Everyday I question myself and everything around me. I know I've not been raised right, and when I was 16 I met the man who became my husband. I was a child, I didn't know what I was doing. If only I knew what I know now, I wouldn't be so broken inside.
I've always felt dirty and impure, as if I've done or am something wrong. Maybe its because of all of the years of physical abuse I suffered when I was a child or when I was married. I used to have my body pounded in, while I was told, "Your a bad girl...shame on you...I can't believe how horrible you are!"
I should of been explained that my conduct was wrong and why. You'd think I did something seriously wrong...but I didn't.
I know now I wasn't bad, rather my actions were. However, I still always feel as though I am.
I remember the day my father found a letter I wrote to my friend Jackie. I was sat down at the dining room table and my father pulled out a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. He opened it and began reading the letter out loud. The further he read into the letter the louder his voice got. I knew I was in trouble and I was going to get a beating.
As my father read the letter, I began to cringe..not at the thought of him hitting me, but because the letter did sound awful out loud. Jackie and I wrote in code, we used the word "Satan" to inference a guy she liked, I was called "Salamander" and the name of the girl she was jealous of was "The Big W."
There was no ill intention when we chose these names, it was purely innocent. My friend and I figured if we dropped a letter, no one could figure out who wrote it, who we were talking about or what it is was about.
I interrupted my father as he was reading..."Dad you don't understand...this was in code...."
But he didn't hear me....he began to yell louder and louder...and I became petrified and cringed. I knew I was going to get hit, by the tone in his voice....
"Dad please...I'm sorry...listen to me...JUST LISTEN..." I started sobbing and became hysterical. I could barely breathe....
He roared, "Do you think this is funny!? Are you worshiping the devil? Who is Big W...a witch? Is one of friends involved with Satan?"
My father stood up and I began to move away from him...I moved until I was standing across from him, with table in between us. I figured I couldn't get hurt with the giant dining room table between us.
"Dad its not what it seems...please...please Dad..."
My sentence was interrupted, he pick up the dining room table and flipped it right on top of me!
I began screaming and tried pushing the table off of me....
I then felt two chairs being thrown at me.
I scrambled to my feet...and I could hear my mother in the background, "Take it easy on her Steve!"
My father turned to my mother to reply, and I ran for the backdoor, which led out onto the patio...
"Why don't you mind your own business Patty!" my father hollered back.
My father followed me outside...the gate leading out was locked...so I ran up to the house and punched the blue siding, over and over again. I began shouting, "Is this what you want tough man? Bring it on!"
My father replied sheepishly, "No stop, your breaking the siding on the house."
I ran back into the house and ran out the front door....I was getting ready to run for the road when my father began laughing, "Go ahead and run....I will even give you a 10 second head start, but if you run your gonna pay for it.."
I briefly thought, there's no way he can catch me, he's got a fat stomach and I'm 13 and he's 42...hehehe...he can't catch me.
I ran as fast as I could...
"1....2.....3......4..............10," he yelled.
It may have been 20 seconds when I heard footsteps pounding the pavement right behind me....
I could feel myself slow down because I knew he was going to catch me. The adrenaline and speed I once had, diminished into nothing.
He grabbed the back of my shirt, "I'm sorry Dad...I'm sorry...." I was panting from all of the running and crying I had done..I felt completely exhausted.
"I'm sure you are," he replied firmly.
He lead me back, squeezing my upper arm while I pleaded with him, "The letter was a joke...a bad joke..I'm sorry..."
He didn't hit me when we got back, rather he threw me onto my bedroom floor, told me not to leave my room, that I was evil, a devil worshiper and that he'll pray I don't burn in hell.
I cried for hours...I didn't understand what I did that was so evil...
I prayed and asked God, "What did I do to deserve this?"
I've always felt dirty and impure, as if I've done or am something wrong. Maybe its because of all of the years of physical abuse I suffered when I was a child or when I was married. I used to have my body pounded in, while I was told, "Your a bad girl...shame on you...I can't believe how horrible you are!"
I should of been explained that my conduct was wrong and why. You'd think I did something seriously wrong...but I didn't.
I know now I wasn't bad, rather my actions were. However, I still always feel as though I am.
I remember the day my father found a letter I wrote to my friend Jackie. I was sat down at the dining room table and my father pulled out a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. He opened it and began reading the letter out loud. The further he read into the letter the louder his voice got. I knew I was in trouble and I was going to get a beating.
As my father read the letter, I began to cringe..not at the thought of him hitting me, but because the letter did sound awful out loud. Jackie and I wrote in code, we used the word "Satan" to inference a guy she liked, I was called "Salamander" and the name of the girl she was jealous of was "The Big W."
There was no ill intention when we chose these names, it was purely innocent. My friend and I figured if we dropped a letter, no one could figure out who wrote it, who we were talking about or what it is was about.
I interrupted my father as he was reading..."Dad you don't understand...this was in code...."
But he didn't hear me....he began to yell louder and louder...and I became petrified and cringed. I knew I was going to get hit, by the tone in his voice....
"Dad please...I'm sorry...listen to me...JUST LISTEN..." I started sobbing and became hysterical. I could barely breathe....
He roared, "Do you think this is funny!? Are you worshiping the devil? Who is Big W...a witch? Is one of friends involved with Satan?"
My father stood up and I began to move away from him...I moved until I was standing across from him, with table in between us. I figured I couldn't get hurt with the giant dining room table between us.
"Dad its not what it seems...please...please Dad..."
My sentence was interrupted, he pick up the dining room table and flipped it right on top of me!
I began screaming and tried pushing the table off of me....
I then felt two chairs being thrown at me.
I scrambled to my feet...and I could hear my mother in the background, "Take it easy on her Steve!"
My father turned to my mother to reply, and I ran for the backdoor, which led out onto the patio...
"Why don't you mind your own business Patty!" my father hollered back.
My father followed me outside...the gate leading out was locked...so I ran up to the house and punched the blue siding, over and over again. I began shouting, "Is this what you want tough man? Bring it on!"
My father replied sheepishly, "No stop, your breaking the siding on the house."
I ran back into the house and ran out the front door....I was getting ready to run for the road when my father began laughing, "Go ahead and run....I will even give you a 10 second head start, but if you run your gonna pay for it.."
I briefly thought, there's no way he can catch me, he's got a fat stomach and I'm 13 and he's 42...hehehe...he can't catch me.
I ran as fast as I could...
"1....2.....3......4..............10," he yelled.
It may have been 20 seconds when I heard footsteps pounding the pavement right behind me....
I could feel myself slow down because I knew he was going to catch me. The adrenaline and speed I once had, diminished into nothing.
He grabbed the back of my shirt, "I'm sorry Dad...I'm sorry...." I was panting from all of the running and crying I had done..I felt completely exhausted.
"I'm sure you are," he replied firmly.
He lead me back, squeezing my upper arm while I pleaded with him, "The letter was a joke...a bad joke..I'm sorry..."
He didn't hit me when we got back, rather he threw me onto my bedroom floor, told me not to leave my room, that I was evil, a devil worshiper and that he'll pray I don't burn in hell.
I cried for hours...I didn't understand what I did that was so evil...
I prayed and asked God, "What did I do to deserve this?"
Another chapter, another interesting read.
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