Child Abuse: From the Eyes of a Survivor

 Child Abuse: From the Eyes of a Survivor

 

Since I was once a child, and am now a parent; I decided to to write something from personal experience: Child Abuse. 

 

However, that is not the only reason I have chosen this as my subject matter. 

 

The other reason is because I am a child abuse survivor. 

 

And before I even start, and before you even judge-allow me to say this: Child abuse IS a chain and a cycle. My mother was abused, as was her Mother, and so on it goes down the line. I have made it my goal in life, to make the buck stop with me. I've chosen and worked on this task alone and with the help of my husband. No guidance, no counseling, just the love and understanding of one's spouse who knew exactly what I went through in my life. 

 

My personal experiences with swats, belts, shoes, hot wheels racetracks and other weapons have made me very much on guard and in fear. They still haunt me to this day! I was so paranoid, that when I wed my husband at the young age of eighteen; when he would pull off his belt by the buckle and yank it through his pants; it would cause me to scream and cry. It wasn't long before my husband learned to leave the belt in his pants when he undressed.

Now mind you, I have no problem smacking the hand of a toddler and saying "No." It's when they get older and need their butts beat, that I encountered problems. For starters, I swing the belt, only to hit myself in the back. Not good. When nosey neighbors and family report you to the Child Welfare Agencies, you tell the agency you were abused and the caseworkers respond with, "Aaahhh......I get it." Immediate assumptions are made, and I'm labeled.

As the kids grow older more bad things are done that require punishments. I did the stand in the corner thing, the bar of soap for lying and cussing, grounding, time out, and removal of toys. But the only thing that ever accomplishes anything, I'm sorry to admit, is a swat. And I did a lousy job at giving them, and my kids made fun of me. I was told, "It felt like a cotton ball." That's fine, we'll wait until Daddy gets home. (Not too fair, it puts it off until he gets home and makes him the bad guy).

Anyway, Daddy takes off his belt, I cringe and he swats. By Jove, they feel his swats! They scream and tell us that they hate us. Mind you, only one swat, no over kill like I received. But none the less, my husband finds me in the bathroom crying. I can't take it. I physically see my siblings and I. And you would think after years of retraining and physically not seeing my siblings and I getting abused, that it would get easier. That I would adjust. But it just wasn't and isn't that easy.

 Eventually, as parents the kids get older, and fortunately for everyone involved- there are no needs for swats- not that they even ever received as many as you might even be thinking. My kids swats were far and few between, and they will tell you that! And again, only one to two! And yes, I am of course defending myself, because there are people out ther in this World who believe they should spare the rod!

And to top it off, the Child Welfare agencies do not make it an easier. The nosey neighbors, the School that tries to protect, the friends of the family, and most of all the family- always assume the worst, rather then ask how they can help. And then of course you have the School enforcing and instructing the Children "Mommy and Daddy can't beat you. If they do, you call this number." A child of most ages doesn't realize the word beat has many meanings and can be taken many different ways. Child Services doesn't say beat as in "bloody to a pulp." And the School doesn't say, beat as in "to death." They just say beat, and of course abuse.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not saying that there isn't a need for this agency, and I'm not saying that there aren't child abusers. Because I know darn good and well that there are. And the sad part is there are so many complaints, that the agencies cannot handle them all accordingly. Mind you, if Child Services could have a more reasonable way to deter the prank and bogus calls, I think it could get somewhere. A friend of mine, and myself came up with the following plan:

If you call in a complaint to the Child Welfare Agencies, and it is found out to be bogus, after the second or third call, your name and info, ALL of it, is given directly to the person that you made the call about. There will be no need to go through an Attorney or any legal maneuver to find out who did it. This way, the accused can approach the accuser, and ask why. I feel, yes, for some this could be a bad idea. I know there are people who think violence is the answer to everything. But for those of us who managed to irritate or offend our in-laws to have them call out of anger, to make your life miserable, then this would and could put a stop to it. Or at the very least, slow it down. It would also allow Child Services to focus on the real problems, rather than waste their time on the phony calls. While they are wasting their time on the bogus calls they received, someone could die. But like I said, this was something my friend and I thought up on our own. Yes, I know this is the real world, and nothing like this will ever happen. But it was a clever idea, now wasn't it?!

One thing that I insist with Child Welfare agencies, is that the caseworker should have children of their own, should have siblings and have studied Criminal Justice. This allows the caseworker to be familiar with sibling rivalry, parenting, and of course crime and criminals. This would also help in the inspection process when reports are made, rather they are fact or fiction, this would seemingly help a great deal.

So lets get point blank and personal-you want to know how I was abused? I have been asked this a number of times, to which I do have siblings witnesses, although the swat total, is different between the four of us....

I once had a very bad report card. I was told that I would get a certain figure of swats per "F." Prior to this incident, I had had surgery on my deviated septum, and was out of School for a period of time. My Parents didn't go to the School and pick up my make up home work. Therefore I had a bad report card, because the time frame didn't allow me time to get in my work, I was "supposed" to be doing it, while out of School, and at home. I brought home a straight "F" report card, even in Band and Art! I counted twenty four swats. Yes 24 was what you read. One of my siblings says 22, the other says 28. I do know that my butt, I am not kidding- did bleed. And my parents, oh I loved this: "This hurts me, more than it hurts you!"

When I went back to School the next day, my gym teacher asked if I would be dressing for gym class. I told her no. She wanted to know why. I SHOWED her why. My gym teacher reported my parents, my counselor reported my parents. Child Welfare agency investigated, and the case was closed, because I got what I was promised, and what I had ...um...allegedly asked for! This is one of y worst experiences, and trust me there are others.

My worst mental anguish came from my father, always hearing this all of my life: "I chose your Mother, not you." Those words have never ever left my head, and haunt me to this day. I have never said it to my Children, and neither has my husband. WE wanted our Children. WE chose to have them, each and every one of them! Children do not chose to be brought into this World! This is why I always say, watch what you say.

And I'd like to close with an eye opening poem that was emailed to me. The author of the poem, is given credit, as the author desired. That is all I have on the writer of this poem. But trust me, it will put a smile on your face!

I close with: Love your Children. You brought them into this World. YOU should love, adore them, nuture them, and be thankful that God has given you this blessing!