I feel it is only normal to be fuming, angry, seething, and seeing red when you see a child being severely beaten or have been that child yourself.
For people that have never experienced abuse or think that we are talking about spanking a child, you cannot possibly understand what we are saying. Let me give you an example of real abuse-
I was locked in a closet in the heat of the summer for a half a day. I had to go to the bathroom and asked to come out. My mom opened the door and began to hit me with my dad's belt. After 20 times I stopped counting. She shut the door and I crapped my pants and stayed in the closet for hours more. I was 5 years old at the time and I knew how to tell time and count, that is how I remember. I was yelled at for going to the bathroom and made to clean it up myself. All of this was over not picking up my toys immedietely when told.
During my entire childhood, not a week went by that I wasn't beaten ( not spanked ). I remember coming in the house excited about something and I forgot to hang up my wind jacket. My dad was standing there with a board with holes in it and told me to pick it up. I said I would but please don't hit me when I bend over. He promised he wouldn't. I bent over to pick up my coat and I was shocked when he hit me. It caught me off guard and I flew about 5 ft into the wall that was near my coat and hit my head. I didn't even have time to stand up because he grabbed my arm and flung me in the air to the next wall. Then he began to spank me left and right until I was screaming and walking in a circle. He eventually stopped because the 1/2 inch thick paddle finally broke. He dropped my arm and I fell limp to the floor. After that, I could barely move my arm and it started to turn black it was so bruised. For the longest time I had to cover my arm and if anyone saw it I lied and said I fell off of the curly slide.
Children Services did occasionally come to visit my home. The woman would take us in our bedroom to talk to us but me and my sister didn't dare to say a word. My parents bedroom was right next to ours and I could hear them listening through the heat register. Before she came, we were told that if we said anything that dad would go to jail and that it would be all of our faults and that Jehovah would punish us for being disobedient children. After the "bad" beatings, my mom would talk to us in our room and say that it is Jehovah testing us to see how much we could bare and that Jehovah would not give us more than we could handle.
I have found that anger to me comes and goes like a wave and that it is an important part of healing. I am at a time in my life that I can say the anger is a size of a pea, but it used to consume me. I am trying to enjoy everyday that I am alive and I feel that if the begining part of my life has been this bad than I must be long overdue for some good times ahead.
I hope in some small way that this explains what abuse really is. I know that alot of people on this site have their own story of abuse, hence the anger.
I read a really good quote the other day that I would like to share with you- Forgiving doesn't mean forgetting. It means understanding.
I had to really think about that for awhile and let it stew. I think when you understand someone and what motivates them to do the things they do, than the anger stops and real joy can begin. At least you and I are out!!!!!!
