Making Changes In Me

I have decided to start getting up in the mornings and working out. I think it will help me feel better both physically and emotionally. I also am planning to call around and find a place to seek out therapy. I may need it, may not. Who knows. I have control over these type things. I can change what I like when it comes to my own life, but sadly, not others. 

So, this entry is to show my mama, because I know she reads my blogs, that she too, can change. She can seek out help. She can quit drinking her life away and start a relationship with us. A relationship that doesn't involve getting home as quick as possible to get to that drink. 

I want to be able to cry and grieve and miss my mama when she dies instead of feeling guilty that I could never push her to get the help she needs before she drank herself into the grave.

So, tomorrow I start! I will wake up at 5 am, get my coffee, get dressed, and go walking. Running is something I'd love to do, but first I need to build up these muscles. 

Mama, I'm willing to change with you. It may not be the same type of change, but I'm offering you my support. I don't know what else to do to make you see the light. You need some help. I've tried every way possible to make you see that. Do me a favor would you? Try? Please? I already don't have a daddy, don't leave me without a mama for the rest of my life too. 

What Am I Doing??????

I want to make a change, but how? Where do I start? Who do I call? What do I need to do?

Tonight I got on FaceBook and looked at my notifications. My cousin, the daughter of the man who molested me, has shared a picture of my kids plus my two nieces on her wall, and has asked to be tagged in other pictures of my kids. Talk about holy panic mode. I deleted the picture, blocked my cousin and am now sitting here.....

My feelings about it? Betrayed, hurt, angry, and confused. Betrayed because how could she? That's not her right to steal my pics. It is not her right to claim me, my children, as family. Hurt because I know that sick perv has probably seen the pictures. I can't get the thought of him masturbating to them, out of my mind. (<<These are the type of things survivors face when they have kids....it's a whole 'nother experience. Worry for your children's sake.) Angry because I just want them to leave me alone. I don't call to check on them for a reason. I don't go to Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner. I have ZERO to do with them.....WHY bring me back into your screwed up little family again? Last but not least, confused. What's her motive? Has something happened to her and she's trying to reach out? I refuse to believe another innocent child was ripped of their innocence at his dirty paws......or do I?

I realize that I am probably over reacting on a little 12 yr old girl, but i can't help it. I guess a part of me still holds a grudge that he was never taken away from his kids. He got out of jail for molesting his own son and was sent back home with his other 2 kids. If he screwed with the first, what makes you think he's going to leave the others alone? He molested me, then his son.....It will never end.

I'm so emotionally crushed right now. With my cousin doing that little stunt, and my uncle dying and the drama that ensued that. Oh......my uncle. My dads's Uncle Furman. He had a stroke Friday and passed away Sunday morning. His receiving of friends was tonight and I missed it. Every time I went to try and get ready, the kids would freak out. Brock had to work over so there was no time for me to get ready and go when he got home. Guess who did go though...my mama. That's right....MY uncle Furman! Not hers! She wants to go up in there and brag about my kids, her grand kids, when she hardly has anything to do with them. She didn't go because she wanted to show respect. She went for the show, the attention she could get for herself and using my kids as the centerpiece. This happens EVERYWHERE we go, which is why I stopped going out places with her. So, yea, I'm upset I didn't get to attend my uncle's ceremony and my mama went in there with MY family. I can't have anything. I get a pair of shoes, she gets the same kind, get a camera, she gets the same kind, upgrade my phone, so did she. I can't even have my own family. She has to interfere and smear my name with hers on a side of the family that doesn't even concern her. They all know who I am, who my mother and father are. That's shame enough right there. I have had to build a image of myself. I've had to show these people, whom I love, that I am NOT my mother nor my father. I am ME, and they love me for who I turned out to be.....Nothing like my parents. I can't help but think how many people thought, "omg did she really show up?" Sounds cruel but this is MY blog. The one thing she can't copy or take from me are my words. Come hell or high water, or me dragging all 5 kids out in pjs, I will make an appearance at his funeral tomorrow.

So now that leads me back to my title. What am I doing? I'll tell ya, right now it feels like I'm falling apart. Every part of my being wants to fight the justice system so bad but every time I turn around, something comes up with the kids. I'm hoping when school starts back I will have more time to work on figuring this whole 'take the justice system down' thing.


This entry is full of rambling and I'm not even going to proofread. Honestly I'm too tired to care about if my words flow right, if my paragraphs are complete, etc. All that matters to me is now I feel better. I feel like a lot is off my chest.

Conclusion to my past

I was sitting in the back seat of my car, in Brock's(my boyfriend) driveway. It's what we always did. Something had happened with my step dad the night before and it was heavy on my heart. Sitting with a man who loved me for me, holding this dark secret of being some sex toy, it was killing me. Brock could tell something was wrong. I wanted so badly to keep it hidden so he wouldn't know he was sharing his girl with an old man. I just knew he would dump me. Despite my fear, I confided in him. He held me to his chest and caressed my hair. I never felt more safe in my entire life than in his arms at that very moment. I asked him to please never tell anyone, and that I would deal with it myself.

Men never listen. lol. He told his aunt, who worked at the hospital. They tried and tried to get me to report it, but I knew what I would have to go through if I did. I knew the hell I would endure. For the first time in my life, my mama was happy. She had a man who put her in a nice home, cared for her, gave her everything her heart could desire. Why and how could I ever mess that up? She's my mama. She was the only constant thing through my life. Why would I purposely hurt her?

I was on the phone with Brock in my room when my step dad popped his head through the door. "I'll be out in the motorcycle building, waiting." I hung up the phone, checked to make sure my mama was in her room, and headed out the back door, down to the building. Oh, I forgot to mention, he had a vasectomy so he wouldn't get me pregnant. Genius right? I walked in the door to get it over with so I could wash the dirty away quicker. It always started with kissing. He had the worst breath ever!!!!! After he got worked up, I had to sit on a desk while he penetrated me over and over and over. He kept wet wipes and a towel in there for easy clean up. He finished and I got out of there in record time. I jumped in the shower to wash away the dirty. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't wash it away. I had promised Brock that I was not going to have sex with him. I broke my promise to him. I broke a promise to the one person in the world that truly loved me for me. I was so ashamed of who I was and what I did. I called Brock back.

I couldn't talk much. All I remember being able to say was that it happened again. Somehow he and his aunt, convinced me to go to the hospital for a rape kit. I grabbed the keys to my car, went in Mama and stepdad's bedroom and told them I was going to the store to buy a Pepsi. Instead, I went to Brock's house. We waited on his aunt to get ready for work then heading to Spartanburg Regional Medical Center. Because his aunt was an employee, she knew where to take me. Her and her friend went above and beyond to make me as comfortable as possible. They let Brock stay by my side as much as possible. It was just as hard as I imagine plus some. I wasn't alone anymore. I had Brock, and Candi(Brock's aunt), and Shannon(Candi's friend). For the first time in my life, I WASN'T ALONE!!!! while I was heartbroken to have ripped up yet another family/home, I was relived to finally have someone on my side. I was relived to finally be safe. Brock is/was my savior.


My daddy was able to sign his parental rights away and walk away with no charges pressed. My brother was sent to a correctional home where he went through extensive therapy. My uncle was given 18 months in jail and 5 years of probation. While on probation, he re offended his own biological son. My step dad was sentenced to 10 years suspended to 5 because of his exemplary  military background. He served 85% of that and is now out on probation.


Has justice been served? HELL NO!!!!! My uncle is now living with his wife and 2 children. Really? He can molest his child then go back home to a different family he created with another woman? My step dad is living 1.4 miles away from me. I could run into him at a red light, is that fair? NO!!!!!!


This is my story, minus a few gory details. This is the start of my journey to make a difference. I want to push for preventative programs to help our children learn to better protect themselves in situations like these, and push for harsher sentencing for the offenders. DUI laws change. Murder laws can change. Why can't sexual abuse laws?

Introduction (con't)

Over the next 5 years, I was taken advantage of by my bother. In return, I got cool stuff. I was selling myself at 5-10 years old????? Sick. Straight up sick. I'm still finding it hard to forgive my mama for not seeing what was happening. I mean, the pictures? the incident behind the trailer? Really? Nothing is wrong with that??? I just don't get it, and probably never will.

One day when I was about 7 or 8, my brother wanted to make my barbies have sex. I told him I didn't want to because Daddy used to touch me like that. He kind of freaked out and told his friends. His friend's girlfriend then told my mama. It was a HUGE deal. I had to start talking about it and showing what happened on weird dolls with private parts. I had to go to therapy. At therapy, if I talked about what happened, I got a special treat after. I didn't focus on what we talked about, so I don't know if it helped or not.

I was 10 and not in a very good mood. My brother was asking to do the "butt thing" again. I got tired of his nagging...I'll give you this, or I'll let you play this game.... ugh. Honestly, I was sick and tired of him doing it. I didn't like it, didn't enjoy it, and sure as hell didn't want to partake in it. I knew it was wrong. That much I had managed to figure out. I ran to tell my mama.

I was told he was going to a special school so he didn't have to go to DJJ. I was sitting in the bathtub when it hit how serious this was and how much trouble my brother was in. He left at age 15 and didn't come back until he was 17. He never touched me again but he was so different. It was like that placed seriously messed with his brain. He was so distant. I just wanted to talk or listen to music, but he didn't want to be around me. I was no longer cool. He and Mama got into a big fight and he moved out. That's when it hit me. The victim is always the one punished first. I had my brother taken away from me. He was my best friend, and I felt like if I would have kept my mouth shut, everything would be fine. It was my fault! My fault! Deep down, in my heart, I knew what he was doing was wrong. I knew I did the right thing. It was so hard. We had to drive 2 hrs to go see him every other weekend. Mama always acted mean towards me when we went. She was trying to make me feel like it was my fault. I think I continued to go to therapy, but I can't be sure.


Fast forward 3 years to 13. Mama was on crack and married to the crackhead who got her hooked. There was no food in the house. If it weren't for school lunches, I probably would've never eaten. I manage to somehow take care of myself and my dog, that the crackhead brought home. Her name was Mercedez and she became my best friend. I used to go spend the night with my mema every now then and one night when I did, all hell broke loose at home. I called my neighbor (we didn't even have a phone)so she could yell at my mom to come talk to me. She started freaking out then hangs up. I called back a little later and was finally able to talk to Mama. Her and Crackhead got into a fight. He broke her nose, but she almost bit his finger off. (GO MAMA!!!!)  She asked me to stay another night with Mema, but I wanted to go see my new cousin. My aunt had just had a baby 2 days before. So I went to her house.


I always loved going to her house. She made milkshakes with m&ms in them, watched cool movies with me, colored with me, played board games until 3am, oooo she was the best aunt ever!!! My uncle? Oh he was cool too. He had a computer, with internet! He had a nice car with A/C and played cool music. That night after my aunt laid the baby down, he decided to pounce. He talked about how he was a nurse and blah blah blah. I had mentioned earlier that my stomach had been hurting toward the left side. Well, he said he needed to check it out and make sure it was nothing serious. I knew what he was doing. I was an honor roll student, for goodness sake. I froze. I didn't know what to do. I laid down on the couch, like I was instructed and he inserted 2 fingers in me, pretending to do and exam. When it was over he gave me a shot of what he said was B12 and went to bed. He took me to school the next day, and I told my teacher.

Interviews, cops, drinks, bathroom breaks, interviews, cops, drink, bathroom breaks, over and over and over. I was so tired. I just wanted to go home and forget all. It didn't seem like a big deal. All he did was use his fingers. At least that was ALL! Yea, I had a sick mentality. To me, what he did was nothing compared to what I had already been through. Looking back now, I don't know why therapists didn't see it. How did they think I was a normal child?

I had to go to therapy after that for a few weeks. By this time, I had learned the art of manipulation. I told the therapist what she wanted to hear so I could get out of there. It worked!!!! I can't believe it worked. I just  completely played her. I was pretty impressed with myself. Sick right? Yea, I know. We were at one of those appointments and Mama walked up to the store to get a beer before my mema came to pick us up. While she was at the store she ran into an old friend and her boyfriend. They offered to take us home instead of Mema. A few days later Mama's friend's boyfriend is at our house. What???? Turns out they broke up because he fell in love with Mama. ugh groooosssss. Fine. Whatever. I don't want to see the PDA.

As it turns out, he was pretty cool too. He let me smoke cigarettes. He had money!!!(not much, $40k a yr) He took us out to eat at The Clock, he bought drinks and candy from the store. He even bought me some clothes!! This was pretty cool. I was stable, and he had just bought a brand new trailer for all of us to move into. He was so cool. He was the daddy I never had! Then......we got the flu. It started out with him seeing how high my rib bones went. He made a comment like, "you're gonna have big boobs" or something like that. Again, I just froze. I mean, my mama was in the bed too. She didn't say anything. SHE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!!!!!!! How? How is that right there, not a red flag pretty much thrown in your eyeball?? So the abuse went from that to me having sex with him so that I could get a car or go on a date with my boyfriend.



Sorry to leave you hanging...oh wait. lol. I don't have any followers yet. :) I have a sleepy toddler so con't later.

Introduction to this blog

Blogging...hmmmm. Never really been my thing, but I'm going to try. I need to make a change and was told blogging about it might help. I'll start with my story and what I went through so that maybe you can have an understanding as to why this subject is so important to me.

I'm Kari. :-) I'm 24 years old and have 5 children, 4 girls and 1 boy. They are my WORLD!!!! I am married to my high school sweetheart/savior. That's the basic introduction. haha. 

So, I'm starting from the beginning.... I was born January 22, 1988. I came home to a mama, a daddy and a big brother. As far as I know, we were all very happy. I remember playing with legos. I remember being yelled at for leaving them in the floor. I remember my brother showing me my mama and daddy having sex. I remember him suggesting we try it. I remember my mama walking down the road crying. We were supposed to pick her up from work, but Daddy got preoccupied....with me. I don't remember all of what happened, and I thank God for that, but I do know he touched me in the places my brother did.....sexual places. I remember my mama waking me up and putting my in the station wagon loaded down with all our stuff. I asked if she got my teddy bear. I knew we were leaving, I think I wanted to. I was 3.

I remember being in a shelter of some kind. Just me, my mama, and my brother. No Daddy. I didn't like it there. I wanted to play with a car that was on a table and a mean little boy came and snatched it out of my hand. 

I remember pulling in a driveway and running in the trailer to inspect what would be my new home. No more shared rooms, community dinners, or weird people around me. There were 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. Of course my brother claimed the first room. I had to share with mama until she got me a daybed. Then I slept in the living room. There was a little girl, about my age, who lived near us. We played together a lot. I showed her how to draw pictures of a naked adult man and woman. Her mommy got very mad. I was never allowed to play with her again. I was a bad little girl. My brother's friends were still allowed to play with him so I joined in when they would let me follow them around. One time my brother said I would do anything and told me to go behind the trailer with one of his friends. His friend told me to pull my pants down. I did. A grown up, I can't remember who, walked around and caught us. I got in big trouble. I didn't understand. Mama and Daddy played with each other. My brother taught me what they were doing and how they did it. I didn't know it was wrong, yet no one ever told me it was. I just got grounded. If I played with my brother's penis until the white stuff came out, I got cool stuff. One time I got a tube of chapstick! I was 4-5 years old.

Okay sorry guys......I'll try to finish later tonight. Going back through this is hard. It's bringing back a lot of memories. I'm almost 1/2 way through it....I think. 

In the mean time, if you could, please sign my petition. http://www.change.org/petitions/sentencing-for-sex-offenders-harsher-sentencing-for-minor-abuse?utm_campaign=share_button_modal-share_image_experiment-F&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=share_petition