How Excuses…

Are justified to serve the abuser. I had a great conversation with my bestie today & realized while talking to her how my parents justify their behaviour towards me. I was nearly killed by my father over a wine bottle I wanted to pour down the sink.

It has left me with neck & shoulder issues that will never go away. In college I went out to a bar one night & this catty, bitchy girl spilled beer on my sweater, she acted like typical abuser & blamed me for wearing the sweater, that somehow that made it my fault. That’s the most atypical abusers act, by blaming the victim because the victim wanted it to happen.

That justifies their violent outbursts & somehow convinces them that their actions where justified. That’s how abusers work. I know my mom goes around & tells people how dangerous I am & that I deserved to be nearly killed by my father. That way she can sleep next to him at night. Something I would Never had stood for if it was my daughter.

But let’s go back to the beginning, when I was in high school & grade school my father would tell me how worthless I was & then tell me that “no one would believe” me because I wasn’t physically being hit. It was full on psychological abuse & to this day I believe that he wanted me to kill myself in high school.

That way he could still have my “perfect” sister left & wouldn’t have to deal with me. So, when the assault happened when I was 23 I wasn’t surprised by his violence or how close he came to killing me. Let’s just say he had been threatening me for years. I remember being in the ER & the nurses & doctors telling me I wasn’t safe at home.

I cried not because of what they where saying but because I finally had proof of his violence & my mom’s ability to enable him to do it. I still have mental scars from my childhood & I hate chamomile tea with a passion. He didn’t just spill beer on my sweater but he actively tried to kill me.

The difference is now I am believed & I no longer have to “pretend” that my family life was or is somehow “perfect.” Because ever since I was a little girl & the abuse started my life hung on by thread. In high school I started to believe that suicide was an option, anything was better than my home life.

I no longer need to covet or to lie because I am believed & that’s more important than pretending my sacred childhood was somehow sacred. Because to me it was a fight everyday to stay alive no matter how bad it was in school or at home.

Do you spill beer?

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