Rant: Childhood Abuse: The Cruel Lie the World Tells Us

First off this is not a coherent article of writing, this is a rant. It starts off as a thought but violently swerves into wherever my head is going at the moment.

Throughout the abuse I received from my parent I always wondered if there was a reason for this, I must have done something wrong. It is “my fault”, I “angered them’ so its only right they would act this way. It’s kinda funny when you think about it a middle aged person being angry with a much younger and smaller person they made. Like if you were angry at a deer for walking across the road only you made that deer. The world lied to me, it was not my fault at all. It was nothing. The reason was nothing sure it could have been a lashing out against the throes of their life on me or just the ability to get angry at someone but it was just nothing. There was no rhyme or reason for such actions, no lesson being taught just nothing. I started questioning my abuse around 10 when my father tanned my brother’s butt for spilling milk in my mom’s apartment that my father did not live in. It was over nothing, sure my father had a horrific abusive past with his own father but that did not make it right. It never is okay.

My family are now victims of his abuse, everyday it gets clearer what these lasting effects are. The world lied to me, that there was a reason. It lied to me, that fathers always do this. My father is homeless now hopping from hotel to hotel and after I long time I bothered to help him move his stuff. During that he proceeded to berate me and even said he was doing me a favor by doing his stuff as well as try to guilt me into doing it again. I saw a homeless guy on the street today and though two things. One was man I feel really bad for this guy and hope he really gets some help. The second was I wonder if he looks for strangers because his family could not stand him for taking similar actions as my father.

On one hand I feel bad for my father not for the person he is but the person he never had the chance to be. On the other hand I hate him with every being and I reserve my hate for others so that all of it will be directed at him. I will only be at peace when he finally dies not moves because he always tries to come back. into the family. Though my parents are divorced and he has no idea where I live, I am still the scared child.

I struggle with human connection now for fear that I pass and do not resolve the abuse and trauma that was imparted on me. I don’t want to unconsciously hurt someone with my actions or words. I know everything “bad” for what not to do but got no idea of what is “good”.