I was punched in the face as a kid by a stepfather

[freshwest]

10. I was beaten, etc. as a kid. I never saw it coming. It changed me neurologically and socially.

Last edited Sun Sep 14, 2014, 11:48 AM - Edit history (1)

I wasn't in denial and knew it was wrong. But I reacted to it differently than my sister, who wailed and didn't get hit. I was told if I cried, I'd be 'given something to cry about.'

So I took it, because as I have said, there is no help coming. There is no rescue. I have never let anyone see me cry in my entire life, and was also taught by others to never show any weakness. It's a survival tool and no doubt an unhealthy one. Instead I became angry, it stops the tears.

After a TBI, the PTSD welled up and I started to cry, and I thought I was going to lose my mind, that I would never stop crying. The place those tears came from, I don't know and don't want to know. Now I am older, and cry in private, often when reading things on DU. But no one gets to see me cry. And I'm fine with that, only share it with a few friends here.

At the time I didn't know curse words. In later years, I've wondered what words I would have given to an experience that was not allowed to be spoken. Oh, but I learned them all. The words in my mind then would have been as I was getting beaten, the feeling I had at the moment was, 'Yes, motherfucker, you're bigger than me, do what you're gonna do, give me your fucking worst, you won't break me and I won't cry for you.'

In those days, if that happened, or if someone got after one sexually, a person knew there was NO social support. There was NO ONE to tell as has been taught in more recent times.

I have been hyper-vigilant my entire life because of this and it's hard wired. Nothing will change it, nothing I've tried or any doctor has tried, save EFT worked. And damn, it's a horror to relive the body memories again. I don't take abuse from anyone, and will not allow another to be abused. I do not make any apologies for my attitude.

I resolved that I would never spank my child, even though many said I should. It made me want to vomit. I have been estranged from family as they didn't want to know as it was a danger to their security and made them uncomfortable. It was never said, but it was unspoken. People know what is going on.

Oddly enough, the person beating me went to a psychiatrist for anger management on his own, seeing the profound effect it had on me. That was half a century ago and unusual, but he paid out $100 a session every week to figure what he had done wrong after I avoided him like the plague. He even took me to the same doctor, who wanted to 'talk to me.'

We both skated around it. I mean, my abuser was in the waiting room and paying the bill, too. Get real! This went on for a few months and I finally looked at the doctor, and I was all of 13, and I actually said in words to this affect, or very very closely, 'Look, I'm not crazy and this is costing a lot of money. You and I both know what's going on. Now we'll just keep on seeing each other for a few more weeks, and then you tell him I'm cured.' He agreed, saying he'd miss our talks. He was a WW2 vet who'd lost a leg, had a 'classy' manner to him, and we'd discussed interesting things, but not the issue at hand. So and we met a couple of more times.

Nothing in my life changed except not seeing the nice leather furniture in the fancy office but the beating had stopped as the person in question had repented, I guess.

Oh, and as far as me laying down on a shrink's couch which they always have in their offices? Anyone thinks I'd do that has gotta be kidding, so they can get the fuck away from me.

But not long after, as the main protagonist in this little story, and he was dying, I remember him watching me from the couch in the living room, wistfully. He wanted to talk to someone. I was still afraid of him, and loathed his presence.

Yet I loved him for who he had been at other times. If I had known he was dying, I might have said something to him. By that time I made sure I was never alone with him and stayed out of sight. I did what I had to do for my own sanity, but in later years wished we could have worked things out for both our sakes. But he didn't live to see me grow up.

I've commented on this in the latest outrage threads, but my outlook is bleak when I read these stories. People need economic security and will put up with abuse to get it, sadly. They also need someone to call their own. If the kid I believe is being discussed is the one I think it is, experience in later life has shown me that these families don't always break up. And we are not the ones who judge if there will or will not be a breakup. I've only said to accept that there is no final solution.

I remember in therapy, if discussions went that way, if there were men, they said they were sorry and they'd never have done blank. It puzzled me, as I didn't give a shit. I had no intention of letting an abuser within ten feet of me.

Not that I have rejected love, but being alone really didn't bother me as it's my default. I'm sure some will think that is pathetic, well, they should walk a mile in my body or they can just fuck off, it's all the same.

I remember doctors telling me if I told them this stuff to find out why this and that, 'That it's all good because it made you who you are and you're good so it's good.' They were trying the little 'All I needed to know, I learned in kindergarten' routine.

They didn't know what it felt like in my flesh, in my mind, my soul to go through that when I had close to an out of body experience. It changed everything.

So they made themselves comfortable. I rolled my eyes with my unspoken, 'Gee, thanks for nothing, and fuck you very much.'

But I won't stand by and condone or allow abuse. Because I know that it never goes away. Period.

The only solution I've seen is when a ton of positive reinforcement is given the victim,to push back the abuse in their mind to function day to day, beneath their daily consciousness. But it never goes away.

Anyone can read this while you can, before I delete it. I'm just in a mood lately.