Anonymous
I am writing anonymously because I still have shame around all this. But even that is a stage of my recovery and this website is SO AWESOME that I want to contribute in the way that I can. Thank you for reading, thank you for listening, thank you for caring.
I remember clearly being 8-years-old and my father offering to play soccer with us. I shunned him, pushed him away with nasty cutting words, then felt guilty about being ‘a heartless monster’ for the next 25 years. Even at the time I was puzzled by my reaction. He looked sad as he walked away. I felt awful. You’ve guessed it, I was feeling responsible for him already. And I had a very good reason to refuse to interact with him even if I was not consciously aware of it at the time: he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from his own ultra-violent childhood and from the war he was in. So he was prone to sudden, inexplicable and unavoidable bursts of anger and verbal and physical violence.
Three years later he violently beat my 8-year-old brother on Sunday for refusing to attend church. My mother looked petrified and sent me in to stop my dad from killing my brother. I couldn’t understand why she asked ME to go in but I didn’t want to contradict her as she slapped and spanked us all daily. I did stop my dad. My brother never recovered. He became depressed, stop growing physically. As an adult he was smaller than he should have been. In his forties he became suicidal: the shame was catching up with him.
But no one was ever able to really scare me after that. I realize now that I made a decision that day, at age 11: I would live regardless, whatever the price. I understood it was my choice to stop the abuse. But the shame didn’t stop. I still live with the shame now. It’s hard to meet new people. I overreact to a face without expression, a cold tone of voice or prolonged silence, because my body remembers when those were warning signs of imminent violence. I prefer silence in the house because deep down my body knows it means no one is around to abuse me. And at the same time I crave contact and warm, safe companionship. I am nearly 50 and I still don’t know how to create that in my life. That is the truly tragic legacy of my violent childhood: shame that creates excrutiating loneliness.
My mother admitted about 5 years ago, more than 5 years after leaving my father, that he was violent with her also. We suspected all along. Her own father had suffered from PTSD from another war. If only she had been open with us about it sooner, in our twenties, maybe we could have healed better? But she was still scared then.
This may not seem very polished to you as a story. I could tell you how my brother attacked me and tried to kill me when I was in my 30s, how he tried to stab my sister when they were teenagers, how my uncle assaulted my father in front of all the kids. And there is more, so much more. But what is the point of recounting all the details? I am tired of them. Right now I just want to heal the shame and to learn how to be with people so I can stop being lonely.
My success is that even though both my marriages failed, both my exes are very gentle men and my children know they are loved and safe. They are confident and relaxed. I may not have much of a life for myself yet but I achieved what I set out to do at 11: I STOPPED THE ABUSE IN MY FAMILY!
27 Responses to “Anonymous”
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Stopping the abuse cycle is AWESOME, you should be very proud. Your words really hit home for me..the shame, the wretched, acidic shame, it often seems relentless. But as you said, it is up to us to stop the abuse cycle. I talk to my fiancee about this every few days..we don’t have kids yet but someday we will. And they will not be afraid of us, they will know we love them. That’s one of the most important things in my life. We MUST stop these generations of abuse, it is our responsibility to protect our children, to question the way we were raised and to do it differently if need be. Don’t feel guilty about turning your dad away..my dad is much like yours and he is very “hurt” that I’ve limited our relationship…but he is the one who has refused to make healthy choices about how he treats his family. Thank you for sharing your story. ~Susan
Who needs polish? I felt every word of this. Hope you find a way to heal and find a way out of your lonliness. You deserve that. We all do.
“I STOPPED THE ABUSE IN MY FAMILY!” Awesome words from a strong person who endured the overcame.
Thank you for sharing!
-Chris
Kudos for standing up, at age 11 and every age in between. Your strength shines through these words.
I feel obligated to point out, though, that there is no causal link between PTSD and domestic violence. In your case, PTSD might very well have been a contributing factor or a trigger, I don’t argue that, and it might certainly be a factor in other instances of domestic violence. But not everyone who suffers from PTSD is abusive towards themselves or their families or others. I think it’s important to make that clear.
Thank you for sharing.
Quiet heroism rings out, strong and true, and yours resounds in the happy lives and the comfortable ease of your children. And I hope that the ease is yours, as well, very soon.
Brava.
Thank you for sharing – your story, your courage and yourself. You are amazing!
You are very brave for coming forward and sharing your story. There are no rules, it doesn’t have to be “polished”. Having the courage to speak out is something you should be very proud of. Be thankful that the cycle of abuse has stopped. Your children will never have to experience what you went through. Honey, 50 is young! You have plenty of life yet to live. I hope you continue on your path to healing.
So glad to you hear stopped the trend…
Thank you for sharing your story. It was very powerful. The internet is a beautiful place to meet people and be less lonely. I’d feel terrible if it wasn’t for my friends on Twitter. It’s different there. You can be who you really are, or who you want to be.
{{hugs}}
Maybe you don’t need me to point this out. Or maybe there’s something not in your story that’s at the root of it. Or maybe somebody else pointing it out is exactly what’s called for here. Whatever the “maybes” are, I feel compelled to (re)state the “definitely” obvious. There isn’t any cause for you to feel ashamed. I wish I knew where that comes from, because it’s such a common theme in these stories. No 11-year-old kid should be given the job of referee. No way is that in the job description. And at some level, you must know this. The logic in it is inescapable. Children do not raise their parents. It doesn’t work that way, it’s not the Order of Things.
And yet, somehow the children put in that position feel as if they failed. But if they did it’s because they were set up to fail. By being put in a job they were in no way equipped for and should not have been given in the first place.
So let me spell it out for you in the simplest, most unambiguous terms I can.
You did not fail.
You are not to blame.
And you have overcome.
And there is absolutely no shame in that. No guilt, no culpability, no requirement of contrition, no need for absolution.
If anything the diametric opposite is true. Those who hurt you, who placed you in an untenable situation, should be seeking absolution from you. Whether they do or not, it would do you good to grant it… even if it’s only in your own heart. And while you’re doing that, perhaps you’ll forgive yourself for whatever transgressions you feel you’ve committed.
It’s good and admirable to own the responsibility for whatever you may have done. But at best it serves no purpose for you to carry the guilt of others as your own. And at worst it damages you in ways you may not even recognize.
You’ve raised your children gently, broken the cycle of violence that’s gone before for generations. Now, can you show a little of that gentleness to yourself? I hope so. Because that makes “alone” a different thing from “lonely”. (Just trust me on this one okay?)
Thank you for bringing your story here, for showing the world that the cycle doesn’t have to continue. Thank you for telling it, but most of all thank you for having it to tell. Thank you for chipping away another piece of the problem and stopping the violence in one small part of the big reality. Because that is the only way the bigger problem can be defeated. One family, one survivor at a time.
I hope this has been helpful for you. I hope you’ll realize that all the people who comment here are telling you the same thing you’ve been trying to tell yourself. Most of all I hope you find the peace and the love in your life that you desire.
You’re awesome. There’s is no shame in how you’ve lived. There’s much to be proud of.
I was the “referee” for many years between my parents, starting at a very young age. I know the guilt you can feel because of it. You did not fail and you definitely have no shame to bear!
In fact, you should be pretty proud of yourself about now. You have stepped up and spoken out. You have officially said “no more.” By doing so, I hope you are continuing to free yourself of the emotional burdens that seem to still weigh you down. (A few years ago, I took myself down “memory lane” and as painful as it was, the crap I’ve been able to shed since has been amazing.) It’s not easy but you are doing it. Keep doing it. The worst thing that happens to any survivor is to continue to pay a penalty throughout your life for a crime that was never even yours.
Only you know what can make you comfortable but sometimes, to get what we want, you have to go outside that comfort zone. I hope you will do that. And I hope you can find the peace and happiness that have wrongfully been denied you.
So, so proud.
Thank you for having the courage to survive and to share your story.
Bravo for breaking the cycle
Stopping the cycle is the hardest and bravest thing you can do. There is no shame in anything that happened. Somethings were beyond your control. You are a wonderful person and I hope for you to find peace.
Good for you! It is finished.
That is HUGE. let your shame fall away…you are amazing.
You did what you needed to do for your children – obviously. I’m proud of you. Be proud of yourself too honey. It’s not an easy thing that you did.
There is no shame in stopping the cycle of abuse.
You are strong and courageous.
Thank you for sharing your story.
The truth of what you write is more important than if you see it as polished or not.
The shame is the thing that keeps people from moving forward, you have done so well for yourself, for your children, you have stopped the cycle. When you are ready, begin to let go of the shame a little at a time so you can begin to become a whole person again, willing to be open and embrace others and willing to let go of the lonliness and risk letting others in.
You have my admiration for doing something many cannot do, myself included… kudos to you.
I am so proud of you for breaking the chain of violence and shedding your shell of shame.
I don’t know if something like “congratulations” is appropriate, but that what I think. I want to congratulate you for stopping the cycle, and for being proud of that. I know feelings aren’t something we can rationalize away, but I hope that pride in doing what you set out to do can counter the shame that you feel is holding you back. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and everything to be proud of.
You broke that cycle, you have made a deep and lasting mark not just on your family now but on generations to come. I am so sorry for what you had to overcome but I’m glad that you did.
You are a remarkable woman. You survived! When words are as heartfelt as these, no polish is necessary.
Good for you! Thanks for sharing your story – polished or not, it doesn’t matter. Speaking out is certainly a way of moving forward.
Thank you so much to all who posted a supportive comment! I feel your love and I hear what you are saying: there is no need for shame.
I agree that not all who suffer from PTSD are violent. I think in the men in my family it was a strong contributing factor & it’s what made them unable to heal without professional therapy even when they realized how much they hurt those they loved.
I wrote my story in the spring and it was published in September.
All along I was working on all these issues. The shame evaporated. I learned to be gentle to myself. I started demanding respect from all walks of my life. I opened up to love again.
Telling my story publicly, even if it was anomynously, helped tremendously. It made me stronger.
Thank you all for reading, for listening, for caring, for carrying me into health! I love you for real!