Words Do Hurt

by Karen
(Texas)

The earliest memory I have about my abuse was at my birthday when I was in kindergarten. My parents had a birthday party for me and it was my first that I can remember. There were a lot of gifts. The next day in school, I was excited to open them all. However, when my mother came home from work she beat me. She was pulling my hair and telling me she was going to make me bald. She shouted at me and told me I was a bad girl. HER version was that she told me not to open the gifts because my Aunt begged my mother to give 1 present to my cousin.


I remember my father beating me up with a stick to "help" me learn my ABCs. His eyes were red and angry. There were other times where my parents beat me up for the stupidest reason. Get this, I got beat up because I didn't color my homework! My teacher simply just asked if we had crayons at home and that triggered a beating in the laundry room.

The worst was in 1st grade. I don't remember what exactly happened. You know how in grade school, you have those dumb cards red, green, yellow. I think I got red for talking during a test and not doing my homework. My mother retaliated by telling me my "dad" was going to kill me. My parents kept a knife on a shelf as a "reminder" to my siblings and me. She told me she was taking my two sisters to Grandma's house. Well my father came and grabbed the knife. He ran towards me and grabbed me. My mother and my sister tried to stop him. I don't know if this was meant to scare me, but I know that he cut my mother’s hand when she tried to stop him. I got away and ran to the bathroom. Locked it of course. I heard my "dad" say "maybe she will learn"..... Mind you I was a child. In 1st GRADE. What could I have done that was so bad that I deserved that?

Fast forward to 3rd grade. I got beat up again surprise! It was because I forgot my book at home and the teacher wrote a note. This time there was a bruise on my neck. The same teacher noticed it and I told her I "fell". She didn’t believe it but she didn’t do anything. Where do you think I would have been if she did? Do you think it would have changed anything?

5th grade I told my counselor at school what was going on. I didn’t have any bruises so it was stupid of me to go. Well he didn’t believe me but still called my parents. Does this make sense to anyone? Why would you call the abusers as if they are willingly to say, "Yup I did that. Take me away". I got beat up. The next morning, she came into my room to see if I was "bruised". The counselor contacted me in my class. He asked me why my "mother" didn’t pick up when he called. He then said, "I am going to get to the bottom of this." For a second, I *swear* It looked like he believed me. I went to my lovely house. I overheard my mother talking to my counselor. These were her exact words. "She can't watch T.V so she thinks she's getting abused." I can’t explain how I felt. I was a laughingstock for YEARS. Somehow word got out to my friends and they judged me. My counselor judged me as well. Does he know how I covered up my mirrors because I was so ashamed to look at myself? Does he see me flinch when I hear my name? Does he want to see me mutilate myself? Do I have to put a bullet through my head for people to understand? What will it take?

"Words don’t hurt". Yes, they do. That’s what makes emotional abuse so hard. People don't get it. Long story short. My siblings got in the habit of ridiculing me. So my "Father", "Mother" and siblings, 4 people went around emotionally abusing me.

Here’s one thing I never told anyone. Please Please tell me I am not alone. I feel my brain deteriorate. I am so clueless and confused all the time. I can’t process information quickly as others. I can’t talk, and I stutter. This brain fog drives me crazy. It makes me scared to be confused all the time. Am I the only one? Tell me no.

I am so *aggressive* and angry all the time but the drugs help a lot. I have a hard time getting along with people. The drugs make the brain fog worse, but it helps me be at peace. It helps me forget. The Privileged people don't understand why I am "this way". I hate the way they tell me, "What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger". I hate the way they pretend to know what it feels like.

I am not going to say I am glad I am being abused. I don’t see how being unwanted and broken makes me a better person. How it will make me "stronger"?

God, If only lived a normal life. Who would I be?

My aunt is abusive to my cousin. My cousin tells me about it all the time. We are close in age, so we stick together. We have gone through the abuse together. We talked about our life after this and all the fun things we would do. Her parents are divorced. Her father tried getting custody, but her mother would never let that happen until my aunt beat up my cousin and bruises showed up. My cousin had the guts to tell the school about the abuse. Long story short, her father got custody of my cousin. Now she lives happily ever after. I want to be happy, but I can't. She's so happy in her new environment. She got her happy ending sooner than I did. Where's my happy ending? It makes me so angry.

My family has a history of abuse. I heard stories of my grandmother abusing my mother as a child. I heard stories of my great-grandmother abusing my grandmother. What happens if I continue this trend?

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From Victim to Victory
a memoir

How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life

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