From: Dave Ellison <ellis@elim.u-net.com>
Organization: Dave Ellison Photodesign
The following message is from a handicapped woman who was abused by her mother. By reading what she has written, you will see that as a grown-up, she is still s**t scared of her abuser ( [her] mother ).
Unlike a lot of letters and articles found on the Internet this one is factual and can be verified by the author. She lives near her mother and although she has tried to make it anonymous, she feels that if her mother sees the letter and realises who wrote it, she will be in danger.
If anyone wishes to use this lady’s letter to campaign with, could you please contact me first and I will forward your request on to the lady in question, who will in turn contact you and verify that it is true and give permission to use it.
Please respect this lady’s wish.
regards
Dave
The letter from the abused lady follows:-
[Posted with permission by the originator. —WHS]
“““““““““““““““““““““““““I guess my area of expertise is that I am a Transcender (I dislike the term survivor) of the injustices you are fighting.
I know first hand how PAS [Parental Alienation Syndrome] and (my favourite) ‘Malicious Mother Syndrome’ felt. I saw the way it affected my sisters, and consequently how their abuses had repercussions for the next generation in my nieces and nephews.
My concern now is for other children
I know how it felt not to be able to have contact with my Dad - I remember how it felt when Birthday and Christmas cards and gifts had arrived and we were made to ‘take the f**king things back and don’t come home until you have’ - I know how it felt to see our mother’s smug expression when we received neither a card nor a gift from our Dad - But had to listen to her hate-filled comments that it proved our (always called ‘f**king ba*tard..) father didn’t care about us,
But I also remember when we were older, sneaking to meet him and he signing our birthday cards ‘from your special friend!’
I remember having to pretend we’d not heard our Dad, or Gran and Granddad, call us if they saw us on the street, because we’d had it screamed and hit into us that if she found out we’d spoken to or had contact with the ‘f**king bas*ards’ she’d kill us.
I remember how loving, the only love we ever knew, our Dad was.
I remember how he always remembered my favourite pop singer.
I remember he always made our favourite breakfast.
I remember one day, when we were young him coming into the kitchen after she’d taken their meal into the living room (meat, potatoes, veg), he’d cried and thrown his dinner on the floor, told her to get to the shops and buy us some food — I can only imagine how it must have felt for him to see his four little girls eating bread with sugar on.
I remember how when she left us we were so happy, though we didn’t understand why our Dad always cried - she’d taken nearly everything even the light bulbs out of their sockets.
I remember our Dad used to shout “Quick kids, it’s cartoon time!” and he’d laugh even more than we did - I remember how he made everything feel exciting.— but it didn’t last — she wanted ‘HER HOUSE’ Mothers always get the kids — he had to go — it was like a death sentence.
I remember praying she would die.
I remember asking God ‘Please, let me walk for just a few minutes so I can get upstairs and kill her.’
I remember always thanking Him that I was disabled - I had thought it was His way of trying to help me escape her violence and hate.
I remember my sisters were jealous of me - why couldn’t they have been disabled so they could go to hospital and ‘special school’ too.
I remember stealing a loaf of bread with my youngest sister - we were so hungry.
I remember how ‘she’d’ tell us ‘Here’s ten shillings — don’t come back ‘til 10pm’ because our family were coming to visit and it didn’t matter what the weather was like.
I remember my sisters running away time and again, but always being brought back then getting a beating after the policeman left.
I remember having to watch my sisters getting beaten and kicked and told if I didn’t stop sniveling I’d get the same.
I remember getting hit because a friend phoned to see how I was. I remember praying the ringing phone would never be for me.
But worse than all that, I remember my niece coming to me a couple of years ago and saying ‘If you don’t help me ‘run away’ I’ll have to kill myself’ The very words I’d used years before. I remember my niece asking me ‘Did my daddy love me’ It broke my heart — I was able to tell her I KNEW he had loved her. I knew he had tried to see her — I told her that sometimes a parent realises that to keep trying to see the children they love only makes it harder for the child — I told her her Dad was trying to protect her by not making her ‘mother’ angry — I could think of no words when she said ‘If it was my Daddy hurting me someone would have saved me wouldn’t they’
It HAS to stop!
Child abuse, and parental abuse are not ‘in the best interest of the child’ - When mothers abuse, children have nowhere to go — because no one believes them.
I don’t ever want to see another child suffer as we did. I don’t ever want to see a man (or woman) broken, crying, hurt, when his children are so scared they pretend they didn’t hear him call their name. I don’t ever again want another child to be so happy they are disabled — feel lucky - even though they never walked — because it got them away from home.
We were lucky in that we knew our Dad loved us — we were older when she got rid of him. No matter what evil lies she told we knew it was lies. I never want to hear of any child having to ask the question my niece asked me ‘Did my Daddy love me?’
No matter how ‘good’ or ‘kind’ a custodial parent is — if she or he makes a child feel their other parent does not love them — That is a most horrific form of child abuse. No matter how many kicks or thumps, black eyes or broken bones one suffered, no matter how scared you were at the time, nor how much they hurt — those pains will one day heal — what does not heal, what scars your soul and stays in your heart forever is thinking you are unloved - that is one of the scars that lives with you the rest of your life.
I will work with anyone who is genuinely seeking to end such atrocities.
I will work with anyone who wants all children to have the knowledge that no matter if their mum and dad can’t live together any more, they both still love the child and will never ever stop loving them nor stop having them involved in their new lives.
I will work with anyone who wants to ensure no child will ever again wish their abuser was male so they could have been helped.
I will work with anyone who wants to ensure that in the future no one else has to write the message I’ve just had to write.”
——————
I’m happy for you to use it in whatever way might help, Dave. I trust your judgment, and, as you say, you can always have it where folk need to go through you to contact me. I feel quite safe about that.
[unsigned]
Note: I have been in touch with the lady who wrote the letter. The letter is authentic. If you wish to get in touch with the lady, please do that by going through Dave Ellison. —WHS
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Write to Dave Ellison ABIPP
[U.K.] Equal Parenting Party ( North-West Representative )
Fighting for Children’s Right to keep BOTH Parents
Tel: 01925 727366……………Mobile: 07957 988015
