Ok, I feel like getting a little personal. You should probably just stop reading now.
Sometimes I feel like I've had a tough life, and sometimes I feel like I've had a fulfilling one. I'm not depressed, but if I were, I think it would be with good reason. Everyone has their struggles, and everyone has a different way of dealing with them I guess. I'm not really sure how I should feel... but I generally feel like I'm happy. But sometimes it's hard for me to help others with their problems because their problems seem so miniscule to me. I don't get it at all.
Basically, I had a normal childhood. I lived in the suburbs and I was an only child and both of my parents worked and blah blah blah. I was spoiled, to be honest. I dealt with some abuse, but I'm not sure how bad it is compared to other people. I mean, yes, most kids get the occasional spankings or whatever. I definitely got my share of those. I was a devious kid. There were only a few times throughout my life when I would consider the abuse really terrible. I remember all of them vividly... the earliest I remember is first grade and the most recent is sixth grade. I was probably five or six the first time it got really bad. I missed the bus one morning for whatever reason... and my dad got off work early and had to take me to school. He was furious... he wanted to relax and enjoy the rest of his day off. And he warned me not to miss the bus. So... he couldn't control his temper. He started whipping me or whatever... and then he threw the kitchen chairs and barstools at me. I was bruised everywhere, the bruises didn't go away for like a month. I was cowering in the corner crying, but my mom couldn't do anything. I was glad she didn't step in or else he would've done something to her, too. And I hated when I had to see that. Anyway, I had to go to school after that, and I walked in crying but my dad said I couldn't tell anyone or I would get taken away. The greeter asked me if I was okay, and I said yeah. I don't think anyone else noticed. After that I tried to stay out of trouble, but if I did something wrong, I knew what was coming. Once I got caught eating before dinner... that was one of the worst ones.
Worse than dealing with the beatings was watching my mom go through it. I couldn't watch. Once it was my fault. Some money I had saved in a piggy bank was missing, so I told my parents. My dad dragged my mom into their room by her ear and locked the door. I was pounding on the door and begging him not to hurt her. They came out an hour later and I was still crying. And my dad was still dragging my mom by her ear... and he pointed at me and told my mom, "Do you see what you're doing? You're tearing the family apart!" If I hadn't said anything about the money it would have never happened. I would try and stop him... but I couldn't. My mom just didn't fight back... she just dealt with it. She didn't even cry. How can you do that to someone who just doesn't even try to defend herself? I can only imagine how much abuse she suffered through as long as she was with my dad.
But how can I blame my dad? I mean, as terrible as this all sounds, it's really not his fault. He was abused as a kid, and SO much worse. He would get tied to a tree upside down by one leg after being beaten senseless. Aggression is all he knew.
If I have kids, what if I do the same to them? I can't take that risk. I know I'm always preaching nonviolence... but how can I say for sure that I won't do the same to my kids? I can't, no matter what I think. There's so much more to tell, but I don't feel like putting on more of a pity party than I already have. I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I've been dealt this hand in life for a reason, and I'm going to use this emotional strength to my advantage. I just don't know how to get others to realize that it could be so much worse...