What Child Abuse Taught Me

First off let me say that I am NOT an expert in child abuse; however I should be. You see, I was a victim of child abuse. The very first thing I learned about child abuse is that you don't always know you are being abused. You just think that this is the way things are supposed to be. If mommy or daddy said you were bad, you were bad, even if you didn’t understand why.

The second thing I learned about child abuse is that the revelation that you are being abused sneaks up on you. I suppose this is because you are finally in the outside world, going to school, meeting more people, children and hearing more things. When I was about 19 years old I read an article in the newspaper about a little girl that was beaten to death and was brought to uncontrollable tears. I remembered that other articles of child abuse affected me in a similar manner; I for the life of me, couldn’t understand why. It was a few years later when I finally made the connection.

The third thing I learned is that child abuse rubs off on you. The anger that I felt inside would manifest itself on my younger siblings. On several occasions, my younger half sister, who got a lot of attention and of whom I was jealous; got the brunt of my rage. I’m sixty three years old now and finally realize that. The thing is, those things my sister accused me of, those things that she remembers, are things I honestly contribute to simple misunderstanding. The things that she doesn’t remember, however, are things that I vividly remember. The saving grace was that I finally realized what I was doing was wrong.

I have a vivid memory of beating my younger brother and sister with my fists because they wouldn’t do what I told them to do. Our parents had gone to the store and would be back soon. When I finally realized what I was doing, I stopped. I rushed both of them back into the house and applied Ice to all the reddened areas. I remember crying and begging them not to tell mom and dad. I remember apologizing through my tears and never forgetting this horrible incident. The unfortunate part is that I inadvertently switched to verbal abuse. This was something else my parents taught me about child abuse. The memories of me screaming at them also reside in my guilt ridden psyche.


I was 11 years old. I was entering puberty and I was becoming bi-polar. Unbeknownst to me I was already depressed, as was my mother. The excruciating migraines I got every month as well as the horrendous cramp were debilitating. At least once a month I got sympathy from my step dad and he acted like he actually cared. He seemed helpless when it came to this pain, and he was helpless when it came to the pain my mother inflicted upon me when he wasn’t around. This is not to say that he didn’t contribute his share.

The fourth thing I learned about child abuse is that the memory of it never leaves you. Yes, I’ve forgiven my parents and, for the most part, I’ve forgiven myself; but even writing this, as I am now, brings large pain ridden tears to my eyes.

Before my first child was born I was working as a computer programmer. After she was born I realized that her little mind was a blank “disc” and everything I said, or did to her would be implanted onto that disc forever. I feel that I did as good a job as I could, under the circumstances under which I was raised. The ugly monster did raise it head. However, when it did, I was able to teach my daughter a valuable about what was NOT all right, what was NEVER all right. I immediately checked myself into the nearest mental facility. I was diagnosed with manic/depression with a psychotic episode, primarily due (in this particular case) to a lack of sleep. I was allowed to catch up on the sleep I had been deprived of which elevated psyche and brought me back to normal. After a week, I was put on medication and released. Hence the fifth thing I learned about child abuse is that there are some things your mind just blocks out. I guess this means I learned that child abuse can cause serious mental conditions.

My daughter is a beautiful young woman now with no memory of the event. I know because I wanted to talk to her about it and she swore she didn’t remember anything like that ever happening. I know that my parents tried to raise me the best way they knew how. The unfortunate part is that the only way they knew how to raise me was the same way they were raised. I remember my mom telling me stories of her father dragging her home by her hair and kicking her along the way. I remember her saying that he was drunk a lot of the time. I saw the way my step dad tried to teach my younger brother “how to be a man” by leading him around by his ear and belittling my brother for not doing something the way he thought it should be done.

There are probably a lot more things that child abuse taught me but writing this article has exhausted. Remembering painful events takes a lot out of a person. I know for a fact that those who have been raised with child abuse do not like to talk about it. We just want to DO something about it and being children of the sixties, we did. The zero tolerance of child abuse may seem a bit ridiculous to many, however being on the total tolerance side of it is not.

My mother taught me that many things said and done in jest, or under the influence of alcohol, have an underlining of truth within them. What may seem trivial may only be the first step in and escalation of future child abuse. Think about that the next time someone gets reprimanded for hitting a child.