It was as if there was a standard, an impossible standard upon your head and you could NEVER come close to it. You were beat down to nothing. He would say awful things and set you up to fail so he could laugh at you for being so stupid. It was a game to him. And if you dared to stand up to him, he would beat you. You had no value or purpose but to entertain and muse him.
I still can not think of this without wishing that I had some power to have known; to have done something; to have known that he is really the small, the inadequate, the weak and nothing of a man. My mother continued to live with and subject my brothers and sisters to this man after her abandonment of me.
This man; an evil that lives in my mind, day and night. The most difficult part of the entire tragedy is knowing that they had to continue to live with him after she left me. My brothers, my sisters, had to be subjected to him; even years after I had the courage to tell. They didn't escape.
Being abandoned was what saved me. They didn't escape, and it pains me to this day.
My older sister left home to serve a mission for our church. She finally was able to escape her own nightmare, only to find that it will continue for her entire life in living color every time she closes her eyes.
The nightmare we live with. Every time we close our eyes.
Every time someone stands behind me; I feel the threat of being beaten for doing something wrong. I know I haven't done anything, but I never feel safe.
I didn't do anything wrong as a child and I was beaten or threatened.
When I see a father and a daughter, or any may who finds a child charming; I wonder.
This trauma causes you to accuse in your mind. You can not understand just love and concern. It is a nightmare never ending. No it is a night terror, with eyes wide awake.
While my sister was serving her mission, she was able to finally speak out and tell someone of the years of abuse. She had always supported our mother, in moving, in living with him again, in her own pain she had not been able to escape.
She stayed. I am sure that is the haunting part of her nightmare; that she stayed.
I hated her for a long time. Martin Luther taught his son that hate destroys you. That you should never get so low as to hate. But I hated.
My anger, intense pain; hurt; and it felt like hate.
I never want to feel that again.