Childhood Abuse

I'll cut straight to the point: I was abused as a child by both of my parents. Most of the time, my father was the perpetrator, though I have memories of my mother beating me as well. Much of these memories were a blur to me, and for a long time I actually questioned whether they were real or whether they were just exaggerations in my head. One time, I actually asked my younger brother if he had any memories of abuse just because I wanted some external confirmation that it really happened to me.

One of the worst incidents I can remember was my father hitting me in the face with a chair when I was somewhere between the ages of 7 and 8, which gave me a black eye. After things had calmed down, both of my parents sat me down and trained me on what I was going to say to adults and other kids at school if anyone asked me about my black eye. They told me to say that it was from baseball practice, and not from my father. When I asked why, they told me it would tear our family apart if I told anyone the truth.

Little did I know, our family was already falling apart. My parents divorced when I was eleven, and this is when the abuse became much, much worse. After this point, I don't ever recall my mother being the perpetrator of the abuse, but she still played a role in it all. My father had developed a heavy addiction to drinking, and when he drank a lot he would become verbally and physically abusive. He would hit us, throw us down the stairs, grab our arms too hard until we developed bruises, and make fun of us when we cried about any of it. We would talk to my mother about this when we weren't staying with my dad, and she was obviously horrified. When I was twelve or thirteen, I asked her if I could stay with her full time so that I didn't have to be subject to my father's abuse anymore. Her response, I've come to realize, was beyond inappropriate. She told me that I had a responsibility to go to my father's house to protect my brothers from his abuse. Isn't that messed up? Now, not only was I being abused, but I started to think that I had a responsibility to take that abuse, that it was somehow my cross to bear. Also, I started to see my brothers being abused as my own failing. I started to think that it was my fault when they got hit, because I was supposed to be protecting them. I started to feel like a martyr, but I was just an innocent kid.

I'm angry about my abuse. It's been buried deep down inside me since I was a teenager, and I can't take it anymore. It's starting to come up at really inappropriate times, making me feel upset when I'm at work or when I'm trying to immerse myself in a social situation. I can't hide it anymore.

 

Yes, I think you're right about that. Therapy has also been a tricky subject for me, as I was bounced around between therapists as a child when my parents divorced. My parents would often fight over which therapist I was seeing. My dad would yell at my mom and tell her that the therapist I was seeing was turning me against him and putting me on her side (and I've heard my mom say the same thing to my dad about a different therapist).

I'm an adult now, and I don't need to go through my parents to see a therapist. There's really no excuse for me to not seek help on the matter, and I recognize that seeking that sort of help is not a sign of weakness. I will take action and hopefully I'll find someone who can help me with this.

 

It doesn't make me nervous. I appreciate the advice, and I know that therapy will be highly beneficial for me. I have already started searching for a therapist.

I wouldn't say that. They've made lots of mistakes as parents, and abuse is obviously one of those mistakes, but they were very good parents in many other respects.

I think about this all the time. I definitely see the abuse my parents put me and my siblings through as an example of what not to do as a parent, and I strive to do better than they did in that respect (should I ever become a parent myself).

This is something I hope to gain out of therapy. I want to take that anger and transform it into love, but I don't know how yet.

I really appreciate that!

I have already eliminated pornography from my life, and I am at a point where I realize I don't need it anymore. It never did anything good for me, and I was enslaved by it. I am free now. It's one of the best feelings ever! I know there's still a lot of recovery ahead of me, but I'm taking it one day at a time and I get stronger each day. The connection between porn and pleasure is slowly starting to dissolve, and I'm so happy I made the decision to quit.

Thanks for your advice and kind words, and I wish you the best of luck on your own journey. You've helped me