God Said It's Time For Closure

iUniverse, Inc.

Contents

Introduction.................................................1Events That Inspired This Book...............................3What to Expect...............................................7Who knew that toddlers had it hard too?......................9Character Building time......................................11Moving again.................................................13The Break Down of the Unit...................................17Punishment fit for a princess................................23Girls........................................................27Who Am I Really?.............................................29A New Beginning..............................................31Daddy's Turn.................................................33It's your turn Mom...........................................43All Hopes for Trust was now Dead!............................51Just as I thought I had my life together.....................55Time to grow up..............................................59I Am A Fighter...............................................65Back to Reality..............................................67Freedom......................................................75Moving Into Destiny..........................................79The Road To Destiny..........................................81Discovering the Power of God.................................85My Evaluation of My Life.....................................99

Chapter One

In 2008 I was twenty seven years old living in Florida with my three daughters, and husband. I had everything: diamonds, cars, clothes, money, houses and my beauty. Everything looked perfect from the outside, but on the inside I was a total wreck. I had no real friends in my life, and no one wanted to stay around me.

People were coming, and going out of my life constantly. The majority were with me for what I could give them, or who they could become affiliated with through me. The few people that actually were genuine to me I would unknowingly push them away. My mother was not a part of my life in anyway, and my father publicly made it known that he wanted to have nothing to do with me. My father took his anger toward me one step further by telling all of his brothers, sisters, nephew, nieces, employees, and friends to avoid me. My children were out of control, and my husband stopped spending time with me.

The man that I am married to began coming home between 3 and 5a.m. every morning. He would go right to sleep, and wake up by 10a.m Once he was awake he would take a shower, and leave for the day. I knew nothing about his where abouts, or who he spent his time with. My husband had keys to other houses, and more than two cell phones. He was well known in our little town, but none of his friends spoke to me. Eventually almost no one spoke to me in this town. The disrespect was so obvious that if I walked into a store and someone recognized me they would walk out of the store, or just remain cold and silent while I was there.

Weed and alcohol became my best friends during this time; I took them with me everywhere. I started abusing everything, and everyone. I developed an unquenchable appetite for everything. Nothing satisfied me. I was alone, and very needy. I needed my husband's attention, so everything that I did was over the top. I was always trying to be his friend, his wife, his lover, his everything. I wanted him all to myself, and he wanted nothing to do with me. Once my efforts were rejected I became rebellious against him. Eventually I wanted to kill him.

Depression sunk in, and I not only wanted to kill him, but my kids and myself too. I started to hear voices in my head, and have moments of complete black outs. I became very afraid of myself. I had lost control, and sadness was an everyday thing for me. I cried all the time no matter where I was. The only good thing I had was the wisdom to seek for help.

Eventually my husband took me to see a psychologist who did nothing for me, but make me worst. My husband insisted on being present, and turned all of my counseling sessions into our counseling sessions. After my third session with this psychologist I walked away knowing that I was going to take the mini a.k. riffle that I had, and kill everyone first, and then myself. I could not let that happen, so I drove myself to the local mental hospital. Once I had calmed down I convinced them to release me that day, and they sent me to a local women's counseling group. The counselor there violated me. She called the police on me, and caused me to feel more pain than I had before I went to see her.

My life had gone from bad to worse, but I wanted to fight to be alive for my kids. I love my kids. I was always letting them down, I just kept failing. Even when I tried to get help I failed. I needed to change; I needed help. I sat down one afternoon trying to remember one time when I was genuinely happy, and then I remembered Jesus. Every memory of true happiness throughout my previous years included Jesus.

I decided to commit myself totally to Jesus once again. I decided that if Jesus failed me, or this new lifestyle did not work out for me them I could kill myself. I found a church, rededicated my life to Jesus and started attending church regularly. My life started to change drastically. I became sober a few months later. Certain bad habits that I had were just falling off of me without much effort from me. My faith level was rising, and I was developing a true friendship with Jesus. I felt like I had finally found my purpose in life.

One night as I was driving home from church I heard Jesus say that I needed to get a notebook, and write down every event in my life. He also said that once I was finished with my writings I would have closure from my past pain. Jesus gave me the title, the vision, the layout, the cover design and the marketing plan. This book is God's master plan for my life.

What to Expect

In the upcoming chapters you will go on a journey with me starting at the age of three years old. The events in this book will end in the year 2010 when I am 29 years old. This is a story about a little girls experience with sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, rejection, abandonment and loneliness.

If you have been hurt in any way as a child, or even as an adult this book is for you. You will begin your healing process by the end of this book. You will see your life struggles in a positive light from now on, and you will have faith that God will do great things through your life also. There is hope for tomorrow. You can smile again. You can move on from where you are. Most of all you have not messed up that bad that you cannot live tomorrow. You are not ever alone. I love you, and Jesus loves you.

Why do I hurt so much? Why am I always hurting? When is the pain ever going to stop? Is the pain ever going to stop? How much more pain can one person really take? I am tired! I am depressed! No one likes me! I am always alone! Why!!!!!!!!! Why isn't God helping me?

Who knew that toddlers had it hard too?

The first memory of my life goes back to when I was three years old. I remember being told by my 19 year old male cousin to "suck it." Here I am three years old giving oral sex to a man. I am sure this abuse ended at 3 years old. What I am not sure of is when it began. I am sure that my family found out, but I am not sure how they came into that knowledge.

I can remember sitting between my grandmother's legs as she combed my hair as she always did at that age. One of my uncles sat across from us in a love seat watching television. They both questioned me on what was going between my 19 year old cousin, and I. The conversation was very brief, and their attitudes were nonchalant. The next thing I noticed was that the entire family caught amnesia about this specific situation.

Character building time

Before that incident happened my mother took my little brother, and left my dad and I in Jamaica. They moved to Buffalo, NY. I did not know why she did that, but this was the beginning of a lasting cycle between my mother and I. It seems that for the rest of my adolescent years I was always left behind with my father. Or my father would take me whenever they were fighting, and he needed a break. I was always in the middle of things. I always felt like their issues were somehow my fault. After the incident with my cousin happened, my father and I rejoined my mother and baby brother in Buffalo, NY.

My mind had developed in a way that only retains the memory of extreme events. I only remember things that were extremely bad or extremely good. The in between are lost. The next few years of my adolescents were quiet, and normal I guess. Yes, there was still lots of break ups between my parents, and me being moved around with my dad constantly, but I guess everyone has a little bit of that right (ha ha ha). They were relentless I remember my mom and dad arguing in the house and using me to carry the messages back and forth.

Moving Again

At some point we did move from Buffalo, NY to East Orange NJ. One day my mother put a perm in my hair as a little girl, and then cut it all off. As I recall it she said that my hair was too big. My whole family was upset with her, because I did have really long hair, and I had no need for a perm. I remember my dad's cousins that lived across the street, from us. They practically raised my brother and me. We spent more time with them at their house than our house. Besides the few memories of my dad and I being together there were my cousins. They were a family of three women, two teenage girls and their mother.

At some point between the ages of three, and nine years old I did have a family unit of my own. Meaning I had my mom, my dad, and two baby brothers. We also had a nanny in the home at some point. Our life was a very normal drama full, family life. Towards the deterioration of our unit mom was working and dad. I'm not really sure what he was doing. He was always on the road. Mom was not around often, but dad was at least visible in the day times. All I remember of the nanny was that she was old, and she wore a very raggedy wig which she took off every night, combed it out and sprayed it down. My brothers and I didn't like her very much. We eventually changed her. We changed nannies a lot as a matter of fact.

The last place that we lived together was in a nine, or ten story building in the urban parts of New Jersey. My dad brought bicycles for every one of the boys in the building, and he would take us all out riding every Saturday. We were very popular in that building of course. We had awesome parties which were always thrown by my dad. Like I said life was normal as normal could be for me. Until my dad decided to marry my mother's best friend, and keep it a secret from her while still living at home with us.

My mom said that she knew that her best friend had gotten married, but she did not know to whom. Her best friend worked at the same place as she did. The best friend came to work every morning flaunting her gorgeous, new wedding ring, and talking about her wonderful, mysterious new husband. She told my mom everything as girlfriends do naturally, but for months she deliberately forgot to say the name of her new husband. Months after the union my father's friend was bitter with his deceit, so he called my mother and told her everything.

I have been surrounded my whole life by people that make life changing decisions very selfishly. What about being self less? What about thinking about the others lives you are going to affect before you think about yourself. I thank God that Jesus was not selfish!

The Break Down of the Unit

A series of events followed once my mom got the news. First she packed all of his things, and placed them outside the apartment door. Dad was angry, and shocked; because up until this moment he had been working overtime at making sure she did not find out (I guess that was him trying to be selfless). There was lots of arguing, and fighting, but eventually he did leave. My grandparents flew up to America, and some of our family members came also. We had a big family meeting about this, but nothing was worked out. It was over!

My mother was not yet satisfied, so she followed them one day, and beat her ex-girlfriend almost lifeless. Mom came bursting through our front door crying saying that the police were coming to get her. She said that she just beat her friend, and she is going to jail. She hugged us, and we all cried. We were scared to death.

The next thing that happened, a short while later, was my dad burst through the front door. I ran over to him, and he pushed me into the wall. He stormed over to my mother, and punched her. She flew into the wall, and he continued to hit her. I ran down the hall, and asked someone to call 9-1-1. As a result of his beating on my mother he broke her jaw. He also broke our hearts.

A few days or weeks later, my little brothers and I were shipped off to my mother's parent's house in Jamaica. My father pleaded with my mother for her not to send us away, but she decided that it would be easier for her if we weren't around. She insisted, and there was nothing my dad could do about it. In his last attempt he begged her to let me stay, because he did not want me back in that environment. He asked her if she did not remember what happened to me there. She did not care. She needed us gone, so we were sent!

Well here we were again back where it all started grandma and grandpa's house in Jamaica. Adults had made the decisions: we had no voice in what they did, so I accepted, and hoped for the best. It was this stage of the game that I started to live with anticipation. I was always told that it's just for a little while, and I'll soon come back, so I spent the next four years of my life wishing that today would be that day.

As soon as we arrived all pleasantries were over. My grandmother took all of our clothes, and shoes and hid them from us. We were only allowed to have one at a time. I remember walking to school with the entire bottom of my shoe falling off. I don't know why we had to go through that, because we had a whole barrel full of shoes. We had holes in my clothes, but we had tons of clothes that she kept away from us. I remember having to tie my book bag so that my things would not fall out of it. Why? I guess it was to teach us something (????)

My grandfather was a believer of the rod. He beat us at every chance he had. Sometimes he would just wake us up, and beat us. When we asked why his answer was that we would do something later that would be worthy of it. If they misplaced something we got beat. If we spoke without being told we got beat. If we were good we got beat, and if we were bad we got beat. I remember my last beating was with a fan belt from a car. He cut me up real good. I promised myself that he would never get the chance to beat me again. I was fully prepared to defend myself if need be. Surprisingly at the moment of this decision the beatings stopped, and I never had to retaliate.

Besides the beatings, they called me every name under the sun. They did not like me very much at least I know my granddad did not. He used to tell me that I was worth less, and I would never amount to anything. He called me lazy, no good, man hungry, devil, fresh, etc. I did not, and still do not understand what I did to be hated so much. It was how they introduced me. My grandmother even made a rule that I was not allowed to play with anyone especially my boy cousins, because I was fresh. I wondered if I was the one that asked my cousin. Did I pursue him?

In all of my grandparent's attempts it did not stop much other than people talking to me in public. The younger brother to my 19 year old cousin started coming by. He was there every day. Sometimes he would stay for weeks. He was lots of fun at first. He taught my brothers, and I a lot of fun things at first. He taught my brothers, and I a lot about sex also. He was around 17 years old at this time. Eventually he got all of us to hump each other. Now I was the only girl there, so I would watch my brothers hump each other or my male cousins hump my brothers.

One night once everyone in our house was asleep; my cousin woke me up, and told me to follow him. I did we went into the back room under the bed. He started kissing, and rubbing on me. I believe I liked it, because I think this was the first time I had an orgasm. The Holy Spirit must have awaken my grandmother out of her sleep, and sent her into the room to get me. We heard her coming, and rolled out from under the bed. We quickly put ourselves back together before she entered the room. She did not speak. She just gave me this look. Then she dragged me out of the room, and into the guestroom that was adjacent to her bedroom.

When we got inside the room my grandmother locked the two doors, threw me on the bed, and told me to take off my clothes, and spread my legs. I started to cry. I asked her several times why, but she never answered. She checked my vagina, and then walked away. Until this day I just assume that she was checking me for intercourse.

I was feeling totally violated by everyone. What did I do? Am I the reason this is happening? Did I ask for this? Why am I being punished? Why am I being called the "fresh" one? Why am I being separated from the world? Why is no one else getting in trouble? Here goes the big one did it really happen, or is it just in my head? Why was I so terrible?

Punishment fit for a princess

After this I was cut off from everything. I was exclusively subjected to the house. I could not leave the veranda, nor could I stand at the fence, and talk to my best girlfriend. I remember one afternoon my brother, and I snuck to the side of the house just to talk with the girl next door. As we were standing there our grandparents showed up. Grandma was at one end, and grandpa was at the other end. There was no getting away. We got beat from both ends outside in front of our friend, and for what? Talking I guess!

(Continues...)

Excerpted from God Said It's Time For Closureby Lora-Neish Copyright © 2011 by Lora-Neish. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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