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Dealing with a broken childhood… Part 1

This post is about my childhood, and how it shaped the person and mother I am today. It’s not a fairy tale story of buttercups and Daisy, far from it actually. But it’s the truth, MY TRUTH!

Most people can look back at their childhoods and remember many fun adventures time’s, birthdays, holidays, exciting memories that last for years to come. Think back to the very first childhood moment you can remember…..

Mine, was being 6 years old sat against a radiator in my bedroom (it was the small bedroom at the front) and being slapped across the face with a plimsolls. You know them black pumps we had to wear for p.e in primary school. Yes it left a big nasty red mark right across my face, my “father” did this for whatever reason of me being “naughty” was. I went to school the next day and made up a lie to my teacher saying how I fell down a tree. Clearly she knew I was lying but still didn’t say a word.

You might be thinking this was a one off…. Nope this was a normal thing that happened in our house, if it wasn’t me or my siblings, it would be our mother. From plimsolls to belts, to wooden spoons, to work boots. Or even a fist. This was “normal” which is isn’t “normal” not even in the slightest.

I used to dread my “father” coming home from work, it meant we weren’t allowed fun, we would all dread what argument was going to happened next. This caused me to have anxiety from the tender age of 8! Yes 8! I would sit up at night and cry, I would work myself up saying I was dying of anything and everything.

We all witness our mother get beaten for no reason other than she disagreed with him on literally any topic, spoke out of turn. Or just because he had, had a drink. When I say beaten, I mean my mother would have to drop us at school in winter wearing sunglasses to cover her black eyes. She would make up excuses, like one of her horses kicked her etc. Yet there’s only so many times you can say the same lie.

People knew what was going on, but in the early 90s it was different than it is now. Domestic violence weren’t such a big deal then, you were your husband property.

I would love to say my mother finally saw sense and left after that, but she didn’t she stayed. I wished most nights for my mother to leave him, to get divorced. I even wished I was adopted and my proper parents would come and claim me.

Like most kids we went on holidays, not like they were enjoyable. Ours would start with a week long argument before we left and than the holiday was the same. Even days out were the same, never truly enjoyable.

Anyways I’ll stop typing now, I’ll write up a follow up part 2 about the rest.

Thanks for reading

20 thoughts on “Dealing with a broken childhood… Part 1

  1. I’m so sorry you had to experience this as a child. I agree that domestic abuse is a lot more talk about now, but there is still not enough being done to help families in this situation. It is incredibly brave for you to speak out about your experience and I hope you now have the support in place to work through the traumas of your childhood.

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  2. Ah, that was tough to read. I’ll never understand how an adult hurts a child. My dad used to drink quite heavily when I was a child and we never knew what mood he would be in when he got home – it made us all feel very tense, all the time. I know it’s not anywhere near the same as what you’ve experienced, which is beyond comprehension. Your poor mum and you guys for having to sit and watch (and endure) it all 😦

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  3. I can’t say my childhood was ever as bad as yours. I am thankful that my parents enjoyed the occasional drink and were not heavy drinkers. Although, when my mother died, my father would come home Drunk at the weekend. We knew we had to be out of his way, out or in bed by the time he got home. We were older when that happened, but he never beat us; he was just in your face and you got an earful.

    Thanks for Sharing

    John M

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  4. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt as a child. I remember witnessing my school friend at the time being hit round the bum with the plastic hoover pipe with her two brothers behind her standing in line waiting their turn. I was so distraught I ran out of their house and went home to tell my mum.

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  5. This reminds me of many bad habits my father had as well and it really does shape the kids who grow up like that in a different way than others. I am sorry you had to go through all of that.

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  6. This broke my heart. Abuse comes in so many forms and you clearly suffered tremendously. I know it won’t be easy to forgive and forget but may writing be your first journey toward healing.

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  7. This is Awful 😦 I know It’s not easy to forget this kind but I really hope your blogging journey is help for you to get better 🙂

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  8. Am so sorry you had to endure all that and just hope time heals the memories. I hope you find some comfort in your blogging journey and hope it will easy some of the pain.

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  9. It was a different time indeed when parents would normally employ a military discipline to their kids…. but some parents really are mentally and emotionally unstable and that they punished kids which is unacceptable…..i admire your bravery for sharing this…. I hope it will unload your grief….

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  10. You are brave girl !! Speaking your heart out takes a hell lots of gets at such a forum !!!! I hope the bad phas eof your life has gone !!! Leave the past ! I always remember the old Chinese saying yesterday is history !!! Tommorow is a mystery !!! Today is a gift, that is why it is called it is called present !!!
    Live your present !! The world is ahead!!!

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  11. I am so sorry to hear that you went through this. It is tough to read and I can’t even imagine how you would have felt. More power to you and I admire you for talking about this.

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