I Am A Suvivor, An Emotionally Wounded Child, Married And Sexually Acting Out: Episode One

I need help and I am getting it, now...

I am the third of four children, born into a stressed family. My father was distant as he had a house to pay, three children and a wife not working. Mom was an abusive person: all the children had to clean the house on a schedule before breakfast on school days. Saturdays we all 'thoroughly' cleaned the house. My brother had the bedrooms, my sister the main floor and me the basement. Mom was The White Glove! She would inspect: looking for dust upon furniture.
Concerning me: WHEN mom found 'unacceptable' condition of my room or anything else, I would be ordered to re-clean the complete room. Any, ANY verbal disagreement on my part would yield a severe screaming harangue with large, offensive words including but not limited to horrid profanity describing sexual acts she would perpetrate upon me; Yiddish(we are Jewish) evil sounding, viscious words which, like knives, still harm me to this day and extremely humiliating insults flung like poison darts. I choke up NOW thinking about these episodes.
     I was six years old, in the summer all the kids were out playing, running and biking after dinner- like seventy of us. This was a new 'developement' and all the owners were 'young couples'. Mom told me to "go inside and take a bath. Get ready for bed." "I want to stay out and play." Which I did. Any other normal woman would have said 'Go in now! '  My mom was too embarrassed to 'make a scene'.
   The kids went in, the night came down and I was locked out of my house. I sat there on the steps until Dad (The Enforcer) arrived from his 15 hour day as a Supermarket Butcher. He asked why I was outside. "Mom locked me out."
   He went inside, locked the door and came out a few minutes later. He asked what time it was. As a baby, I did not know how to tell time. At this, he lifted me by my left arm and carried me inside and locked the door. The entrance was four feet wide. One wall had a small bathroom the other had the kitchen. He asked me why I did not go in when told. I answered truthfully. I received a swift open-handed smack to my face which put me off my feet toward the door. He the POUNCED upon me. He grabbed my wrists across my chest with his left hand and the proceded to yell and growl into my face just before he began the eight or ten minute beating-of-my-life! My face, head, and shoulders were hit open-handed smacks quite swiftly. Perhaps three minutes into this I came to the Adult Epiphany of "This cannot ever happen again. I must leave this house!!"
    He stopped for a moment when he pulled my wrists above my head and thus my small body away from his chest: Still lying on the floor and upon me!! The beating continued around my face and body only avoiding my hips and lower. He screamed,"Why don't you listen to Mommy???" "Why!! Why!!" "Why Must I come home to you!!" Then the profanity began. He must have had the worst day and then Mom filled him with HER poison. I guess, after the sweat from him dripping upon my face and neck I became numb to the attack. The next sound after the whistling hand then loud skin smacking was my Mom calling him to stop. "She thinks its enough." He GROWLED into my ear with his scratchy face against mine.
   He the ceased for a moment. He pulled back to get up as his iron grip kept my wrists locked together...lifting me off the floor. He turned toward the door, slamming me back first into the oaken door. I remember hearing the knock of my skull against it. My crying ceased as I was now stunned. He was panting, mom was calling and I was suspended in the air still receiving open-handed smacks to the torso.
   Mom got out of bed and walked to the top of stairs and called him very loudly. His fury was not completely expended as he then opened the door and tossed me out upon the concrete porch. "Since you like to stay out, STAY OUT!!!"
  I sat there hysterically crying for about ten minutes. I could hear them arguing but muffled voices.  Soon after my neighbor from two doors away walked over to me and asked what happened. I realized years later he must have heard the 'goings on' and watched the house. This family were anti-semetic, but as religious people, MR. M. did the charitable good deed for me- a victim! I tried to speak but I could only calm to crying,"My dad BEAT me!"  He answered quietly,"I see that!" I was given a hot chocolate but had only had two sips when Dad came out and called me. I panicked thinking that more was to come.
   MR. M. asked my dad what was so wrong. My father was a veteran who was unafraid. Dad answered," I will discipline as I see fit, understand?"
   "Maybe you went too far..."    My dad stepped quickly to this six foot two man who really did not want to fight," You want him, Bill?" (Not his name)
   "He may be your son, but you went to far." MR. M. took a step back from my five foot five dad. "You come home." with that he pulled me by my arm.

   From that day, I began to do everything I could to get ready to leave. That came when I was seventeen.  More episodes to follow.
RonniePonyStrong RonniePonyStrong
36-40, M
1 Response Aug 3, 2010

Wow, this is horrible. They both had huge issues themselves. They were responsible for helping you develop a healthy ego and the skills necessary to deal with the world so you could be happy. They were both irrational and selfish to behave with such callousness and disregard for your well being. I have been abused emotionally by my father so I understand the scars. I'm 47 and still in emotional distress. Possibly this book will help you deal with the scars. <br />
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Adult children of abusive parents: A healing program for those who have been physically, sexually, or emotionally abused. By Steven Farmer<br />
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