Not happy things
I'm SO judgmental lately. I was riding the bus this morning when one of my old neighbors got on...I think her name was Kathy...I'm not even sure. Her husband/boyfriend's name was Wayne. I remember that clearly. Seemed like a nice guy most of the time.
Until she would appear out of the house crying...and he would be wasted drunk. When he was that way, he reminded me of my step-father. I don't KNOW that he hit her, but I can guess that there was some type of abuse going on.
Speculation...sure. But he didn't seem so nice after drinking.
It's hard not to automatically jump to the wrong conclusion for me. See..I know the statistics. I know that a LOT of woman get abused. I've seen it first hand.
The only reason I started going down this road was because she had someone who HAD to be her daughter with her. And her daughter had her kid with her...a little boy, couldn't be more than 4 or 5. He had a Blue's Clues shirt on, so I'm gonna guess 4.
And he had a black eye. And it freaked me out a little. Cause my mind started thinking...well, maybe her daughter has perpetuated the abuse. Cause statistics show that that is what happens. Who cares that I know better? I am one of out a million (ok, I'm exaggerating), but if she is living with someone who beats her up...and maybe even beats the kid up (I KNOW, it's a lot to go on based on one black eye. Kids hurt themselves all the time. Derek often has bruises and he can't even tell me how he got them. Usually playing on the playground, I would guess), then it's just a hopeless cycle.
The kid learns it, thinks it's OK to beat up on women and so on and so on.
I thank (I was gonna say God...but maybe I outta just thank myself) someone that I didn't do the same. That somewhere I had the sense in my head to think that isn't right. Cause some people DON'T KNOW that being beaten up is not ok.
He hit me once. My mother came UNDONE! It was kind of nice to see her care about me. I had my little brother (I couldn't have been more than 12) and I wouldn't hand him over to him. He was STAGGERING drunk and I was NOT gonna pass a toddler (or baby, I can't quite remember) to him. So, he hit me, across the face, open handed. It didn't hurt much, but it shocked the hell outta me.
She just went crazy on him...but it kind of makes me sad that she had the courage to stick up for me...and I guess she had the courage to stick up for herself..but she would just hit him back. They would go ROUNDS, and we would hide upstairs in the bedroom, pretending this wasn't happening. Pretending everything was fine...hoping to someone, ANYONE, that the police wouldn't come and take them away. Cause I didn't know what would happen to us then. And yet she NEVER had the courage to just leave. Maybe that seems like the cowards way out, but it seems to me that the real courage would be to admit that HITTING each other was NOT RIGHT. That maybe they did not belong together. That maybe she didn't love him as much as she thought. I couldn't imagine hitting Ben and I couldn't imagine him hitting me. If he did, that would be it. I would be outta there.
Jake used to throw little tantrums, but he never touched me. Sure I didn't like his anger, but he never would have hurt me. I woulda taken him out, honestly. I easily out weighed him and that would have been it.
And after that initial defending myself, I woulda been outta there.
Looking back, it's really hard to believe that I survived. I mean, drug abuse, sexual abuse, and physical abuse and I managed to survive and even make myself better. It's SO much to happen to one person. I could see one or the other, but all three?
Funnier still, and not haha funny, was how much she would mentally abuse me. I mean....just little things. Once she called me a slut and insinuated that I "enjoyed" the sexual abuse. As far as physically, multiple times she pulled my hair...she didn't BELIEVE in spankings, but she sure liked to pull my hair, or smack me across the back. Hard too. Once she scratched my neck so bad that everyone thought I'd burned myself on a curling iron. Sure she didn't MEAN TO scratch me, but she did, when she was reaching to pull my hair. I joked it off and told people I'd tried to cut my own head off.
Looking back it's so FREAKING HARD TO BELIEVE that NO ONE thought anything of the weird things I would say. So much of it could have tipped them off. I've got this really awful picture of me...standing in the yard with my sisters and brother and my step father and I am standing about as far away from them as I can..and I wasn't smiling. I don't have many pictures where I was smiling after a certain point. I just didn't understand how things could still go on the way they were and I could still live.
Almost the first thing I did after running away was to cut my hair SHORT. Very short. I didn't want anyone pulling my hair anymore.
Anyhow....I'm not sure how to end this as usual, this is just what came out. Like vomiting. verbal vomiting. That little kid really threw me for a loop today. I hadn't meant to go SO in depth, but it just came out that way.
(Uh oh, I'm blogging naked again)
Three cheers for me! I didn't cry once while writing this! It's that far behind me. Or maybe I just think of it as some sort of story. With that detachment that is SO convenient.
Make of it what you will.
Until she would appear out of the house crying...and he would be wasted drunk. When he was that way, he reminded me of my step-father. I don't KNOW that he hit her, but I can guess that there was some type of abuse going on.
Speculation...sure. But he didn't seem so nice after drinking.
It's hard not to automatically jump to the wrong conclusion for me. See..I know the statistics. I know that a LOT of woman get abused. I've seen it first hand.
The only reason I started going down this road was because she had someone who HAD to be her daughter with her. And her daughter had her kid with her...a little boy, couldn't be more than 4 or 5. He had a Blue's Clues shirt on, so I'm gonna guess 4.
And he had a black eye. And it freaked me out a little. Cause my mind started thinking...well, maybe her daughter has perpetuated the abuse. Cause statistics show that that is what happens. Who cares that I know better? I am one of out a million (ok, I'm exaggerating), but if she is living with someone who beats her up...and maybe even beats the kid up (I KNOW, it's a lot to go on based on one black eye. Kids hurt themselves all the time. Derek often has bruises and he can't even tell me how he got them. Usually playing on the playground, I would guess), then it's just a hopeless cycle.
The kid learns it, thinks it's OK to beat up on women and so on and so on.
I thank (I was gonna say God...but maybe I outta just thank myself) someone that I didn't do the same. That somewhere I had the sense in my head to think that isn't right. Cause some people DON'T KNOW that being beaten up is not ok.
He hit me once. My mother came UNDONE! It was kind of nice to see her care about me. I had my little brother (I couldn't have been more than 12) and I wouldn't hand him over to him. He was STAGGERING drunk and I was NOT gonna pass a toddler (or baby, I can't quite remember) to him. So, he hit me, across the face, open handed. It didn't hurt much, but it shocked the hell outta me.
She just went crazy on him...but it kind of makes me sad that she had the courage to stick up for me...and I guess she had the courage to stick up for herself..but she would just hit him back. They would go ROUNDS, and we would hide upstairs in the bedroom, pretending this wasn't happening. Pretending everything was fine...hoping to someone, ANYONE, that the police wouldn't come and take them away. Cause I didn't know what would happen to us then. And yet she NEVER had the courage to just leave. Maybe that seems like the cowards way out, but it seems to me that the real courage would be to admit that HITTING each other was NOT RIGHT. That maybe they did not belong together. That maybe she didn't love him as much as she thought. I couldn't imagine hitting Ben and I couldn't imagine him hitting me. If he did, that would be it. I would be outta there.
Jake used to throw little tantrums, but he never touched me. Sure I didn't like his anger, but he never would have hurt me. I woulda taken him out, honestly. I easily out weighed him and that would have been it.
And after that initial defending myself, I woulda been outta there.
Looking back, it's really hard to believe that I survived. I mean, drug abuse, sexual abuse, and physical abuse and I managed to survive and even make myself better. It's SO much to happen to one person. I could see one or the other, but all three?
Funnier still, and not haha funny, was how much she would mentally abuse me. I mean....just little things. Once she called me a slut and insinuated that I "enjoyed" the sexual abuse. As far as physically, multiple times she pulled my hair...she didn't BELIEVE in spankings, but she sure liked to pull my hair, or smack me across the back. Hard too. Once she scratched my neck so bad that everyone thought I'd burned myself on a curling iron. Sure she didn't MEAN TO scratch me, but she did, when she was reaching to pull my hair. I joked it off and told people I'd tried to cut my own head off.
Looking back it's so FREAKING HARD TO BELIEVE that NO ONE thought anything of the weird things I would say. So much of it could have tipped them off. I've got this really awful picture of me...standing in the yard with my sisters and brother and my step father and I am standing about as far away from them as I can..and I wasn't smiling. I don't have many pictures where I was smiling after a certain point. I just didn't understand how things could still go on the way they were and I could still live.
Almost the first thing I did after running away was to cut my hair SHORT. Very short. I didn't want anyone pulling my hair anymore.
Anyhow....I'm not sure how to end this as usual, this is just what came out. Like vomiting. verbal vomiting. That little kid really threw me for a loop today. I hadn't meant to go SO in depth, but it just came out that way.
(Uh oh, I'm blogging naked again)
Three cheers for me! I didn't cry once while writing this! It's that far behind me. Or maybe I just think of it as some sort of story. With that detachment that is SO convenient.
Make of it what you will.
Comments
It makes me feel better to know that other people think I turned out well.
I have days where I am just my harshest critic, as everyone is, really.
I wonder how people can still be so judgemental, and not allow for the past, or be more understanding of a few social quirks.
Sometimes People just suck.
Did you ask about the black eye?
Oh boy, did he fall down?
I don't know...I'm not tactful sometimes and all I could think about was how crappy it was that things like that happen to anyone.
And undoubtably, according to statistics, (ha) it's going on with some other little kid.
And that does make me cry.
Cause kids are so innocent and they should stay that way for a long time.
And it's just not really fair.
But, I gotta stop now cause it's getting hard to see the keyboard and I need to take a break.
Short story long, I couldn't. I have NO evidence that he even ever hit her and I had no evidence that kid didn't just walk into a doorknob.
Once I got one from my step brother throwing a shoe and hitting me in the eye, but my step brother was evil and that doesn't amount to child abuse.
(I also got a little one when the window fan fell out of the window and hit my in the eyebrow. That hurt.