I grew up under the abusive whims of a drug addicted father. He only physically hurt me twice in my whole life, but once is too many. As for emotionally, that was MOST of my life....
The first abuse happened when I was a baby, so I don't remember it. But my mother told me what happened. She was holding me in her arms and my "father" was going through one of his rage moments. He was beating her, with me a baby in her arms... made a mistake and punched me too. I had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctors begged her to put him away, that it was dangerous for both me and her to stay around that man. But my mother didn't love me or herself enough to do that. Still claiming it was an accident. They did tell her that if he beats her, he will began to beat me too. She didn't believe them...
So, the second time was when I was seven. My sister and I were sitting in the living room, playing with a collection of pennies. My "father" was upset and sulking in a nearby chair, angry because he wanted money for drugs and my mother was claiming she didn't have any. She often did this, because she was trying to keep some money so we can eat. Meanwhile, she was in the kitchen, cooking what little food we had for dinner and hoping he would buy the lie....
Since I was the oldest,
I felt as though I should have the most pennies. And my sister was whining that she wanted more. So, my "father" barked, "share them!" I threw a little tantrum, tossing the coins onto the floor, folding my arms and pouting, "fine!" I didn't throw them anywhere near my sister, which she herself often wonders about that too, and it wasn't really a big deal... just normal child behavior. But this got my "father" very angry...
He told me to come over to where he was. I stood up and walked over to the chair he was sitting, still pouting. He slapped me across the face so hard, that I fell to the floor. And then he got up and pounded my back and legs with fists. I screamed and cried. My sister was scared. My mother rushed from the kitchen. He then told me to go upstairs and wash my face. My mother gave him the last of the money and told him to get out. He left.
The next morning, I had to go to school in pain... a hand-print on my face... and bruises all over my body. The kids made fun of me, sing-songing "child abuse! child abuse!". My teacher, Mrs. Thomas and her assistant, took me into a bathroom and told me to remove my dress... they took notes on all of the bruises. And then my "father" was called into school. Problem was... he had made friends with my teachers and was very popular. So, all he had to do was put on a sad face and say, "I love my daughter. I'm just heavy-handed. I never meant to hurt her." And they just told him to apologize to me and sent me home with him. That's it.
But, he never hit me again, because he feared he couldn't talk his way out of it again. This was a very close call for him, because they did say if it happened again, they would have no choice but to report it. My mother was upset... she was hoping they would report it!
But, even though he never hit me again, he continued to hurt me emotionally. He would call me stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly, and a ****. Even though I stayed a virgin until I was 21.... And he would make fun of my teeth everyday, even though it was kind of his responsibility to get me braces. So, I would go to school and be teased all day, come home and be teased most of the evening by him. It didn't stop until I was 17 and my mother finally kicked him out of the house, for good.
And so... I can't stand to hear about child abuse or other children going through what I have or worse! Many think of physical attacks, when it comes to abuse. BUT, there are long lasting scares with emotional abuse too. I am still dealing with both, even as an adult. No child should be abused.
