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A Story Of Incest And One Of Its After Effects

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Incest And One Of The After Effects

If my story was a piece of fiction and I read it somewhere I would say that the plot was unbelievable.

But this is not a piece of fiction it is the story of how I came into the world. Then against the odds survived my first unwashed and unloved year on this planet. This is not a tale written to elicit pity.

I am writing this to show how some good can come from evil. How a waste product or an after effect that almost no one wanted, can go on to be and live a productive and happy life.

My Lovely Mam and Dad

This is the lovely couple that gave me a loving home and a fabulous brother

This is the lovely couple that gave me a loving home and a fabulous brother

Unloved And Unwanted

I started off unloved and unwanted. I was born in 1946 to a mother who was only twelve and a half years old when she had me.

My father sexually abused my mother, and I was the result of this abuse. As you can imagine this led to some weird relationships.

My father and my mother's father are the same. My mother also my stepsister. My grandmother also my stepmother. My father also my grandfather.

What a mess.

Not a Welcome Addition to the Family

As you can imagine I was not a welcome addition to the family. My adopted mum told me that my father went to prison for what he did. She also told me that my father was not allowed to return home until I was no longer there.

My mother at twelve and a half years of age was only a child herself. I cannot imagine how someone so young could cope in this situation.

My mother clearly was too young to care for me, and my grandmother, I imagine, couldn't bear the sight of me. In my grandmother's eyes I suppose. I was to blame for this situation coming to light.

After all, it was my existence that brought this dark secret out into the open. Along with the revelation came the consequences. Which was I suppose, in my stepmother/grandmother's eyes, was why her husband/my father, was in prison.

The First Eleven Months Of My Life

I spent the first eleven months of my life usually unattended. I spent most of my time lying on my back in a pram in the hallway of a small terraced house.
When my adoptive parents took me home for the first time, I was dirty, malnourished and covered in sores.

The sores were from where I had lain in my wet dirty nappies in the soiled pram.
I had a bald spot on the back of my head where I had rubbed off my hair on the back of my head from always being on the pillow.

I had weeping sores from my heels to my shoulder blades. My mum originally thought that I had dark curly hair. But when she washed my hair for the first time she found out that it was in fact blond and straight.

Unwanted, Hated, Rejected and Unloved

I was unwanted, hated, rejected and unloved, even before I took my first breath. After I was born I was also uncared for and neglected and it didn't get better it got worse.

At twelve months old I couldn't stand up never mind walk. I had wasted little legs, which I had never even stood on.

No one had lifted me out of my pram to play with me and no one wanted to give me cuddles.

They gave me the least attention that they could get away with giving me.
My own two children could both walk at ten months. When my adoptive parents took me home with them I was 12 months old. Here I was at thirteen months old unable to stand on my own never mind walk.

I was not only a mess physically, but I was damaged in every other area too. From the neglect I learned that crying for attention only got me negative attention. So I didn't cry any more.

I had learned that whenever I did get picked up, it was never a particularly pleasant experience. So I didn't like being picked up.

The earliest photograph of me

This is a hand coloured photograph of me and my brother.

This is a hand coloured photograph of me and my brother.

She’s Bad Blood She’ll Bring Nothing But Trouble

I was not the ideal baby that people long for. I wasn't a cuddly cheerful or happy baby, and I didn't give my new parents lots of love back.

I also brought trouble into my new family. My dad's step- mother said I was bad blood and would bring nothing but trouble.

I was not only bad blood and trouble but they would not accept me as a member of the family.

My mum and dad later had a son of their own. My brother was the first grandchild born in the family. Of course the grand-parents sent a Christmas present down for their new grandson.

But of course they did not send one for me, after all I was not part of the family.
My mum, God bless her, sent the present back saying, you send presents for both or for neither.

So at the age of three and a half I was begrudgingly accepted into my dad's family. This was only because they wanted my brother more than they didn't want me.

All these things shaped my personality and my perceptions. I experienced everything in my early life through the filter of these experiences.

This resulted in me having no self- esteem, I always saw myself in a poor light. I was full of fear, especially in the area of other people's opinions.

I had huge feelings of inferiority and inadequacy. I also lacked confidence and felt self conscious. Most of the time my feelings of insecurity felt overwhelming.

Life was a battle most of the time, but it was a battle that never showed on the surface.

I wad anxious in almost every situation. I was pitifully eager to please, and even the slightest thing could damage me.

I damaged so easily that imagined things were as harmful to me as real things. For example, if I thought someone was talking about me, that was enough. Someone didn't have to actually talk about me, I only had to think they were. Imagined or real the damage unfortunately is the same.

So how did I change? Change from being a hurt, rejected and unwanted person. A person full of insecurities and low self esteem.

How did I change from a person that was self conscious, anxious and feelings of inadequacy? Someone with an inferiority complex that were it an Olympic sport I would have been a gold medal holder.

I wish I could now detail a five point plan to follow for which I could take the credit showing how I overcame but I cannot. I had tried everything I knew to try and it made no difference.

I left school at fifteen poorly educated. But I had a hunger for knowledge and a passion for reading. Slowly I got the education that I thought would help me overcome and solve some of these problems.

I earned B.A.hons degree in Psychology. After my degree I could trace things back and see how I got to be the person I was.

I discovered the causes of most of my problems but knowing the how and why didn’t change a thing.

I also took some Clinical Theology Courses and I watched others transformed. But still I stayed the same.

Re boot and restore manufactures default

So at thirty five I was still as messed up as ever so what happened to change all that?

Now is the time to bail out if you don’t want to hear about God's part in all this. How he rebooted my system and restored the manufactures default settings.

I had been a church goer most of my life. But, up until this encounter with God this had only made things worse.

Worse because on top of everything else, I never managed to live up to how I thought a Christian should live. So this added another big lump of guilt and failure to my already struggling life.

What follows is an incident that changed my life. An incident in which God showed me that I was not unwanted, unloved or unacceptable to Him.

I am not trying to sell you the Christian way of life or change your views. I am only sharing with you an incident that turned my life around and changed everything.

I had gone to see my minister over some problem I was having, what that problem was I now can't remember. But as I was being prayed with, the minister said that God was showing her that I was angry.

I didn't feel angry. But back then I didn't feel much at all most of the time. I had in fact built up a protective wall around myself and for much of the time I was emotionally numb. Not that I knew I was emotionally numb, because I knew nothing else and I thought that what I felt was normal.

Emotionally at that time I was pretty much a flat liner. So what the minister was saying to me didn't make much sense to me at all.

The more we prayed the more the minister kept saying that all God was showing her was this deep seated anger in me.

By now I was getting pretty irritated with this, but still I didn't feel that the minister was right.

So I asked the minister a question. The question was more to shut her up and to get her to move on to something else than to get an answer.

I said "OK, if I am angry then ask God who or what I am angry at." The answer that came back to this question was the last thing I was expecting or would have thought of.

The minister said that I was angry with God. I thought she was so far off the plot that she had left the planet.

I was about to tell her this, when I heard this awful mournful sound and it was coming up from deep inside of me.

I think I was more surprised than the minister was at what was happening. From deep within there was a mixture of rage, anger, despair, rejection and loneliness.
All coming out in the form of this deep wailing noise. As it came up I could see myself as a tiny baby, in a pram in the hallway of a house.

I was alone, left unattended in the pram lying in my soiled nappy, and soiled bedding.

I was smelly, dirty, hungry and neglected; my flesh covered in sores from lying in my own mess.

I knew about these things because my mum had told me about them once years ago. But being the emotional cripple that I was. I was not moved at all by it back then.

But, as I saw this, and I mean really saw this, for the first time, I began to rage at God. If you are a God of love how could you let me be born like this.

How could you leave me all alone crying and ignored. How can you say you love me, and yet let this happen to me?

On and on I went until I had spent all this anger and rage that had been pent up inside of me. I had pushed all this so far down inside and that I had hidden it from everyone, including me.

I called God everything unpleasant I could think of. I blamed him for everything bad that had happened to me.

I only finished my tirade when I had spent all my anger and had at last spewed it all out of me.

But, God ever gracious somehow took me back again to that small baby lying neglected in the pram.

This time though I saw that I wasn't alone, and I never had been. No matter how I felt at the time, the reality was that I had not been alone.

This time I saw that I was in the centre of God's love and compassion. Every hurt, every rejection, every piece of neglect that I suffered, God was right there.

God somehow showed me; that what ever was happening to me, He took it personally.

When I say He took it personally I mean really personally. It wasn't like it was done to Him. God showed me that it was done to Him.

When they neglected me, they neglected Him, and when they didn't love me, they didn't love Him.

God hadn't abandoned me, but had stayed with me throughout it all and He not only wept with me He wept for me.

God actually felt every part of my pain and my rejection because it was His pain and rejection too.

I know this was not just some fanciful thing that my own mind conjured up; I know that it was God who showed me this.

When I read this passage of scripture some time after this experience it brought me to tears. I then not only had this experience which told me this is so; I also had God's word in which He told me the same thing..

Matthew 25:42-45 (Living Bible)
42 For I was hungry and you wouldn't feed me; thirsty, and you wouldn't give me anything to drink;
43 a stranger, and you refused me hospitality; naked, and you wouldn't clothe me; sick, and in prison, and you didn't visit me.'
44 "Then they will reply, 'Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?'
45 "And I will answer, 'When you refused to help the least of these my brothers, you were refusing help to me.

Even after suffering that barrage of verbal abuse from me, God didn't get offended and touchy with me.

God didn't respond to the injustice of my accusations and assumptions. Instead He treated me with patience, gentleness and loving-kindness.

God wonderfully healed wounds that I didn't even know that I was carrying at that time.

In that moment He showed me contrary to everything that I felt, everything that others had said to me, it was not so.

I was wanted because He wanted me, and I was loved because He loved me. I was acceptable because He accepted me.

He showed me all this and I saw it. Then I knew all that He had shown me was true and I knew it in my knower not in my head.

It was as simple as that. For the first time I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was loved and accepted. I also knew that I didn’t have to do anything to get God's love and acceptance nor did I have to do anything to keep it.

This knowledge destroyed all those negative things and I was miraculously set free.

As I write this I am aware that I have let some of these things creep back in. They nestle just below the surface waiting to pull me down. But thank God, just the retelling of this has released me once again.

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