Did you grow up with an abusive parent?

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coralewisjr

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I realize that this is a very sensitive topic. It’s something that doesn’t seem to be talked about enough.

You’ve probably heard the saying “Sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never hurt me.” For the child of an abusive parent, that is a lie. You’ve probably dealt with bullies in childhood, and there are bullies in adult bodies, too. If you’re willing to talk about your abusive experience, I would be grateful.

Thanks be to God that I didn’t grow up with a sexually abusive father. He was simply a verbal abuser. Once he said “God d*** you” to me. I don’t remember what I did. (I was a teenager, yes, and I rebelled…but I don’t remember doing anything to earn that and it’s a very un-Christian thing to say.) When I came home from World Youth Day 2002, Dad and Grandma (his mom) met me at the airport. I was walking with a cane. (I don’t exercise very much; I like to walk daily but I don’t always do it. I didn’t prepare myself physically for the miles of walking at WYD.) I came home very happy from the week in Toronto. The day after I flew home, it was just Dad and I in the house, as Mom and my younger brothers were on vacation. Those days without the rest of the family were heck. Dad yelled at me for not exercising enough and for depending on strangers to help me walk around (I had to be pushed around in a wheelchair during some of my time in Toronto because I developed a limp and I didn’t buy a cane until the day before we flew home). His words cut me so deeply.

I’m remembering this because I developed a limp tonight after not exercising this week. (The doctor told me yesterday that I can be on my feet so I cleaned a lot today and I haven’t started walking outside yet.) That limp took me back to the time with Dad. Please pray that I can forgive Dad and that he will be a better father to my brothers than he was to me. Please pray that he will be a better husband to Mom than he has been. Let’s also pray for those who are abused and their abusers.

I remember reading “A Child Called It,” Dave Pelzer’s haunting story of childhood abuse at the hands of his mother, while I was in high school. I was grateful that I didn’t have it that bad, while being very hurt as I saw the very small similarities. (Dad doesn’t physically abuse people, thank God.)

DH and I were discussing my 2002 diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I realize now that Dad’s attitude, and the stress of senior year of high school, probably contributed to my “going crazy” that year.

Thanks for hearing me out. I wrote more than I intended. God bless you!

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
 
I grew up with abusive parents. I can’t explain how they were abusive in just one post, because it wasn’t physical or verbal. It was more mental and acting like control freaks. I have to say that what they grew up with was far worse, so I guess that I had it less hard. Let me give you an example. One day my mom came upstairs raging at me to “Pick up all those toys all over the floor down there!!!” I went downstairs and there was one toy. That’s it. I mumbled under my breath “Oh yeah, one toy is really all over the floor” I don’t know how she heard it, but she did and came down and flipped out on me. I don’t remember what she said or did, all I remember is that she was in a rage. My dad was a blamer and literally would have temper tantrums. Also, he would literally harass you until you screamed at him. He’s done this to my son, too. I was telling my son to something a few weeks ago. Well, my dad didn’t know this and started harassing my son about what he was doing. He would not leave the kid alone. I had to tell him 3 times to knock it off that I had told him to do it. He finally stopped with that, but immediately started in on him about something else.

P.S. I refuse to pick up A Child Called It. I don’t think that I could handle reading it. :crying:
 
Thanks for sharing. How do you stay strong when your memories haunt you? How do you forgive your abusers?

Here are some suggestions that I need to work on in my life:
pray a lot for compassion, understanding and the ability to forgive Dad

pray for Dad (and pray for Mom who is married to him); he has a lot of trouble making friends

journal a lot

confide in very good friends

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne

P.S. I loved high school psychology class. I was depressed when I had to read or hear about people who developed severe psychological trauma (multiple personality disorder and others) as a result of childhood abuse but that probably made me stronger. I read at least two of Dave Pelzer’s books. I love learning about human nature…it’s very scary sometimes but it intrigues me.
 
I got it from not one, but two families. Now, years later, I’m not sure what hurts the worse. 1) the memories of it; or, 2) statements like “You’re a man;suck it in” or “That’s all water over the dam.” or people who, no matter how well intentioned, cite bible verses or tell me want a “honor” to suffer with the Lord. Maybe, you’ve had some similar ones said to you.
There’s an old Indian saying; can’t recall it all. It’s something about “walking in the moccasins” of another. For whatever reason, I’ve encountered a number of Christians that just don’t want to do that.
They would rather give me one of their “sermonettes” which have about as much meaning to me as a tank to an ant.
Many times I remember in my prayers those who care, love and nurture their children. I also pray for the abused and those who abuse them.
 
I am 68 yrs old and my stepdad has been dead many years now. Ugly as it seems, I cheered when a heart attack took him at 58 yrs old. My mom never knew, she was ill most of the time.

I was healed of all of this through the Charismatic Renewal in the Catholic Church, back in the 1970s.

Psychology is good, Spiritual healing is even better.
 
Alot of healing prayer. Though I still have a long way to go.
 
I find it helps to realize your parents were/are people who were dealing with problems of their own in the best way they could. They have baggage too. Sometimes you don’t find out what it was until they are gone. Prayer for insight into their behavior helps, most of all pray for compassion.
 
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Mike_Olson:
I find it helps to realize your parents were/are people who were dealing with problems of their own in the best way they could. They have baggage too. Sometimes you don’t find out what it was until they are gone. Prayer for insight into their behavior helps, most of all pray for compassion.
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yeah I’ve struggled to figure out why Dad is the way he is…from what I know, he grew up in a family where my grandparents (Grandma is still alive and Grandpa committed suicide a few years ago) fought a lot and they divorced…that doesn’t excuse Dad’s behavior, as he has free will and his siblings aren’t jerks. I know what you mean though. Dad is grieving for his dad in his own way and he tends to keep things bottled up inside and let them out in anger. I realized tonight that the stress of living with Dad probably led Mom to alcoholism - please pray for them!!

I was so sad at the end of senior year of high school when Dad told me that he had given up on life. I didn’t want him to kill himself like his dad did. I just want Dad to be happy. He’s made me cry before but I love him too much to want him miserable. (though there’s been at least one time when I thought really bad thoughts about him) It’s definitely easier to love Dad now that I’ve moved out and married a wonderful husband. The sad part is that Dad probably blames himself for a few family problems: my depression (or bipolar disorder - only God knows what it is!), a younger brother’s troubles in school, Mom’s issues with Dad and their resulting unhappy marriage, etc.

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
 
My dad was physically, emotionally and verbally abusive with me. We didn’t speak civilly for years. The part that hurt the worst was when I caught him hurting my little brother. I always felt that if he spent his time beating me at least he couldn’t be hurting my younger siblings. The abuse was pretty bad, it ranged from regular beating for some small infraction of rules to telling me I was possesed and he was going to beat it out of me, to dad sticking a knife to my back telling me he wished he could plunge it in to me. One time he even punched me so hard in the mouth that he broke my braces. Another time he broke the rake hitting me with it…I had welts so deep they bled. I think you have the picture, how did I get over it? I forgave him. I went to reconcilliation and I confessed that I was unforgiving and hateful. I prayed alot about it, I asked God to help me to understand and forgive my dad. The answer I got through my prayer was to keep forgiving and to tell him I love him. Next time I went home on vacation (I was in the Air Force at the time) I made up my mind that I didn’t care what it took, I was going to tell my dad I love him. When I got home, it occured to me that I didn’t know how to tell dad that. My family never spoke of love or feelings. I ran up to my dad and hugged him and said, “I love you daddy.” Just like I was a little girl…and for that moment I was that little girl that needed her daddy. It was wonderful!!! I thanked God that night that I was actually able to get the words out. 2 months later my dad died suddenly. I dropped to me knees and thanked God that I was able to forgive him and tell him I loved him before he died. The point is, you will never get better until you forgive your abuser. It is not hurting them that you harbor ill feelings, but it will hurt you. It will keep you from healing the wound. Forgiveness is for you more than it is for the abuser, trust me, I have been there!!!
 
My early childhood was very good. It was after my sister got sick with cancer when I was 11 that things started to fall apart. Whenever my sister (who was 19 when she as 1st diagnosed) was in the hospital my mom stayed with her, so it was my dad and me by ourselves alot. I was always close with my dad so that was cool. When my sister diagnosed terminal she lived out the last 6 months of her life in the hospital and my mom stayed with her, except for the occasional weekend. By this time I was 13. After my sister passed away my mom completely lost her mind. She really should have been hospitalized for psychiatric treatment because it was bad.

My mom plastered our house with pictures of my sister, any frame on the wall, whatever picture was originally in it, now had my sister’s picture in it. She carried pictures in her purse and if we would go out to eat she would set them on the table and talk to the pictures as if my sister was there.

She refused to accept up until my sister’s last day on earth that she was going to die. And after she did die she blamed my father, she said he “killed my sister.” My sister had been through several experimental treatments at different hospitals out of state. She finally said she didn’t want to go anymore so my dad said ok. My mom until this day doesn’t remember it that way. She says my dad didn’t want to go so even though my sister did want to she agreed not to -hence my father “killed my sister.”

My mother would scream and cry until the early morning. I’d go to school sometimes with hardly any sleep. At first she would say I was both me and my sister now, that I was both of us. She wanted me to take up all my sister’s interests. When I wouldn’t and said I was just me and no one else, she turned her rage on me. It lasted until I moved out after I got married at 18.

Everything my sister did was perfect and everything I did was wrong. It was never ending attacks -your sister would never do that, you sister always did this. You are the black sheep of the family. You are the betrayer of the family (because I refused to hide from my friends what was going on.)

The turning point was when I was 14 I believe (maybe 13) my parents were having this huge fight. My dad was going to leave the house for a while and take me with him (when I got older he stopped taking me with him). My mom told my dad he need to take some drapes to the cleaners and he refused and walked out, so she handed them to me and told me we had to take them. I said I’m not getting between you and daddy and she started screaming at me how my sister was always on her side, I was never on her side and she wished my sister would have lived instead of me. I felt like I had been kicked in the chest. I ran outside, I remember crying so had I couldn’t catch my breath. Nothing was the same after that.

(Cont next post)
 
My dad got a phone call once that I had answered. My mom asked who was on the phone and I said I didn’t know. She took the handset of the phone and hit me in the head with it (with the guy still on the line) and she called me liar and said I was covering up for my dad.

She told me lots of kids runaway why don’t you. She would scream and scream and scream for hours, get inches from my face and just scream about what a horrible daughter I was. How I was never there for her when she needed me. She often screamed until I started crying. That seem to satisfy her when she got me to cry. No matter how well I tried to do my chores like cleaning the bathroom, or polishing or vacuuming it was never right, never good enough. After a while I just gave up trying.

I had 2 very good friends that were my only support during this time, and they are still my dearest friends to this day. When I met my husband in high school, he was my rescuer. I’d be on the phone with him and my mom would come in my room and start screaming and he make fun of her and crack jokes and make me laugh. He’d come and get me when my dad took off without me while my mom was flipping (I didn’t have my own car.) He had a lot of pain from his own childhood. We were there for each other. It was us against the world - we had each other and that’s all that mattered.

My music was my other refuge. The louder, the harder, the better. I could blast it and drowned out the screaming and feel all my rage just pour into the music. The words of the songs meant there was someone else out there that knew my feelings. Songs like 'If you Don’t Like It" by Cinderella, “Harvester of Sorrow” and “Dyer’s Eve” by Metallica - I could relate, listening to them was a release for me -of all the anger and rage inside pouring out.

All my good memories from the time my sister died all through high school are ones that I shared with my friends or my husband - none are with my family.

Fast forward from 13 to 33. My mom is much more stable but she has episodes from time to time. My dad bought a second house, which he goes to at least a few days out of the week to get some space. She is wonderful with my daughter -thank God. It’s been rare that she really flipped out with my daughter around and then we take off immediately.

My experience had made me a very strong person. I’m definitely a fighter when it comes to what’s important to me. I also refused to let my mother’s cruel words define who I am. I’m not the daughter she wanted me to be, but I am the person that I want to be, and that God made me to be.
 
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BlestOne:
My dad was physically, emotionally and verbally abusive with me. We didn’t speak civilly for years. The part that hurt the worst was when I caught him hurting my little brother. I always felt that if he spent his time beating me at least he couldn’t be hurting my younger siblings. The abuse was pretty bad, it ranged from regular beating for some small infraction of rules to telling me I was possesed and he was going to beat it out of me, to dad sticking a knife to my back telling me he wished he could plunge it in to me. One time he even punched me so hard in the mouth that he broke my braces. Another time he broke the rake hitting me with it…I had welts so deep they bled. I think you have the picture, how did I get over it? I forgave him. I went to reconcilliation and I confessed that I was unforgiving and hateful. I prayed alot about it, I asked God to help me to understand and forgive my dad. The answer I got through my prayer was to keep forgiving and to tell him I love him. Next time I went home on vacation (I was in the Air Force at the time) I made up my mind that I didn’t care what it took, I was going to tell my dad I love him. When I got home, it occured to me that I didn’t know how to tell dad that. My family never spoke of love or feelings. I ran up to my dad and hugged him and said, “I love you daddy.” Just like I was a little girl…and for that moment I was that little girl that needed her daddy. It was wonderful!!! I thanked God that night that I was actually able to get the words out. 2 months later my dad died suddenly. I dropped to me knees and thanked God that I was able to forgive him and tell him I loved him before he died. The point is, you will never get better until you forgive your abuser. It is not hurting them that you harbor ill feelings, but it will hurt you. It will keep you from healing the wound. Forgiveness is for you more than it is for the abuser, trust me, I have been there!!!
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Wow.
When you talked about wanting to protect your younger siblings, it reminded me of the time a younger brother was doing poorly in school (acting up and getting bad grades) and Dad was yelling at him. I yelled at Dad, telling him to leave my brother alone. I don’t remember if he yelled back at me or not…he probably told me to stay out of it.
I know exactly what you mean by that last sentence. Last night DH said that you can only forgive someone if they apologize. We know how untrue that is!!

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
 
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rayne89:
My experience had made me a very strong person. I’m definitely a fighter when it comes to what’s important to me. I also refused to let my mother’s cruel words define who I am. I’m not the daughter she wanted me to be, but I am the person that I want to be, and that God made me to be.
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Dang woman, you have been through a lot!! Good for you for being your own person and refusing to listen to your mother. I hope that she can spend some time in a mental hospital one of these days. I’m not being spiteful; I was in one for part of four days and it helped me.

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
 
My father was mostly verbally and emotionally abusive, though he did throw things, threaten me and my mom, and hit me in the face on a couple of occasions. Almost every day it seemed like he would fly into a rage over some triviality, screaming and swearing and calling us horrible names. He’s a big guy - 6’7" and 240lbs - and I was terrified of him. He used to scream at me, chase me & spank me and call me worthless because of things I had nothing to do with, like his computer not working. When I was 14, he flew into a rage because I ate the spaghetti he was planning on eating and barricaded me in my room for several hours, sitting by the door telling me I was garbage and threatening to break my stuff or kill me. I remember him hitting my mom and calling her a fat cow when she complained about his infidelity. I think I must have wanted to “make him be nice”, and tried to be a good girl, hoping I could fix things if I tried hard enough. I ended up marrying a man very similar to my dad, except he didn’t cheat. We’re separated now. I think I was looking for someone who was like my dad so I could “fix” him and symbolically “fix” my dad, fix my childhood. My husband has the same tendancy to fly into screaming rages for no apparent reason, slap me in the face and threaten me. I thank God that I finally realised I didn’t have the power to change him, and that he was just too dangerous to me and our daughters to go on living with him.
He’s trying to get custody of our daughters - ages 10 months, 3 and 5 - by claiming I’m unfit and insane. He’s told the police a pack of lies about me. Please, if you have the time, say a prayer for me and my girls.
 
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BlindSheep:
My father was mostly verbally and emotionally abusive, though he did throw things, threaten me and my mom, and hit me in the face on a couple of occasions. Almost every day it seemed like he would fly into a rage over some triviality, screaming and swearing and calling us horrible names. He’s a big guy - 6’7" and 240lbs - and I was terrified of him. He used to scream at me, chase me & spank me and call me worthless because of things I had nothing to do with, like his computer not working. When I was 14, he flew into a rage because I ate the spaghetti he was planning on eating and barricaded me in my room for several hours, sitting by the door telling me I was garbage and threatening to break my stuff or kill me. I remember him hitting my mom and calling her a fat cow when she complained about his infidelity. I think I must have wanted to “make him be nice”, and tried to be a good girl, hoping I could fix things if I tried hard enough. I ended up marrying a man very similar to my dad, except he didn’t cheat. We’re separated now. I think I was looking for someone who was like my dad so I could “fix” him and symbolically “fix” my dad, fix my childhood. My husband has the same tendancy to fly into screaming rages for no apparent reason, slap me in the face and threaten me. I thank God that I finally realised I didn’t have the power to change him, and that he was just too dangerous to me and our daughters to go on living with him.
He’s trying to get custody of our daughters - ages 10 months, 3 and 5 - by claiming I’m unfit and insane. He’s told the police a pack of lies about me. Please, if you have the time, say a prayer for me and my girls.
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I hope that you can get a restraining order!! Do you have supportive family & friends nearby to help you when he threatens you & your children?

Great news! I just wrote Dad a letter forgiving him for sharing his depression with me and thanking him for a lot of things that he’s done for me. After I put it in the mailbox, I felt such relief and joy! I hope that it helps him and that if he cries, they’re tears of joy.

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
 
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coralewisjr:
I hope that you can get a restraining order!! She did get the restraining order. She posted it on the family section of CAF. Please pray for her! Do you have supportive family & friends nearby to help you when he threatens you & your children?

Great news! I just wrote Dad a letter forgiving him for sharing his depression with me and thanking him for a lot of things that he’s done for me. After I put it in the mailbox, I felt such relief and joy! I hope that it helps him and that if he cries, they’re tears of joy.

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne
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I must also thank God that I was not ever sexually abused.

While I wouldn’t say my parents abused me, my therapist once said that to me and I felt shocked at it.

The way I was raised is that if I did something bad, I was smacked and it didn’t matter where, the rear, the head, back ect. My “mom” (I will hereto put her title in quotes because she had had a couple affairs and I don’t see her as a mother anymore, I know this is wrong.) would use phrases like “A child should be seen and not heard” and “You are the child I am the parent”.

My Dad was more physically violent, he even called me the “b” word once when I told him I was getting changed and I couldn’t talk to him at that moment. If I spilled something on the floor (by accident) he would hit me and curse and yell. Money was the most important thing to him and when my parents were getting a divorce he once responded to my Grandparents query about him asking for his kids custody, “I don’t care about the kids”. He said this right in front of me.

Just yesterday my Dad had a fight with my Grandmother and he said, “I’m going to burst one of these days, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m getting close”. Well thanks Dad, I love you too, it’s nice to know I could be living with a future murderer.

At any rate, I’ve been trying my whole life to make enough money to leave. It’s been hard because in 2001-2002 i was diagnosed with panic disorder and was laid off from my job. Since then I’ve tried to find work and now thanks to a user on this board I am thinking about becoming a Medical Transcriptionist. I just need to get a small job so I can get enough money to save for training and new clothing for Church.

Anyways, thanks for making this topic. It allowed for me to vent. Phew
 
I too am a victim of a man who tried to dominate the world by abusing his wife and children. Alcohol was a large factor. He used to beat my mom and older sisters, while we younger ones hid in the closets down stairs, fearing for our lives and our mom and siblings. We were so frightened of him that if we heard him put one foot on the top step, coming down toward our domain, we would scatter and hide in our rooms.

Finally my mom told him she would leave and take all seven kids with her, if he didn’t stop. He stopped the physical abuse, but the demeaning, mental and alcohol abuse continued for a long time.

Years later, when I had my daughter, my mom told him what his children thought of him. He came to my home, crying and asking forgiveness. He hadn’t remembered any of the abuse. Thank you Jesus for rescuing us and restoring our father to us.

He is so humble now and lives each day trying to help my mom. He took up carpentry and builds things for all his children.

I pray time and, efforts at self help, will help you understand your dignity, as a human being, and how much our Father, in heaven loves and appreciates you. He is there for you. In hard times I hope you will remember to go to Him and find shelter under His wing.

You are in my heart and tears stream from my face for all who suffer at the hands of those who should be governing well, instead of dominating. John Paul II please pray for all fathers, husbands and sons, that they be good sheppards on earth, as our Father in heaven wills.

Peace to you,
Elizabeth
 
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Shinobu:
I must also thank God that I was not ever sexually abused.

While I wouldn’t say my parents abused me, my therapist once said that to me and I felt shocked at it.

The way I was raised is that if I did something bad, I was smacked and it didn’t matter where, the rear, the head, back ect. My “mom” (I will hereto put her title in quotes because she had had a couple affairs and I don’t see her as a mother anymore, I know this is wrong.) would use phrases like “A child should be seen and not heard” and “You are the child I am the parent”.

My Dad was more physically violent, he even called me the “b” word once when I told him I was getting changed and I couldn’t talk to him at that moment. If I spilled something on the floor (by accident) he would hit me and curse and yell. Money was the most important thing to him and when my parents were getting a divorce he once responded to my Grandparents query about him asking for his kids custody, “I don’t care about the kids”. He said this right in front of me.

Just yesterday my Dad had a fight with my Grandmother and he said, “I’m going to burst one of these days, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m getting close”. Well thanks Dad, I love you too, it’s nice to know I could be living with a future murderer.

At any rate, I’ve been trying my whole life to make enough money to leave. It’s been hard because in 2001-2002 i was diagnosed with panic disorder and was laid off from my job. Since then I’ve tried to find work and now thanks to a user on this board I am thinking about becoming a Medical Transcriptionist. I just need to get a small job so I can get enough money to save for training and new clothing for Church.

Anyways, thanks for making this topic. It allowed for me to vent. Phew
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Your therapist was right.
 
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