I will try to make this as short as possible. I grew up with a very abusive parent. My father beat the crap out of my mother and us. We spent nights absolutely horrified. We have been beaten with cable cords, extension cords, tree branches, yes branches not switches. The sometimes bloody bruised would be seen by teachers, other relatives and friends, but nobody ever questioned it, so there was no stopping it. My father in a fit of rage which was usually fueled by drinking would come in at 2:am in the morning, find something wrong in the house like a spoon in the sink and loose it. He would start beating us in our sleep. To be awaken that way, omg, I shiver when I think about it.

I was a bed wetter and he would sit on the side of my bed, wait for me to wet it in my sleep then commence to beating the crap out of me. I loved my father and still do. I sometimes long to see him, especially when the world is against me. When he was sober he was a different person, he would give you the shirt off his back. That's not all of my story, my father tried to stab me with a butcher knife when I was 18, the only reason he didn't was because my oldest sister hit him in the head with skillet. I slapped him after he slapped my mother with a huge glass ashtray. My father was always slapping me at will, not my other siblings just me, and he would never say why. Imagine how that made me feel. I wanted to die and I tried to die. There was chaining of the cabinets and taking out things and giving them away because he said we didn't deserve them, I also grew up with mental and physical abuse from my siblings, they always jumped me and often tried flushing me down the toilet. I fought for my life....and I am still fighting for it.

Now fast forward, I am 51 years old and still live with those memories, still deal with the alienation from my mom and siblings and other family members. I am now dealing with mental issues I never knew existed. I had to make up make believe people just to survive my childhood. Sometimes they pop in my head when things get tough in my adulthood. I'm not ashamed to tell anyone now as I was then. I'm too old and too tired to give a hoot what others think. It's been a rough life, and I know somewhere someone has it worse than me, but this is all I know so this is the worst for me. I even married a person that is mentally abusive, he with holds his affection and attention. This is all I know.

Though I survived this abuse it has stolen the best of me.