I was kept deadbolted in a room in Muddy Pond, Tennessee. This... is my story. 

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Thomas went through many years of therapy (thanks to our grandparents) and grew up to be a great guy! He has never had kids. We've talked a few times and he asked to meet up but I've chosen not to so far. My sister left to teach at a Holdeman school far away from TN just months after I got out, and she's never moved back there. On her 20th birthday she called me crying because she was 'an old maid on the shelf' (by their standards) at age 20. 😔 She's never married and refuses to leave. Throughout the years when we saw each other or spoke she'd frequently bring up how funny it was, the things that had been done to me and even describe what she'd seen in detail and laugh... her fav mention was of when he'd sit on my back, beating me and I'd pee on myself. Can't really blame her, she was tramatized in different ways than I was and her dissociating from the painful reality and finding it funny was actually a coping skill. A few years ago she had a breakdown and realized how horrifying everything actually was and she went to therapy to sort through it and cope. She doesn't laugh about it anymore. Just over a year after I got out, mom took the 3 remaining boys and left. She finally accepted the help her parents offered... I only wish it had been much sooner. During the custody battle the oldest of those 3, Travis, wound up going back to live in that dadgum house. Mom finished raising the youngest 2 out here in 'the world', going to public school & such but too much mental/ emotional damage had already been done to them plus continued through years of court ordered visitation & exposure to the Holdemans. They struggled with relating to other people out here, social issues and more. After turning 18 they both went back, too. The oldest two boys married Holdeman women but the youngest has not yet. They all 3 think they are above women and should be praised and worshiped as mighty men. They are also the victim- blaming/ gaslighting type. It's made them incredibly toxic... and it's so very sad. I wonder the type of people they'd have turned out to be if only they'd have been given a better chance. Maybe one day there will be a moment they'll realize... just like my sister did. But I'm not holding my breath. My mom remained a mix of toxic yet supportive. Like the good ole classic "Oh Hannah Annie I'm so sorry, but I did the best I could". She was also a victim and I understand that... but what she became is an enabler incapable of protecting and a sideline participant in abuse. No kid deserves that. There came a point where I realized there was no point in enduring the emotional toll it took in talking to any of them. I'd put up with it for years, thinking there was a chance I could help them eventually. But my sister will never leave and our younger brothers seem to get a 'high' off thinking they are mightier than women, too much to ever want to leave that mindset. And my mom will never fully admit the hand she personally had in what happened. So I cut them all off and doing that has helped my mental health sooo much. Surprisingly, the one family member that DOES support my memoir and me talking about what happened is my oldest brother, Thomas. He might have been a 'monster' to me while we were young but he was just a kid going through hell with no outlet, no hope and no coping skills. I think that the rage he displayed and what he did to me & our siblings was really just a mirror reflection of his own pain. A kid cannot be blamed for that. As for what happened to me... 'grandpa' did apologize and so did a few others. Most apologies were followed by comments like 'but my hands were tied' or 'I didn't know who to believe' or even proceeding to victim blame me into accepting at least some responsibility for what happened. As though if I'd just done as I was told, things 'wouldn't have had to get that bad'. 🙄 After turning 18 I was homeless for about a year, bouncing around here and there wherever I could stay. That summer/ fall of 2007 was the lowest point and I spent it sleeping in a shed by a lake campsite. Campers gave me food every now and then. By winter I had a more permanent place and a job, ect. Back then I was in deep denial of the PTSD inspite of all the symptoms I was experiencing, just thought if I tried hard enough, never talked about it and tried to blend in with everyone else that I could make it all go away. Definitely learned the hard way it doesn't work that way and not talking actually makes it far worse! 😂 Not to mention how it made making friends or building good relationships with people nearly impossible. Common small-talk questions like "Where are you from" sends me into flashbacks of that room, and politely declining to answer is socially unacceptable and builds distrust. If a casual question could be a nemesis, "Where are you from" would be mine 😂 Things are better now, I've been married 10yrs & have 2 little girls and 3 dogs. We've 'adopted' neighbors to build our own family (they weren't given much choice in being adopted into titled family roles but they've all accepted it 😅). And not long ago I discovered I have a knack for making leather purses so that's became a fun hobby to keep me busy. My daughters lives are very different from what mine was. Gentle parenting, public school and lots of friends to play with are just a few of the differences. Of course since they are kids they're wild little things and yes they absolutely do trigger me- just like your husband. Parenting is hard and kids hitting triggers makes it even harder! One things that commonly helps many people with ptsd is consistency, routine and knowing what is going to happen next yet kids can be pure chaos and the only predictable thing is to expect the unexpected. Trying to cope with the chaos while having a panic attack and feeling like my head/ lungs may explode while remembering to breath slowly, speak calmly and gentle parent in the best possible way all at the same time without the kids realizing something is wrong is incredibly difficult. Many times it feels impossible and it feels so lonely... but it IS possible. Your husband isn't alone in it at all, hopefully he knows that. As your kids grow up, he'll get to glimpse what his own life would have looked like if he'd have had the same chance to remain unharmed. That is worth hanging onto, no matter how hard it is. Ending the cycle is imperative.

@hannahprosser1004 I'm so honoured that you took the time to respond to me. Thank you!!! It's sad to hear that Travis has taken this attitude. I thought maybe he might eventually see the light when thinking back on what happened that time with Thomas. And it's nice and validating to hear that your sister finally accepted the truth of what had happened. Although I am sorry doing so took such a terrible toll on both of you. Just as an fyi in case this is a concern for you: my husband's chaotic childhood messed a bit with his brain chemistry and gave him medium level insomnia. A combination of trauma therapy and taking melatonin before bed have been life changing. I was struck by the fact that even though the details in your story are almost too much to fathom, the story is also very relateable. You were such a feisty, determined little girl, and I love that you are free to be your true self, unencumbered today. Also, you do absolutely beautiful work on those leather bags. Very impressive!!! Again: I truly am awe-inspired by you. I know that it's easier to take on criticism than compliments. But if it means anything, I truly think that the fact that you survived, healed, and are now thriving is nothing short of magnificent. Due to life being busy and being a mum to six kids (so far 😘), I have only read five books in the last decade. And yours was one of those five. I picked well. I only wish that I could shake your hand in person and gossip with you over a cup of coffee. I wish you all the best, and I hope to read more of your work. ❤️

Thank you ❤