Child Abuse Story From Brian
by Brian
(Canada)
I was abused as a child from a very early age by my father who was an alcoholic. My mother and father split-up when I was just a baby, and my twin brother and I were left in the care of my father.
I remember what it was like as a child, lying in bed at night, waiting in fear for my father to come home from the bar. Because I knew what was going to happen once he walked through that door.
I can vividly picture it and hear it as I write this today, the swearing and the rage, the dishes and stuff being smashed, him rushing up the stairs to yank us out of bed to yell at us and beat us and berate us, and make me or my twin brother clean up everything.
One night he came home drunk. He was mad because my older sister didn't bring the laundry in off the line. He kicked in her door and smashed stuff in her room and beat her. The next day she tried to commit suicide. She was fourteen or fifteen at the time.
Everyday was like living in hell, because you didn't know from one minute to the next when his rage would erupt upon you. I could be just standing doing the dishes, and he would walk over and slap me across the head hard and curse at me, and say demeaning things.
I came home late one time when I was in grade 5. He was drunk and beat me with his belt till I was black and blue. The next day I could barely walk to school because my legs, back and arms were bruised and swollen so bad.
That morning in class, the teacher noticed something was wrong with me, and came over to my desk. She could see the bruises on my arms and back through the white shirt I had on that day. She asked me to come out in the hallway, where she asked me what happened. I told her, and showed her the bruises.
She reported to the principal, who in turn reported it to the children's aid society. They came and took us to a foster home. We were there for 8 months, and then we were brought back to my father to live with him again. Why, I don't know, because the abuse just started all over again, and continued until I was old enough to stand my own ground.
The day I stood up for myself, I was peeling potatoes with a knife. My father walked by and cursed at me and hit me. I got so mad at him, I told him that if he ever hit me again I would kill him, all the while pointing that knife at him. The abuse still didn't stop, until one night, when he came home drunk. He had rushed upstairs and started hitting me while I slept in bed. I got up and we wrestled. I hit him back and he fell downstairs. He got up and went to his room. I moved out the next day, and went and to live with my best friend and his family.
Till the day my father died, he never acknowledged or said he was sorry for the abuse.
As a survivor of child abuse, I had to believe in myself, and realize that this was not my fault, so I could find forgiveness and heal myself. It has taken me the better part of the last 30 years of my life to heal from child abuse.
I never will have closure, but I have healed and have great understanding of child abuse and how it affects us into our adult years.
What is most important is sharing my story, so we together can bring awareness to this issue and many other issues that affect our children today.
Thanks for reading my story.....You are in my prayers and have my love and support.
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