Walked A Mile In Their Shoes
This probably sounds stupid, but I often wonder what would I be like, what would it feel like not to know what the sharp pain from cold leather hitting my naked skin would feel like?? I wonder what would it be like to have a father be there to help me learn how to shave?? What would it feel like to be happy that your dad is coming home?? My stomach would literally cramp up and send pain through my body as the time approached when my dad would most likely be arriving back home. I lived in fear, walking on eggshells. There was no rhyme or reason to my dads rage, physical abuse and humiliating tactics. I never knew what was goig to happen once he walked through those doors. Even as a sick 4 year old one night I vomited in my bed in the middle of the night, I didn't know what to do because I knew if I woke up my mom to get help my dad would awaken to and then surely there would be the usual set of whatever form of violence he fancied at that moment, I never knew what it was going to be, kicks to the stomach, whips from a leather belt on my naked skin, and various other tactics that he would employ to hurt me and my mom. My heart cries for the kids who are abused by the adults who are supposed to look after them, love them and show them right from wrong. I've writen a few stories about different life experiences , alot are about the abuse I suffered as a child. I don;t write these stories for sympathy, i don't write with explicit detail for shock value. Asides from the theraputic value of writing that i get, my main aim is to honestly let the reader in to what ever life experience I am writing about. I aim to let the reader feel what it feels like to be powerless and live in fear 24/7. Unless you have watched your mom beat in front of your eyes, lived in the type of fear where you never knew what was going to happen, all you knew was something would, some sort of violence and rage would be taken out on you, one will never no the sense of humiliation, fear , and pain one feels when the person they look to for love and life sustanance treats the like this. I was always confused and still am to this day. My mind tells me he was just rying to teach me to be a man. That's what my dad said a lot. My dad was trying to make me tough when at 3 he would force me to eat and swallow raw chilli peppers, with the threat of being beaten looming over me if I didn't do it or made to much of a fuss while doing it. So yes I feel pain for all abused children. I've walked miles in those same shoes. I feel there pain to this day. Begining as a pre teen, then as a teenager and into adulthood I drowned my sorrows in heroin, crack cocaine which I first started at 14. I became an out going , not sensitive, life of the party at 11 years old drinking alcohol. I released the emotional pain just hours before writing this story laying in my room, in the pitch black, my mind and body shakey but my hand steady as a rock as I gripped the razor blade and began to cut, first cut..oh a warm wave flows through my body, I feel my pulse begin to race, a cold chill runs down my spine, each cut a little deeper because I deserve to suffer. It hurts but it is a physical pain, the type of pain I'm used to and can tolerate, it releases me from the emotional pain and its bondage , until the next time. I'm 30 years old and my dads voice and the thoughts he imprinted into my young impressionable mind still haunt me and scar me. I pray that other children suffering abuse can get out before to much damage is done. Once abused is once to many and the effects will last a life time, it's a lofty hope , but a realistic hope of mine to eradicate abuse in the house hold, or abuse any where. This will only happen if society as a whole lifts the covers and lets the light shine on the perpatrators. They say we don't change when we see the light, we only change when we feel the heat. Break through the shield of secrecy and let the abuser feel the heat.