Child Abuse Story From Eve

by Eve
(Location Undisclosed)

I don't even know where to start off my story, there are just too many incidents that would count as abuse. Like how every emotional abuse story begins, "mine is not as bad as the ones written here". I beg to differ. I think emotional abuse is just as bad as sexual or physical abuse but then again, one can argue that emotional abuse comes hand-in-hand with sexual or physical abuse.

Mine is an emotional and sometimes physical abuse. I'm not sure when it started but I know my father has always been like that. When I was younger (preschool age), he would treat me like his world but I was too young to realize he had his controlling ways. He forbid chocolates because he said it would worsen my cough (I had asthma then) but I wasn't explained to properly why I couldn't eat chocolates, so being the typical kid who can't resist chocolates, I ate the ones in the fridge when he wasn't at home. Only to be caught later on. He was disappointed in me. He called me a liar. I think that was the point where he truly believed I was a dishonest child. The truth is I lied as a survival instinct, to save myself from scolding and beatings.

The first physical abuse I could remember was when I was 11 years old. My dad couldn't find me in school when he was supposed to pick me up. I went to the nearby cafe to have a drink with my friend. I was so afraid to tell him the truth because I was afraid he would scold me for wandering about. I wasn't supposed to. That day, he beat me with a bunch of plastic hangers tied together. He would repeatedly beat me until the hangers broke and he would come back every hour to beat me again. He was smart. He beat me at places no one would notice - my upper arm, the soles of my feet. The reason he was so angry was because he thought I was having sex with some boy in school, which is why he couldn't find me. My mother even asked me to pull down my panties so that she could investigate. I didn't even know you can see if someone had sex by looking at their vagina.

Similar incidents reoccurred from time to time as I would go to the nearby cafe in hopes of coming back before my dad came to fetch me. You see, there was never a fixed time. Sometimes he would come hours after my school ended, sometimes he would come on time.

My father was a strict disciplinarian. To him, nothing else is more important than studies. I was a top student right until I was 14 years old, I was still a pretty good student but I started to find other interests -sports, friends, boys. My freedom to go out and hang out with my friends was limited, in fact as I grew older, it became more limited. I hated the holidays and I still do, because there was no school to take solace in; I had to stay at home or work at my dad's office.

I come from a relatively wealthy family. My dad would use money to make me feel guilty for all my wrong-doings. He would say how lucky I am to be able to travel the world, how lucky I am to go to private school. He would say he spent so much money on me and I don't appreciate it. Whenever he said that, I would think to myself...I rather be poor than unhappy. I want to make lots of money next time so that I can repay him and never have anything to do with him.

I know my father had good intentions under all the strict rules and emotional abuse. He didn't want me to go out often because he was afraid of the dangers I would face. He called me fat repeatedly (when I was slightly chubby because I took comfort in food) which would make me eat even more as a form of rebellion.

One day I decided that I didn't want to struggle with my weight anymore (I really wasn't fat: my heaviest weight is 55kg {212 lbs}). I joined a gym near my college and that took care of it. He stopped calling me fat because I became skinny. I have deep fears of becoming fat, in fact I became a mild bulimic. I wouldn't vomit every day but I would vomit whenever I was terribly upset and proceeded to binge to drown my sorrows. The incidents have lessened because sometimes after I binge, I would try my best to refrain from puking as I want to love myself. I have my current boyfriend to thank for this. He's very loyal and supportive. He knows about all my problems and even though we can't see each other often (due to my limited freedom) he still wants to be with me.

I had no privacy with my dad. Because I couldn't hang out with my friends often, my only form of communication was via my hand phone. Several times, my father would go ballistic because the phone bill was expensive and he bangs my bedroom door when he hears me talking on the phone in the middle of the night. I can't talk during the day because they hated it. They would sneer at me while I was on the phone for too long. I've had my room phone and mobile phone confiscated several times. While it was confiscated, my dad would look through every single message. That was how he found out I had a boyfriend. He took my hand phone for a week. He asked my mum to call my boyfriend's parents and to ask them to tell their son not to disturb their daughter. I was 19 years old.

If you noticed, I rarely mentioned my mum. She was the submissive parent. She used to help me whenever my dad wanted to beat me or scolded me unreasonably but she was slowly silenced with blame and beatings. My dad blames her for everything, for my education, for my bad behaviour. He would say "I'm just as stupid as my mum" "I'm exactly like my mum". My mum got even worse physical abuse than I did. My father would punch her and spit at her. My parents argue every day now.

I'm tired now...this is only a snippet of my life.

Right now, I'm 20 years old and I'm currently studying in University of Melbourne. My father would occasionally make me feel guilty for spending all his money to send me to a good university. Unfortunately, I have failed one subject and I've yet to tell him because I'm terrified of what my punishment would be.

The reason I didn't run away is because I want to at least obtain a degree so that it would make it easier for me to find a proper job in the future. Sometimes the pain is too much. I start to wonder if a degree is worth bearing all these for, but my boyfriend said that since I'm already halfway through, I might as well finish it.

The abuse has affected me in various ways. I have panic attacks when something goes wrong or I'm under stress. I sometimes lie unnecessarily because it seems easier that way. I have problems with procrastination. I have waves of depression, sometimes suicidal thoughts but people who don't know me well know me as "the girl who smiles a lot". I have low self-esteem but I have dreams in life and I'm going do all I can to get myself out of this rut.

Sorry for such a long letter and thank you for those who read through the entire thing. I noticed abuse victims like to apologize for minor things. I'm no exception, but I'm trying to control it. I'm looking for advice on how I should cope when my father attacks me again as I'm planning to bear with all these until I get my degree but I don't want to lose myself in the process.

I'll be back with more stories I'd like to share :)

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