Child Abuse Story From Polly

by Polly
(Ontario, Canada)

Did anyone experience something like this? 
I am having trouble sleeping tonight, so I thought I would rant a bit about some things that are often on my mind.

My father was mentally ill for several years when I was growing up (when I was between 8-18, though he is much better now). I mean actual delusions/hallucinations. Unfortunately for me, a lot of them had to do with me. He would tell me that he could hear my thoughts and that they "weren't good" and he would sometimes snap at me even when I had been completely silent. Every mistake I made (i.e. fork slipping at dinner) to him was "designed to drive him insane" and sometimes he would make me leave the room or the kitchen because of this. I had to eat in the basement once.

He threatened to kill me once for taking a shower(?). I locked the door as quickly as possible and stayed completely quiet. I had to sit in the dark for about an hour. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened otherwise, though I realize that's morbid. (He was only physically abusive to me on a few rare occasions - i.e. once he chased me and dragged me down the stairs for making a joke he didn't like. It was an innocent joke that I can't even remember now)

Our relationship really deteriorated. I was afraid of him (who wouldn't be?) so I would just try to be as quiet as possible when around him (but how could I win? He could hear my thoughts anyways). Then he would gain my mother's sympathy by complaining about how I refused to speak to him. He would tell her I was doing it out of spite. He wouldn't even walk beside me if we had to go somewhere together...but every chance he got, he constantly criticized. I am scatterbrained, but an excellent student...yet I was convinced until very recently that I was an utter moron (I heard about how stupid and "useless" I was constantly).

His temper was so unpredictable and insane that once he barged into my room and ripped out one of my drawers, emptying its contents on my floor because I dropped a gum wrapper by accident in the kitchen.

He also used to turn off the water and electricity on me. I don't know why. Try telling your teacher THAT one when you don't have your essay done!! (I didn't tell my teacher that, I just made something up, ha.)

Probably the thing that hurts me the most is this memory: When I was 14 he was angry at me one morning before I went to school. To punish me, he took out all these X-mas presents (several years worth) that he never opened and just left them outside of my room. I think this hurt me because it shocked me to see how early his hatred began. I felt incredibly stupid because I didn't realize that he hated me that much until that moment. I have anxiety around this idea. I sometimes worry people secretly dislike me and I wonder where I got this idea from? (Even though he has on several occasions told me he doesn't care about me. Once on a family vacation, in front of my mother and sister, he told me he would be "happier if I didn't exist". Nobody said anything. But before the X-mas event, I guess I had always hoped he didn't really mean it.)

I fear X-mas every year because of this. It fills me with cold dread. Every time I think of this memory, I feel like there is a weight on my lungs. I see the memory very vividly, as if it's happening. I kind of feel nauseous and I imagine having to step over those unused presents to go to school. I remember hesitating before I stepped over them and seriously considering just shutting my door and pretending they weren't there. I think walking over them officially ended my childhood (dramatic I know, but I'm a sensitive type).

I think what would make me feel better is if my family had ever stood up for me. They DO behind closed doors. But it doesn't feel the same to me. I've heard my mother quietly pleading for him to be nicer behind closed doors, and it makes me angry...like, why couldn't you say that when that crap was going down? Whenever his anger was directed towards either of them, I stood up for them. In fact, the only time I ever swore at the man was when he was bullying my sister (I couldn't come home for about 3 days as a result, but I feel it was worth it). When I heard him call (my very intelligent) mother dumb, I told him to treat her with more respect, and then I got yelled at by BOTH of them. Hmph!!! There's the self-righteous part of my rant!

Really, I am okay I think. I have close friends whom I have always considered to be my "second family" and a very supportive partner. My life is moving in a positive direction.

But I still have these nights when I feel anxious and sad and unable to stop thinking about these memories. I suppose that's normal? During the day I usually have enough distractions (school, work, whatever it may be) but at night when it's quiet, I find myself ruminating.

I think about the idea of forgiveness. I love my father despite his flaws. I know he feels guilty for what he's done and I have no desire to see him suffer. I try to be kind to him and I genuinely enjoy spending time with him now. But it's so hard to put the past to rest. Sometimes it feels like the past must have just been a bad dream - nobody in my family ever talks about it. I wish they would because instead, I have to use the Internet to vent.

:)

I hope everyone is taking care, thanks for reading! (Long, I know.)

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