*** TRIGGER WARNING: The following blog discusses violence against children ***
Perception is king in a small town. If the family appeared normal in the public eye, all was well, regardless of what happened behind closed doors. It’s how my parents operated. Our well-kept home hid the fact that the first eighteen years of my life were a fear-inducing, tension-filled existence.
The sound of Sunday football games on TV still elicits a sick feeling in my stomach
The home was a place where I pretended not to exist. I couldn’t express any natural childlike tendencies, such as joy or exuberance. I would huddle in front of our big box of a TV just so I could hear it. The TV volume was to be kept low unless my parents were watching football. The sound of Sunday football games on TV still elicits a sick feeling in my stomach.
My father once choked me for leaving blue toothpaste spit in the sink. Punishment consisted of smacks to the head. My head was smacked into the walls many times. My hair conveniently hid any bruises or swelling. If he were drunk, he would choke me. My mother did intervene at those times. I don’t know if he would have been able to stop himself. When women are killed in domestic abuse scenarios, it doesn’t surprise me at all. I think it’s just the inevitable progression of those situations.
Growing up, I stayed out of our house as much as possible
I was outgoing (away from home) and very chatty. Growing up, I stayed out of our house as much as possible. Overnights with friends, sports, and after-school activities filled my days. Once I could drive, I spent every holiday with friends or boyfriends. And my parents never said a word. Never once did they ask for my presence at Christmas or Thanksgiving celebrations.
After all this abuse, I begged my mother to leave him, but she never did. She told me he was the love of her life. The man who threatened and belittled her was the love of her life. She didn’t leave him for hitting us, but when he embarrassed her in front of our neighbors, it was a different story.
The last straw for my mother occurred when she came home after work one day to find my drunk father passed out in the front seat of his car. I watched it unfold in our front room at the bay window.
His car was parked at an angle midway up the driveway. My dad’s legs hung out of the driver’s side door. Fast food napkins fluttered across our green, recently trimmed front lawn. A white and red box from the fast-food chain Kentucky Fried Chicken lay near his feet. Birds had been pecking at it before my mother pulled up. Our neighbors to the left and across the street from our house stood in their yards motionless and silent. I was seventeen.
My mother parked her car and hurried over to him. I opened the front door and walked down the driveway. She screeched at him to get up as I walked by. He had been out there for hours, but I hadn’t done a thing about it. It would be like telling me to poke a venomous snake. She could deal with him.
She kicked him out of the house after this and filed for divorce. My father took his own life a few years later. Relief was my primary emotion at his passing.
So where did this leave me? It led me to a lifelong journey of figuring out how to love and heal myself to stop the cycle of abuse. Lots of counseling and various therapies have helped me tremendously. I had some bumps along the way, but everyone does.
I am, a well-adjusted adult who can talk about their past without crying. I’m happily married, and I’ve raised three wonderful children. My childhood still makes me angry at times, but I’ve largely forgiven both of my parents. Forgiveness happens one thin layer at a time in my experience. I write about my past so others know there is a way forward, you have to choose it.
Photo by Saskia van Manen on Unsplash
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LeeAnn Werner is an author and speaker regarding dysfunctional families. Her books, The Illusion of a Girl and The Illusion of a Boy are young adult thrillers based on her own childhood where she struggled to survive her violent alcoholic father. She hopes her story inspires others to move beyond their dysfunctional families and stop the cycle of abuse. You can check out her webpage and blog at www.illusionofagirl.com.
