I am not sure where to begin so I will likely be all over the place like a little kid hopped up on pixy sticks. I apologize in advance.
My parents both had abusive parents. My dad's dad sexually abused his kids, mostly the girls. My mother's father was verbally and physically abusive. My father and mother met in a bar, another man was in the process of attempting to rape my mother and my father stopped him. It was the 70's and they never reported the attempted date rape.
When I was a baby my mother noticed my father had a bad temper. He would yell, swear and throw things at the slightest provocation but she stayed and had another kid with him instead of taking off. She had poor self esteem so she really didn't think what he did was so bad as long as he didn't hit her.
I think I first realized my dad was abusive when I was 8. My parents had a bad fight and during it my mother ran crying up the stairs and locked herself in the bedroom. My father chased after her with a butcher knife in his hand. I was terrified that my parents were about to kill each other and I called the police. My mother refused to press charges and my father played it off like he was going to use the knife to open the lock to the door, one that my sister and I could easily turn unaided with our thumbs at 8 and 6. After a few instances of me calling the police during the scarier fights with my father throwing things other than swears at my mom, sister and self around he wised up and would rip the phones out of the wall. In later years he would also disable my mothers car after a fight in addition to removing the phones so we could not leave.
My dad wouldn't hit my mom but he delighted in hitting my sister and I for anything. He would tease us, call us names and when we cried he would hit us for crying. Our parents would blame us for their fights. I remember going out once in the wrong sneakers to play in the woods and my father chased me into them and then dragged me back by my hair hitting me every time I slowed down too much. I was so embarrassed because my friends were there to see it. He got arrested for punching me in the face in public when I was 15 shortly after I dropped out of school. My mother told me that unless I told the court that it was the only time I had been hit and that I deserved it that we would be homeless. I did what she said although the person I spoke to at the courthouse didn't look convinced seeing the scars on my arms in legs both from my rough childhood and my own habit of cutting up my forearms when stressed out.
My dad never really touched me sexually as a child but he did weird creepy things that made me really uncomfortable. When I was home sick one day he climbed in my bunk bed and cuddled up to me, it made me really uncomfortable. He started whispering that girls do stuff to themselves and sometimes stick things like carrots or coke bottles into themselves for fun and I should try it. I don't remember how old I was I just know that I was in elementary school still and that I slept with stuffed animals...also...we had 2 liter coke bottles.....imagine the horror and confusion that is somewhat comical in a sad sick way on that one. When he got a camcorder he would zoom in on both my sister and I in the chest, crotch and butt. We were prepubescent, he would say things like "nice tits, look at that ass" and stuff. My mother thought it was a family movie and kept it for years not realizing how wrong it was.
My mother was no saint but her abuse was always mental. My sister and I got blamed for everything. One day she got pulled over driving us to the park and she had an expired license. She screamed at me and my sister that she was going to jail because we wanted to go to the park.
When I was 19 we were homeless but staying at my aunts for a little bit. I attempted suicide by stepping into traffic, I failed (thankfully) and when my boyfriend at the time called my mom to let her know, they all refused to come pick me up so his mom got me and took me home. I got some money from the persons car insurance and I used that to move out into my own apartment. I tried to keep in touch with my parents and even tried to run home to my dad when my first husband started punching me. I lasted two days with him before he got drunk and tried to grab my breast and kiss me in his bedroom. I pushed him off me and locked myself in the bathroom and intended on attempting suicide again but had no means to in there, I got control of myself and grabbed what I could of my stuff and went back to my husband and lasted another year before I couldn't take it anymore and left again leaving myself homeless again and staying on friends floors and sleeping in my car when I couldn't secure something better. Most of my realization other than the initial stuff when I was a kid about the abuse came to me after a nightmare while on my friends couch one night. In it I was being raped by my father while my mother stood there ignoring it and my calls for help. I woke up in tears and it all fell into place. I realized I had to deal with what happened to me in my past before I could have a healthy present or future.
I picked up self help books, I confronted my parents via phone and email, this ended badly. I was called crazy, overly emotional and eventually my mother started to just tell me to get over it and my father started to stalk me online and at one point sent my friends address where I was staying to me over and over via myspace. I changed what contact info I have and started to carry mace.
I cope the best I can. I have good days and I have bad days. I miss the idea of my family but every time I try to contact my mom it ends the same. She just is not stable enough to not hurt me. I love her for the good stuff she did do when I was a kid but the bad usually outweighs it. I can't have the bad in my life anymore. I feel lost and alone a lot. I hurt and ache to tell my mom how something awesome happened to me or something upset me. I miss the illusion to some degree but I do not for a second miss the abuse.
So, um...there is a lot of disjointed stuff that I clenched my jaw through writing. I hope it makes sense, I know I missed stuff but there is just so much and I get emotional talking/writing about it so for now this is the best I can share.
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