Emotionally Abused As A Child - Finally Able To Tell My Story

The Tale of a Young Girl

1993 was one of the best and worst years of my life. I was given the best present I could have ever asked for, my little sister. However, once she was born, something happened, shifted in my life. I always had a weird feeling that my family was different, but being so young, I just couldn't understand. 1993 was the year that my father began abusing me. I hadn't known, but he had been mentally and physically abusive to my mom for years, and for reasons I can still not fathom, he began his reign of emotional terrorism including me, his first born.

I was four years old when he began tormenting my every waking moment. If my father wasn't screaming at the top of his lungs over not playing with my toys the "right" way, wetting the bed, crying, giving him a "look", then I was in constant terror of what he would do next. I would stay outside for hours just sitting in the swing in the back, praying he wouldn't find me or notice I wasn't in the house. I was afraid for my life. I spent hours hyperventilating on in the cold empty tub in the dark until I could finally encourage my body to rest.

He would spit "Stop that f*cking crying! Or I'll give you something to cry about!" at me any time I would tear up. I wasn't allowed to be unhappy or sad, yet it was a crime to be happy if he was in one of his "moods". My mother was there, but never did a thing in fear he would hurt her too. They would get into fights, but rarely would it end well. I did my best to take care of my little sister when things got bad between them, but it was not a situation that I could have ignored. After the fights, my father would come into my room after my mother read me a story, and he would whisper in my ear "it's all your fault we fight all of the time. You better behave tomorrow, or else I'll have a special surprise for you".

Once we moved houses and I grew a few years older, things progressively got worse. The verbal attacks, humiliation, guilt, threats all escalated. I would stay with friends as often as possible, trying to escape the torment. Soon teachers and my friends' parents began noticing that I had gone from a bubbly little girl to a sad frightened withdrawn tense child.

When people who cared for me spoke to my mother and father, I then realized that my father was the best actor in the world. He turned on the charm and just said I was going through a phase. This is also when he began telling everyone in my life that I was a pathological liar. I was seven then.

This one act convinced me that no matter how hard I tried, no one would believe me that he was hurting me. I was alone. He told me I was worthless, and I believed him. I even began believing that I was a liar, just making up fantasy. My daddy said I deserve this, and he's my dad, so he has to be right. I'm just a kid, I don't know any better, I'm stupid. This time was short lived.

Finally after I started biting myself until I bled, I was taken to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder and mild depression. I would tell my psychologist everything, and she would just try and teach me how to be compliant to try and prevent his "episodes". I put so much hope in that she would get me out of the abuse... I began becoming more reserved, holding more anger and resentment. I was done letting him hurt me, and I knew what I was going to do.

Angry Adolescence

The situation with my father began to escalate drastically through my Pre-Teen and Teenage years. I was dating and out of the house, so when I was home I received a royal helping of his abuse. But I no longer was a silent child, I was angry and wanted him to hurt so much... After I saw him going after my little sister I lost it. That was the only thing he gave me that I still treasured, and I refused to see him break her. At this point, I was already praying for death, just too coward to do it myself, so if he snapped and killed me I thought it would be a blessing for everyone.

I knew his every insecurity, every button to push, I knew everything that would eat at him at his very core. I would say everything and anything to hurt him, entering the verbal war, but he still had cannons in his arsenal when I was only able to get daggers in. I would run away in defeat nearly every time. I wouldn't back down though. Every moment he spent tormenting my mother or my sister I would jump in their defense to pull the attention away from them, because I saw them as weak and defenseless. I knew I couldn't handle it on my own, but I didn't care anymore. I was already causing self harm and had attempted suicide on more than one occasion. I ended up getting into drugs to dull the pain. These were the worst years of my life.

Growing Into Someone New

I wasn't around much when I was legally old enough to remove myself from the situation, but would always be around as often as I could bare it for my sister and mother. In the course of a few years, my mother finally left my father and moved out with my sister.

Finally I was able to escape the torment of my father at age 19, but he still had loose ends he would use against me. I slowly cut the ties he had around my neck one by one until I was finally free by the time I got married at 22. I've become a happy person. I love life now, and am always looking forward to the future. I work hard and try and enjoy life to the fullest. I still battle my anxiety and depression, but I can say that this has been the happiest part of my life thus far!

After the wedding, I didn't speak to him until just recently. He remarried, but to someone just like him - someone who loved to see others in pain. We had been in contact saying that we would forget the past and start anew. Turns out he was looking for a way to wiggle back into my life to hurt me.

I have finally gotten some closure without having to be cruel like him. I had to become a different kind of person. I hated myself as he left me. Once he called my sister and tried to make her feel guilty, hurt, worthless... I decided that I no longer could have him hanging in the background of my life with his hateful heart.

Here are my last words for my father

The Last Time


This is the last time you will hear from me, so I hope you can truly hear me for the first time.

Since “letting go of the past” didn't work out that great, I might as well share everything I feel with you now.

I cannot tell you how hard it has been to mend the pieces of myself that had been broken, and re-broken, by both you and mom over the years. Parents mold their children in their image, and I had become a toxic person because of you, and none of the blame for this can be shared with mom. Since childhood, I can remember holding so much anger, hate, and resentment in my heart that I could hardly think straight. Thinking up the absolutely most horrific and painful things to say to someone had become second nature to me, since that’s how you taught me how to treat others, and I still have to fight those thoughts away daily. All you could focus on was the worst in every aspect of your life, and I picked up that same way of thinking.

When someone is just a child (4-20 years old) and the one man in your life that is supposed to love you unconditionally calls you horrific names like “*****”, “****”, “****”, etc., you don’t learn how to be the right kind of person. I understand that you had difficulties with your marriage, and I can understand why you might need to blame my mom for some of your actions, but you need to be able to take some accountability for your what you did to me and Madison. You chose and spoke the words. It would be pretty cool if mom was a secret telekinetic monster that put every word in your mouth and forced you to say them, but we all know that’s not true. You created someone just like you in me. We always said together that we were so alike. Turns out I was never meant to be like you in the first place.

You knew from an early age that I was different, overly sensitive and very emotional with anxiety and depression issues. Mom, Madison, and myself begged you to join family counseling with us, yet you refused and would just wait in the car. My counselors all tried to teach me how to ignore the abuse, and simply put up with it. I just couldn't stand to watch it happen. I knew it wasn't right, and I began to be just like you, saying the things that I thought, no I knew, would hurt you at your very core. I believe that that’s when you began hating me. The abuse is not something made up in our minds, it was very very real, and some day you will have to come to face the truth of it all.

You continued your reign of hate and emotional terrorism until I could take no more, secluding myself in the pitch black bathroom hyperventilating. I was only a child, starting at age four. How was I supposed to protect myself? Always calling me a wonderful actress, you never could see that I was in constant psychological torment. Mom wasn't perfect, but she addressed my needs where you blatantly ignored them. Continuing to abuse me psychologically, and some may even consider your shoving and pushing as physical abuse, I endured your wrath, fighting back for myself, Madison, and mom whenever I could get the strength to.

Before every family gathering you would warn us that if we “misbehaved” that we would pay for it. You conditioned all three of us to put on a fake smile and act like everything was alright. My family didn't really know who I was at all until now. No one knew of the abuse for years until Mom finally told Grandma Pat. Your parents, sisters, everyone in your life had no idea who you became at home with us. You were angry and resentful and you took it out on us daily.

I am a survivor of abuse, and in the most heinous form I could have received due to my psychological differences, Dad. When I finally got out of your house for good I started to become a whole different person. I no longer had to say hurtful things to protect myself. I didn't have suicidal thoughts anymore and I stopped cutting myself. Growing up is one thing, but I had to become a different person. I am now a kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, and all around great person. I think of others before myself, always look for the hidden silver lining, and would rather hurt myself than cause others pain.

I wish I could have been this person my whole life. I've had to make amends with others for what I had said to them in my fits of rage, which turns out was just my learned defense mechanism from the abuse. I hurt people, and my words still haunt them to this day, and that’s something that I will have to live with my entire life. It truly sickens me what I had been. All I was asking for was for you to do the same. I was a child, and you saying that I deserved what you said to me is not acceptable.

Thank you for showing your true colors still flow through you, as I no longer have any way of dealing with the pain you cause me. This has prevented me so much pain and suffering, and for this I will always be grateful.

With all of this being said, I am a new person with a new life, and there’s no room in it for you. It breaks my heart to say this, but I’m better off without you, and Zach (my husband) completely agrees. We don’t want you in our lives, or in our future childrens’ lives. I will tell them as little of the bad as possible, and as much as the good as I can remember of their Grandpa Andy.

We all know that I am not the greedy money hungry beast you are trying to make me out to be to others. Saying that I am only in contact with Mom because she got a legal settlement from you from the divorce is ridiculous since she’s a addicted to spending every cent she has; but I suppose you need some excuse for why your children are not in contact with you.

If you want to tell people the truth about me, here is some information you can give them:

I work in Marketing/Advertising (Web and Print) for post high school education institutions; I married my high school sweet heart and love him more than I ever thought I could love another person; My dream is to go back to school and become a children’s book author/illustrator and to have at least two of my own kids to read them to.

I truly hope that you and Donna have a long and healthy life together.

I formally rescind any and all invitations to contact me via phone, email, mail, Facebook, or in person. Zach would like to formally withdraw his invitations for contact as well. If you still have any love for me, you will respect my need to not have you in my life.

You are my father and I will always have a place for you in my heart, but just not in my life.

Your Daughter"

He's still trying to lie about why his daughters don't speak to him on Facebook, and it's hard knowing that he has to make others believe that my sister and I are greedy, selfish, and just bad people to the core. But it's so much better than the alternative.

I suppose if I had to say one more thing to my father, it would be:
Making the decision not to have you in my life is painful, but what hurts most is that I'll never get the apology from you that I have deserved for far too long. I guess if I heard you say that you were sorry for destroying me every night after I put myself back together every day, that it would erase what you did to me for sixteen years. You stole so much from me, and even though a part of me still feared what you could do to me, I was still willing to give you another chance to be in my life. The hope that you had changed was ripped out of my grasp and left me unable to breathe. I knew you were too proud for your own good, but the child inside me, who misses the thought of having a Dad, couldn't stand the thought that you would still be able to hurt me so freely.

Note to the Reader: Thank you so much for reading this very long post. It was difficult to write, but I hope that my story can help others with their struggle with abuse.
feariedust feariedust
22-25, F
Nov 26, 2012