I found your web site through a link in one of the newsgroups. I have read most of your contributors stories. And having done so I thought I would like to add my contribution to your website. Assuming of course you want to use it. Mine is both a positive and a negative story. I honestly believe that there are positive encounters between adults and children that are beneficial to both parties. And these should be told.

I have kept this essay as short as I can as I do not know how much detail and information you would welcome. If you want to use this then please do. Also if you want a far more lengthy, detailed and open essay from me then I would be happy to send one.

It has taken me many years to come to terms with the early childhood abuse I suffered from my paternal father. I was not sexually abused by him but physically abused. My father was an alcoholic and a very violent man. I have strong vivid memories and still to this day occasional nightmares depicting the beatings that both my mother and I was subjected to. Although my mother never physically abused me and whether it was intentional or not she emotionally abused me. I could never turn to my mother for a cuddle or for the protection I needed. My earliest memories go back to when I was four, being hit with a leather belt because I was making a noise whilst my father was watching television. Quite often I was kept away from school because of marks, welts and bruises on my buttocks and legs from being beaten. By the time I was around 8 I had been categorised as a disturbed child in need of special schooling. It was about the same time that a set of events changed my life. I think without this happening I would of gone on to be an abuser (in the physical sense) in my adulthood.

During an almighty augment my father had beat my mother so severely that she had to be taken into hospital. Then with the intervention of the police and the social services all the abuse came to light. It was then I was taken into care. I was initially taken to a children's home but because of my behavioural non-compatibility I was moved into another home. Looking back I can only say I was at that time a very abusive, violent and disruptive child. I would hit, kick and punch members of staff. I would deliberately wet my bed, soil myself and also do physical harm to myself. Then I was again moved in to another home. This one was specifically for very disruptive children. It was run by the Church of England. It was within this home I experienced the negative side to my abuse.

At this home my antisocial and negative behaviour continued. Constant fights, soiling and self abuse continued. One of their methods of control was an isolation room. You were put in this room as a punishment when you became uncontrollable. The room was completely empty. It was dimly lit and had a small window in the door so members of staff could look in. You were basically left in there isolated until you became controllable. I was put into that isolation room many times. Quite often as I had soiled myself my clothes were also taken from me and I was put into the room naked. This practice of putting children naked into the isolation room was quite common. We would be checked about every half an hour or so. And if we hadn't calmed down sufficiently we were left for another half an hour. And so on. There was one member of staff, they were called house parents, who particularly disliked me. I was also very frightened of him. He was my y abuser was the senior house parent who was assigned to me. He would come into the isolation room and sexually abuse me. He obviously knew my background of being physically abused so I can only assume the abuse I suffered at his hands was orchestrated as the sexual abuse he inflicted upon me was designed to be painful. The abuse wasn't confined to the isolation room. Just after my tenth birthday he forced sexual intercourse upon me. He made the point quite clear because I was a bastard child as he called me when I was being raped as my birthday present. I can still remember his words 'this is what happens to bastard children like you'. He kept repeating this whilst he raped me..........(cont)