Child Abuse Story From Grace

by Grace
(USA)

I'm 17 years old. I have dealt with sexual, physical, and verbal abuse; and with anorexia and cutting. But for the sake of not writing a whole "book" here (and because I'm still not comfortable sharing about the sexual abuse), I'll just stick with writing about my home situation.

My parents have been physically, verbally and emotionally abusive since my brother was born—he's 9 now. My parents had me in public school in kindergarten and 1st grade, but started homeschooling me in 2nd. I don't know why, and I don't know what caused what, but the abuse starting, my brother being born, and me starting to be home-schooled all fall into the same time period.

The majority of my childhood memories with my mom are filled with yelling and screaming. I have pictures of us hugging when I was 6 and younger, but I just can't remember any good times. She never made me feel good about anything, never told me I was pretty, or anything like that. The one thing she did say about my looks was how bad my face looked, because since I was 12, I've struggled with severe acne. That was probably one of the most painful insults she could have ever hurled at me. She also cusses at me and my brother and has done so since we were little.

She also has been a violent physically abusive person. Ever since I was young, "dad's belt" was her favorite form of torture. Any time me or my brother were not making her happy, she'd go get the belt and chase us around the house with it - even when my brother was as young as 2 or 3 years old! I'd always rush and grab him and we'd lock ourselves in the bathroom and I'd hold him and we'd both tremble in fear as she'd pound the outside of the bathroom door with the belt, and we'd just stay there until she'd finally give up and go away.

One time, I remember I was 12 and didn't make it to the bathroom to hide. She had me cornered in our living room and I had my back turned to her, hiding my face in the wall, and she cracked the belt hard against my body. It left a welt on my shoulder. After that was the first time I tried to tell someone about the abuse, because a teacher from my church put her arm around my shoulder the day after, and I winced in pain. She asked "what's wrong" and I said my mom hit me with the belt. A look came across her face, like she was concerned but didn't want to get involved so she didn't say anything else about it. My mom has also hit my brother lots and stuff like that. She stopped doing the belt thing about 3 years ago. Thankfully! She also used to throw random objects at me, such as shoes and books and one time a hammer a couple years ago. I remember I ducked so the hammer wouldn't hit me. It hit a ceramic on my bookshelf, and when my dad got home from work and I told him what happened, he got mad because the ceramic broke.

Unlike my mom, my dad is not continually angry. When I was little (until age 12 or 13), I was a complete "Daddy's girl" because I hated being with my mom because she was always so angry. As I look back on it now though, I see that his unpredictability was a twisted form of torture in itself. It messed with my head majorly. See he'd be nice and all...until something would set him off. Then he would literally RAGE with anger and strike out and yell - you could SEE it in his eyes, they would just go as cold as stone when he'd get mad.

The first (and possibly one of the worst) times I can remember was when I was still in public school. I couldn't find my backpack and I asked him where it was. He told me to look in front of my toy box. I did and I found it. I went back to him to thank him and what I meant to say was "wow, you must be psychic!" but I got my words confused (I was only 6!) and said "wow, you must be psycho!" Well he jumped up from where he was sitting and shoved me face first into the wall and started very violently spanking me, I remember screaming and crying saying "what did I do, what did I do?" and then he realized his mistake and stopped and finally asked "oh, did you mean psychic?" He felt bad about it and he did let me "spank" him once, (hit his butt with my hand) but that didn't erase the fact that he had uncalled for rage over the fact that I'd used the wrong word but had had the best intentions a 6-year-old could have. That's how it is with my dad - usually after anything he ever did to me, or does to my brother, he always apologizes. Which is good, but if he keeps on doing the same thing later, how can the apology mean much? I learned that by the time I was 12, but sadly my brother hasn't learned it yet, and it is so painful to watch him get hit and hurt by Dad, then see how forgiving he is which just sets him up for more pain. I'm not saying forgiveness is a bad thing, actually it's commanded to us by God to forgive others just as He forgave us, but there is a difference between forgiving and letting yourself be hurt.

He wasn't just physically abusive, he has always also been verbally/emotionally abusive. One of the things he used to say all the time was "Why did God give me such WORTHLESS CHILDREN?!" Every time I'd make the slightest mistake or bad judgment or wrong decision, he'd yell into my face "Don't you ever THINK?!" It always made me feel like I couldn't do ANYTHING right.

My dad told me that the reason my mom didn't like me and wasn't close to me when I was a kid is because I ruined her dream of having the perfect daughter. She wanted a daughter who was a "girly girl" basically, who loved cooking and cleaning and dress up and stuff. I didn't like any of that. I was a total tomboy. My favorite things to do involved danger and adventure. I loved playing out in the woods and exploring and climbing trees. But she never supported me in anything I liked to do. The worst part is that she dreamed her whole life of having the perfect daughter and I let her down by just being ME. Now when I see girls hug their moms, it just seems so foreign and distant to me, because me and mom were never close. It makes me think, Wow, that must be nice, wish I knew what that felt like. But since me and my dad WERE close for so long, it hurts even worse to see girls hug their dads. Because I know what that is like. It makes me think, What did I do wrong to pull us apart? What is wrong with me? I don't understand how my parents can claim to love me and my brother, but then their actions...they sure don't match their words.

My mom made me see a counselor when I was 15, but it wasn't "We want you to see a counselor so they can help you because we care", it was "You have to see a counselor because you are messed up." People that I had confided in told her I had been cutting myself for months. She also knew that I was not eating to lose weight. But she didn't find that out until 4 months after I'd already been doing it. The only reason she found out when she did is because a cousin of mine told her.

Things didn't go so great with that counselor, or the next 2 after her, and now I'm not seeing anyone. I don't think it was helping anyway. Sure I am still struggling greatly with all the crap that's happened at home, and the sexual abuse memories that I have. I still struggle with cutting and anorexia, but I just don't think that talking to a counselor helped much. I've got a few trusted adults at my church and stuff that I can talk to when I need to.

Last year I told some trusted adults for the first time about the abuse at home. They reported it to DCS and CPS and even the police SEVERAL times and all that did was make things WORSE. DCS came to our house and told my parents that they had been reported. Then they told us that they couldn't do anything because there wasn't enough "evidence", even after we'd given them 52 pages of written evidence (emails I'd sent people telling about what mom and dad did, and a letter from my best friend who has witnessed the abuse), pictures of a bruise on my brother from mom hitting him (this was VERY hard to get without my parents finding out, and all DCS said was "he probably walked into something." Tell me, if the bruise is on his shoulder blade what was he doing, walking backwards?!. We also let them hear a recording I made of mom hitting Ryan (and that almost got me into A LOT of trouble with dad because he caught me doing it and literally chased me all around the house and yard until I finally crawled up under our back deck with my dog and stayed there until he left!). And even with all of that, they said it isn't enough proof. And now they can't do anything else because the case was "open" for 3 months and they didn't have enough evidence to keep it open any longer, or so they said.

I hate DCS. I hate that my brother is being hurt. I wish I had spoken up sooner than last year. If I had told when I was little then my brother probably wouldn't BE in this mess. It's all my fault. If I had been a better daughter to them then we would have been a happy family, that's what they always say. My mom says it's nobody's business what goes on at home and that parents have a right to discipline their children however they want to. Therefore me and my brother are stuck in a bad situation. I don't think we'll ever get out. I want to move out as soon as I turn 18 in December, but it's going to break my heart to leave my little brother there. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Darlene's comments to this "Child Abuse Story From Grace" are at the link below.

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