My First Time Seeing My Fathers Erect Penis

Today, I finally finished the book 'My Friend Anne Frank' which is about a Holocaust survivor. It was a very emotional read and I wish I knew of her when I was younger to give me hope. When I think of that little girl named Nicole, I think of hope... I hoped one day I would be something. Anything. In any way. I am the most sensitive person that I know and how I managed to survive living with my parents is a miracle. With my dad hitting me, stealing money from me, and molesting me... The only thing I could think of was hope. I won't lie... Sometimes my hope was running thin. Sometimes I cried myself to sleep because of the prison I was living in. I'm not sure if I talked about this in my blog, but I remember the first time I saw my dad's erect penis. I was under the age of 6. Every night he'd give us Nyquil to knock us out so he could sneak into our bedrooms. On this occasion, he gave us the Nyquil in his bedroom and when I looked down... I wanted to throw up. I literally almost gagged. What I saw when I looked down was his erect penis standing up out of his pajama pants hole. It looked like Patrick from Spongebob. I remember it was pink and it looked sickly. In my mind, I tried to justify my father because I loved him. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe it's something else hanging out of his pants? When I think about that moment, I want to cry and throw myself into the deepest river. I want to break everything in my sight. Why would you expose yourself to an innocent child? Why drug your kids and touch their private parts? It used to make me mad, now all I feel is sadness and an abundance of respect for me and my brother. Me and my brother were soldiers. No matter what happened at home, I always went to school with a smile. I was always kind and forgiving to my peers. I always made straight a's despite the big clothes that I wore to hide the bruises from my mom and dad beating me at times when I didn't do exactly as they said or didn't live up to their standards that they set for us. I had hope. I had big dreams for someone who had little to no resources. I survived living with my dad by the skin of my teeth with people telling me that he would kill me one day. In my own way, I made it. And I am forever grateful for that. Some days I get so low... and I forget about how hard it was living with my father. I don't take my days lightly because I've come so close to death. I haven't been feeling my best, but reading that book gave me a sense of hope inside. Thinking of little Sidney and Nicole brings me to tears... We were soldiers, fighting our own war in the walls of our home. I always had my chin up when my parents hit me. I never cowered. I always took my beatings in grace because I knew one day.. I'd survive. I'd be more than a punching bag. I'd be more than what my father told me I'd be. Little Sidney and Nicole are my heros and I look to them when I'm in my darkest times.