Child Abuse “Big Tears Little Hearts”

This is such a hard subject for me, being a child of abuse, it has taken years for me to accept and adapt.

I am grateful that so much attention is now being given on a problem that has been around for centuries. A shame it has taken so many years for it to come to light.

In my generation, there was no discussion or complaints lodge that were heard.

I created this blog, in part to be able to address my own fears and bring out truths, opinions and feelings none of us really get the chance to express. Call it a self biography, that can be my Diary or Life’s Journal.

Because I came from a Generation of being stifled and not really listened too, I feel our time has come, and now maybe as a woman, I can finally release those anxieties that have haunted me for years.

And, I hope I can help other women do the same.

Growing up, I was the victim of some very serious abuse, raised by a Mother, (God rest her soul) who had a sever alcohol problem. Sober she was the best Mother anyone could ask for, but once she started drinking, her personality turned 180 degrees. Mean was an understatement, she was down right vicious. Full of anger, she took it out on anyone in her space. Unfortunately, I was in her space a lot. She had no bias on what she struck, or what she used to strike out. Batter and bruised herself from domestic fights with her husband, my step father, I had a tendency to be her double.
So many days and nights I would go to bed hungry, my hair pulled out, bruised so bad it was hard to move, much less sleep.
Some days, I could not even go to school, to beat up and hurt.
When I did, no one ever asked or cared to find out why I had black eyes, or part of my scalp was exposed from the missing hair. If I did try to explain, all I ever got was, “Well, be a good girl, and stay away from her when she is like that.” Yeah, okay, of course…

God Knows I would try to stay away, I would hide, I would even run to the neighbors..would anyone help? NO! No one wanted to get involved, no one wanted to report it, and no one wanted her wrath either.

Schools did not report, and hospitals? What Hospitals, you weren’t taken to a hospital, you healed on your own, or you die.

Now keep in mind, this was not just an occasional problem, this was after a few years, an every day event. Every day the drinking, every day the fights started and the fun begins.

The police were out to our home so often from my mother calling them on my step father or my step father calling them on my mother, they new them both by their First Names..and we are talking a large City…

I use to say growing up, if I had a dime for every time they fought and called the police, I would have been a very rich girl…and the money wasted on divorce attorneys, broken furniture, cars, etc. all products of their violent behavior. From the age of 5, until I left at age 15, it was a total nightmare. At least I could escape to my Grandmothers once in awhile, but I would always have to go back.

Stay tuned for more………

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