I Get to finally write it! It has taken me many drafts and patiently waiting. But I finally have reached the point of being able to conquer my healing. My victorious moment has come, where I’m able to close out all of those ugly, hurtful, and unforgettable memories. I have waited for many decades to reach this point of closing out this chapter! But friends we are finally here!

Closing Out my Hardest moments of my entire lifetime

I distinctly remember begging for this moment. At any rate, I knew that what I was enduring was going to require years of work to heal, if I ever did survive it. Consequently, all I asked for was the moment of him finally passing. I know it sounds brutal, but brutal was the abuse that I daily went through. And closing out this horrendous chapter was going to require many years of wisdom and realignment.

I was just an innocent child that had no one to defend me. Looking back, I was vulnerable and left in the open for the abuser to act out all of his fiery on to me. At first, his presence triggered me, and that was because my only memories of him were of danger.

Even to this day, I can close my eyes and feel all the emotions from our first meeting (and I was just shy of 2 years old). From that first encounter, in all of your visits they are memories of us running away for safety. Every single time, there were fights, whippings, bleeding, chaos, and lots and lots of running for shelter.

The author first meeting her abuser and in the arms of those who wouldn't accept her and love her as every child deserves

I went from being a witness to getting it Firsthand

1994 the year, that my personal hell started. We migrated to the USA and the visits shifted from yearly to now, living within the same household. Evidently, I got it first hands. You see, I thought that the best way to beat it (the monster), was to stand up just like my role model and fight with our ROAR. Boy! Was I wrong, my 7-year-old body got thrown against that wall like when you through a toy to the ground out of tantrum.

Unfortunately, in the USA we were immigrants and as a result no hideouts places to run to. It was either telling him to STOP or witness him killing her. I would beg her to leave him and restart her life with just us, away from him. She would find every excuse to not leave, and every week the cycles would continue.

if only that little innocent smily me would know what was yet to come! A nightmare that I wish never came.

No choice but to confront the MONSTER

The only way to halt it all, was to take my chances at the lion’s den. He would grab me hungrily and beat me till my body gave in, leaving me with just enough life in me to repeat it again and again. I soon became accustomed to the beatings. It was with his heavy hands, huge belt buckles, at time even electronics cables too. Oh! them cord cables would leave my gentle, soft, skin, swollen for days. Even the softest clothes would hurt on my skin.

Eventually I learned to holistically find things around the house for the bruising and pain. She taught me, to hush and internalize the crying, as it would just leave me weaker and more vulnerable for the next time that he would come again. At last crying did nothing, so I learned to hide all of my pain and flip the memory shut.

My victorious closing out from narcissistic abuse

The most painful and hurtful of it all was the bullying and abuse in front of anyone that found it amusing. Consequently, he would use every second of us being in the same room to put me down and show case me, as he would call it (a piece of worthless shits). Also, he would do it nonstop and train everyone else to treat me the same.

He would say he was teaching me valuable life lessons. At the very least I was going to become someone that would serve as exemplary to society. In which those that who witness it will learn what not to do, as they got front seats of the results of such consequences.

Surrounded by hell and lonely by no one by your side

Many adults tried to speak up and were turned out and shut away. Some even called the child protective services, only for the caseworker to show up and the lessons to intensify. To Include, many would try to confront him on a personal level, and he wouldn’t care one bit. He felt untouchable and gave no one a reason to his actions.

Some individuals (guardian angels) would comfort me outside the home. Those are my happy, hopeful moments. You see, I always had someone from outside that tried to shelter me and make me feel better. Even if it meant seating with me and crying them tears that my eyes wouldn’t produce.

I got warm hugs, food and even words of encouragement. Always had a mentor, that saw my suffering but also my potential. I recall, getting books from strangers to which I would succumb all of my hopes into. Because of them, I survived and can now write my story, my narrative!

Hurtful memories- Too many to even write out

I have so many profound ones. I recall, being just 13 years old, and given the task of going to the corner store. Within the request to go buy some quick groceries, was the impossible challenge of getting him lotto tickets, with just 20mins to spare before the close out of the lottery machines.

On that day, I ran as fast as I could and remember rushing through the doors of the store (bodega). I yelled to the cashier “Hurry, please cash me out”!!! his response was “don’t you see!! I’m in the middle of this WIC transaction and can’t do the Lotto tickets”.

As I stood in front of the register, closely looking at the clock in front of me, I begged him to please just cash me out. That STUPID lady in front of me, took forever to finish up. When the clock hit 8:00pm, I knew my luck had run out. Tears just ran down my face, I took 3 minutes to walk back (prepping for what was to come).

This one left one of the biggest impressions in me

Right before, I took a deep breath and begged my mom to please help me confront him. As, this was not my fault. But as always, she said I was on my own. As a result, it was my issue to deal with and she once again left me in the open. As his very large hands came straight to me, I remember shaking and almost peeing on myself. (Maybe I did indeed pee on myself). It was all very synchronized to even section out the details.

By the time I opened my mouth trying to explain, he just took his two giant hands and went straight to my ear drums with all his force (like when you hit 2 cymbals and bang them together forcefully!). Immediately, I collapsed. Till this day, I could still vividly remember the shooting pain and ringing of my ears. Above all, I was mad, (ugly mad) at the world for waking up from that hit.

Some scars have left some traces behind

I still get pain from certain tones and get sporadic ringing in my ears. An acute reminder of his brutality. So many horrific memories. One after another for 11 years straight. I begged her love, her acceptance only to hear the story of how I was an unwanted pregnancy that prevailed all attempts of abortion.

Pain on all levels, I carry, in which for many years had no one to share my stories with. From her, it never was as bad as I recount it. And from them (my siblings) it for sure wasn’t as bad as I claim because I survived it all and there is no plausible explanation to all the hate and abuse from neither side.

Years, many all through adulthood that I couldn’t explain my situation. Years of seeking therapy and trying to heal from it all. Even to the point of reaching out to different religions. They say I’m strong, and some days I wish I could believe it too. It was them books I crossed paths with of other survivors that helped me cling to hope, that I too will one day survive it all and reach my closing out moment!

Healing from narcissistic abuse is when you no longer care for the offenders

I recall listening to this video by Doctor Ramani (she explained it to the T). Who thanks to her, I finally got to understand it all and got validation to my abuse. It’s an indescribable feeling to have some reassurance, in the fact that my voice of abuse is valid, and I don’t need to shut it up after all.

I no longer have to think or care for his presence because he is dead and legitimately buried underground. He can no longer call and reach out to me. All I have is those found memories that I now get to express without fear. I get to share it however and cry as loud or silently as I want to. I get to cross the other side and look back as far as I want!

As for her, I have gotten the choice to choose, the same she chose time and times again. I get to accept that I have no control over someone else’s lack of unconditional love towards me. I get to preserve my dignity and move one from begging. My only wrongdoing was to have an innate attraction/attachment towards the womb that hosted me.

Also, them all decided early on that I was and will never be part of their pact. (Regarding each one of my 5 siblings). But in some ways, it has been my blessings. I might never know what it is to have an alliance with my first-generation bloodline but that’s just part of my journey. Even though, they made the decision for me, I’m no longer in need of their acceptance or my own understanding of their actions towards me.

Finally, My turn has come

I get to fly and embrace my life! To laugh, cry, and enjoy all of it without fears. Without turmoil. CHAINS GET TO GET UNCUT!!! Rainbows after every dark storm. My wish is for those who have endure any type of abuse to be freed and to be able to close them chapters whichever way they choose to close them.

Whenever you think that you’re going through something, know that you’re not alone! Hold on to hope that tomorrow it’s a day closer to your victory. No matter what keep on pushing and never stop looking forward! These are just my wishes to you or anyone else that might have gone or is still going through anything remotely similar to my journey/situation.

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