child abuse story from Peter page was created August 19, 2007 and was
originally posted on August 11, 2007 as story #176.
is from Sausalito, California, USA
following child abuse story from Peter depicts: physical abuse and emotional
The child abuse effects on Peter: physical injuries that required medical attention; the belief that beatings were a part of life; lashing out at people; denial, anger and hostility; mental anguish; feelings of betrayal at his father for doing nothing when Peter was being beaten; Peter refers to his mother by her first name
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The purpose of this letter is simply for me to
speak the truth about my life. I am doing this as a cathartic experience and I
really do not expect any major consequence of this action.
I have been punched slapped and beaten from the
time I was 5 until the time I was physically able to defend myself. Most people
do not believe this was true. The person who beat me denies it to this day;
consequently, I will only speak of two occasions where there were actual
witnesses to this abuse. In other words, people who actually witnessed these
acts of violence or at least the aftermath i.e. bruises cuts, abrasions etc.
The first event took place when I was only 5 or
6 years old. I was visiting my aunt in Marblehead Mass. I remember being hit
viciously several times and then finally I was slapped so hard that I fell over
a couch and lay sprawled out on the floor. I was only semi-conscious at the
time but for the first time in my life someone came to my aide. It was my Aunt
Sharron. She said, "Joanne that is enough!" I do not know or really
even care if my aunt remembers this trauma, but for me, it was a watershed
experience because, for the first time in my life, I realized that
what Joanne was doing to me was wrong. Someone else actually stood up to her. I
thought beatings were a part of life. Like a shower. I thank her to this day
for making me realize that Joanne's actions were NOT normal behavior.
The second incident took place when I was 10
years old and in the 5th grade. Both my parents were habitual cocaine abusers.
I can remember seeing actual 3-foot piles of white powder on our dining room
table. This abuse caused my parents to lose much of their fortune. I had been beaten
on several occasions and had had enough. At some point this 10-year-old child,
alone in the house, had the courage to take what I guess would amount to 500.00
dollars of cocaine and flush it down the toilet. Knowing I would receive a
beating, I told Joanne proudly what I had done and as a result I received one
of the worst incidents of physical abuse I ever had to endure. I needed medical
attention after this severe trauma, but my father, who knew exactly what
happened (but did not care or more precisely did not have the moral courage to
stand up to my mother), did nothing. My mother was still in a rage and only
wanted to repeat the beating again to justify the loss of a substantial amount
of cocaine. Fortunately for me my Uncle John was staying with us at the time.
He was at least 6 years younger than my mother, (his sister) but he threatened
her with his voice and calmed her down. After dressing my wounds to my face,
back and chest, he healed me on the inside by just telling me he understood
what I did and forgave me. My uncle died of cystic fibrosis 10 years later but
I will always love him and honestly think about him and miss him every day.
I only speak of these incidents because there
were actually people there at the time to confirm that they happened. For a
long time I denied to myself that they happened and it ate me up inside. There
were many more incidents of physical abuse but mental abuse was a daily factor
in my life. I was reminded constantly how I ruined my mother's life because she
became pregnant with me and had to give up her modeling career and lifestyle.
As a teacher and educator, it blows my mind
that people would actually hit and abuse children. How could you attack an
innocent child? Even a schoolyard bully at least picks on someone, somewhat
their size. Regardless of my relationship to this person, good people do not
beat up people that cannot defend themselves. This is a criminal action. My
father knew exactly what was going on, yet he never stuck up for me. In my mind
he is and always has been a coward. Even if I thought my neighbour's son across
the street were being abused, or one of my students, I would do everything in
my power to stop this abuse. Yet for 15 years he did nothing. To this day he is
still co-dependant and cowed by Joanne.
Well I think I have said enough. This is the truth and it was very hard to admit that these things ever occurred, but now that I have it off my chest I do feel a lot better. The people that committed these crimes should not feel better, they should feel really bad. They don't though. In fact Joanne denies that these incidents ever occurred and I almost agreed with her until these feeling were eating me up inside. They came out in different ways and I was lashing out at people I loved for reasons I did not understand. I think only someone who has experienced prolonged abuse can actually testify to its brutal nature. However, I thank God every day for those two people who did stick up for me in my life. Even though they did not really understand, they showed me that what was going on was morally corrupt. It was their courage that began my road to independence and it is this essay that will hopefully start the beginning of truth and healing.
NOTE: Information pages on this site were based on material from the
Canadian Red Cross RespectED Training Program. Written permission was obtained to use their copyrighted material on this site.
Child abuse story from Peter was re-formatted June 6, 2015
From Victim to Victory
How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life
Apr 18, 17 11:04 AM
I was in my 10th standard and like every girl, I was very conscious of the weight problem. I used to go to my Music tuitions in the evening, and once I
Apr 13, 17 10:32 AM
I am having a dream about my abusive stepfather where he wants my brother and me to change his soiled diaper. He started abusing me at the age of three
Apr 11, 17 12:23 PM
It started when I was around 13. I didn't have my mom growing up so I was always angry. Always fighting and getting into trouble. When my uncle came home