SURVIVING THE MEMORIES SITE FOR SURVIVORS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT
HAULLIE'S STORY

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Me and a Gun by Tori Amos

I was Born in Oregon in May of 1980. To Two people, my Mom and Dad at the time, he was in the Military as a Military Cook and I don't recall my Mother ever telling me what she did at the time. But the story she tells me is that she and my Dad were just friends. They decided she wanted to have a child and since he looked like he could pass for her brother he agreed to give her a child just as a favor. When I was born however he had begun to grow attached. Being the Pisces my Mom surely is she wasn't having that, that wasn't the deal. So she quickly spotted a job in a local newspaper for a job as a Stripper in Alaska paying a lot of Money. She knew that would pay for her legal bookkeeper school job she wanted so badly so she packed everything up including me and she took off with me and my sister. Oh yeah I have a sister, but we don't speak very much, she is 4 years older than I am. She lives in Washington right now.

Now understand this from my point of view, this is the beginning stages of my life. I'm just a child, I've grown into adulthood and this is the first time I've heard this story about how I was born. Imagine my surprise, I'm not too keen on where I came from in fact I've only met my Dad twice and he seems to have a different side to this whole story, puzzling. But I haven't even dove into that yet.

Now let's skip a few years, I'm in Alaska which is where this whole thing led us. I'm obviously a child, about 4 years old now. Life is great! Couldn't be better. I'm having the time of my life. I didn't know who my real Father was I could care less at that time all I knew was that I was living the good life in Alaska. But now when I look back on life I start to question why Mom had all those boyfriends, husbands, why was there Money sometimes and not money sometimes? I wonder these things because I WAS so blanketed as a child, so tossed around from one place to another. Still learning the language of love, the nature of the world. There is a natural innocence about a child that makes them so bonded to their environment not knowing that they are about to imprint every image for the rest of their lives whether they like it or not.

I recall around the age of four or five years old my Mom took me to Day Care for the very first time. I was maybe going there for a few months, maybe in between or before I had even started any Pre School program I can't remember all too well. But I remember I had this yellow blanket and red pillow with white polka dots I was kindly attacked to very much so and we would all take naps in the middle of the day and I got to have my pillow and blankie. And so that will always be such a strong positive memory for me. But the negative memory unfortunately was that I had suffered physical abuse from the attendants of the Day Care place very badly off and on for some time. When I had mentioned this abuse to my Mom to this day she told me "Why didn't you tell anyone, more children could have gotten hurt." But the fact was I didn't speak very much as a child so you could say I was on borderline mute, I was shy and timid, can you blame me? There wasn't a day that didn't go by that I didn't feel sorry for not saying anything but it leads me to wonder why women all over the world don't report their Raped, there must be some reason to that as well and yet they are far older and much more vocal than a small child. There is something deeper to this, much deeper, it lies within the heart of every Survivor whether you are Surviving from physical abuse or Rape. This carried on my entire life and you'll see.

The Day Care abuse started when the other kids awoke from a nap and told on me to the sitters of the place saying "She cussed and said the word b*tch!". But when the sitters (who were a husband and wife team by the way) got to me I was asleep so it was obviously a mistake, they grabbed the wrong girl or the kids were just picking on me, I have no idea why I was taken. I just remember being taken out of my sleep and then being taken into the bathroom where the door was open and the kids who told could watch me as they shoved a bar of soap into my mouth and yelled at me for cussing. This happened on numerous occasions, it was always over a bad word. There was a time I was made to drink peroxide or something to that nature. I was a child so I could not read, I did not know what I was drinking that was under the counter but I know it was being pulled from under the counter and being poured into a spoon and being poured into my mouth and that the burning was intense as it was usually washed down with oatmeal or juice. Another time I was thrown in the yard while they made me lay on the ground, then it started to rain. You'd think my Mom would have noticed, but kids will play games in the rain will they not? I was beaten with a wooden peg board people use to gamble with so many times I can't count in front of the other kids. I believe it was the humiliation of it all that got to me. To this day I cannot stand humiliation of any form, it's the fear of it all that stains the very soul of a child. And yes, all along I believed I was the only one.

My life is so full of anger you have no idea, so full of pain and abuse, I can't even begin to describe. How do I even begin to tell you about the Sexual Abuse? Do I just jump right into it? Isn't that what this site was built upon? To me my life is about so much more. Over these past few years I've come to realize that it's not just about the fact that my Mom in her past married a horribly abusive man that took advantage of me in such a way that betrays even the pivotal dreams I seek, but it's about the physical abuse, it's about the screams I've heard, it's the people who've affected me so much, it's the blood shed, it's the torment, it's the happiness I've found at the end of this Hell I never thought I could find. That's why I hope even after this you'll be patient and realize this is just my beginning, my pain. And it doesn't even come close at times.

At around 1989 we moved to California for the first time, I say first time because there was so many times I moved in and out of this State, here I am again. My Mom went through major times of depression after her boyfriend never followed her back from Alaska after he'd promised her he would. So we lived with my grandma for a long time while she took care of my sister and I. Mom locked herself in her room and painted Christmas ornaments for months and would never come out, then at Halloween she finally came out and started to paint pumpkins for the neighbors and started giving them out to people all over. She seemed to be okay again, selling her Ornaments at Christmas time. Getting involved with the family, things seemed to be okay again I was even enrolled into School with my sister again.

My Mom had met my EX Step-Father the following year around 1990. My mind draws a blank exactly as to how they met but I do know that they are second cousins and that my Mother's first cousin introduced them. So I'm not exactly sure if that is some crude form of half sided incest however you want to look at it but it didn't help my situation that's all I know. Knowing that my Mom was about to Marry her second cousin or so I have been told so many times before. And believe me no one has ever told me otherwise.

I started to notice his abuse immediately, it didn't take long before I noticed something was wrong. He would physically abuse my mother so badly he put both her and myself in the hospital once because of it. So many beatings, I can't even begin to describe them in detail. He had locked me in my room for an entire month for following his orders and then changing his mind about them and saying I was wrong. Things you have no power or control over, we were almost in fear for our lives, I remembered one instance when he was in my bedroom shining a flashlight down my chest, I layed in still silence for fear to open my eyes. Pretending to sleep, a child shouldn't have to muster so much courage. Already my sister's attitude turned from us being so close to us not talking at all, she ran away from home. She obviously knew something was wrong and she wasn't sticking around for long. She grew to hate me immensely to the point where she enjoyed seeing me hurt and I don't know why, to be honest it still puzzles me.

The Day Care abuse started when the other kids awoke from a nap and told on me to the sitters of the place saying "She cussed and said the word b*tch!". But when the sitters (who were a husband and wife team by the way) got to me I was asleep so it was obviously a mistake, they grabbed the wrong girl or the kids were just picking on me, I have no idea why I was taken. I just remember being taken out of my sleep and then being taken into the bathroom where the door was open and the kids who told could watch me as they shoved a bar of soap into my mouth and yelled at me for cussing. This happened on numerous occasions, it was always over a bad word. There was a time I was made to drink peroxide or something to that nature. I was a child so I could not read, I did not know what I was drinking that was under the counter but I know it was being pulled from under the counter and being poured into a spoon and being poured into my mouth and that the burning was intense as it was usually washed down with oatmeal or juice. Another time I was thrown in the yard while they made me lay on the ground, then it started to rain. You'd think my Mom would have noticed, but kids will play games in the rain will they not? I was beaten with a wooden peg board people use to gamble with so many times I can't count in front of the other kids. I believe it was the humiliation of it all that got to me. To this day I cannot stand humiliation of any form, it's the fear of it all that stains the very soul of a child. And yes, all along I believed I was the only one.

My life is so full of anger you have no idea, so full of pain and abuse, I can't even begin to describe. How do I even begin to tell you about the Sexual Abuse? Do I just jump right into it? Isn't that what this site was built upon? To me my life is about so much more. Over these past few years I've come to realize that it's not just about the fact that my Mom in her past married a horribly abusive man that took advantage of me in such a way that betrays even the pivotal dreams I seek, but it's about the physical abuse, it's about the screams I've heard, it's the people who've affected me so much, it's the blood shed, it's the torment, it's the happiness I've found at the end of this Hell I never thought I could find. That's why I hope even after this you'll be patient and realize this is just my beginning, my pain. And it doesn't even come close at times.

At around 1989 we moved to California for the first time, I say first time because there was so many times I moved in and out of this State, here I am again. My Mom went through major times of depression after her boyfriend never followed her back from Alaska after he'd promised her he would. So we lived with my grandma for a long time while she took care of my sister and I. Mom locked herself in her room and painted Christmas ornaments for months and would never come out, then at Halloween she finally came out and started to paint pumpkins for the neighbors and started giving them out to people all over. She seemed to be okay again, selling her Ornaments at Christmas time. Getting involved with the family, things seemed to be okay again I was even enrolled into School with my sister again.

My Mom had met my EX Step-Father the following year around 1990. My mind draws a blank exactly as to how they met but I do know that they are second cousins and that my Mother's first cousin introduced them. So I'm not exactly sure if that is some crude form of half sided incest however you want to look at it but it didn't help my situation that's all I know. Knowing that my Mom was about to Marry her second cousin or so I have been told so many times before. And believe me no one has ever told me otherwise.

I started to notice his abuse immediately, it didn't take long before I noticed something was wrong. He would physically abuse my mother so badly he put both her and myself in the hospital once because of it. So many beatings, I can't even begin to describe them in detail. He had locked me in my room for an entire month for following his orders and then changing his mind about them and saying I was wrong. Things you have no power or control over, we were almost in fear for our lives, I remembered one instance when he was in my bedroom shining a flashlight down my chest, I layed in still silence for fear to open my eyes. Pretending to sleep, a child shouldn't have to muster so much courage. Already my sister's attitude turned from us being so close to us not talking at all, she ran away from home. She obviously knew something was wrong and she wasn't sticking around for long. She grew to hate me immensely to the point where she enjoyed seeing me hurt and I don't know why, to be honest it still puzzles me.

The rape happened on October 28th of 1991. I was 11 years old. I remember that day very well. I remember my Step-Sister at the time was just putting in her Enya CD, CD's were a new thing to me back then. I really wanted to be a witch for Halloween. I thought the song 'Orinoco Flow' was so pretty I had never heard anything like that before and my Step-Sister was always so much more whimsical than I, I always wanted to be like her, but I never said that. And I rarely ever talk about her. Cause she's a part of "Him". Which is another pat of this day, that started out so pleasant, can you believe that? It wasn't even a sunny day it was one of those mucky rained out days like it had rained so hard the day before. October in California is like that. My Mom had been in jail for at least 2 months by then. For a drug charge that was clearly his fault. He had planted drugs in her purse, not an obvious place to stash it. Now she sleeps with the ants and gets beat every night, for him.

I had just came in from playing with my friend Augustine, he was a cute Mexican boy I had grown fond of. I had become blood brothers with him and all that stuff, cause I suppose I was a tom boy in some aspects. And my Step-Father was standing there by the bathroom in the hallway, I was wearing a black dress with flowers on it. At first I didn't even see him I just walked in like anything I mean I just saw the apartment and my Step-Sister and Step-Brother must have been away, my real sister at the time wasn't even living with us anymore, she had moved away to live with my Aunt at this time, things were changing so fast. You can just imagine the rapid pace. All of a sudden things were about to get a whole lot chaotic.

I finally saw my Step-Father, he was standing there, wearing nothing but underwear. I have a hard time describing what kind now but they aren't appropriate at all. I knew immediately that something must be wrong I just couldn't tell.

He told me to go into the bathroom that there was something that he needed to talk to me about. He then explained that he was a man and I was a female and did I understand what he was saying? And I shook my head in agreement. He said that there was something he could show me that he tried to show his daughter once, but that she said no and he didn't do it to her and that I could say no to, that he needed to teach me about what sex, basically the birds and the bees talk. But that my Mom would want me to know this anyway so if I don't it could make things worse. But the good thing about my story is that I still said no even as a child I must have known what he was doing was wrong. I knew something was wrong, my Mother would never want something like this to happen, my Mom was paranoid, she would go through the whole Child Safety Kidnap Code with me every week. This was not like her, I said "No!".

Because I feared this man, when he proceeded to take out his penis and expose himself to me and pick me up with his force and put me on the bathroom counter. I did not move, I did not speak and no I did not fight very much. I will tell you exactly in detail what happened. I trembled in fear. I bled a lot and I cried in the aftermath out of confusion and pain and loss for not knowing what I had done wrong or what I had lost to begin with. I knew his strength, I knew there was something more to it. The Rape did not last long, I felt like maybe he was sending me a message than anything, if my memory serves me right and it's very blurred these days thankfully he maybe only entered me twice. If there were more times I really can't remember, in a way that's a good thing I don't want to remember. Because there are times when I think of his flashlight incident. Or the time he made me watch a pornographic movie on his lap. It's the little things that aren't such little things to me anymore. And I can never get that back. His violation is the reason I fight so hard for Survivors around the world every single day of my life, there is no better thing to fight for.

Thankfully around 1994 my Mom left him for good and has never looked back. She says if she ever sees him again she'll kill him, though I don't think killing will solve anything way to stick up for your daughter Mom!

In the Aftermath of the Rape and through my teenage years I won't lie I've suffered more trauma. I've dreamt of suicide at times sadly but have overcome many times. Because I've lived in poverty and I've lived in lies and hate. I've been betrayed by those whom are supposed to love you the most and it's not always easy when you live in a world that doesn't seem to see you. I went to 6 different schools in 5th grade. That's just an example of the moving around my family put me through with their drugs and their issues. I took a risk by moving to Washington to live with my Aunt and my sister (again) and away from my Mom and her problems.

Living in Washington had it's problems because well, it had my Aunt! And my Aunt too was very abusive. She herself was very Verbally and Physically abusive. And she was studying Psychology at the time, Adolescent psychology so she really knew how to put the whip on everyone. But she had a special bond with my sister. Because my sister had decided to choose to come and live with her over anybody else in the world besides my Mother at the time she decided to protect my sister, become her best friend, never hurt her, give her freedom none of us had. Us in I mean me and my two other cousins, her two sons. My Aunts yelling was so horrific it got to the point to where if I forgot anything, just saying the words "I forgot" got me punished. I was made to bleach the walls with strait bleach till my hands cracked and bled and the skin was falling off. I went to school barely able to write. All of these things I kept hidden very well. I witnessed her throw my cousin's head threw a glass window over nothing! Nothing at all! Her yelling would not stop, I grew so bad at not being able to sleep at night, I feared she was the problem of my chronic headaches. She would constantly hit me or hit my cousins, or order us to do chores and then slap me in front of my boyfriend, Oh I about had enough.

The last straw was in 1998 when I decided to tell her I wanted to get married to someone (at the time, not anymore lol) and that I wanted to believe in God. She was Furious "You're too young, You don't need that God shit! What the f*ck do you need God for?" So she began to hit me like you wouldn't believe. All of a sudden I see my sister walk in the room. Forgive me this is the most powerful and most painful memory of my entire life. I cry every time I think about it because of the fact that my sister did this to me it's much more painful than the abuse. My Aunt was hitting me and she's kind of an overweight woman plus she's crippled so she was beating me with her cain as well with was made out of steel. She was also beating my head against the bed post at the time and I was telling her "Stop hitting me!" All of a sudden I see my sister in the corner laughing hysterically.

I dis-owned my sister that day. I haven't been the same with her since. Now you know my life is not just about my Sexual Abuse and would you believe this is not it? Would you believe I am a secondary Survivor of Rape? That my story goes on? As many Survivors it only goes deeper into the darkness. Because the Aftermath is a heavy place filled with so many changes. I did marry young once, I did make many mistakes along the way. I also divorced very young after creating this website. But that all happened after I got the hell out of that house, that's how brave I had to be that night, I ran. Just like my Mother did when she was 12. Her Mother and Step-Father were holding her down beating her because they hated her, she had everything and all of a sudden she was made to come back and live with them again, and they had nothing. What kind of a life could they give to her they thought. My Mom fought them off and she ran hard and she ran fast. Not until recently had I been allowed the privilege of knowing that story, which is so similar to my own, I feel so closely connected to my Mother now on that level of freedom as a Survivor. My Mom even told me "I'm a Survivor".

After my Divorce I worked in New Jersey for about 3 months, I met someone from the Internet whom really made me feel special on a great level. I had consented sex with this man, but he had disappeared on me the day after. Now I cannot call this rape I know this. I can barely call it coerced rape. I wish I could because it hurt me that badly in fact it hurt me so badly that two weeks later when I was actually attacked by a real attacker It numbed me so much I didn't seem to care that I had just been really raped. I did care but at the same time I was mentally insane about it. All I could think about was getting out of New Jersey, give me the first ticket out of here! When I arrived at work my intentions were to call the police, the advice I gave to so many women around the world, yet when I had told my boss what had happened I was told to shower and get to work, we simply did not have time for this in such a 4 Star High Class Establishment. That's America for you sometimes. And since I had no where else to live but the Hotel and no way to pay to eat I had no choice so I wasn't THAT insane. I simply valued my life. I knew I could still learn and grow from this, I knew I was alive and that's what mattered.

Meeting strangers from the internet is a dangerous game to play, you don't know who you're going to meet, I learned that lesson twice. You can't learn it any better than that, no one deserves to be the victim of rape. It doesn't matter what move you made, but we can always be safer. i know I could have been that's why I want to address this issue and make sure other people are safer. Even in coerced situations, if you even feel the slightest thing is wrong check on something. Because even emotional damage can still be damaging, it may not be rape but he still hurt you.

My story is not just about rape, I apologize if I took you in levels you did not intend to go. My story is about me. It's about physical abuse, mental abuse, sexual abuse, verbal abuse, it's about coping and healing and saying "No" and having it all taken away but saying "I will get it back!" I believe a lot of people can relate that it's your life as a whole that determines who you are as a person, I wish I could tell you everything I really wish that I could. But my life is a painful reminder of who I am. It's sad but true. Maybe one day I'll sit down and I'll attempt to write more but for now, you know my voice.

I now reside in California, AGAIN! I am re-married to my wonderful husband Robert. I have no children, but a cat named Cole (Baby Love). I suffer from Chronic Headache / Nausea in the Aftermath now. But I'm pleased to say the road ahead is inspiring for me. The healing is always there, sometimes it is a struggle but without a little struggling there can be no progression! It's never too late for a new beginning.

"Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible."
~Jane Rubrietta, Quiet Places

 
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