lbs. He was ex-military and did one handed push ups in the morning. When he decided he had inflicted enough pain, he broke the cane over his knee, threw it on the ground next to me and went into the house. My friends were across the street, they left when he started to beat me.
One week after this beating from my dad and the previous one from my mom, my parents were having another one of their regular domestic disputes at night. I could hear my dad slap my mom and my mom screaming at him. I was laying on my bed listening to them fight. I was thinking to myself, "why should I care? why should I go help my mom? The two of them just finished beating the crap out of me and why should I care? Let them kill each other, see if I care!" but I could not stand to listen to my dad slapping my mom and my mom crying out. I heard a big crash and I went out to see if I could get my dad to leave my mom alone. My mom had bashed my dad in the head with a huge, heavy ceramic lamp we had in the living room. My dad had blood pouring from the gash on his head. He still had my mom up against the wall and I approached him, telling him to "leave her alone!". He let go of my mom and grabbed me by my arms. He shoved me as hard as he could across the room into my bedroom wall. My head and back hit the wall and I slumped to the ground, dazed and almost unconscious. My mom pushed past my dad and said to him, "if you ever touch me again, I will kill you!!" and went into the kitchen. My dad went to his bedroom and I was laying on the floor again, in so much pain, wondering why I bothered to protect my mom from my dad, when she had been beating me, burning me, cursing me, allowed my brother to rape me? It was because it was the right thing to do. I got up off the ground and went back to my room with a massive headache and backache. This was my life. My mom never thanked me for trying to protect her from my dad even though she knew I suffered beatings at his hands to do so, and suffered a life time of skull, neck, and back damage from being thrown into walls by him.
Born in Hell Ages 16 and 17 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. This photo was taken in October, after a beating my mom gave me in front of my BFF Di. I was 15 years old, 2 months away from my 16th birthday. I was in 12th grade. My BFF Di was 13 years old. My friend watched my mom punch my spine as hard as she could, knocking me down two sets of stairs into my bedroom, and then as I lay on the ground, my mom began to back hand my face, slapping me, punching me, pulling my hair and kicking me all the while screaming at me and calling me names. My friend told my mom that there were laws against child abuse. My mom let me go and turned to my friend telling her to get out of her house. I left the house after my friend, slamming the screen door several times and yelled at my mom, "you wanna beat me? you wanna beat me? you wanna beat me? Go ahead!! I'm sick of it". I slammed the door one more time and said, "You wanna beat me?!! "I KNOW YOU DO!!! NO MORE!" and ran to catch up with my friend who had began to walk home to her house. I spent the night on her couch that night and would spend many nights on her couch after that until the age of 19 years old.
Born in Hell Ages 18 and 19 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. I discussed the last half of my 17th year, my mom was still back handing me and actually attacked me at work one afternoon. After she hit me, the ladies in the office stopped her from continuing the beating on any further. Our boss found out and warned my mom that what she had done was inappropriate at the office and I was too old for that kind of treatment, and that my mom should try talking with me instead of hitting me. That was the very last time my mom ever hit me, or ever attempted to hit me or inflict any physical abuse toward me again. The verbal abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse continued on. That never stopped until the day she went into a coma and died. My friends and me were doing massive amounts of drugs and drinking and smoking massive amounts of pot at this time. I was high all the time, that was my way of keeping all the abuse, they physical abuse from my parents, the child sexual abuse, rape, sodomy by my brother Rob, stuffed into a little drawer in which I keep it there so I can cope. The drugs made that so much easier. I was still unwanted, unloved, not being cared for and abused by my parents, it just wasn't physical abuse anymore, it was just as painful and hurt just as bad. I did not care if I did too many drugs and overdosed, and I did not care if I ended up dead in a car wreck and I drove fast and dangerously every where I went. I had a bad car wreck at age 18, in which they had to do full body x-rays checking for broken bones and internal
damage to my body. At this time, the specialists revealed to me that the x-rays had shown multiple fractures to my skull in different places, neck damage, damage to my jaws and face, cracked and fractured ribs, separated ribs, as well as the hip injury, fractured coccyx and CSA, child sexual abuse. They advised that the damage to my body had been done years before, as these were the old fractures revealed by the x-rays. They asked me if I had been abused at that time. I was over 18 years old and it was up to me to press charges. The same thing happened to me when I went to see the gynaecologist at age 21 in which I had filled out the forms saying I was a "virgin" and had never had sexual intercourse before with anyone. They explained the damage to my body, the scar tissue, and advised that I would probably never be able to become pregnant, or even carry a child, even with reconstructive surgery. I explained that the person who had done that to me was my brother who had raped me from 8 to 9 years old when he was 21 and that he had committed suicide the year before when I was 20 years old. After the car accident I could not move out with my friend Di, I was broke, had to pay my doc bill, hospital bill, buy a new used car, and was in a cast for one year and crutches for two years. I had one year of physical therapy to go to after the cast came off and had to pay for that too. I was hoping to move away and get free from my pain and my past by the age of 20. During this time I was in our friend Tammy's band and sang back up vocals, which was such a blast. But my friends and I are doing heavy drugs at this time and that took all of our time and interest. We were heavy drug users by the time I was 19 years old. I was never looked after properly and so I did not look after myself. My parents hurt me, so, I hurt myself.
damage to my body. At this time, the specialists revealed to me that the x-rays had shown multiple fractures to my skull in different places, neck damage, damage to my jaws and face, cracked and fractured ribs, separated ribs, as well as the hip injury, fractured coccyx and CSA, child sexual abuse. They advised that the damage to my body had been done years before, as these were the old fractures revealed by the x-rays. They asked me if I had been abused at that time. I was over 18 years old and it was up to me to press charges. The same thing happened to me when I went to see the gynaecologist at age 21 in which I had filled out the forms saying I was a "virgin" and had never had sexual intercourse before with anyone. They explained the damage to my body, the scar tissue, and advised that I would probably never be able to become pregnant, or even carry a child, even with reconstructive surgery. I explained that the person who had done that to me was my brother who had raped me from 8 to 9 years old when he was 21 and that he had committed suicide the year before when I was 20 years old. After the car accident I could not move out with my friend Di, I was broke, had to pay my doc bill, hospital bill, buy a new used car, and was in a cast for one year and crutches for two years. I had one year of physical therapy to go to after the cast came off and had to pay for that too. I was hoping to move away and get free from my pain and my past by the age of 20. During this time I was in our friend Tammy's band and sang back up vocals, which was such a blast. But my friends and I are doing heavy drugs at this time and that took all of our time and interest. We were heavy drug users by the time I was 19 years old. I was never looked after properly and so I did not look after myself. My parents hurt me, so, I hurt myself.
Born in Hell Ages 19 and 20 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. I discuss in this video that after my car wreck I focused on working, paying my bills off, getting a used car because I had wrecked my Chevy Nova at age 18. During these two years I worked 2 and then 3 jobs, while on crutches. In order to do this, I had to use massive amounts of speed to stay awake. I only slept about two to three hours a night because I was working a day job, a graveyard job, and a weekend job. I was still partying with my friends and still living at home with my abuser parents. My friend Di moved in with her new boyfriend who was abused as a child and had severe anger issues. He was a serious drug user, shooting up speed balls and we began to do massive amounts of drugs that he supplied. They did not get along and fought all the time and my friend Di's boyfriend became physically abusive toward her, beating on her. My friend Di was tough, grew up in an abusive home as well and she fought back. She was still getting the worst end of the beatings. I feared for my friends life, but she was determined to stay with him. After a serious drug party went bad, I decided that I had had enough of the abuse and violence as her boyfriend threatened to kill me, slamming me up against a wall, choking me and threatening to kill me. I told him to go ahead and kill me, because he couldn't kill me, I was already dead. I turned 20 and my brother Rob who had sexually abused me committed suicide. He hung himself. He was a cocaine user, but that was not his main problem. His main problem was that he was born to two parents who held him in their hands and told him, "welcome to our hell" at birth. I was not surprised that he killed himself, as he had attempted suicide many times before and he finally made it. My mom was upset because I did not show any emotion after she told me they found his body and it was suicide. I told her that it was their (my mom and dad's) fault that he was dead. They allowed him to do drugs as a young boy, they abused him, they beat him and that it was just a little too late for tears. My mom did not make an issue about me not going to my brother's funeral. I had put all that child sexual abuse in a drawer, and it was still there and I did not care at this time that my brother killed himself. I did not care about him at all. My brother raped me for a year from 8 to 9 years old, tied me up, gagged me, put tape over my mouth, raped me, sodomized me, and used me as his own personal sex toy for a year, ripping my vagina, damaging my uterus, and causing me to have an infection that could have killed me. I bled for months and he continued to rape me, even knowing that I was in so much pain and bleeding, and that my hip was out of place from my dad dragging me by my leg and twisting my hip out of socket when I was 6 years old, he made it even worse. He caused me so much pain and caused me to hate my body, hate being a woman, hate sexuality, and caused me to shut down, no one touches me, no one gets close... ever... I did not care that he killed himself, because he did not care that he killed me.
Born in Hell Ages 20 and 21 Part 1 Graphic Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. My brother Rob had committed suicide when I was 20 years old, he was 33 years old. I did not go to the funeral and I discuss in this video that I was continuing to do massive amounts of drugs, was partying all the time, and working full time. I still wasn't taking care of myself and was still living at home with my abuser parents. My parents were less physically violent toward each other at this time due to their age, but they continued to verbally batter each other and scream and shout at each other. My mom's health at this time was very bad and I tried to help my mom out as much as possible. My best friend Di is still living with her abusive boyfriend, and after a bad violent night out partying, I decided that I needed to get off the drugs. I was 21 years old and had been smoking pot since I was 12 years old, doing heavy drugs since I was 15 years old and I was tired of the violence and started to feel that my life would end up the same as my brother Rob, either I would commit suicide or I would end up a drug user in the gutter as an adult. I decided to tell my friends that I could no longer hang around with them because I would continue to use drugs and I broke off from them. I stayed home and watched television, travel logs, and began to become drug free. It took me a year to get off the drugs. I met a guy through a pen pal club, and we hit it off. We talked on the phone and we corresponded for about 6 months and he decided he was going to come down to New Mexico to spend time with me to see how our relationship would go. I was so excited about this relationship and decided I needed to get on the pill just in case we decided to have sexual relations. I went to the gynaecologist for my first check up in order to get on the pill. The lady gynaecologist during the exam was getting angry, becoming upset, walking away and then coming back, and I was thinking she was a horrible doctor and rude and I was angry at the way she was behaving toward me. After the exam was over and I got dressed, she brought my chart with the results of the exam and she began to talk to me. She said "So, you wrote here on your chart that you are a virgin?" and I said, "Yes, I'm a virgin, I've never had sex with anyone" and she said, "well, honey, I got news for you, you are no virgin. You can say that all you want to, you are an adult, 21 years old and if you want to say you are a virgin, that's up to you. We see the damage, the scar tissue, it's child sexual abuse, rape, and you have so much scar tissue that you will probably never be able to become pregnant. You can get on the pill, it's probably a good idea, but the chances of you becoming pregnant, it's just not going to happen. If you do become pregnant by some miracle, you will probably not be able to carry the baby without having reconstructive surgery and even then it may be impossible. If you want to press charges, that is up to you, but we are reporting it as CSA." I was sitting there listening to this, upset, but not crying. I told her that it was my brother who was 21 years old, I was 8 and he raped me for a year. I told her I would possibly have pressed charges after hearing this from her, but my brother who did this to me had killed himself the year before when I was 20 years old, and he was 33. She just touched my shoulder, was practically crying. I told her that it was just my life, and I would be okay and deal with it. I left, got my pills, and went home to my abuser parents apartment that we had moved into after leaving the La Veta block behind at age 19. I went to my room and did not tell anyone about the gynaecology check up. I just closed my bedroom door, and the tears began to flow, silent tears. As the next few weeks rolled by I was very excited about this guy coming to see me. I felt in my heart that I loved him and I hadn't met him in person, but we became so close just talking on the phone. When he arrived, it was all I thought it would be.
Born in Hell Ages 21 to 27 Part 2 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. This is part two, a continuation from Ages 21 to 27. My dream of my "perfect man" was over within a year. I had turned 22 years old, and my relationship with Mark had turned sour. I found out that he had been sexually abused by his dad when he was a child and physically abused as well. He began to abuse me verbally after the first 6 months we were together and he also began to become violent around me, hitting cupboard cabinets in his camper when we were out on weekend trips together. He never hit me, but he wanted to, so instead he punched the cabinet by my head. I had never dealt with my own anger issues and I began cursing him, calling him names, and throwing things around the camper. We decide to call it quits as he felt he was going to hurt me. He drove off, never looking back and my heart was broken. My dream of my "perfect one" was over. I continued to live at home with my abuser parents, and working with my mom until I hit the age of 25. I went to cooking school for one year and then at the age of 26 got a job in the Grand Canyon, Arizona for a one year contract. I went to the Grand Canyon with the idea that I could end it all. I could end the pain. I rarely talked to anyone while working there and had almost committed suicide several times. It was just a matter of stepping on the gas peddle of my car and going over the edge, never to return. Something always stopped me, and so I sat outside after my shifts late at night on a tiny balcony, looking at the stars, and cried, grieved and hated myself, hated my life, hated what my parents did to me, to each other, to my siblings. I hated my body, I hated being a woman, I hated being vulnerable. I hated the abuse I suffered, and the body memories of my brother raping me as a child. My one year contract in the Grand Canyon was over and I went back home to New Mexico to my old abuser parent's place.
Born in Hell Ages 27 to 28 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. After returning back home from working in the Grand Canyon, I found another job, and was getting ready to go back to cooking school to complete the program and graduate a Red Seal chef. I was working and saving money, and trying to help my mom around the house as much as possible. I was a loner, and had very little contact with people and no real friends to hang out with. I was not seeing anyone and not looking to go out on dates. I was still so shut down from the child sexual abuse and still hated my body and hated being a woman, and still trusted no one. My parents were still arguing and fighting but they were seniors now and my dad had stopped abusing my mom and trying to rape her. He left her alone, while my mom continued to throw things at my dad and curse him every chance she got. My mom was still getting her "digs" in with me when she could, and she enjoyed berating me and running me down, that had never changed. My brother Howard died in a homeless shelter in Calgary, Canada from a drug overdose. He died on his birthday, April 8th, alone, unwanted and unloved. Four months earlier he had phoned. I answered the phone and was surprised to hear my brother's voice. I had not spoken with him since he left for Canada when I was still a teen. He wanted to come home for Christmas and I set the phone down to see if my mom would pay for half of the plane ticket and I would pay for the other half. He was homeless most of the time his whole adult life in Canada and had a rough life, was a major pill popper and overdosed several times. My mom told me that she was not going to allow him to come home because she could not control him and he would just cause her trouble. I told my brother that we did not have the money for his plane ticket to come home. It broke my heart. I did not want to tell him that his mom did not want to speak to him, did not want him home. He was sad and told me to take care of myself and hung up. My brother Howard witnessed most of the beatings I took from my mom and had tried to intervene twice to save me from her. I loved my brother so much. He died alone, knowing that his mom and dad did not care if he was alive or dead. They abused him, allowed him to use drugs as a young boy, allowed him to drop out of school, continued to beat him and mistreat him. He had stepped in as a young boy to protect my mom from my dad and was beaten for it. He had gone out to the freeway as a young teen to stop my dad from killing himself. My parents, however, had done nothing but hurt him, abuse him, and set him up for a horrible adult life. He was dead. My brother Kevin had called, I answered the phone and he told me that Howard had died of an overdose in a shelter, and gave us the funeral date and information. I had to go tell my mom at her workplace, knowing how this would affect her. She was so upset and crying her eyes out, of course, because she could cry, we were not allowed to cry, only her. I was angry because we could all come up with the money for the plane tickets to go to his funeral, but my mom would not cough up the other half of a plane ticket for my brother to come home for Christmas, which I think would have saved my brother's life. I did not press the issue, because I was trying extremely hard not to be "my mother". My dad, mom, sister Kathi and myself went to Canada for his funeral. When we came home, the very first night back, my mom was up in the middle of the night getting a glass of water, had a stroke, fell and broke her hip. Her health was so bad at this time, she was 67 years old, and I knew this whole thing would take a toll on her health.
Born in Hell Ages 28 to 29 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. After my brother Howard's funeral, my mom's health went downhill. She had fallen and had a stroke and broke her hip and had to have hip replacement surgery. My mom was so miserable and depressed at this point that she reverted back to her old "self" and began to curse at me and my dad. She sat at the kitchen table, depressed, trying to recover from her surgery, she would not do her exercises and my dad and I were doing everything we could to help her out and nothing was good enough. Because my mom was hurting, she was going to make sure that we were hurting too. My dad tried to help her out at this time, and she picked fights with him every chance she got. One night, after dinner, my dad was doing the dishes and my mother began screaming at my dad and starting a fight with him. My mom began throwing things at my dad, cursing him. I was in the living room listening to them fight again, and I could not believe that they were still continuing on in their insane manic behaviour towards each other, and I got angry. I went to the kitchen and screamed at them, "LISTEN TO YOURSELVES, WOULD YOU JUST LISTEN TO YOURSELVES?!! LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO YOUR CHILDREN!!" I began to name all of my siblings from my sister Irene, Kevin, Rob, Ches, Howard, Kathi down to me. I wanted them to see the damage they had done to us through our lives and take responsibility for it, own up to it. I was so tired of listening to my mom screaming at my dad, and my dad cursing at my mom. I was so tired of listening to their sick and twisted sexual banter between them. I started throwing my own things around the living room and breaking my things to make a point. My dad came into the living room to see if he could get me to calm down. I told him to leave the living room because I did not want to hurt him, like he hurt me. He left the room. I continued to trash the living room, while my mom sat in the kitchen wailing and balling and crying her eyes out. I finished breaking my stuff and went to my room to calm down. My mom went to her room and laid down and sobbed. I gave her some time to calm down and went into see if she was okay. My mom said to me that she hated her life and should have just killed herself years before and I had heard this from the time I was cognitive, at the age of 4. I wanted to console my mom but at the same time I wanted her to own up to whether or not she truly loved her children and wanted us. I told my mom that there had to be something in this life that made it worthwhile; that her children should count for something. My mom rolled over and looked at me and said she never wanted any of us. I had heard her say to me that she did not want me my whole life, I was a worthless, piece of shit rape child she never wanted in the first place. I told her that all of her children loved her very much, and she turned and looked at me and said we were all worthless and none of us meant "a shit" to her. I was becoming more and more angry by the minute. I could not believe that she and my dad had put us through all of this abuse for nothing. I told her to "tell me that we counted", and she looked at me and said, "none of you counted". My mom and dad could have let us go when they were arrested on child abuse charges. My mom used to dangle this in front of us, that she had "begged the courts not to take her children from her, they were all she had" and it turned out that she never wanted us in the first place, and the only reason she kept us around was so she wouldn't look like a bad mother. She wanted the courts to think she was a good mother who wanted her children. She beat and tortured, burned, punched, kicked and pounded me for nothing, allowed my brother to rape me for a year and got me no medical attention ever from the sexual assaults, from the beatings she gave me, from my head being caved in as I was thrown into walls and cabinets. I realised at this time that what I had known all along was TRUE, she really did hate my fucking guts, and I was really just a punching bag for her. What angered me was that none of my siblings meant anything to her. She was just using us. I left the house for the night and went to a hotel. I phoned my sister to tell her what had happened and in the middle of the night at the hotel room, I get a call from my dad that my mom had hurt herself and had to go to the hospital and I should meet them there. I went to the hospital and my mom was in a wheelchair, with a towel on her head. My sister and dad were standing by her, and my mom looked at me and said, "I'm going to tell them YOU did it!" and I looked at her and said to her, "Go AHEAD! I'll tell them about what you did to me!" and she replied, "they won't believe you, they'll believe me, I'm an old lady" with a smirk on her face. My dad told the doctors the truth. After I left the house, my mom got up from her bed and threw herself into her dresser and hurt herself. I realised at this time that my mom was truly my enemy, and began to love her less and less every waking moment. I could not believe the years I had spent trying to help my mother, adult years that I should have been getting my own life together, trying to help her, and trying to win her love and care. She used me, she used all of us, and we were nothing to her but what she could get out of us. We had been played, and betrayed, the ultimate betrayal.
Born in Hell Ages 29 and 30 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. After my mom had completely destroyed my heart, telling me that she never wanted any of us, we did not count, and that we did not matter to her, I decided I had to move far, far away. I decided to move to Canada, because I had dual citizenship and I proceeded to get all my paperwork done, documentation complete and packed my few belongings in storage. I was ready to make my final cut, and move on and begin my life as an adult for the first time. I told my mom and dad I was moving to Canada and my mom was attempting to con me into staying. She could not use the old ploy of crying and pleading with me to stay and help keep my dad from raping her, because my dad was not attempting to rape her anymore. The only thing she could think of was to try and guilt me into staying in order to help her stay alive. She told me several times during the four months that passed while I was preparing to move that if I left, she would die because my dad would not help her get what she needed to stay alive. I did not fall for it. She did not want me to stay in order that we might build our relationship or learn to love each other and get along, she wanted me to stay so she could continue to use me. I told her I had to go. The day I was leaving for the airport, my mom was sitting at the kitchen table, not looking at me while I talked to her. I told her that I loved her, that I had always loved her. I told her that it was my turn now to get my life going and that I had to go. I kissed my mom on the top of her head because she would not look at me. I left, and arrived at the airport, boarded the plane, sat down and put my seat belt on, looked out the window, and breathed a heavy sigh. It had all been too much. All of the abuse, the manipulation, the con games, the torture of my mind and body had all been too much. I was tired, exhausted and emotionally drained. I went to Canada to stay with my brother and his wife in Alberta. I found a job within three weeks and was excited about getting my own life started for the first time at the age of 29 years old. Within a few weeks of working as a cook's helper on a railway tie maintenance crew train, I began to become attracted to the lead cook. He was handsome, friendly, very polite and very mature. We had been getting along so well at work and I knew he liked me too. We began seeing each other and after another few weeks rolled by, we were a "unit" and officially together. I felt that I could trust him, and because I had been sexually abused as a child, had difficulty allowing him to get close, but I was so needing to be held, to be loved, to be a woman. The CSA/incest that I suffered as a child caused me to break down and cry and become upset when Cecil would try to get close, and I had to fill him in a bit about the abuse because he knew I had been hurt by someone. He held me, consoled me, and treated me with kindness, love, care and was so gentle with me and my feelings. It was so good to have him in my life and we were really enjoying our time together. Within a month after we started seeing each other, we both were injured while working and had to get off the train to go to Edmonton for treatment. Cecil was going to have to stay in Edmonton and have surgery, and my wrist was in a soft cast from tendinitis and would be for about 3 months. Cecil wasn't sure if we should try and stay together in Edmonton or just go our separate ways. I wasn't sure either but we decided to split the cost of a motel near the hospital for one month to see how our relationship went. We really enjoyed each other's company so much. He was lonely before he met me, and I was so in need of someone to love me and just hold me and want to spend time with me. We knew that we cared about each other but were not sure if it was a lifetime relationship. The first week in the motel, I had a nightmare about my mom abusing me and woke up crying, shaking, and yelling out loud that my mom abused me. Cecil woke up and just held me, consoled me and listened to me as I told him about some of the abuse she inflicted on me. He had already seen some of the scars on my body, but he did not know the extent of the damage done. I really needed someone to hold me close, to comfort me, to not let me go. After our month at the motel was up, we decided to move into a furnished apartment together and give our relationship more time to develop. This was all new to me, but I was willing to give it a try.
Born in Hell Age 30 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. Living with Cecil in Edmonton was a new experience for me. I had only been away from my abuser parents for 6 months and here I was, living with a guy I had met at work. I still had a soft cast on my wrist, and things were going good in our relationship. Cecil was scheduled to have surgery within a couple of months and I began looking for an office job, something I could do with my injured wrist. At the age of 29, just a few months from my 30th birthday, I discovered that I was pregnant. This was a huge surprise for me, because I was told that I would probably never be able to become pregnant or even carry a child. I went to the doctor to find out and sure enough, I was pregnant. I was very happy about being pregnant and it had always been a dream of mine to have children. I was nervous though because it would be my first and with the scar tissue and damage to my uterus, the doctors had told me to be prepared, just in case I could not carry the baby. I was hopeful that it would all be okay and began to enjoy having Cecil's and my baby in my womb and the feeling of being a mother for the first time flooded me with immense joy and inner happiness. Cecil was not overly happy about the situation. He had two sons with his ex wife in England, and even though his relationship was estranged with them, he loved his sons very much. He was not overly enthusiastic about having children at this stage in his life, but he could see how happy I was about the situation, and was happy to be the father of this baby in my womb. We decided that we could handle anything that would come our way, including raising a child together. I turned 30 in December and by the first week of January I began to spot and was feeling quite sick. I had a feeling something was wrong and at this point I was 4 1/2 months into the pregnancy, mid-term. I began to bleed more and more and at this time Cecil had recovered from his surgery and was offered a contract job up north in the Yukon. It would be his first opportunity to work since the summer before and he felt he needed to take the job. I did not want him to go, because I was bleeding and might possibly lose the baby, I wanted Cecil to be with me. We did not know anyone in Edmonton and there was no one I could rely on for support there. Cecil took the job and left me to deal with being sick and aborting the baby. I called my doctor and she advised that if the bleeding became more serious, to get to the hospital. I did not go to the hospital and over the weekend, 2 days after Cecil went to work, I went into full labour and aborted the baby. I was so sick and so emotionally ill and did not cope at all. I just dealt with it at the apartment by myself. A few days later I went to my doctor and they did not have to do a DNC, as the baby had gone down the toilet. My heart was broken, I was angry about Cecil not being there for me, I was so devastated about losing the baby, and I was very much alone. I began to question my decision making processes, and wondered how I had even let myself get into the situation I was in. I phoned Cecil at the oil drilling camp in the Yukon and told him that he had 4 hours to get home to me or I was leaving him. Cecil pleaded with me to give him time to get home, and not to leave him. I gave him no choice, knowing that there was no possible way for him to get home to me within 4 hours. After we hung up, I immediately shut everything down, packed my few belongings, called my brother to tell him I needed to stay with him until I could get myself situated and within 4 hours, I was gone. I went to Tofino, Vancouver Island, BC, and worked there for a few weeks. I needed to collect myself, to heal from losing our baby, and try to get stabilised. While I was in Tofino, I phoned Cecil to tell him that our relationship was over and he was free to move on and to have a good life. Cecil was so hurt that I left him, he agreed with me. Another couple of weeks passed by and my dad called to tell me that my mom was very sick, in the hospital and was dying. I went down to New Mexico, and saw her for a few hours before she went into a coma. She was happy to see me, held my hand in hers and told me that she was sorry I had lost the baby. It was hard to know that she was probably dying and this time she would not be coming home from the hospital, but would be moving on to her eternal home. She said very few words, but kept repeating over and over, "I was just a horrible mother" and looking so sad and downtrodden. Irene, Kathi and myself, her three daughters tried to comfort her as best we could. I told her that all of her children loved her very much and she just kept repeating that she was such a horrible mother. My sister Irene suggested that Kathi and myself go to get some supper and let our mother rest, and when we came back an hour later my mom had slipped into a coma. She passed away a few days later. My sisters, me and my dad all went to say our last words and goodbyes to our mother who had passed on. I went to sit outside in the sunshine, and as I sat there, a strange calm came over me. Never again would my mother be able to hurt me. She would never ever be able to hurt me in any way, shape or form, the abuse from her was over, it was over, I thought to myself. She would never be able to hurt me again.
Born in Hell Ages 30 and 31 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. My mom had passed away, and I stayed for the funeral. My dad's behaviour was extremely bizarre at this time. He was acting like he had just lost the most precious thing in his life. He was running around, falling on the floor and acting like he just loved her so much, and that he had just lost his best friend. My sister Kathi and myself noticed this, but decided that he must be dealing with his wife's death the best he could. My dad took Kathi and me with him to the funeral home to pick out a casket and get things set up for her burial. I told him that our mother wanted to be cremated, and she had asked me to make sure that he did not change it to a burial because of his own beliefs. My dad became upset when I mentioned that to him, raised his voice and began to yell at me, becoming very upset. I told him not to be upset, that I was just telling him what she told me, and my dad began to shout at me and to become very upset. I began yelling back at him and cursing at him. He was too old to hit me now, and I was no longer that small girl who he could abuse. I was too old and too big. I decided to tell him exactly what I thought. My sister was telling us to calm down and relax and the funeral director came in and heard our family argument going on, and left the room embarrassed. I decided to calm down. I told my dad that he could try fooling people by putting on a $20,000 funeral for my mom, but that there were too many of us that knew the real reality of the way he had treated her. My dad finished preparing the funeral arrangements and we went to her funeral. There were so many people there, they were all so sad and crying for the loss of my mom. They would approach me and tell me how sorry they were that she passed away, and I would think to myself, "I'm sorry too, but at least the abuse is over now", but I would not tell them that. This funeral was hard for me because my mom was my abuser and I had a hard time trying to look sad about her death. I was actually relieved, she was at peace, which brought me some relief, and the fact that she would never be able to hurt me ever again brought me even more peace. After the funeral I visited with some friends and then went back to Canada. I did not go back to Tofino, and instead went to Calgary. I stayed with a friend of my brother's for 3 weeks, got a job right away at a busy pub, and saved my money to get an apartment. It was the first week of May, and for the last 5 months I had been under a lot of stress, I lost my baby in January, I left Cecil and ended our relationship, was working in Tofino, Vancouver Island, in British Columbia and then in April my mom died, and during this time had no real place to live. It had been a difficult period of time for me, but I was determined to make it. I got an apartment in Calgary, and as I got my keys and went inside and closed the door, I finally felt like I could relax and breath a bit, but at the same time, it was actually just the beginning of a new nightmare.
Born in Hell Age 31 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. The first few months in Calgary were all about getting as many hours at work I possibly could in order to make my rent payments and bill payments. I enjoyed the job at the pub and was getting some great experience there. After work I would go home late at night, and sit on my sleeping bag on the floor that was on top of my clothes for extra padding. I had nothing in the apartment except what I brought in which was my duffel bag with my clothing, my alarm clock, my cassette player and music. It was an unfurnished apartment but I didn't care. I was happy to have a roof over my head that I could call my own. I began to grieve my mom's death at this time. Calgary is the city that both of my brothers committed suicide in. I walked by the place where my brother Rob hung himself in his apartment. I looked up at the building and all the windows, but I don't know which apartment he was in. I walked by the shelter where my brother Howard died of a drug overdose. This brings back some sad feeling I had for my brothers, but I just deal with it. I made a new friend working at the pub. She was a few years older than me and basically took me under her wing at work because she knew I was on my own in Calgary and did not know anyone. We hit it off and were beginning to enjoy our new friendship. But all the while, after work I would go home, plunk down on my sleeping bag on the floor, and grieve the loss of my mom. At this time, I had no idea the amount of emotional, psychological scarring my parents and brother had caused me. I realised that because my mom was gone, my inner child was screaming out in agony and grief because she knew that she was never going to get what she needed from her mother. She would never be held by her mother, she would never be loved by her mother. She would never hear the things she needed to hear from her mother. I realised that this small person was me from childhood, and I was grieving the loss of what I would never receive from my mother and there wasn't any other mother who could do this for me. I began to have flashbacks and nightmares about the abuse. I had very few nightmares about the abuse before my mom died. This was all a new nightmare. The abuse that I had tucked away neatly in the drawers was starting to boil, and an inner rage began to well up within me, and I knew that abuse would explode out of those drawers at some point. I just worked and continued to grieve and try to keep the abuse from spilling over the drawers during this year, and at the same time I began to realise that I truly loved Cecil and I thought about him the whole first year in Calgary.
Born in Hell Age 31 through 35 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. After realising that I truly loved Cecil and cared about him, I decided to take a chance and call him to see if he was still living at our old apartment in Edmonton, and if he was single or if he was in a relationship. I was so nervous as I picked up the phone to call him, thinking to myself that he might reject me, or have a girlfriend, or just not want to have anything to do with me after I broke up with him. To my surprise he answered the phone. We spoke about my mom's death and he told me that he did not have anyone else in his life except one person, me. He waited for me to call him and had saved all of the things I had left behind when I left him. I told him that I was still grieving my mom's death, but otherwise I had been working in Calgary and things were going okay. I told him about the fact that I could not stop thinking about him since I left him, and that I truly loved him and cared about him. We had a great time talking on the phone and Cecil asked me if he could come and visit with me for a day or a couple of days and we would talk and see if we could start our relationship over. I told him yes, and was so excited about him coming to see me. He arrived and we had a great time together. I told him I loved him, and was sure of my feelings about him. He told me that he loved me from the beginning and realised that I was the one for him shortly after we began to see each other. At this point, Cecil asked me if I thought it would be a good idea, he would go back to Edmonton for a few weeks, and give me time to think about our relationship and that if it was what I wanted, that we should try again, because he loved me. He wanted to give me lots of space and not scare me because I had just left him for a year. running from the relationship. I continued to work at the pub and think about getting back together with him, and decided that we should try again. Cecil began to make preparations in Edmonton to move in with me in Calgary. A few days before he arrived I began to panic and become anxious. I was afraid that I wasn't making the right decisions, and began to worry that at some point he might hurt me, or I might run again. I knew that when he arrived, we needed to sit down and have a serious heart to heart talk. He arrived and after I made him something to eat and he had time to relax, I told him we needed to talk. I explained why I had left him, and that I was sorry for hurting him and blaming him for not being there for me when I lost our baby. I told him everything about my past, the child abuse I suffered at the hands of both of my parents, the child sexual abuse I suffered at the hands of my brother, the dysfunction, the domestic violence between my parents, my own destructive behaviours and drug abuse as a teen, and the fact that I don't know how to receive love or care, and that I do not know how to trust anyone, including myself. I told him everything and explained just how wounded I was, and that I needed someone in my life who could deal with my own dysfunction and who won't abuse me and hurt me further because I could take no more abuse from anyone. I explained that if we were going to be together, then it had to be through the good times and the bad, that we would need to make each other's lives better, and to be there to help each other with everything. I told him that if we were just going to hurt each other, then we needed to call it quits right now. He agreed, and then he had his opportunity to tell me what he felt was important for me to know. He said that I had hurt him by leaving him, because he loved me and that he would never hit me, or abuse me. He was sad because I did not trust him, because he is a trustworthy person. He explained his past and agreed with me that we needed to be there for each other to help each other to the end. He said that he would definitely watch his words around me now that he knew just how wounded I was and how horribly abused I had been growing up. We started our relationship again, and I was so extremely happy to have him back in my life, but now with my own boundaries set, and it was so amazing to be with him again. I never become pregnant again, but for the first time, in my entire lifetime, I got to experience real love.
Born in Hell Age 35 through 40 Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. The years rolled on and Cecil and I were enjoying our lives together. I left the pub after I began to burn out in the kitchen and began to work at a bank, and was enjoying my new job. Michelle and I were still really good friends and spent a lot of time together running around downtown Calgary together. She was really my best friend and was always doing so many nice things for me and Cecil. Cecil was still working up north in the bush. He was lead cook at the camps up north in the Northwest Territories and the Yukon. He would be gone all winter long, and home during the summer. When he was gone, working up north, I would miss him terribly and was thankful to have Michelle in my life. By the time I hit 35 years old in December 2000, my sister decided that she wanted to move up to Canada in order to get away from our abusive dad. She had let him live with her and her daughter Kimberly after our mom passed away and he was driving her absolutely crazy. I told her to think about the move carefully and to make sure that Kim's best interests were involved. She said she would think about it. January 2001 rolled around and Cecil had to go back up north for another contract position, and before he left he noticed that his legs were swelling up, basically double the normal size that they were. He began to get sick but he decided to go up north anyway. Just a few weeks after he went north, I received a phone call that Cecil had become ill at work and they had him airlifted by air ambulance to the hospital in Peace River. They kept him there until he was stable and then flew him to an Edmonton hospital and then brought him home to Calgary by ambulance. He was in the hospital for a week before being released to come home. They had run tests and could not find the problem that caused him to become so sick. Cecil had many more tests done by specialists and he was told he had to go for the test results on Valentines day, February 14, 2001. By this time I had a car and I drove him to the hospital. It was the special services building where they diagnose and treat cancer and other deadly diseases. I waited in the car for Cecil while he went to see the specialist. Cecil and I did not go with each other to doctor visits and so I sat in the car, freezing my behind off, snow covered, icy winter chill landscape was everywhere my eyes would set. It was full blown winter and it was a really cold one in Alberta. The heater in the car could not keep up with the -30 Celsius winter winds that whipped ice crystals around like clouds in the air. I was starting to shake and hoped Cecil would be out soon. He wasn't feeling well and I knew that this visit would just make him feel worse. Cecil came out and walked toward the car. He opened the door on the passenger side, and slid into the seat, closing the door. He had a definite worried look on his face and I could tell he was upset. He spoke softly, and told me, "honey, I'm dying". I froze. I could not believe my ears. I said, "what?" and he said, "I'm dying". I said, "No! That's just a great Valentines day gift isn't it?" because that was all I could think of to say. I could not believe it! The love of my life had just told me he was dying. Tears began to flow from my eyes, and he was crying. We just sat there, both of us freezing our butts off, mid winter madness hit us as we realised the reality that we now had to face. I asked him what it was, and he told me he had end stage liver disease. He explained that he had to go for more testing and that they did not know how much time he had left, but it was terminal and it was end stage. I pulled myself together after becoming completely unglued for about 10 minutes. My head was spinning, I couldn't breath, tears were streaming down my face and I couldn't see, and I thought I would vomit. I pulled it together and thought about the man sitting next to me, and how hard this must be for him, having to tell the love of his life sitting next to him that he was dying. I held his hand, and we calmed down, and I drove us home. Our lives would become very hectic for a while after Cecil's diagnosis. We had to make a trip to Edmonton for a three day seminar with the liver specialists and Cecil had many more tests to do. My work was very gracious to me and allowed me the time I needed to make sure we had everything done that needed to be done for Cecil. About a month after the diagnosis, my sister Kathi and her daughter Kim moved up to Calgary. I helped her as much as I could and told her about Cecil at this time. I did not have much time to spend with them between working and making sure Cecil's needs were being met. It was a busy time and Cecil and I just focused on doing what the doctors told us in order to help Cecil live as long as possible. Cecil was diagnosed at that time with 2 to 5 years to live, but they said they did not know how long he had, it could be 6 months or 10 years and there was no way to tell. These years were very busy and rolled by fast. Cecil and I decided that we would not let this disease beat us, and we stayed positive and decided that we were going to live our lives as normally as possible and not let this destroy us. We continued to enjoy our time together even though Cecil did become sicker and sicker as each year rolled by. My friend Michelle was working as Executive Chef at another pub and when I was 39 years old, she asked me to join her at the pub as her Sous Chef. She encouraged me to work with her and I had dreamed of the opportunity to be a Sous Chef so I jumped at the opportunity and left the bank. It was a great challenge and the money was really good. My skills were good, and the kitchen staff respected my work and knowledge and Michelle continue to train me to run the kitchen. That summer, she was injured at home and had to take the summer off, and I was able to run the kitchen at that awesome pub for the entire summer. It was a great challenge, and I was really grateful for the opportunity to prove to myself that I could do it. This year, Cecil's youngest son in England wanted to come and see him and spend some time with him, knowing that Cecil was terminally ill. He came and stayed with us for about 6 months and after he arrived it became clear that he had so many unresolved issues because Cecil was not in his life and did not help raise him. He felt abandoned and wanted to tell Cecil to his face how this affected him. I understood completely, and tried to be a voice of reason for them both and keep the peace in our home. Cecil began to get sicker by the day and decided that he needed to move out of our home into a senior care facility that had a nurse onsite. I was upset, but knew that Cecil needed to make the best decisions he needed to for his health, and for his life. I was not happy about it, but I wanted to support Cecil with whatever decisions he needed to make in his condition. I moved him into his new senior care apartment and Cecil told me that I needed to move on with my life. He felt that he was a burden to me, and holding me back and I told him that I did not want to move on and find another husband. I wanted to be with him to the end, and he knew that. We were a team, and he was breaking the team up!
Born in Hell Ages 40 through 42 yrs old Graphic and Explicit Content
This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. I had moved Cecil into his own apartment and moved myself into an apartment downtown, close to the pub I was Sous Chef at. I was sad that Cecil and I had separated, but we had decided that we were not really "breaking up", but just living separately. I missed having him around and it took some time just to figure out what I would do with my time, what I liked to eat and it really felt like a loss in my life. I would go visit Cecil twice a week and cook supper for him, go to the store for him and help him with anything he needed. I was really just checking on him to make sure he was okay at his new apartment. There was a nurse onsite in his building but I just wanted to make sure that his needs were being met. I began to settle into my new suite, and because I have more time on my hands, I begin to experience more flashbacks, and more problems stemming from the abuse I suffered as a child. It always seemed that when I was on my own, the abuse and adult survivor issues would hit me in the face. I was still working with my friend at the pub, and as I turned 41 years old, my friend decided that she wanted a new guy who had just started working at the pub to be her Sous Chef. My friend turned on me and began to tell me hurtful things and tell me that she found I was too much and needed help. She started a fight with me at work one day and I blew up at her and quit the job and the friendship. It was really just more rejection. Cecil rejected me, he moved out. My friend rejected me, she wanted me out of her life. I was very much on my own again and even though Cecil and I were still a "couple", I was very lonely and depressed. I kept on working and got a new job. Within the first 3 weeks they fired me, saying that I just wasn't fitting in there. I was 41 years old and had never been fired before. I picked up unemployment for a while and took a break. The same day I was fired, I found out that I had to move out of my suite because the lady who owned it had to sell it. I moved across to another building to another suite and as I was slowly unpacking in my new place, the toll of that year began to manifest. Cecil moved out, my best friend rejected me, I lost my job, I got fired from a new job, I had to move and have very little funds to work with. It was all too much. I began to sink into a depression and one month after I moved to the new place I got a phone call from my abuser dad who was living in Arizona at this time. He phoned to say hello and immediately began to run my dead mother down into the ground. He began to call her all the names he called her as I was growing up. I could not believe he would do that. She had been dead and in the ground for 10 years and he was still running her down. I became very angry and told him I would never speak to him again if he ever did that again. He said he wouldn't and we ended the conversation. As the weeks rolled on, I was looking for work and not finding anything. I was having flashbacks on a regular basis, body memories were haunting me and the pain in my heart was so intense that I could not deal with it. I began to sink into a black pit of despair and one night while sitting on my couch in the dark, I picked up a rusty screwdriver off my coffee table and decide that I should self injure. I wanted to rip my body to shreds with it in order to show the world what my abuser parents and brother had done to me. I wanted to end the pain and began to think of ways to end my life. I wanted the pain to be over and as I sat there holding the screw driver in my hand, I began to convince myself that this should be it, I should do it and take myself out. Then I began to think about who I was doing that for, was it for me to end my pain or was it to force my family to care about me. I realised that no one would care if I self injured or killed myself. No one cared that my two brothers killed themselves. The world doesn't care and I realised that no one cares. I knew that Cecil would never understand why I would end my life. It would bother him because he was emotionally stable and he would not have understood. One side of myself was telling myself to go ahead and do it, and kill myself. The other side was telling me to live. I was in so much pain emotionally, I could not see myself taking another breath. All the body memories were there from the physical abuse, the child rape and sodomy, and all the verbal abuse assaults were rolling around in my head. The one side of myself was telling me to go ahead and end it all, after all, I was just a rape child no one wanted, I was just a whore and useless and no one cared about me. The other side was telling me to live, live, live. I decided to put the screw driver down and from that moment on made the decision to live. I made a promise to myself and to God to live, to reach out and to get help and this is my victory! I win this fight! Every day that I wake up is my victory over my abuser family. I am healing, reaching out, getting help, learning to love myself, learning to take care of myself, learning to manage life and coping skills. I hope that anyone watching this will remember, you do count, you do matter and you did not deserve to be abused in any way. Please reach out and get help, no matter what kind of help it is. Make the RIGHT choice! LIVE!
Latest Happenings
Update September 08, 2018 I just wanted to fill everyone in on what's been happening for the last 6 months or so and let everyone know the sad news that my husband Cecil passed away in August 2018. It's a sad time of grieving for me right now, but I plan on starting to broadcast again and also pick up with the Bible Study videos as well. I'll keep you posted on my website at the following link. Thanks for all your support through the years! http://authorlaurieannsmith.weebly.com/broadcast-schedule.html