I have just finished posting the thread about the Dept of cosmetic services.
My two brothers and myself was subjected to significant abuse as children and we went every where trying to get help but ther was none availible.

We where put truogh such things as having our heads smashed into concrete floors, we wjhere pulled around by our hair untilwe urinated our selfs only to be beaten more for doing so. The person doing this used to protend to pass out and because we didnt rush to her side there was another savage beating. We used to be hit belts and cords to the stage the bruises used to bleed.

One day I remember coming home from school and my fathers girl freind (who was the abuser) called one of her daufghters out and asked if I had hung my towel up from the night before, the young girl looked at me from the bathroom picked up my towel and dropped it on the floor and told her mother that i hadnt she then preceded to beat me to a pulp throwing me to the ground ikicking me like a mongrel dog the beating seamed to go on for hours .

My brother finally got out when he went to the school councillor and told them what was going on and he never came home he was put into a home until our natural mother turned up to pick him up. When my brother went back to live with my mmother I rode in the car to the train station sitting on my real mothers lap.
I found out years later that my brother told our mother that the lady was going to beat my little brother and myself even more but she did nothing to help us .

We where members of the baptist church in Ballina and i went to himand let him know what was going on and as the person was a born again christian and she was a pleasant lady at church the response was sometimes children just need to stop and listen to what it is being asked of them.

I went to the sargent of the Ballina police and told him what was going on and his reply was if you dont stop running away from home Ill chuck you in a boys home and youll find out what a real floggin is all about.

One night she was beating my little brother and myself when she tryied to hit me in the head with one of those miniture cricket bats I blocked it with my wrist and it blew up really quick. I saw my oppatunity to get out and did. I ran and arn and ran I finally found this little place outside of town where a man put me in the shower and he counted 98 briuses on my body. He allowed me to stay there for 3 days but every night we went to bed he would hold my penis all night, after the third night he came back from town and he said you cant tay here anymore you have to go. By the time I got taken back home my father had decided to leave the lady in question. We went to our grandparents place and the second night we where there our natual mother turned up and took us back with her.

My mother had remarried a yugoslavian a mabn that refused to join the army over there so he had spent time in a military prison.

THIS IS NOT A HAPPY EVER AFTER STORY.

The only good thing to come out of this was that it has put me in a good place to understand my own childrens anxiety issues

Im sorry for any mistakes as this was not easy an easy thread to write again all apologies