my story.

my story is a little crazy with a splash of blessings on the side and a squirt of disappointment. 

when i was four years old i was taken away from my biological "birth"mom. i am one of the five kids she gave birth to. i am number four. 

number one is my sister.

 i never really had a relationship with her. she is 9 years older than me.

number two is my brother. 

we are close. he has always been protective. extremely. 

number three is another brother.

we are very close. he was my rock. he was my strength somedays. he gave me hope. he also always picked on me.

number five is my "little" brother. 

he is huge. super tall. i am just now starting to build a relationship with me. he also is protective of me.

here it goes.............

the night that cps (child protective services) and the cops came flooding into our two bedroom apartment still seems like it happened just yesterday. 

i was four.

it was late.

number one was gone.

number two was playing with number five.

number three was doing his homework at a table and using a candle for light.

he used the candle for light because we didnt have electricity. 

number four (me) was standing in the dining room area watching.

my birth mom was not home. 

her boyfriend was.

in the midst of hearing number five laugh.

number two make fun of number three we heard a huge bang on the door.

my birth mom's boyfriend jumped over. 

as he was looking through the peep hole the door was knocked in.

all i remember at that moment was running to number two. 

number two holding me. telling me he would keep me safe.

as a flood of police officers tackle my birth mom's boyfriend and handcuffed him. 

there was an army of other police officers with bright flash lights...........

knocking doors down. 

pulling everything out of every cabinet. 

flipping every mattress.

as the dust began to settle i dont remember that much.

by this time number two was still holding me and still reassuring me that he would protect me.

and there was an officer. a big officer. pushing a dinosaur in my face and making weird facial expressions all awhile trying to make me laugh.

if i had a cookie to give to him i probably would have given it to him, at least for trying to make me feel better. 

but the truth was all i wanted was for number two to hold me and for people to stop pitying us.

we were finally told to go outside. 

again, number two is still holding me. i was clinging onto him for dear life.

we walk outside and there stood two of my aunts and a van that we were told to get into.

we were taken to a local foster home. 

we were there for about 6-8months. 

i loved it there. 

it was so much fun.

they had food available for every meal.

i thought i was getting spoiled.

they had a room full of clothes for girls.

the only downside was that they kept boys on one completely different side than the girls.

which is completely understandable. except i had always slept next to or in the same room as my brothers as long as i could remember.

so the nights were EXTREMELY long. 

it was like christmas morning EVERY time i got to see my brothers.

i started getting used to my "new home."

then we were told that we were going to move in with my "Aunt Lue" and "Uncle Moe."

i was excited.

then i realized that me and number three were only going to Aunt Lue's house. 

and number two and number five were going with my "Aunt Sin."

i was disappointed. kinda mad. and really sad.

we moved in with Aunt Lue and the fun began. 

we had our own bed.

i felt so spoiled.

we were able to sleep in the same room.

loved.

we had meals at every mealtime. 

even though i got in trouble each mealtime because i was a picky eater. 

 i still felt loved. i felt so spoiled.

we took baths.

we were clean.

and most of all my Aunt Lue tucked me into bed each night and gave me a huge hug.

again i felt so spoiled.

after living with them for a few years my Uncle Moe got sick. 

he needed a transplant.

so my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe decided that me and number three needed to move out.

we ended up moving in with our grandparents in coalinga.

these grandparents were my dad's parents.

we lived with them for about 6 months before my grandpa started coming into my bed and sexually abusing me.

i remember the first night it happened. i felt so numb. dead. empty. scared. betrayed.

after he left i went to my brothers room. (number three)

we never said anything to each other that night.

i walked in and stood next to his bed. i was sobbing. 

he rolled over. looked at me. pulled his blankets back and i crawled in bed with him.

still sobbing. he covered me. put his arm around. 

the next morning my grandma (a drunk) came into his room. saw us sleeping and called me a whore. slut. tramp. 

she said only dirty girls sleep in beds with their brothers. 

that was when i realized what i needed to do to survive. 

i became very numb. i learned how to "protect" myself emotionally.

i put a HUGE wall up.

when number three left for the weekend. it was WAY easier for my grandpa. 

 because my brother who would protect me was gone. 

my grandma was so drunk she was passed out.

me and my brother (number three) would take turns spending the weekend with our dad.

after about a month of when my grandpa started coming into my room. 

number two gave up his weekends with our dad.

to save me.

after about three or four years of living with my grandparents.

we moved in with my dad. 

it was the best day ever.

i had my own room.

it was decorated.

i had a huge bed.

most of all number two came to live with us!! 

it was christmas morning.

we lived with our dad for about two years then he was arrested.

number two took the reigns and took care of us until he legally couldnt anymore.

we moved back in with our grandparents.

worst.feeling.ever.

we lived with them for about 5 or 6 months then we were asked to spend Christmas with my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe. 

after spending a couple days with them. they realized something was wrong.

i was extremely underweight.

my Aunt Lue and Aunt Sin pulled my brother aside. (number 3)

they asked him if we would like to move back in with them.

he said no.

he said he didnt want to because he was in high school and had a lot of friends.

BUT he did say, "take my sister. she isnt doing good. i cant protect her anymore."

being the noisy little sister i was listening outside the bedroom door and began weeping. 

after saying bye to my best friend. my brother.

i moved in with my cousin Kenya and her husband Ramon.

after about 6 months of starting to feel comfortable her husband, Ramon  started coming into my room at night and sexually abusing me.

i love to write. well i used to. i kept a journal. i wrote everything down. every detail of what he would do to me. i would question why i wasnt strong enough to over power him. 

it was my outlet.

till one day Kenya found my journal and asked me about it.

i remember feeling so relieved. 

and before i could say help me and yes your husband is a dirty pervert....

she said, "you have an inappropriate crush on my husband."

literally within hours i was moving back in with my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe.

i felt lonely.

not having any of my brothers around.

started to feel comfortable.

and about a year after moving in with them my Uncle Moe started sexually abusing me.

he started sexually abusing me my freshman year of high school and didnt stop till i moved out of their house when i was 20. 

once i finally moved out my life began to feel normal. but its when my life starts to feel normal that its when my world begans to fall apart.

through all of this ugliness. disgust. pain. 

i know that this is MY story. there is a purpose for the ugliness. disgust. and pain that i went through. 

and i WILL be made new. not by myself. not by my friends.

not by my fiance. not by books. not by counselors.

but my Savior. 

my prayer for my friends who are reading this blog is that you would not become overwhelmed with guilt. 

guilt that you should have know.

guilt that you should have done something.

guilt that you saw the signs.

guilt that you were a good friend and didnt know. 

but that you would be overwhelmed by the reassurance that my Savior is healing me.

is teaching me.

and that he will make me new. 

i can put my hope in that.

and my prayer is that you can too.