childhood abuse-surviving childhood abuse

Childhood abuse is probably the worst thing anybody can ever experience. It has affected my whole entire life, and if not for this abuse, I would probably have functioned much longer at a normal level. My name is Greg and I have survived it. It was not easy. As a child, my mother was oblivious and my stepfather an alcoholic. Covered in tattoos and loaded with excuses that my mother would go for; this man did not treat her well. He lied to her, cheated on her, and abused us kids. My brother and I tried to tell her and all she did was cover for him, pretending that we were making up lies.

Childhood abuse is a serious problem all over the world. Our stepfather did so many things, from physical abuse to mental and emotional abuse. He would drill us with questions about sexual things, too, and not in a “let’s have a talk” kind of way. It would be random, and sometimes, when he was drunk, things got worse. My dad wasn’t there for us, so it’s not like I had an alternate male role model. Looking back, as an adult, I can truly see how horribly we were influenced.

My childhood abuse grew with me into a teenager, when I went into full tough guy rebellion mode. I did the all-black punk thing, making my peers fear me and blowing off my parents completely. My stepfather was so drunk that he didn’t even miss me, which was a good thing. Getting past childhood abuse by this point was simply avoiding it. My mother knew that I was better off hanging out with my loser friends than being near him, as she continued to pretend that our family was normal. I stayed away and clammed up so I didn’t have to deal with either of them, or grow up.

It was a miracle that I actually graduated high school and went off to college and finally had a chance to think for myself outside of high school dramatics. I finally began to seek some therapy and counseling, plus I got into a good church in my junior year of college. Over time, I’ve come to realize that I didn’t deserve any of that and that my dysfunctional mother who was supposed to protect me was partially to blame, although quite frankly, I still treasure her dearly. She didn’t know what to do, either. I am growing and overcoming it, slowly but surely, and I hope my mom will find a healthier relationship soon. Anybody out there, who need somebody to talk to about this, just shoot me a message.

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