Domestic Abuse.......A survivor's Story.

She looks to the sun. To Help Her to Carry on.
Breakin down all the years, wondering how she got here.
She drifts through the sky. Counting the reasons why.
How my life turned so fast? Remembering all of the past.
All the changes and all the mistakes, foolishly laughing at things that, words that she said.....
Time to follow the heart. The world is falling apart.
And the turning of every new page, a book on the shelf that is there to remain.
Breaking the walls as she's tearing them down as she is starting to drown.
She's waiting for love.... Pink-"Waiting for Love"


In honor of this, my 10,000th post, I wanted to talk about one of the most painful things I've had to deal with in my life. Domestic Abuse.

My mother grew up in a house with an alcoholic father. He beat my grandmother and terrorized the kids. Each of the women, my mother and her 2 sisters (and later all their daughters), were molested by family members and or family friends. When they grew up, they had relationships with men who abused them. In turn, their daughters (and myself) grew up to have similar relationships filled with abuse. Abuse begets abuse begets abuse begets abuse.....

I remember a fight between my mother and father. I was younger than 4 because my dad left us right after I turned 4. I remember hearing yelling and screaming. I got out of bed and walked into our hallway. I saw my dad slap my mother hard across the face, hard enough to knock her glasses off her face and into the bathtub. I started screaming and crying telling my dad not to hit my mother. He just turned and looked at me with rage and shut the bathroom door. When he shut the door, my fingers were in the door jamb and he shut the door on my small fingers. I screamed bloody murder in pain. My dad threw open the door and I remember seeing that they both had a look of concern on their faces. I said to my dad "why did you shut the door on my fingers". He said "Your mother did it". I said "No she didn't. You did. I saw you", and with that he just shut the door and continued to beat her. This is my first memory in life....

Thankfully in my life I was able to escape the sexual abuse that all the women in my family tree have had to endure. But that is not to say that the effects of the domestic abuse I witnessed all my life didn't have a huge impact on my life and on the choices I made.

Being gay wasn't easy in a religious household. Dealing with all the dysfunction in my family was enough to shatter my self esteem. Religion only compounded the issue. My parents divorce affected me and my sister profoundly. We grew up in a struggling single parent home. The cycle was alive and well.

I met Paul when I was 21. I was only out of the closet for 3 years and had my heart broken already 2 times. At the time I met him I wasn't looking for love. Paul told me when we first hooked up not to expect anything out of it and I said that was fine with me cuz I wasn't looking for anything either. We spent more time together. Then came to figure out that we both really liked each other and the more time we spent together the more that like grew. We came to fall in love and thus began a 3 year journey into hell.

Having gone through the experience, looking back I now know that the signs were there. But being inexperienced and new to relationships I wasn't really sure what to look for. Honestly I never really looked for signs in the beginning because who thinks they're walking into an abusive relationship? More often than not, you don't. He didn't hit me right away. He wasn't abusive and mean in the beginning. He was plenty jealous but at the time I thought that was a nice thing. It showed me how much he really loved me, or so I thought. After about 11 months we moved in together.

It was my first time out of the house on my own. I was so excited. To be moving in with my boyfriend. It felt great to make this kind of step. I was a grown up now. The 3rd day in the apartment my best friend came to spend the night. My partner and I had gotten an invitation to a house party and I thought it would be fun if my best friend came along. We got to the party and 45 minutes later my boyfriend started tripping and telling me we had to go. I asked him why and he said that he thought I was looking at other guys. I was like...give me a break. I'm just sitting with my friend and we're having a good time. I'm not ready to leave. With that he said he was going to leave and I told him I was going to stay. I did.

After having a great time at the party we walked home (it was close by). When I got there the door was locked and my keys were in the car. I knocked several times and there was no answer. I knocked some more and the door opened a peep. Paul was looking through the crack in the door asking me what I wanted. "I want to come in" I said. He said for me to leave and I was like "this is my apartment too!" With that he opened the door, grabbed me by the arm, pulled me in and threw me on the couch and raised his hand to hit me. My best friend jumped between us and told him not to touch me or he'd have a real fight on his hand. My ex was a 200 pound body builder. I was 118. Hardly a match.

My friend and I walked to my mom's house about 6 miles away. I was so humiliated and embarrassed and sad. He had never acted like that before. We had our fights, who doesn't, but he never really got that physical before. When we got to my mom's house I made up some excuse for why I was there and not at my apartment. Pride is a powerful thing. I could have left him right then but I wanted my family to think I had a good relationship, that I was grown enough to make it on my own. I didn't want to come crawling back after only 3 days in my first apartment. So when he called telling me he was sorry, I went back.

Over the course of the next year and a half we got in many fights, most of which I ended up getting hit. At first the abuse was psychological and emotional. He didn't get physical with me until after we moved in together. But looking back I can see how he manipulated my innocence. Systematically he worked on me to make me think I was crazy. He even worked on my friends and family. As an example, one time he was getting ready for work and couldn't find his wallet. He calmly asked me where I had placed it. I told him I didn't know where his wallet was. He said lovingly "babe you had it last night. Don't you remember where you put it?" I then thought to myself...well did I have it? I don't remember that. But he was so sincere and it made me question my own memory. Did I really have it? I could swear that I never had it but I must just not remember it. He had it the whole time. He did things like this often and after a while I began questioning myself.

About 5 years after we broke up I went to visit my cousin up north. My boyfriend and I used to go play cards with her all the time. I hadn't seen her in those 5 years and we got to talking about all kinds of personal things, family our relationships etc. I told her all the gory details about me and Paul. She told me this story that blew my mind. She told me how he once pulled her aside at one of our cardnights while I was in the bathroom. She said that he asked her "Has he always been like that?" She said "like what?". He then told her that I would just burst out for no reason at all and he was concerned about me and thought that maybe I needed help. When she told me that I knew exactly what night she was talking about. That night he had leaned over to me while one player was up in the bathroom and my cousin was in the kitchen. He said something really fucked up and it pissed me off. I reacted. As far as my cousin knows, she has not heard him say a word as he whispered it in my ear. To the casual bystander it could look like I'm bursting out for no reason. He played similar games with my friends as well. Even they thought I was overreacting to things and I felt like I was going crazy. I was even seriously thinking about going to a doctor because I thought I was losing my mind.

I will never forget the feeling when I realized that he was playing mind games with me all along. We were fighting over something we always fought about. His jealousy. He was going on and on and on about something and I was explaining to him in detail that he was wrong and why he was wrong and I couldn't make him see it. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It hit me so hard that I got dizzy and felt like I was going to faint. It was like blinders had been removed and I saw clearly in that argument that he knew exactly what I was saying and that he was only pretending not to understand just to frustrate me and play with my mind. That was the turning point in my acceptance of the situation. It just never occurred to me before then, that I wasn't the one with the problem. I would never treat anyone I loved like that and certainly never expected anyone who loved me to do that to me. God I was so innocent.

I can't tell you how wounded and confused I was at this time in my life. , without a doubt of all the horrors I went through in my life, the time I spent with Paul were the darkest days of my life. I don't know how much of the details you know but I look back at that time and I'm amazed that I lived through it. That is why my cousin's death has been so absolutely devastating to me. I could have been her Anyone else in the family could have been her and unfortunately she paid the worst price. There were times when I really did fear for my own life because he would go off the deep end and he was so crazed with insanity that anything could have happened.

One time he accused me of flirting with some guy and I totally was only playing pinball, for godsakes how could I pay attention to the damn game and have my head turning every which way to scope guys? Well on the way home he wanted me to confess that I was flirting with guys and I wouldn't and it escalated with him becoming very angry because I was "lying" to him and I told him to just drop me at my moms and he said he would if I confessed. Well I wasn't going to confess to something that wasn't true so he jumped on the freeway and I told him to drop me at my mom's and now I'm getting really upset and he's screaming NOT UNTIL YOU CONFESS!! and I said I wouldn't and to drop me off and he reached over and opened my door and tried pushing me out of our car on the freeway yelling and asking If I wanted to go home so bad I could just get out.

He ended up driving us into these mountains telling me to confess and I wouldn't still and he drove all crazy on those curves and turns doing skids and peeling out and I thought he was going to drive us off the cliffs. We finally came out of those hills and by that time we were about 30 miles from our house and he dropped me off on a freeway and took off. I had no money on me and I walked and walked not sure what to do. How do I explain to my mom why I'm walking on the damn freeway? I had no cash so I couldn't call a cab. I walked for about 5 miles and then stopped at a call box, called him and told him to come get me and he told me to confess on the phone or he would kill my cats. I told him to kill them then because I was not going to admit to something I didn't do. He came back and got me and he dropped me at my moms....finally.

Another time he was flipping out about the same kind of shit and he walked into the kitchen, got a knife and held it to my throat, pushing it into my skin telling me he could just kill me right there. I told him I was ready to meet my maker and could live with myself, but could he. That disarmed him because he left me alone after that. He never really physically hurt me like breaking my bones or putting scars on me or making me bleed but he open hand slapped me many times.

One time he came home and the night started out OK but turned into a nightmare as we started fighting and he ended up grabbing my CDs and snapping them one by one into a pile on the floor. I acted like I didn't care, even though music has always been my life, and the more he didn't get to me the angrier he got. He ended up tearing my Lovesexy poster to shreds. He did that with a lot of my stuff, destroyed it....just like he tried to destroy me. As soon as I reacted he attacked me pinning me down on our bed and he was choking me and I couldn't breathe. While he choked me with one hand he was slapping me full force with the other. He finally got off raving like a lunatic through the house and he left and I was there on the bed crying uncontrollably just in disbelief that this is what my life had become.

These are just a few of the many horror stories I can tell. During this nightmare alcohol became my best friend. I drank to feel better. I drank to escape. I drank to forget.

My liberation came on a day that was like many others, awful. We had a party with some friends and the next day when my ex left for work he said that he wanted the house clean by the time he came home. I was like "yeah yeah , it'll get done". I set out to clean the place and not just straightening up either. I mopped the floors, scrubbed the kitchen clean, polished the furniture, vacuumed, I mean really cleaned the apartment. I had just finished the bathroom and the vanity area and was starting on the bedroom when he came home. He walked into a spotless place. As soon as he opened the door to the bedroom he just wigged out and started screaming and yelling that he just couldn't take it anymore. Take what?! "I can't stand living with a pig like you". I was like "HELLO!! this place is spotless and I'm finishing the bedroom as we speak!" He just ranted about what a pigsty the room was, meanwhile there was hardly anything to do to it besides make the bed and pick up loose clothes. He just said he couldn't take it anymore and that he wanted me gone. I asked him if that is what he really wanted and he said yes. So I packed up as much as I could in about a half-hour and he dropped me at my mothers house and I never went back.

As it turns out, he was a drug addict. He was hooked on speed. Many people say that I should have been able to tell but he was a user. He ate and slept on that drug. He had dark eyes so you couldn't tell anything by looking at his pupils, you couldn't even see them. He did not act nervously or get chatty. The only sign was his irrational moods and psychotic jealousy. Before we moved in together he was using and I didn't know it. I did become aware some months after living together but I thought it was a casual thing. It wasn't until towards the end that I figured out that he was using all the time. And all his jealous ravings....well it turns out that the whole time he was accusing me of cheating, which was not true, he had been cheating. It's very true that when your mate is overly obsessed with your behavior and makes accusations, chances are they are guilty and deflecting their guilt onto you.





You were stealing me away from me
Nobody needed me anymore than me
And It's amazing how the tears fall
Water seeds that grow to be your strength to leave
Cuz I'm finally at the point
where I'm ready for the truth
and anything i do from here to make me happy
is up to me not you. Truth Hurts-"Catch 22"

It's been 14 years since I left him and little by little I have regained myself. You lose yourself in that situation. Getting to know myself again over these years was the best gift I ever could have given myself. I was an emotional mess for a long time. Sometimes the horror of it all still haunts me. I am very glad to say that I have never been in another relationship like this and I can say that I never will. Nobody will ever put their hands on me again and if they do, I'M GONE! Each day of freedom makes me stronger. Each day without that pain makes me happier. Each year that passes only sets to take me further and further away from the nightmare I once lived.

At the same time I was going through my situation, my best friend was dealing with the same thing. Her girlfriend abused her. She had it worse than I did. I was gone from my relationship about a year when I finally convinced her to leave her girlfriend and move away with me. It was truly an amazing thing to be able to walk her through all the steps I had already taken. All the steps from leaving, to gaining back the person you lost when your mate destroyed you.

The purpose of this thread was first to reach out to those out there who face this kind of situation, and I know you're there, to give them a sense of hope. The other purpose of this thread was to really give people an idea of how/why people end up in these situations. Most people blame the abused for allowing themselves to be abused. I see more people blaming the abused than blaming the abuser. There is absolutely no doubt that the victim has some responsibility in the situation. They choose to stay. But there are reasons that people end up in this situation in the first place and reasons why people have a difficult time leaving or never leave.

Growing up seeing my mom, my aunts, my cousins and my sister all get abused by men really set a precedent for what is "acceptable". It's not that I ever thought it was right for my boyfriend to hit me but it didn't seem outrageously out of the norm from what I was exposed to. Having really bad self esteem left me open to be exploited. Going into that relationship I was so innocent and so pure. I never considered that someone would hurt me on purpose (the mental games) so I never considered it. I thought it was me. I thought I was at fault for the fighting. After living a life where I have been deprived of love (not from my mother, she always loved me), when I found it I wanted desperately to hold onto it. I watched my mother go to the ends of the earth for a man who did not deserve her undying devotion and love. When I left my boyfriend I knew I didn't want that to be me. I wanted to come to a place where I could give my love to someone who deserved to have it. Sometimes people are so starved to be loved that they will accept the abuse because it often comes with the abuser saying they are sorry and loving that person afterward. The incredible emotional rollercoaster of not being loved and then being loved causes people not to be able to think effectively. Many people trust that they can do better and that the abuser won't do it again like they promise. Unfortunately this promise is almost always broken.

Many many people are parts of the cycle of abuse. You don't break free from that easily. It takes providence and the grace of God to break the cycle. It takes the ability to grab and hold onto that last strand of strength when you need it the most. Unless you have walked in these shoes, it's nearly impossible for someone who has never been through this to understand the enormity of the strength you need at the very time where you have the least amount of it. I once attended a seminar in which the speaker said "Reject comfort in discomfort". This was a true eye opener. I myself came to be comfortable with an uncomfortable situation. I was familiar with it and it seemed to give me more comfort than the unknown of what would happen if I left. Do not underestimate the power of fear. When someone has your mind in chains it's incredibly hard to break them. Abusers instill fear into their victims and fear is a huge millstone that is not easy to lift. Until you live daily in fear, don't judge a person for being affected by it.

For anyone who faces this situation, you should not be ashamed. You should look at yourself honestly and ask this one question. Do I deserve this? The answer is NO! I'm not yelling at you, just emphasizing how one sided the answer to that question is. Only one answer.....no Nobody has the right to put their hands on you in any other way than to love you. And if they do, you must leave and never give that person another chance. Trust me, the chances are they will not change and you will have made the worst decision in your life by staying. Being in my abusive relationship, my mind was full of confusion and chaos and I had no idea if I was coming or going. Once I left, my mind became clear. I had time to focus. I had the emotional energy to heal myself. I had the will to live and to believe in myself. I think of it this way: if you are up with your face right directly in front of the TV screen, it's nearly impossible to tell what is going on. Once you pull back and away from the screen you can clearly see the picture. It's very much like that with this. I found that once I made that first step to leave, all the other steps were easy. Getting up the courage to leave was the hardest part. Once I did, all the other steps were a cinch. If you have children, you owe it not only to yourself to leave but to those kids as well. There are support networks out there that can help guide you in the step of leaving. You are worth it. We all are. Every person's destiny in this life is to be loved....

Society needs to realize that the abused do not deserve to be attacked for being in a shitty situation. Yes people make choices but we need to understand why they are making them in the first place. Many times abusers don't abuse right away. It's usually only after they have gained your full trust before they start their manipulation, lies and assaults. We as people need to reach out to those in need and let them know we are here for them, in whatever capacity you are capable of whether it be financial, emotional or whatever it is that you can do. Victims do not deserve the stigma that people place on them for this horrific crime. They deserve our love, compassion, understanding and support. You deserve love and understanding. If your mate does not give that to you, they don't deserve you. Be strong. As much as it may seem, the truth is you aren't alone. You can break the chains. You can.....

Never be afraid to love, never be afraid to just be.
You've got to Cast away the chains of doubt and have the courage to be free.
Don't cloud your eyes with others lies, see only what you want to see.
Just duplicate this simple truth and have the courage to be free.....Open your eyes, you can fly
Lizz Wright-"You Can Fly"


Love,
Supa




My cousin became the ultimate victim of abuse. She died 3/15/06. Rest in peace Lisa You will always be in my heart and i will honor you the rest of my life by bringing hope, healing and peace to others....

My tributes, rememberances and honor of her are here:

http://www.prince.org/msg/100/220882

http://prince.org/msg/100/264513
.
[Edited 9/4/08 18:42pm]

I don't have the energy and the guts to read it, but I think it's a very brave thing for you to post.
Thank you, it makes me feel less alone in this world to know there are many others with simular problems than mine

I'll save it and read it later, when I'm not tired and in a better mood to cope with it.

Whateva said:

I don't have the energy and the guts to read it, but I think it's a very brave thing for you to post.
Thank you, it makes me feel less alone in this world to know there are many others with simular problems than mine

I'll save it and read it later, when I'm not tired and in a better mood to cope with it.

I'll eventually read all of what you have shared, but from the little I've seen, your a brave soul to share such pirvate pain & tragedy with us here. To open yourself up like that, especially with some knuckleheads here possibly reading it is courageous indeed. It's such a shame and an embarrasment for the men in your life to have acted as they did, that was truly criminal and dispicable of them. But if you have lived through that an can somewhat function in this world, goodie for you. That's some terrible trauma for someone to have witnessed, but it's more common than we can ever know, so it's good for you if you have some relief in sharing this here. Seek some therapy if you have'nt already.

SupaFunkyOrgangrinderSexy said:

Whateva said:

I don't have the energy and the guts to read it, but I think it's a very brave thing for you to post.
Thank you, it makes me feel less alone in this world to know there are many others with simular problems than mine

I'll save it and read it later, when I'm not tired and in a better mood to cope with it.

I'm here when you need to talk

And might I add that I will not break the confidence of anyone who may want to talk about their situation in private via orgnote.

I am a domestic abuse survivor. I have never gone back - not even once!

If you really wanna get out - you can!! There are a lot of supports out there.

Edmonton, AB - - "all seeing, all knowing-thats our luv -prb"-"Yeah...we're like the Hotel California of fansites" - Nikademus - Nothinbutjoy¤°: I am so beyond mother fucking glad that it's the God Damned weekend that i could just shit kitttens

This thread isn't only for the women and gay men who face this. It's also for the straight men out there. You do not need to put up with abuse. Nobody does.

Supa, you're a PRIME A class act...it's nice to see that you now love yourself as much as
others love you. I commend your courage for writting all of that, it must have been difficult.
As we deal with our own daily struggles and problems, it's often lost on us that there are
people much worse off. Your long distance friend, JOHN

Congratulations to Revolution for winning the National Football League Org Pickem 2005

Thanks for sharing your story Supa!

It is powerful..

I have watched my little sister go through some horrible stuff with her boyfriend of 15 years.... I have tried to talk to her. Picking her, and her children up on street corners. Battered and bruised.

Taking her home and nurturing her. Only to have her go back and repeat the same scenario.. Sad, huh?

I often wonder why? She was never privy to abuse herself. I made sure of that..

I have nurtured her daughter, my Goddaughter from birth. I have made it clear that what she has seen is not right. No one has a right to hit another human being.

I have taught her boundaries, I have taught her how to speak her mind.. Hopefully, as she grows into dating (she is 13) she will take all that she has learned with her.

Supa you are a very strong person, you have come from a bad situation and have made yourself better from it. I truly am glad that everything is working out for you.

Supa, that's the most beautiful thing I've ever read. I cannot find the words to sufficently applaud and praise what you've just written. It's not an issue which has directly affected me, but I am close to people who have been victims and survivors.

Supa, you deserve a hug.

Thank You For Sharing Your Story
growing up with an alcoholic father is a tough situation
I know all to well

Man alive, that has made me see the inside of your soul, thanks for sharing Supa. More power to you and may your God bless you and go with you always. You deserve happiness as do all of those who suffer abuse.
Peace my friend and thankyou

Supa, I can't even start to explain how much this story moved me, being a survivor myself. Here is my story in short, if you would like to read it.

It's a huge part of the depression I'm battling since January, and it's in my nightmares constantly, every night. My childhood was very short, I remember events when I was 4 or 5 years old, and the way I remember them or thought of things at the time wasn't a child's way of thinking. The first 20 years of my life was forever steeped in looking out for myself, listening on the phone and in the opening of the front door for signs of drunkenness in my parents. I stayed away when I could, if I couldn't I stood up to my father by telling him to turn the music down cos I couldn't sleep, or to please stop abusing mom until he chased me out of the apartment and locked the door. This would take place late at night, midnight or later, and I would be in my nightie sitting on the stairs in the communal hallway. I quietly listened at our neighbours' door for signs saying they were awake, if I heard noises and saw light through the mail slot I would ring their bell and get somewhere to sleep, if not the stairs was it. My father would beat my mother and she'd threaten him with a knife in drunken brawls, the police came to our place more often than I'd care to remember. My dad told me and eventually my sister (she was born when I was 7 and I became her mom) that the police would come take him away and we'd never see him again and that it was all mother's fault. I believed him of course and looked the kindly police woman in the eyes and said "sorry officer, I was asleep so I really couldn't say what happened". I cannot count the many times I have regretted that, things would have been so much better.
I would pull the plug on the speakers to our stereo when mom and dad had passed out, trying to fix it so that dad couldn't make it work when he came to. All I wanted was some sleep. I would pour out beers and wine the same way, knowing they couldn't count being that far gone. I put out candles and lamps, and cleaned up cos I didn't wanna see the mess in the morning. Once my dad fell asleep sitting on the toilet and I tried to wake him cos I really needed to do a number 2, but he wouldn't wake and I ended up sitting on the edge of the bathtub doing it, feeling so humiliated. I cleaned it up afterwards and never told him about it until very recently. He was appalled at himself.
My parents separated but things hardly got better, even though I could control mom some of the time. As I got into my teens I became more sure of myself, not backing down to either of my parents EVER, which resulted in months of staying at my best friend Jen's place with her family. Once dad came over to get him and mom drunk and chased me round the flat cos I told him to F*** off, I ended up having to climb down from our first floor balcony to meet Jen. As I climbed down he waved and cheerfully said "See you tomorrow, goodnight", thinking anybody was fooled. To this day Jen's family are as much my family as my "real" one, and I cannot say where I would have been today hadn't it been for them. I love them dearly.
One time my sister called the youth center where I spent most of my evenings, crying and saying mom was so drunk she couldn't make sense of what she said. I went home and started cussing mom off, I really hated and despised how disgusting she became when she was drunk. She got so crazy mad that she tried to strangle me with a broomstick and I knocked her unconscious. I took my sis and left, checking mom's pulse but not caring enough if she was really hurt.
In 1990, when I was about to graduate from our equivalent of junior high, mom got doublesided pneumonia and blood poisoning and spent 6 weeks on a ventilator. I prayed that she would die then, because things would get better. I don't regret that I did so at the time, but I would not wish the same now. Mom is now sober since almost 10 years.

Events go on and on in the same vein, but my sister and I are alive at least, she is way less scarred than I am. Our relationship was very bad when we were younger, I was forever hating her for existing so I had to take care of her, and I picked on her for always crying and being weaker than I was and am. We have healed those scars now, I asked her if she thinks we need to talk about it more now that I am where I am, but she thinks we're fine and so do I. Now she's having a baby in November and I'm becoming an auntie.

Dad and I came to a standoff this May, we had been trying to work on the premise that it was ok for him to drink when I wasn't around, but I found that I couldn't do it so I sat him down and told him, preparing for defeat before the battle had started. I got up ready to leave his aoartment and his life when he amazed and said "stop, please. Could you sit down and tell me what you want? Give me the chance to be a REAL father, maybe for the first time ever?" This simple question had an equally simple answer, "I want you to stop drinking, it's all I ever wanted." He simply said "ok, then that's what I'll do." He IS doing it too, WE are doing it. He's not completely dry yet, but we fight together and hit the little bumps together. Little by little, I am healing.

Thanks to those who read this, I am always here if anybody needs to talk.

Teacher said:

Supa, I can't even start to explain how much this story moved me, being a survivor myself. Here is my story in short, if you would like to read it.

It's a huge part of the depression I'm battling since January, and it's in my nightmares constantly, every night. My childhood was very short, I remember events when I was 4 or 5 years old, and the way I remember them or thought of things at the time wasn't a child's way of thinking. The first 20 years of my life was forever steeped in looking out for myself, listening on the phone and in the opening of the front door for signs of drunkenness in my parents. I stayed away when I could, if I couldn't I stood up to my father by telling him to turn the music down cos I couldn't sleep, or to please stop abusing mom until he chased me out of the apartment and locked the door. This would take place late at night, midnight or later, and I would be in my nightie sitting on the stairs in the communal hallway. I quietly listened at our neighbours' door for signs saying they were awake, if I heard noises and saw light through the mail slot I would ring their bell and get somewhere to sleep, if not the stairs was it. My father would beat my mother and she'd threaten him with a knife in drunken brawls, the police came to our place more often than I'd care to remember. My dad told me and eventually my sister (she was born when I was 7 and I became her mom) that the police would come take him away and we'd never see him again and that it was all mother's fault. I believed him of course and looked the kindly police woman in the eyes and said "sorry officer, I was asleep so I really couldn't say what happened". I cannot count the many times I have regretted that, things would have been so much better.
I would pull the plug on the speakers to our stereo when mom and dad had passed out, trying to fix it so that dad couldn't make it work when he came to. All I wanted was some sleep. I would pour out beers and wine the same way, knowing they couldn't count being that far gone. I put out candles and lamps, and cleaned up cos I didn't wanna see the mess in the morning. Once my dad fell asleep sitting on the toilet and I tried to wake him cos I really needed to do a number 2, but he wouldn't wake and I ended up sitting on the edge of the bathtub doing it, feeling so humiliated. I cleaned it up afterwards and never told him about it until very recently. He was appalled at himself.
My parents separated but things hardly got better, even though I could control mom some of the time. As I got into my teens I became more sure of myself, not backing down to either of my parents EVER, which resulted in months of staying at my best friend Jen's place with her family. Once dad came over to get him and mom drunk and chased me round the flat cos I told him to F*** off, I ended up having to climb down from our first floor balcony to meet Jen. As I climbed down he waved and cheerfully said "See you tomorrow, goodnight", thinking anybody was fooled. To this day Jen's family are as much my family as my "real" one, and I cannot say where I would have been today hadn't it been for them. I love them dearly.
One time my sister called the youth center where I spent most of my evenings, crying and saying mom was so drunk she couldn't make sense of what she said. I went home and started cussing mom off, I really hated and despised how disgusting she became when she was drunk. She got so crazy mad that she tried to strangle me with a broomstick and I knocked her unconscious. I took my sis and left, checking mom's pulse but not caring enough if she was really hurt.
In 1990, when I was about to graduate from our equivalent of junior high, mom got doublesided pneumonia and blood poisoning and spent 6 weeks on a ventilator. I prayed that she would die then, because things would get better. I don't regret that I did so at the time, but I would not wish the same now. Mom is now sober since almost 10 years.

Events go on and on in the same vein, but my sister and I are alive at least, she is way less scarred than I am. Our relationship was very bad when we were younger, I was forever hating her for existing so I had to take care of her, and I picked on her for always crying and being weaker than I was and am. We have healed those scars now, I asked her if she thinks we need to talk about it more now that I am where I am, but she thinks we're fine and so do I. Now she's having a baby in November and I'm becoming an auntie.

Dad and I came to a standoff this May, we had been trying to work on the premise that it was ok for him to drink when I wasn't around, but I found that I couldn't do it so I sat him down and told him, preparing for defeat before the battle had started. I got up ready to leave his aoartment and his life when he amazed and said "stop, please. Could you sit down and tell me what you want? Give me the chance to be a REAL father, maybe for the first time ever?" This simple question had an equally simple answer, "I want you to stop drinking, it's all I ever wanted." He simply said "ok, then that's what I'll do." He IS doing it too, WE are doing it. He's not completely dry yet, but we fight together and hit the little bumps together. Little by little, I am healing.

Thanks to those who read this, I am always here if anybody needs to talk.

I love you, Supa.

I love you, Teacher.


You guys are heroes.

Teacher said:

Supa, I can't even start to explain how much this story moved me, being a survivor myself. Here is my story in short, if you would like to read it.

It's a huge part of the depression I'm battling since January, and it's in my nightmares constantly, every night. My childhood was very short, I remember events when I was 4 or 5 years old, and the way I remember them or thought of things at the time wasn't a child's way of thinking. The first 20 years of my life was forever steeped in looking out for myself, listening on the phone and in the opening of the front door for signs of drunkenness in my parents. I stayed away when I could, if I couldn't I stood up to my father by telling him to turn the music down cos I couldn't sleep, or to please stop abusing mom until he chased me out of the apartment and locked the door. This would take place late at night, midnight or later, and I would be in my nightie sitting on the stairs in the communal hallway. I quietly listened at our neighbours' door for signs saying they were awake, if I heard noises and saw light through the mail slot I would ring their bell and get somewhere to sleep, if not the stairs was it. My father would beat my mother and she'd threaten him with a knife in drunken brawls, the police came to our place more often than I'd care to remember. My dad told me and eventually my sister (she was born when I was 7 and I became her mom) that the police would come take him away and we'd never see him again and that it was all mother's fault. I believed him of course and looked the kindly police woman in the eyes and said "sorry officer, I was asleep so I really couldn't say what happened". I cannot count the many times I have regretted that, things would have been so much better.
I would pull the plug on the speakers to our stereo when mom and dad had passed out, trying to fix it so that dad couldn't make it work when he came to. All I wanted was some sleep. I would pour out beers and wine the same way, knowing they couldn't count being that far gone. I put out candles and lamps, and cleaned up cos I didn't wanna see the mess in the morning. Once my dad fell asleep sitting on the toilet and I tried to wake him cos I really needed to do a number 2, but he wouldn't wake and I ended up sitting on the edge of the bathtub doing it, feeling so humiliated. I cleaned it up afterwards and never told him about it until very recently. He was appalled at himself.
My parents separated but things hardly got better, even though I could control mom some of the time. As I got into my teens I became more sure of myself, not backing down to either of my parents EVER, which resulted in months of staying at my best friend Jen's place with her family. Once dad came over to get him and mom drunk and chased me round the flat cos I told him to F*** off, I ended up having to climb down from our first floor balcony to meet Jen. As I climbed down he waved and cheerfully said "See you tomorrow, goodnight", thinking anybody was fooled. To this day Jen's family are as much my family as my "real" one, and I cannot say where I would have been today hadn't it been for them. I love them dearly.
One time my sister called the youth center where I spent most of my evenings, crying and saying mom was so drunk she couldn't make sense of what she said. I went home and started cussing mom off, I really hated and despised how disgusting she became when she was drunk. She got so crazy mad that she tried to strangle me with a broomstick and I knocked her unconscious. I took my sis and left, checking mom's pulse but not caring enough if she was really hurt.
In 1990, when I was about to graduate from our equivalent of junior high, mom got doublesided pneumonia and blood poisoning and spent 6 weeks on a ventilator. I prayed that she would die then, because things would get better. I don't regret that I did so at the time, but I would not wish the same now. Mom is now sober since almost 10 years.

Events go on and on in the same vein, but my sister and I are alive at least, she is way less scarred than I am. Our relationship was very bad when we were younger, I was forever hating her for existing so I had to take care of her, and I picked on her for always crying and being weaker than I was and am. We have healed those scars now, I asked her if she thinks we need to talk about it more now that I am where I am, but she thinks we're fine and so do I. Now she's having a baby in November and I'm becoming an auntie.

Dad and I came to a standoff this May, we had been trying to work on the premise that it was ok for him to drink when I wasn't around, but I found that I couldn't do it so I sat him down and told him, preparing for defeat before the battle had started. I got up ready to leave his aoartment and his life when he amazed and said "stop, please. Could you sit down and tell me what you want? Give me the chance to be a REAL father, maybe for the first time ever?" This simple question had an equally simple answer, "I want you to stop drinking, it's all I ever wanted." He simply said "ok, then that's what I'll do." He IS doing it too, WE are doing it. He's not completely dry yet, but we fight together and hit the little bumps together. Little by little, I am healing.

Thanks to those who read this, I am always here if anybody needs to talk.

TheOrgerFormerlyKnownAs said:

I love you, Supa.

I love you, Teacher.


You guys are heroes.

Supa, thank you for sharing your story.....It takes a lot of guts to let all of that out. I, too, witnessed a lot of abuse, both physical and mental, growing up.....that shit stays with you forever Regardless of how hard you try, the memories are forever. One of my earliest memories of abuse is watching my mother being beaten, by her then boyfriend, because she wouldn't make the bed. Though I have never been in a physically abusive relationship, I have subjected myself to verbally abusive relationships and as you said...."abuse begets abuse etc..." It's sad.

Smooches;)

supa i'm gad you're here on this earth still able to love and smile and enjoy. thanks for opening up. a lot of people will take inspiration from your words, including me.

You shared a LOT here, Supa...and without realizing it you probably have connected to many souls who read this, who relate to what you experienced and expressed...and they'll be touched and thankful that you did.

Wonderful post, my friend...

Holy moley!



No one should have to endure what you two (and others) have gone through. It makes me realize just how fortunate I was when I was growing up. Thank you for sharing your experiences.

Your story is a reminder of how resilient human beings can be.... my dad had a very abusive upbringing, living with a father who was an alcoholic and would frequently beat up his wife, not to mention his daughters and sons as well.... they were in constant fear for their lives.... and the effects of the abuse have been very evident in quite a few of my dad's siblings... His sister took her own life and jumped off a building... leavng children of her own without a mother....

There are so many tragic outcomes.... fortunately my dad was able to overcome the extremely difficult childhood he had to endure, and luckily for me, he didn't repeat the abusive behaviour he endured. He is the most amazing father to me, better than I could ever dream of, and it astounds me that someone who had such a poor example as a father could be such an incredible father and know how to nurture and how to love.... He often tells me the one lesson his father taught him was how not to be... and my dad wanted to be the complete of opposite of him, which he certainly is.

One can triumph over the most unbearable of childhoods.... your story is proof of that, it is very moving and inspirational... you are a hero, as are many people who live through such a difficult time and are able to turn it around, your message is important for those who don't see a light out of the tunnel... where there is life, there is possibility, possibility of better days ahead, and it is important for people to hold on to that, the truth that there can be better days ahead, and that one should never underestimate their own strength, yet also should never shy away from asking for help, if needed.... it is out there.

You're incredibly strong Supa.... thank you for sharing your story.

Sir, You are a survivor and an inspiration to others....

I post this as I believe You deserve that little extra recognition for what you have endured

and how you have dealt with it.....Quite apart from sharing something so harrowing.

With Respect, Steadwood

I have a firm grip on reality...Maybe just not this reality

Richard... I read every single word... and yes, I can relate to many degrees. I would write my experience, I am actually quite open about it... when time is suitable. People assume my positive outlooks are "dreamy" and delusional... perhaps even irrational. How you/all may perceive me here, is how many or all would perceive me in real life. You see... it's been a lifetime goal to be where I am today, through hard work and intense awareness... not just within my life but with all life as a whole.

I am intensely tolerate to various behavior... leaving a few unexceptable behaviors (personally) to a degree of zero tolerance.

I am completely aware that all people are the way they are for some specific reason... a painful past, upbring or present life moment. While I do my best to not participate in certain behavior... I do however still have compassion for all, I do. (This part of my characteristic can be challenging, yes) I have my boundaries... as we all do and I will not hesitate to speak my mind when I feel it needs to be known. The rest... well, the world will continue to evolve.

Richard... to have compassion towards people even when in wrong doing (I mean ills of the world)...it is the best chain break (I believe) people can obtain. The cycle can be broken... yet the way in which that chain should be approach... will forever remain unique and obtainable or unobtainable... depending on the person.

I truly can write so extensively here... I really would like to sit here and write more thoughts... perhaps in more detail... my journey to now.

I promised a friend to meet her for a movie... so I better hurry and be on my way.

I love you Richard for your honesty... your strength that has emerged through some of the most difficult times of your life. I respect you more than you may know... for you beautifully being just who you are... all the ups and downs... that has made you the whole being you are today.

I don't believe life ever reaches... that "perfect state"... life will forever journey into the unknowns of so many occurrences... although one can make that ultimate decision to "gain strength, find strength" within themself. One must believe in just enough... so when those hard days come... they still can see the light, even if in distance.

This is a diverse situation... for all our minds are challenged in so many, many unique ways... and reasons for why we are who we are will never be duplicate to other life moments.

I suppose, for myself... the ability to "truly listen"... along with the desire to understand life moments/people... can very well be the savior to our own sense of insanity.

...

Like I said.... I could write a book... I actually believe you should write a book... your words are empowering, your sense of convictions towards life are enlightening even if dark. I am reading a book right now... "Dark Nights Of The Soul... A Guide To Finding Your Way Through Life's Ordeals" by Thomas Moore. I highly recommend this book, for within the shared words of this text... it talks about how our dark nights are (and I truly believe) the most absolute moments ever to exist within our own self revelations.

I better get going... This life experience of yours... has an enormous ability to reach so many souls... for the percentage of what truly exists... will never be known and most probably will result in... being too late. The mad cycle of disfunctions will never cease to exist, for the ones who have been successful in stepping out of that cycle... well you will never forget where you came from and no one will ever fully know, but you. To forget is not the goal (I feel), although to use the pain to turn your life around... a modeled form of what you don't want in your life... is a gift within itself, yes even through the pain and unexplainable issues that affect you directly. Answers don't always come, although self-acceptance/self-love can hold a power that nothing in this world can destroy. And yes, I do believe... and live in this state.

~Beautiful Night all.



Julie
[Edited 9/10/04 18:08pm]

I love you, Richard. Thanks for sharing your story. You're an inspiration.