Childhood Was Walking On Eggshells.

Let's cut to the basics. I had the typical impulsive, unpredictable, verbally and physically abusive father. My mom was emotionally abusive, verbally abusive, and unaffectionate. Growing up in my household was complete hell. I would get hit by my dad for little things like talking "too much", fidgeting "too much", or talking back (which was basically me sticking up for myself). I was not a problem child at all. I was a good kid. I didn't do any drugs, had good friends, and did well in school. However, my parents treated me as if I was HORRIBLE. My dad would tell me things like he wishes I would just die, that I'm worthless, that I'm stupid, that I'm too skinny one day, that I'm too fat the next day, that he'll slit my throat, beat me up until I'm paralyzed, etc. In my teens, I was scared to walk in front of my parents because they'd always comment about how fat I was when they saw me. They'd complain about my "fatness" 4-5 times a day. I only weighed 130 lbs too. That is hardly fat and it really hurt. I tried telling them how it hurt me and they'd both be like "well it's true! You are fat! You don't want us to lie would you?!?!" There are a lot of things I don't remember or I've become numb to. I remember one incident when I was 6, I was sitting on the couch next to my dad and I guess I had said something that he didn't like, so he slammed the remote control on my kneecap. It was really painful and the remote control wouldn't work after that. HE HIT ME SO HARD WITH IT, THAT IT BROKE.

I would get hit at least once a week. It wasn't out of parental discipline but it was out of anger. Another time, my dad hit me on the face the morning before school. I was in 2nd grade and my parents told me to lie to my teachers if they asked about my face. Ofc, my teacher asked about my face at school and I lied to her. I told her that I was playing tag with my brother and ran into a table... I had so much anxiety at home. I'd dread my dad coming home from work. Him stepping through that front door was terrifying and I just knew he'd start a ruckus at home by yelling and such. If I did one thing wrong or said something he didn't like, it would start something whether it be verbal or physical abuse.

7th grade...I came to school crying because that morning my dad punched me in the face and threatened to kill me. My friends wondered why I was crying, so I told them what had happened. They told the counselor and I was called into her office. She asked me if that was true what my dad had done...and I LIED. I told her it wasn't true what I had said to my friends earlier. I was always lying for my scumbag parents. Letting them get away with their sh*t and covering up for them.

My mom knew I was getting physically abused by my dad. It wasn't a secret or anything. She did NOTHING. She'd see it or hear about it by me and do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. She never stuck up for me. In fact, most of the time it was my mom's fault that I'd get hit in the first place. She'd tattle on me and be like "[insert dad's name here] go discipline her! She was a brat while you were at work!" and my dad would hit me! My mom never hugged me, complimented me, or told me she loves me. She's the master of emotional abuse. I would try to talk to her about therapy and how I felt, she'd push me away and turn the other cheek or change the subject.

My parents were financial support for me, but other than that...there's absolutely nothing else they've given to me. There was no love in my childhood. No REAL love.

I will not allow myself to be the people my parents are. I will not abuse my future children. I know what it feels like to be scared every day in your own home. A place where it should be your comfort and safehouse.
pianochick pianochick
22-25, F
2 Responses Nov 28, 2012

wow this sounds too much like my parents.... good luck to you, stay strong.

Reading this story was like reading a narration of my childhood, lol. Except for the fact that my mom wasn't really emotionless, although she did tattle on me. My father did change over the years, however, and he stopped being abusive when I turned 14 and went away (to boarding school). I, too, will never put my children through any of that. We are not victims, we are survivors :)

Thank you for your feedback. You're right, we are survivors. :)