"...It happened again today. I was beat for no reason. My mom tackled me, pinned my arms down with her knees, then began to strike me in my face and chest. Why? What did I ever do to her? Why has God cursed me to be in a life like this? But it never stopped there. Too many times my mom, step-dad(s), and siblings hurt me. I was pummeled by hits, had been cut, and even bruised to the point where my body was bloody and numb. Sadly, after all this time, my heart still hurts the worst. I loved them and they never saw it. Blindly they would strike out against me. I would find myself laying in a heap, in the floor, my spirit broken, my soul defeated, wishing I would die so it would never happen again.
Please, why can't you hear my cries?
Please, why can't you see my tears?
Please, why can't you love me as much as I love you?"
This is a true story. It is my story. Those are my words and forever are the images burned into my mind of the abuse my family and I suffered for nearly sixteen years.
The reason I decided to write about this in my blog is because I haven't been able to sleep, eat, or function correctly for the last three weeks. Every night when I go to bed I am tormented by nightmares, in which, I relive years of abuse. Some nights are even worse, not only do I relive them, but then I find myself fighting back. That scares me the most, as I used to be violent. Still today I have some tendencies to be "overly physical" showing affection, acceptance, and caringness. I wish I could write that I never completed the cycle, that I never abused someone...that I was better than that. But that would be a lie. I was horrible. I failed. I went to a dark, deep place filled with hatred, anger, and spite. I hated God, the world, everyone, especially people that were happy. That made me sick! Why couldn't I be happy? Why couldn't I have a "normal" life like others? In retrospect, and in reading previous blogs, I wouldn't have as much acceptance for the world, and love in others, if I hadn't endured my pain. Life is a two way street, filled with balance. Like "The Force", there is both a light and dark side and they must coexist. So if that was the dark side, then I must now be living in the light.
I think I am going to write a letter to my mother and hopefully it will do more than just close this blog...it will help heal the wounds festering within...
Dear Mom,I am sorry life didn't work out how you had planned. I am sorry that in your childhood you hurt as much as I did. Even though we rarely speak, know that I love you. Maybe one day my wounds and your guilt will be overcome and we can have some kind of "normal" relationship. Just know that no matter what, my daughter, will never have to live like that. She will never know the fear of the next attack. Or the pain of being broken and defeated. I promise on my life, she will never know the resounding pain of child abuse. She is loved by so many and knowing she is happy makes my weight easier to carry. For so long I have been crushed by that weight and have encountered every kind of abuse in my trek throughout life, but it never has defined me, only my love has. My eternal and internal strength carry me above and beyond all the hate and violence. In the end, I know I will be all right. I hope you can find that same peace.Love,Your Son.
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