Abusive Childhood, the Shittiest Way to Grow Up
The shitty things people do to other people? It is only going to get worse. Sure, I think writing about my craptastic, abusive childhood will somehow change something about the future. I hope it will change the outcome for others, but I am also a realist. I know that whatever I do is never going to change anything.
Then my abusive childhood will have been in vain? As if my childhood being crappy would have shown people what they could have done to protect me. But that would require a level of insight I don’t think people have until a child dies. And even then, not many changes occurred.
Then there would have been finger-pointing in the media. Hell, there would have actually been media attention. Not sure that one article in a local newspaper would be considered media attention, but it was something.
Darkness of the Past
Like so many others, my childhood sits in the darkness of the past. Or it did until I decided that shit needed to come to light for me, for my healing. Then I realized that if I went through this, and my story was not unique, my writing about it might help someone else.
My therapist says that it is helping people and that most of the time, I don’t know that it does. Do I need to know that what I write about helps someone else? No, I am still going to write because it does help me.
So change might not happen in my lifetime. But, on the other hand, my lifetime is halfway over, and I just started talking and writing about this stuff. So, realistically it is unlikely that anything will change in my lifetime.
Oppositional Defiance
Does that mean I stop? No. There are too many abusers out there that don’t want survivors to come forward. They want us to stay in the dark. It’s a good thing I am oppositional defiant. Because as our voices become louder, it becomes harder for them to operate in the dark.
Although lately, I don’t see abusers needing to hide in the dark. Some proudly show their abusive true colors, and people don’t seem to care, which is extremely terrifying.
I lived a hellish life because of my father’s status in our small town. There was a monster hiding in plain sight. And he still hides in plain site today too.
Small and Insignificant
Seeing how brazen some monsters are in the world today keeps me going. I will keep creating ripples as I toss pebble after pebble (story after story about my abusive childhood) out in the pond (the world at large).
Because to me, that pebble is small and relatively insignificant, but to the critters living where that pebble lands, it is a tidal wave. That’s life-changing for those little dudes, just hanging out beneath the surface, minding their own business, until SPLOOSH!
And that is how something rather small and insignificant becomes something more significant than ever could have been imagined. So perhaps we should celebrate the small pebbles out there causing waves instead of the big rocks perpetuating the status quo.
Being the scapegoat is a horrible existence. And it occurs in other relationships, too, not just parent-child relationships. Please seek therapy if you think you have been or are the scapegoat. No one should go through that alone.
I recommend Online-Therapy.* Encouraging therapy is their first step in healing.
Check out some of my other writings about alcoholism and sobriety. “The Slow Descent to Sobriety” starts my December series about addiction and my journey with sobriety. You can also check out my recent poetry, What Happened to All of My Words??
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