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Recovery From Multiple Shootings And Suicide In A Family.

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Loloma

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My childhood was one of sexual, physical and psychological abuse which I survived. I spend many years blocking out the memories quite successfully until my late twenties. It started to unravel just after my second son was born.

I received a phone call from my older sister asking me to be a witness for my youngest sister. My father had been sexually abusing her, so she said and a they wanted to take him to court. She was trying to get me to admit that I had been sexually abused also. We starting arguing and I informed her that I didn't want anything to do with it, and had no idea what she was talking about. I hung up the phone, stood there confused and shaking.

Nothing ever eventuated, my Mother made sure of that. She managed somehow to persuade my young sister to tell the Police that she'd made it up. I left Australia with my family and went overseas to live. My marriage was a farce, however I was coping okay. To my way of thinking it wasn't that bad. I was living in denial, totally and utterly. To the outside world all looked good, perfect kids, home and husband. Behind closed doors it was different. Violence towards me and the boys, constant sexual abuse living in hell.

Another nine years past, then I received a phone call from my estranged father. My youngest brother had been shot dead. He was only twenty one and had been found at the back of house against the wall, shot through the head with a rifle. One of my brothers had found him and was sitting there with his head in his lap. It took two hours for the Police to let him go. This was the first shooting.
 
My PTSD also comes from a childhood of abuse of all different types.

I know the denial, I know the feeling of being completely convinced in your own mind that there was legitimatly nothing wrong with what happened.

But I also know I would never be able to live with myself if I knew another child was going through what I went through and I did not do anything and everything in my power to stop it. Are you still living with an abusive husband? Does your father still have access to your sister? Are your kids still be subjected to the kind of violence you described?

You are an adult now, as such you have responsibility and obligations. If it is a question of other people's safety, you don't have the right to be conscienciouss denial. You don't have the right to do anything short of take any and all action to protect not only yourself but those around you who you know are in danger.
 
Ronin, I appreciate your comments and will try and answer your questions.

This is the beginning of the story not the end. This portion of the story took place twenty seven years ago. I am no longer living with an abusive husband. He was my first husband and we separated sixteen years ago. My father died in 1989. And my sister in now grow up. My children are also grown up. I am sorry that you thought that maybe I was not protecting the people I should of.

I didn't give an indication of the time line when I started writing this story and ended abruptly. Please accept my excuses for the confusion. When I am up to it I will try and proceed further so it perhaps makes more sense.
 
I know the denial, I know the feeling of being completely convinced in your own mind that there was legitimatly nothing wrong with what happened.

You are an adult now, as such you have responsibility and obligations. If it is a question of other people's safety, you don't have the right to be conscienciouss denial. You don't have the right to do anything short of take any and all action to protect not only yourself but those around you who you know are in danger.

I want to comment further on your response. Despite what you think you do not know what is going on in someone else's mind. The problem was it was locked deeply in my mind and at that time I could not remember. It did not come back to me until I was forty two and had a major breakdown.

As far as responsibility's and obligations are concerned, every family's situation is different.You have to understand the family dynamics. If you are brought up in a family where from birth there was nothing but psychological, sexual and physical abuse on a daily basis, you live in survival mode. Accepting abuse becomes a way of life and even as an adult it is difficult to step in and stop it. With me it was fear that stopped me. I married (husband one) who turned out to be a cross between my mother and my father. Hence the abuse continued towards me and my children. I cannot describe the depth of the fear I felt. It took me watching him try to strangle my son, before I stood up and stopped it. I have to live with the guilt and shame of that all of my life.

I was a battered wife in the seventies and eighties, who had no family support and nowhere to turn to. I left twice and returned as he stalked me and even going to court didn't help. The male judge then said "You must of done something to piss him off". So much for help. It took me twenty eight years to leave him. So how could I do anything to protect myself, let alone anyone else under the circumstances.

My life as a child was spent helping raise and look after my siblings. My mother had fourteen children and I was the oldest at home from the age of fourteen. I did not have a childhood, that was taken from me before I knew I was a child. I had no rights, no say in anything. My job was to obey and accept what was handed out without question. They blamed me for the death of my baby sister who I was looking after when I was twelve. They had gone out for the day and left me with my siblings. She caught a virus and died within twenty four hours. They made me go to the funeral to see what I had done. I hope this gives you a better insight into my life. Just because you are an adult, doesn't mean you have the capacity to think rationally like an adult.
 
I get exactly where you are coming from (((((Loloma)))))

As adults we are still that child because we had fear beaten into us as a child. We were expected to grow up too soon and behave like an adult, even though we were still children. Yet we were never allowed to grow up mentally.

And that continued into adulthood, so you think as an abused fearful child who accepts abuse as the norm. Even though you are now an adult and could move on, you are still shackled by that childhood.

Keep telling your story... There is so much that can be learned from it. It will help so many others. And it will help you to get it all out.
 
I was living in Europe when my brother died and could not attend his funeral. The last time I had seen him he was thirteen. He died aged twenty one so I missed seeing him grow into a man, which I regret. He was very handsome and fortunately I have video footage of him that I play now and then.

Because of my fathers involvement in the drug world, little was done about the death and it was quickly hushed up. It is amazing what you can do with money. I rekindled the relationship with my parents and six months later we returned to Australia. Settled into life, I found a job and broke up with my husband, this was my first attempt.

Ten months after the death of my brother the phone call came that my young sister had been found dead in her apartment, shot through the chest with a shotgun. She was recently divorced and her children were living with her ex. I knew she had been having a difficult time after her divorce. Although she had been given custody of her children, she had decided to give them to her ex. He had threatened to go to the police and report my father's activities in the manufacture of amphetamines. We had all been warned to keep our noses clean and not make waves or there would be consequences. We knew what that meant after what had happened to my brother. Have to stop for now.
 
I get exactly where you are coming from (((((Loloma)))))

As adults we are still that child because we had fear beaten into us as a child. We were expected to grow up too soon and behave like an adult, even though we were still children. Yet we were never allowed to grow up mentally.

(((Lizio)))

You hit the nail on the head. It is so difficult trying to explain so that others understand. Becoming a responsible adult mentally under though's circumstances is very hard and at my age I'm still learning. It is incredulous that it is that way. But you know yourself that never having been taught boundaries and all the other normal responses that a child needs for later life can totally f**k up the rest of your life and the life of your children.
 
My sister was twenty six and dead. She had three little girls between the ages of four and one and a half, poor little things. It has had a devastating impact on their lives every since.

I was once again heart broken, sad and going through a rough time myself. However this time at least I could attend her funeral. When ever I think of it tears come to my eyes. She was so beautiful, young and had so much to live for. She lay in her coffin in a white lace antique dress that my father had bought for her. It was so sad, she looked lovely and they had made her look nice. I was annoyed because they put on make-up and forgotten the lipstick. Her lips were blue. It's crazy how I remember that. She was buried next to my brother. My father had bought eight grave sites next to each other. :eek:

No autopsy was performed, all hushed up again. My father was very upset, my mother in denial. My mothers schizophrenia was a relief for her at this time. I heard later that my father had tried to leave the organisation and this is the way they stopped him. Once your in, your in for life. They go after your kids, not you.

My father sent one of my brothers to clean the blood off the walls in her rental apartment, I have the feeling he lacked empathy. Always getting one of his kids to clean up the mess.
 
Loloma- I have to admit, I am sitting on the edge of my seat, your posts are so gripping. You were living a nightmare.

I find it disturbing that he bought so many grave sites/plots. As if he knew... what a nightmare. You must have lived under such fear- no- terror! I am so sorry. :cry:
 
Simplekindofgirl,

I don't know how I felt, feelings were a luxury back then. Survival mode kicked in and denial I guess. As siblings we never spoke of it, probably because it was too painful. I really don't know how to explain it. Mind you I did end up in hospital years later for a long time. Once I was triggered enough and the feelings escaped.

Don't know why he bought the plots, ironic to say the least. Four were sold later. The rest are occupied by my parents.
 
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