Child Abuse Story From Sam1
by Sam
(Missouri, USA)
Emotional Abuse:
My kind of abuse is emotional. My dad hits my mom. He doesn't touch me but he tells me I do things wrong and constantly yells at me. If he wants me to do the laundry he doesn't say "will you do the laundry?", or "do the laundry?", he yells "do the laundry right now." Then after I do it he will ask me questions about how I did it and tell me it wasn't right, or if it was right he will say "are you sure??!!" It just makes me feel like he doesn't think I can do things right. It really hurts to be discouraged like that.
The only time he ever put his hands on me was when I jokingly called him a liar. He shoved his finger in my face and yelled, "If you EVER call me a liar again I will throw all of your stuff in the dumpster." My mom couldn't do anything but watch because he would just get mad and break something or hurt me more, or hurt her. I would rather him hurt me than have to watch him treat my mom like anything less than a queen.
My mom means more than the world to me and I want her to have a wonderful husband that treats her as awesome as she is. All she ever wanted was to have a family, and that is gone now.
My dad has a girlfriend and he refuses to let me meet her. My dad is bi-polar and he used to be an alcoholic. My mom is deeply depressed and she does nothing but work, sleep, and sit in the kitchen, and when she has a couple dollars she goes to the bar. (She does put me first in every situation.)
My dad neglected me so much that I was a suicidal fifth grader! When he comes near me I get kinda scared and I often have anxiety attacks for no reason at all. I'm afraid that if I do anything in front of people or admit to being proud of something or liking something, people will be mean to me.
I am at a new school now and my dad is doing a little bit better and I am starting to realize that some people will love me for who I am and not the things I do. Probably the only reason I am alive right now is because of my fifth grade teacher. She was there for me. I always knew that someone was there for me and someone cared. That was the only thing my chance at life depended on. No one will ever be able to explain how grateful I am for her. I probably owe her everything I can offer. She doesn't know how much gratitude I have. I am starting to gain more self-esteem and confidence and everyone around me is noticing. I have a lot of friends now and I am much happier now. But the scars he caused will always be there.
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