No one wanted us that is why my brother and I went from one foster home to another. The longest we stayed in a place was three months, and then we would be transferred again. Couples were often excited to see us at first but then eventually give us up.
I was hearing negative things about me. I wished they would not judge me because they did not know what I have gone through, what happened to me in the hands of my own father. They were not there when I was abused. According to John M. Grohol, PsyD, “Abused children often suffer from emotional and behavioral problems, which can later develop into sexual dysfunction, anxiety, promiscuity, vulnerability to repeated victimization, depression, and substance abuse.”
The abuse happened when I was only three years old. My mother died when I was one year old after giving birth to my brother. When I was five, my father left after abusing me, leaving my brother and me starving to death, until we were found and rescued by social workers.
My father did not come back and was nowhere to be found, and so we were put up for adoption. We were moved from one foster home to another until a lovely couple did adopt us eventually. They treated us like their own kids and have been so patient with us. I can see how much they cared for us and how happy my brother was. But in my case, I did not feel anything for them.
The Nightmares Haunt Me And Make Me Mad
According to Dr. Lynelle Schneeberg, PsyD, “A nightmare is a bad dream that causes a child to wake up with feelings of fear.” I often have nightmares about what my father did to me, and every time that would happen, I would go to my brother’s room and hit him non-stop. I can hear him crying. He would beg me to stop, but I just could not stop. I would scare him not to tell anyone that I did it, and in case someone sees his bruises, to tell them that it was his friend who did it. My brother has no other choice but to follow my instructions since he does not want to be transferred to another foster home again. He loves the new couple who adopted us.
I abused my brother out of anger towards my father, and I do not feel sorry about that.
I Am Different But Not Special
No one can keep a secret for so long. One afternoon, while having lunch, I was aggravated by my brother, and I followed him outside. I kicked him until he fell. I did not notice that my new parents followed us and caught me hurting my brother. I hit his head on the floor. Just like my other rage attacks, I could not stop until he was bleeding. My mom was holding and preventing me from hitting my brother, but I was unstoppable.
My parents noticed how different I was, my rages, and my sadness. I was a smart girl, manipulative and a good liar. According to psychologist Dr. Michele Barton, “A pathological liar is somebody who lies without effort, someone for whom telling a lie comes more naturally than telling the truth.”
My Therapy Session
They sent me to a therapist who showed me pictures of other kids like me and what they did. One kid set a fire, another killed pets, drowned someone, hit other boys, and many others. But the therapist said I was an exceptional child because I wanted to kill my brother and my adoptive parents. And I feel such anger because of the wound left by the abuse done to me at a very young age.
The therapist tried some techniques where I could blurt out my anger aloud which made me feel somewhat relieved.
Empathy And Compassion
My adoptive parents were so kind and so loving that they did everything to get me treated. They spent their savings on the therapist. They sent me to support groups with kids like me. They did everything so I will feel loved and cared for.
Years had passed. I am now 19 and had a realization of what I did especially to my own brother. There are still nightmares and anger I can feel inside me. There are times when I want to hurt others to bring out my rage. To not hurt my brother, I would try to hit my doll or shout out loud. Other times, I would run to my mom or dad and will tell them how angry I am. They would talk to me until they see me calm down. Often, my mom would embrace me and will keep on telling me how much she loves me and will never leave me.
I am aware of how my new parents tried to raise the money to be able to send me to join seminars, camps, and therapy sessions where I learned to control my anger and where I learned how to love and feel empathy for others.
I still have my moods, but I am now more aware of it. I am trying my best to be kind to my brother and not to get near him whenever I feel remorseful about something. My parents make sure to be there always to rescue me whenever I do something. I am putting more effort to be closer to my brother because I love him and I regret abusing him.
I am thankful to my adoptive parents for being so patient and for not giving up on us, not like the previous foster home that we were sent to. And I will not let their effort be put to waste for I know now that I too am capable of loving.