My Story...

I was born to a mentally challenged mother whom physically abused me and allowed different men to physically and sexually abuse me as well. I won't go into details on this blog as this reaches different age levels of readers.  Lets just say that back in 1984 it was one of the worst cases the Fort Worth Police Department had ever seen... As the CPS Investigator told my current mom... It was the worst in Tarrant County at the time. It was so bad it made the news..


I remember a lady named Sheryl "befriended" my biological mother and her husband (my "step dad"). She became my friend and I felt very comfortable talking to her about things that were happening to me.  One day she came to our house and my mom told Sheryl that she needed to take me because she was fixing to kill me.  Sheryl didn't know what to do but she knew she had to get me out of that house one way or another, so she "kidnapped" me and took me to her house.  I don't remember how long I was at her house but I remember being woke up one night by screams and banging on all the doors and windows. Everyone was frantic and scared.. Next thing I knew the house was surronded by cops, TV news crews and helicopters.. I was rushed out wrapped in a blanket handed to a woman who got in the back of a police car with me.


I awoke the next morning in a strange place, scared and alone... I was in a Foster home... My old life left behind... Mommy and all...


Strange as it may sound, considering all that I had endured... I loved my "Mommy" and I didn't want to leave her.. She was all I knew..


I was adopted at the age of 5 by my birth mothers cousin and her husband and they loved me as their own..


I lived with them until the age of 17 when I decided I knew it all.. I knew EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING and could not be told different..


I met a guy and fell madly "in love" and since I knew everything I decided to run away and go live with him.  We moved into a drug infested neighborhood which in turn led me to become addicted to drugs... Methamphetimines to be exact..


The beatings started the second night of us living together..


He would beat me so bad I thought he would kill me. He would punch, slap, kick, bite me etc etc... All because he loved me... I thought this was what love really was... I mean after all... My biological mom and dad loved me and they did all those things.. This is what love is so I might as well get used to it..


I was knocked out, hung off a bridge, beat with anything he could find, drug by my hair down a flight of stairs and accross a gravel parking lot.... All because he "loved" me...


He would drive me out to the country... Beat me until I was almost unconscious then rape me repeatedly.. On the way back into town he would tell me how much he loved me and that he only did these things because he was so scared of loosing me.


Why did I stay you ask... "Your stupid for putting up with it" you might say "You deserved what you got for not leaving" you might think.... But you see leaving takes careful planning.. Or you might just get killed.. It takes so much strength and courage to leave and I didn't have either of those.. He had sucked all my strength, courage, self esteem and self worth right out of me... He LOVED me... I mean he told me so, He told me each time how sorry he was... I thought I could change him... I could make him love me... I was dead wrong and almost died trying...


I did finally get the courage to leave... after 7 long years... I am remarried now to an amazing man and have 2 amazing daughters of my own and amazing "kids" by marriage..


Why did I just spill my guts on a public site for the world to see... Because someone, somewhere needs to see this and know that there is hope.. If I found a way to survive all that I've endured and make an amazing life for myself... You can too.. Don't use your past as a stumbling block and a crutch.. Use it as a stepping stone, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and keep moving...


If you are in an abusive situation right now... get help... get out if you can... talk to someone you trust.. I offer a support group for victims and survivors of domestic violence.. contact me if you want to.. Just please do not become a statistic.. change your destiny...


If you know someone in an abusive situation... DO NOT judge them, talk down to them or threaten to distance yourself from them... This will only push them further away from the help they need.  Be there for them, listen to them... JUST LISTEN... You have NO idea what they are going through so don't pretend you do unless you have been there yourself.. Dont play God... Don't get mad when they repeatedly run back and forth to the abuser... Just give them the support they need.


It is only by the grace of God that I am here today... nothing more and nothing less... The night I was able to break free, things happened that could only have been because of God.  It was almost supernatural..


If there is someone reading this that needs courage.. I pray you find it before its too late...


God bless... Laura glchomeinventory@gmail.com

Giggle Juice....

The most exciting part of surgery for both my girls is the part when they get their “giggle juice”…. Not the taste of it… but the effects of it. The taste is actually quite nasty, very bitter or so I’ve been told but the effects of it make memories that forever stay with us.

Lets take Tay for instance.. When she takes hers she sees multiple fingers instead of one, she sees zebras EVERYWHERE in the room (I almost started seeing them too!), she let all of us know just how big our noses really are and that they were not where they should be on our faces. Everything she saw… she saw multiple.. She laughed non stop!

Bri on the other hand gets a little scared when she takes hers.. She knows what to expect and she knows it will cause her to see things that aren’t there and even cause her to see multiple objects.. But it still scares her. She has sees elephants, clowns etc. This morning she saw multiple TV’s floating around the room, and started worrying. She started asking me, through mumbled words, “Can you see my panties?” “Do my feet stink?” “Why is my finger red and on fire??” (talking about the red light they put on her finger) then she starts getting scared.. I pray with her and it eases her mind for a few minutes but then Bri being the natural worrier that she is, (she gets it ALL from her daddy) starts getting scared again so I tell her “Bri.. Fear replaces faith, faith replaces fear.. Where there is faith there is no fear, where there is fear there is no faith..” She looks at me very intensely through her grogginess and ever so honestly says “Mom… where’d ya make that up from?… Where’d ya learn that at?” I said “Well… God Bri” and she says.. “Oh.. That was good, I knew you didn’t come up with that on your own!”

See… giggle juice brings out the best in all of us, the honest sometimes funny side of us. I don’t know how many more “giggle juice” doses my kids will have to take through out their lives but I am thankful for the memories that this “juice” gives us. As I look around the waiting room here at the hospital, I realize just how blessed we really are. I try to do this each time we take the girls in, not always easy but it helps me stay grounded and keeps me from throwing a pity party right here in the waiting room.. If I had balloons and streamers.. I might still throw one.. I know there are many parents out there who have children going through similar or worse struggles than what we face and I hope they too can find the joy in “giggle juice” as we have. Even though I was just informed by my ever so loving husband that I need to talk about how stressed I am… I think I’ll save that for another day..

Today Bri has gone back for a rectal / vaginal scope to check for a fistula between the two. A fistula is a small tear in between the two canals that allows stool to come through the vagina. We are praying there is not one there. When she was 4 months old she developed one and had to have a colostomy for 9 months to allow it to heal. If she has one today… that will be our end result.. A colostomy..