Put Your Hands Down

i not sure how i should write this but having read some of the accounts of the horrors mothers inflict on their children, i know i am not alone but having spoken to so called proffessional experts i often felt they were just doing their job and not understanding because alot of the things my mother did to me sound completly unbelievable to anyone who had a normal childhood but i know it happened.
my earliest childhood memory of my mothers violence was when i was 5yrs old, my older brother was running away from home because of the beatings she dished out, i said i would tell if he didnt take me with him so off we went and were soon picked up by the police less than half a mile away . after faking the joy and relief of having us home the policeman left and my mother made us take our shoes and socks off and took us into the kitchen and closed the door and scattered a box of drawing pins on the floor, she then opened the cutlery draw and with a wooden spoon in one hand and a pallette knife in the other proceeded to beat the living daylights out of us. i cant describe the pain of being hit and having drawing pins sticking in my feet whilst all the time being told to put your hands down so she could hit us at ease.
these sorts of beatings went on with alarming regularity, it seemed if she wasnt beating me it would be one of my brothers on the recieving end of her brutality, it didnt stop with my 2 sisters who were the youngest of the family. on one occassion whilst visiting my mother my youngest sister who was 5 at the time ran passed my mother who then pushed my sister into one of the kitchen unit doors that was open and if i hadnt put my arm out and stopped my sister she would have been blinded in at least one eye as she was stopped by me about 2 inches  from the corner of the door, when i pleaded with my mother to stop this behaviour as she had done it to her 4 grown sons and it was carrying on with my two sisters, my mothers response was "well she gets on my nerves".
the worst beating i got from her was when i was late home but i thought that seeing as though i was late in going out as she treated us as her own personal army of housemaids and servants. i was no more than15 minutes late and i laid my bike against the rockery in the garden and felt a whack on my back only to see half a hurley stick land on the floor and as my mother deemed that i had broken the hurley stick she grabbed my brothers hurley and whacked it across my shins,this too broke and sent her into more rage and as i was trying to crawl up the stairs as i couldnt stand out came the rolling pin and that palette knife that allways moved with us from house to house.this was allways our own fault according to her. I HATE HER.
cenobite cenobite
41-45, M
2 Responses Jul 18, 2010

I am sorry that a human child went through this. I hate your mother. Trevecca

When I was a kid, I would tell adults what was going on at home and they would not believe me. Your family has money, they would say, you can't have any problems. My son was abused by his dad. He was diagnosed as having behavioral difficulties. The word abuse was never mentioned. Perhaps it would not have been helpful. Still, I find society/culture's ability for self-deception disturbing.