Child Abuse Story From Cat A
by Cat A
(Chicago, Illinois, USA)
You see the girl in the picture but I see the phone on the wall
A brief moment of many in my childhood:
"That's it", you screamed at me with a puffy red face while sweat was pouring from your hairline in the Texas heat. "I am calling child welfare and sending you away forever. I cannot stand you anymore!" I remember the heat of your breath and the spittle that flew from your mouth to hit me as you screamed not two inches from my face and I began to understand that it did not matter what my perceived sin was, because anything was an excuse for you to take out your rage, disappointment and anger of your own life, upon me, your own personal, mental punching bag.
You held the phone, that phone, on the wall in the kitchen with the lime green counter tops and linoleum floors, your tool to eviscerate me from not only you but my family, my home, my life. As I heard you talk, negotiating to give me away, I grabbed for the phone, fear running rampant through my veins, I struggled against you with all I had in me and I was balling while begging and pleading that I would be good from now on, gasping for breath between the oceans of snot and tears running down my nine-year-old face. After you hung up the phone you helped me pack a bag and then you had me wait on the front step for strangers who would come and take me away, but they never came. Until finally, you told me to come inside and made mention of how sad and pathetic I was because "strangers did not even want me..."
This was one of many things that happened to me while young. There was physical abuse as well at the hands of my mother who was supposed to love me and who to this day denies ever doing anything wrong.
Here I am, 44 years old and still being haunted by the abandonment of my mother and her love as a child....
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