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    To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space
    To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space
    To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space
    Ebook90 pages1 hour

    To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space

    By Denise Jones

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    About this ebook

    This book is about my horrendous experiences as a young girl. How I survived and started the long and difficult journey of healing. The struggles of overcoming my drug addiction. The hopeless loss of trust. Living with my trust chip missing. Looking back on my lif

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPrime Seven Media
    Release dateNov 12, 2024
    ISBN9781961438040
    To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space

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      Book preview

      To Be Disrespected Just for Occupying Space - Denise Jones

      This book is for healing and moving forward in a positive way. The entries of a little girl lost is my life, what I went through as a little girl.

      It took me over 20 years to begin to look in the mirror and find a way back. The rape I experienced at 11 years old changed the path of my life. I struggled for years to find someone that I could trust. My trust chip was destroyed. Never came back. I’m 77 and my health is not great.

      I need to give abused girls and women direction and courage to find love and respect for themselves. Self-love is the first thing necessary to have a positive life.

      I experienced these stories, these horrific things at an early age. I hope this book is an eye-opener for abused girls to stop and find something good about themselves. Our healing begins with ourselves.

      I looked in the mirror one day and finally saw something good and beautiful about me. Stay positive and strong. God Bless.

      This story is about the devastation of growing up without love and acceptance. Being abused raped and sodomized. Treated like I was a being tolerated more than appreciated for who I was.

      Writing the book is closure for me and the hope of being able to save some young girl from herself. I have been though a lot. My patience with bullshit is zero. I absolutely hate liars, phonies and users.

      I have developed into a 77-year-old woman who has no filter. If the truth is known most people can’t understand who I am or what I’m about. Living my life now is difficult. Poor health. Chronic pain. Isolated from relationships.

      Even to this day. My ability to trust has been damaged. I actually prefer to be alone. I wish that I could feel the warmth of love from someone other than my pets. I love the few people that I have let in my life.

      I love them dearly, not being sure if they will desert me. Sadly, to this day it is still hard for me to believe that anyone will want to be close to me once they get to know me. How sad, huh. Yeah. I’m who I am and have no interest in changing for anyone. That is the truth.

      Cut and dry. I live with 5 beautiful little cats, lol one little dog and six birds. We are ok. We love each other and are ok left alone. Animals can teach us humans a lot about compassion and emotional honesty. I am living in Canada now. I prefer Los Angeles, that’s right. I spent many years there. My mentality is more American.

      I’m too straight out the box for a lot of Canadians. I don’t waste time with words and useless emotions. It’s all or nothing. I’ve been trapped in poverty most of my life. Struggling to survive, it’s not even about the money. Sure, it’s a necessity to have a place to live, food, health care. A little nest egg for emergencies. But having the actual ambition of becoming rich? Never had it. We can’t get to heaven in a Cadillac.

      Having my special gift of intense intuition all my life has also saved me many times from myself and people that wanted to hurt me.

      It’s never been about material things. Sure, I like pleasant things, don’t misunderstand me. But they don’t come first.

      What is the sad reality of my life? I know that there are many people that know what I’m talking about and can understand the meaning of leftovers.

      I struggle everyday with the lack of interest in letting people in to penetrate my protective barrier that has been developed over the years.

      Having an identity problem from being adopted and never really knowing my true roots somewhat changed upon finding my beautiful brothers. That has been the best positive experience about being accepted for myself.

      People come into our lives for the purpose of becoming aware of who we really are and loving who we are. Time for everything.

      Faded Memories

      One time when my mother took her nap in the afternoon. I hid under the table; I still can’t figure out why I was hiding. So weird some of the things I do remember. What was I afraid of?? Like I said. I don’t remember any happy times, none. That’s deep.

      I had this uncle that was shell shocked in WW1. He used to visit us at the weekends. We used to have this long walk thru closet from his room to mine.

      I still don’t remember whether he was in my room or not. Whether it was reality, or it was a nightmare, this memory I have of him.

      He definitely was a war leftover and weird as hell. I was very afraid of him.

      When I used to get punished for about everything I did, I would have to go to the basement. I was forced to run up and down the stairs a whole bunch of times, and write I must not do this; I must not do that. I remember sitting on the top of the basement stairs being scared shitless.???? Why??? I don’t have any memory of my sister doing this.

      My adopted parents had a real daughter. We weren’t close. She was my mom’s favorite. My dad used to stick up for me a lot. But he couldn’t do much because my mother was in charge. He was hen pecked big time.

      I got very depressed the couple times I went home to visit. It had to be the flash backs getting to me.

      The story of my assault at age 11 is that I was sodomized and raped by an older guy 17 year old who worked for my dad. This incident ruined my life, my journey was completely shattered after that.

      He picked me up from the skating rink one chilly winter night. He worked for my dad doing winter chores and farming and ate dinner with us many times. He asked if I wanted a ride home. I trusted him.

      It was a tiny town In Manitoba in the dead of winter. He took me out of town, stopped the car. Grabbed me

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