I been a fool to believe that a celebrity would be in love with me… It involved paying money. He used photo shopped pictures that I discovered after two years. We never met  for real in that period of time. Only chatted online no live video or phone calls. I let him use his status as excuse. A professional fraudster that might do the same to other people than me too.

It feels like empty space and fooled around emotionally too leave me in a state of shock. I hadn’t been in a relationship in years when I got involved with him two years ago. It is going to take me time to have any faith in any man again…

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Out for walks

Lately I have taken some walks around my area where I live. Both in the woods and along the road. I have listened to the noise around me. Birds singing, aeroplanes above, dogs barking, people talking on the phone and with each other, cars, motorbike, ATV, bus, lorry and people talking with me. I have met people that were drunk, some was out jogging, some riding their bike, some sat at bench, some just out walking with their dog and some just walked.

… but the most annoying thing is me feeling dizzy. Like “drunk” but haven’t had anything to drink. I felt like walking on a boat in stormy weather and the waves are heavy. Lucky I keep on my feet and don’t crash to the ground. This is how my MS work when I am out walking. I wish there was some way to make the dizziness to vanish it’s sooo annoying!


Summer 19

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My Story…

First I will say this post will be the longest I ever have written and it will have many updates. I will tell my life story as a victim of abuse and sexual abuse. Some other memories too.


It began around age 2-3. The first time she hit me with her baking stick. I cried, and it stung over my fingers and on my thigh. I was too young to understand why. She must have been mad at me for something. It wasn’t last time she did that, it happened often.

I must have been around 3-4 years old when I went blueberries picking with my eldest brother. I had picked some into a cup when I suddenly see something amongst the berries. I ask my brother and point to it while my head is only centimeters away from it. He grabs hold of my hand and next I know I am flying away and lose my boot. The cup got left behind too. Later I got told it was a poisonous snake, an adder. Scary!


At age 4 I started bathing with my 6 year older sibling. The reason we had to bath together we had our own water supply and it was shortage caused us having to bath together. They watched him rubbing his body towards mine and him touching me. I didn’t like it and told my parents but they didn’t make him stop. We bathed together until I was 6 years. At the end he started putting his fingers inside me. He also had ejaculation in the water. I remember it as gush and jumped out of the water. I ran into the living room, but my father forced me back to the bathroom. On the way I grabbed hold of the door frame and a small piece of wood came loose with a nail stuck on it. My dad took it from my hand and hit me with it on my bottom, before he forced me  back into the tub and washed my hair with the gushy water.


I slept in my parents bedroom until I was around 6 years old. Then I was moved to sleep in sofabed sharing with the abuser. He touched me outside my night gown. Then he put his fingers in my pants and into my vagina as he did in the bathtub. I once confronted my mother what he was doing and didn’t wanted to sleep in the sofabed with him anymore. She refused to believe in me and told me I had to sleep there. I remember I held onto her shirt and tore it apart then I ran from upstairs where the bedroom was and down to my parents bedroom in protest against it. I ended up sleeping upstairs anyway.

I grew up on a farm. My father had a work car and my brothers sometimes drove it. One time my abuser drove it. I was laying in the back of it, if I had been seating I am not sure if i still be here… My eldest sibling was in the car too when it happened. The abuser drove fast and suddenly a big bang and sudden stop, we had crashed. I flew into the back of the front seats and ended on the floor. I was bare feet and ran to the barn and told my father what had happened. Then I ran to the house, the abuser was there too, he looked us in and both my grandfather and father tried to get into us. They sounded mad. Most likely they were conserned we were injured, but were kids and frightened by angry sounding voices.

From age 6 to 11 my abuser was touching my body and teasing me. He was annoyingly towards me. Pinched me and pulled my hair. But we also could play together on old fashion PC comodore 64 and 128. Also plaid with cars on a play mat.

At age 7 my grandfather died. The night before I had confided in my grandfather what my sibling had been doing to me. Touching me and  fingers in my vagina. He said he would confront my father with it. The next day I remember my mother and grandmother talking at the top of the stairs. I went outdoors and climbed in the window to see my grandfather, he was screaming in pain. I remember him red and sweathy. I opened up the buttons on his shirt as he asked me to and he asked me to call the docter. I went out the window and upstairs and told my mother to call the docter. I took the phone and started dialing number. She took the phone from me and placed it back down. I remember laying under the table and listen to my grandfathers loud screams from the basement. When my father came home they called for the docter and ambulance came to get him. I had my last hug with my grandfather while he was on the stretcher. He died before getting to hospital. I don’t know if everything could be different if she had called the docter when I told her to… I carried with me for a long time I might had triggered the heart attack he died of. Caused me think my father would get the same if I ever told him what his son was doing.

At age 9 I and my youngest brother watched Pinchcliffe Grand Prix. He went out of the room for s short while. When he came back he was rubbing his fingers so I got up and checked my eldest brother room. When I came in there the bin my brother had standing by his bedside table was on fire. I closed the window and closed the door behind me. I went down the stairs screaming to my mother that there was a fire in my brothers room., to me it all went in slow motion or I went so fast my brain reacted to it slow motion. She came running upstairs.I ran to the kitchen and turned off the stove. Then I ran upstairs to get my youngest brother and we got outside sitting by the flagstaff. I put my hands in front of his eyes so he wouldn’t see that she threw the burning bin out the window. She managed to put out the fire and the house was saved. If I hadn’t gone up and checked who knows what could had happened? I must thank school for all the drills we had about fire and close windows.


At my 11th birthday after the guests had left  I was alone with the abuser. It happened on the sofa upstairs. He sat me down and took off my pantyhose and pants. Then he put his finger up into my vagina again.

He took me upstairs from the living room from time to time. He started using different tools. Like a screwdriver, a wooden stick, hairbrushes both with metal and plastic. He used to tie me to the sofa with different ropes. I remember having so much pain in my vagina area I had troubles sit still anywhere including at school. I remember blood flowing into the toilet after he had used the different tools. It was before I got my period. I also remember throwing bloody pants into the bin, but she who gave birth to me took them out and cleaned them again. I once cleaned off the blood from the hairbrush and  a screwdriver while she watched me. She didn’t ask why all I had to do was clean them. I also used to stand on my head so the pain got in my head rather than in my private areas. I sometimes fell asleep doing that.


At age 12 I once was tied to the sofa upstairs. I screamed out in pain as he tried to enter my vagina. He reacted with putting his hands around my neck and squeeze. I lost consciousness and was brought back with him blowing air into me and him being all red and sweating, and screaming “don’t die, don’t die”! I felt millions of needles in my body so he must have revived me again. I felt so dry in my throat like sandpaper also in my mouth. It ached all over my body. I had bad marks on my neck after his fingers and covered it up with a scarf. Couple days later I confronted the person who gave birth to me. She commented to my marks on my neck and told her he had done that to me while I was tied to he sofa upstairs. She said “stop pinching yourself and leave bad marks”, like she didn’t believe in me. I asked her to make him stop harassing me and leave me alone. I heard her doing that on my way downstairs. After that he kept away for a long while.


Some months later an insident happened. I must had upset her very much because she came after me with her baking stick. I ran behind in the corner of the sofa in the livingroom. She started hitting my head, I reached for a pillow from the sofa and put it on top of my head but she kept hitting my head with the hard bottom end. In the end she had hit me so much and hard I became paralyzed. I could’t even think all I did was stare right ahead. My eyes was running and my mouth dribbled on to the floor so made a big pile. I remember my little brother had stood in the sofa jumping up and down while she lashed out on me. The rest of my siblings and father was laughing at the whole thing.


When I was 13 and half years old I had gotten room beside the abuser downstairs. All of a sudden one night he came into my bedroom. Laid over me and held his arm over my neck and told me “if you ever tell anyone again I will kill you”, (this saying still stay stuck to my mind). He started using condoms when he came on to me, and it happened all over the house. Even outdoors and in the barn. I tried many ways to block the opportunities for him to come on to me. I put a hairband in the key so It would stay stuck so he couldn’t enter my bedroom at night, but he found out and stole the key. I found another and did the same in the end he barged on the door so it got opened even when it was locked. One time he come on to me and pushed me on top of the kitchen table. After that I couldn’t eat meals sitting by the table. I took my plate to the livingroom. Sometimes I was denied to bring my plate and it was taken from me. I couldn’t explain why he had threatened me. Sometimes he came on to me in the livingroom and I ended up laying under a blanket naked when my parents came from the barn in the evenings. My clothes law in  pile on the livingroom table. One time we had visitors I had to go to the bathroom and tried grab the blanket around me, but she got a glimpse and commented “are you all naked”? I told her yes and pointed to he pile on the table and also told her to ask the abuser why. After that I was told to lay my clothes behind the couch instead of the table, go figure how she was thinking. From age 13 and half to 14 and half it happened quite often sometimes more than once a day. After that it was seldom because he wasn’t that much around he was studying to become a pilot.


At age 21 I was studying travel and tourism in Lillehammer. I was home for the weekend, after 9/11. He came on to me on the sofa in the livingroom. He had condom his time, but I remember it broke. I didn’t think much of it. A couple weekend later I went to England with some friends and I wet to meet a guy. I staid one night something I shouldn’t had… He came on to me in middle of the night and i froze up, I got raped. I later found out I was pregnant and all I thought was that the guy in England was the father to that child. I wasn’t ready for parenthood. I got an abortion. I found out during the court case in 2010 and got my medical record that the abuser was father of the fetus I aborted.


I started seeing a therapist at college. She told me I wasn’t been raped only my normal reaction to intimacy. But I didn’t wanted that to happened, I hadn’t given consent then it is rape. She talked me out of it and suggested I kept a relationship to him. I did and got a beautiful boy with him and got married. That didn’t last more than 2 years and I got divorced.

After the divorce I have tried to have relationship but it hasn’t worked out. I was naked with a man 5 years ago but nothing happened.

I am now in a relationship with an American man for two years, but we haven’t met yet neither have we talked on the phone or live chat. We only chat in messages. I hope to move together with him this autumn in USA.


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I wonder why I leave people speechless after disclosing my past?

Often people just stop talking and withdraw.

Does it become too much?

Is it too discomforting?

It make it hard to make friends when it happens too often. I don’t give up though. I want to be patient with people. There is nothing wrong with me, just a little damaged, but I am much more than just my story and my past with abuse. I am now adult and live with my past as best as I can. I can’t help that my story is hard to bear, but remember it is my bag to carry and live with, you only have to listen to what I say and let it be.

I want my readers to react to my posts and comment on them not leave you speechless.

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Kill or be killed…

That is the question. After conversation with my therapist today I just wonder. As we spoke about the abuser. He asked me why I haven’t considered doing that after all the awful things he had done to me. It isn’t in my nature to do that. Even though my abuser had strangled me and then retrieved me again. I know what he is capable of doing. Because of that my body feel fear and discusted by him. I don’t want him near me because my body freeze up by his presence. I am glad he has got a restraint order to stay away from my city while I live here, only allowed through his work twice a month. It only last for a year at the time so I need to apply for a new restraint order in time it runs out.

He threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone, I have told the whole world what he has done on this blog. I should feel safer now that everyone knows, but some fear is still there. Because who does really care? I am a nobody to this world. With a small voice. I am not capable to kill anyone, I wouldn’t be able to do in self defence either, not that I know of anyway.

I hope to move to the USA and be far away from him and also knowing with his sentencing he won’t be able to enter the USA. I would feel safer there.

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When I Miss You

I feel it when I miss you


It’s in my stomach

It’s in my toes

It’s in my fingers

It’s all over


I feel it when I miss you


A down deep tingle

A down deep longing

A down deep aching

A down deep all over


I feel it when I miss you


Pain in my mind

Pain in my body

Pain in my soul

Pain all over


I feel it when I miss you


Jane Helen 25.10.2017

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New Therapist

I have started new treatment with new therapist. It is a male therapist once again. I think we get along well even though only had two appointments so far.

I still struggle with my mind and stressful thoughts like a beautiful mind kinda thoughts. I think I see signs around me and the world try to speak to me. I feel it ridiculous to believe in it, but my mind is damaged, hope able to repair. Most of all change and wipe it out of my thoughts.

He has given me homework to next appointment. Write a list with keywords about what bothers my mind that I feel like talking about.

It is all just inside my mind…

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Another year

Happy new year to my readers and followers 🙂

Another year gone and another new years have passed by. I soon turn a year older, but as you know I don’t mark that day before in June.

It is snowy outside here. Winter time weather wise.

So what else is up with me you might wonder? Nothing new. I still got MS and still unfit to work. But I wish I could do more with my life than just this.

My days are dull, just count the days passing me by closer to be with my man. It is a wonderful feeling to be in love and have someone to ache for and talk with daily ❤

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I want to bring up and talk about abortion and how I think about it.I have gone through one in 2001… Wrote about it in an earlier blog post.

I can’t say it was something good to go through. I have felt sad, but at same time it was a relief not knowing who would had been the father to that child. I found out through the court case back in 2010 who would been the father as I asked for papers from the hospital where I had it. That reassured me I had done the right thing, as it was my abuser who had made me pregnant.

I feel for the unborn child that was taken away, but I don’t regret it. Any woman own her own body and should have the right to decide what to do with it.

The way it seem to be talked about abortion or no abortion. I don’t see it a problem to remove a fetus that is up to 12 weeks, or because of medical reasons after that. Especially to protect women who has experienced rape and abuse, we can’t force or expect them to give birth to a child.

I agree that removing fetus after 23 weeks is murder, except if the health of the baby or mother says otherwise.

It tears me apart the stories about children given birth to children, as young as 11 years. Worst cases they aren’t granted abortions because it is illegal in some countries, and if they remove it they face time in prison.

Abortion needs to be legalized and be the same around the world, part of the human rights.

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The Future – I Survived

The future is here it is now. I used to tell myself that the future will be better. The abuse would stopped, he wouldn’t be around me or near me to harm me anymore. He still is out there, but not near me. But because of what he did and know how he used to be I will never know if he can show up again. Where is the guarantee he stays away? Just because he been to prison for a short time doesn’t mean he has change neither the years passing by. I will never trust in that he will stay away with me living in Norway, I have to move away somewhere far away from here.

I can say I survived and itself that is enough to have accomplished in life. Years of torture and abuse and keeping a secret or trying to tell the secret but no one reacted in a way it ended earlier. Not until I went to the police and finally got their attention to get him sentenced. I got believed in and that was my goal. The better future and hopefully an end to the abuse. Being a survivor mean able to talk about it as something that belongs in the past, and people accept it as my story. He did some horrible shocking things to my body and mind, but I survived it. Now I am just trying living my life as best as I can with damages done. Scarred for life, but doing alright.

Read my earlier post Thoughts.

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