Physical Abuse
Physical Abuse—any intentional act causing injury or trauma by way of bodily contact.
Abuse—a misuse of power intended to harm or control another person
Psychological Component
Psychological Emotional Mental
Psychological Abuse—Verbal threats, intimidation, isolation, and humiliation. Control of daily activities and money. Stalking (repeated unwanted contact). Manipulation of children in order to instill fear in an adult partner.
Emotional Abuse—It unfolds as a pattern of behavior over time and aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity of self-worth, and often results in anxiety, depression, PTSD, suicidal thoughts and behaviors.
Mental Abuse—Verbal abuse, yelling, swearing at and insulting you
Rejection; your thoughts, ideas and opinions
Gaslighting, manipulating the truth, where you doubt your own feelings
and thoughts
I’ve written about neglect. It was rather easy to isolate. But when it came to physical, I couldn’t isolate it. I had to discuss the psychological component with it.
Face it, when someone physically hits, 1 hit, 5 hits or 10 hits, there are words with it. You don’t feel the hit and then silence. It’s Bam, you had better never speak to my wife like that again! Or Bam, you stupid idiot, now go get those 5 blades of grass that you did not rake up. Something stupid like that.
Speaking of stupid. Did you know you can condition a baby not to cry? Years ago, I read a story on abuse and that is exactly what happened. The father would get home from work to a crying baby, and he would beat it and it learned, was taught, was conditioned like Pavlov’s dogs, not to cry. As I remember that baby was less than a year old. It baffled the social workers and the public.
You’ve seen it, you’ve read the stories. The little ones with black eyes. Busted little ribs. New busted ribs with old, busted ribs that had healed. Healed leg and arm breaks. Cigarette burns. How can a mother invite a new boyfriend into her life and then the boyfriend ends up beating her child to death?
What would make a grown man or woman throw a baby against a wall? Because it cries, because it is not their child? Is it because they are frustrated with their station in life? Are they a bully? Where are they in the self-esteem department? Mental illness?
Here I will direct you to the Mayo website and then I will address my own experience. www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/child-abuse/symptoms.causes/syc.20370864
It takes you to the child advocacy center and gives an overview of child abuse. Under Parental Behavior is the behavior of an abuser.
Each situation has its own dictates, variables, and factors and I will address some that pertain to me.
What would make a person hit me, at the age of nine, upwards to over 50 times with an extension cord?
To start, I was physically, psychologically, and sexually abused. I also suffered from neglect.
A big part of my abuse bordered on one of my abusers showing her husband that she had control. That the secret would be safe. She wanted to impress(him) the fact that he was safe. That that little bitch won’t open her mouth. Watch me.
I remember one time I got beat in the kitchen. I was trying to fight to get away. My throat was put in between her legs, and I could not move. She was becoming winded, and her husband stood back watching and conversed with her a little through her windiness. When it was over, I got to my knees and said, “Mama, please come from your grave and help me”. They laughed.
I remember one time I was in the middle of a beating, but I broke away and made it to the door. I ran to my play godmother’s house. Uh oh, of course the house I ran from must know where I am. Back there I went. Now we’ll discuss this and talk it out. No. Let’s continue that beating.
One night I was in the bed sleep. Her husband came to my room and woke me up. He gave me a box with some chicken in it. He left. I’m standing there with a chicken breast and another piece. I was a kid. Give me a leg. I knew who liked the chicken breast. I put that box in the refrigerator and went back to sleep. I checked the fridge in the morning, and it was gone. I imagine, that was worse than one of his sexual abuse visits. Because she had to ask, where is my chicken? I’m sure he had some. It was explained to her. Her’s was in the back of the house. That was a beating on the backburner just for going back to sleep. I’m glad it was in the refrigerator and not with me.
A reasonable question. Your brother, your big brother stayed right downstairs. Why didn’t you run down there? Because if you give me a dime not to tell mama that is one thing. But I knew how to curse. Behind mama’s apron strings, honestly, you could shut up talking to me. Now, because of abuse, there may be an episode at school. Somebody says, to brother, she is in school unruly, and she has a smart mouth. Now I am the total bad guy. Now he’s ready to hit me. He knew my mouth, no matter how stifled it was now (then). In 2007, before he passed away, we talked about the things that happened.
As I see it now, I was put in the path of a child molester, and he had a blocker who rivaled the center for an NFL team. Me and little brother sat on the floor at dinner time. She and her family sat at the table.
What would make a person hit me up to 50 times with an extension cord?
Somebody rarely left the house. Madison Ave. was 2 short blocks away from our apartment. One day she walked up there, and I had to go with her. We were on our way home and we encountered Bobbi and Jackie Blanchard, as I remember the last name. They had a brother Curtis and I think another little brother. These were 2 of the prettiest girls on Tripp St. Their young bodies didn’t look like they had kids. Bobbi had on this nice black leather jacket and loud lemon-yellow pants. And Somebody, who was 250-300 pounds now, had to stand there and shoot the breeze with 2 people that looked pretty promising. What would make a person hit me upwards to 50 times with an extension cord until they got tired?
Going back to the Mayo website, with behaviors exhibited by abusers.
- Shows little concern for the child.
There was a library right up the street on Pulaski and Wilcox. Couldn’t go. There were sports after school. Couldn’t go. There was a tap-dancing class at the Off-the-Street-Club. Nope. I saw a telescope in the store window. Couldn’t have it. I need clothes. Couldn’t have money. I was being sexually abused. Wouldn’t stop it. There were piano lessons downtown. No. Just dreary immediate surroundings.
- Uses harsh physical discipline.
- Severely limits the child’s contact with others.
- Offers conflicting or unconvincing explanations for a child’s injuries or no explanation at all.
In this instance, she had carte blanche to treat us any way she wanted. She did not have to answer to anyone. Couple that with seclusion and that put my mother’s 2 youngest in a very daunting situation.
I want to address, Uses Harsh Physical Discipline.
Disciple—A follower or student of.
Discipline—to train to obey rules using punishment to correct disobedience.
I never felt physical discipline here like I felt in school with that ruler. Remember, hold out your hand, take the 2 licks, now get over there and shut your mouth so we can learn. Living in the environment I was in, all I felt was punishment, just physical punishment aimed at just punishment, no correction. And I guess it could come down to a disciple of what.
Once I left out of the kitchen to go through the dining room and coming the other way Somebody was walking down the hallway to the dining room. We were set to meet by the dining room table. I took the long way around that table. She stopped the moment, tried to explain like we were supposed to just walk and pass without incident (without her embarrassment that I would choose not to come into contact with her). So physical abuse is not just physical, it was also emotional abuse. It was vile and wicked; she knew about her husband’s visits. And I also wonder, when she ran away and the dust settled could my mother have said something like, “We’ll see if the baby girl (me) can graduate high school.
I was looking at Cold Case Files. There was this father, sperm donor, or whatever, who had a wife, son, and daughter. His name was Bill Major. The wife’s name was Marlene. The wife found out that he was sexually abusing the kids. I think she actually saw his mouth on the son. She let him know she would be leaving and taking the kids. She disappeared. He killed her and took the kids and the molestations continued. He ended up remarrying and the girl told her stepmother what was going on. He found out and took her to this mobile home he knew about and grabbed her by her hair and threw her in. He put a gun to her head and told her to keep her mouth shut! Another of the threats were to both of the children. To the boy it was said, that if you ever tell anyone I will kill your sister and of course, he told the sister he would kill her brother. Wow! Fear of reprisal may bring out a gun or an extension cord.
Then there’s the shame. Whereas the abusers control led them to feel some sort of pride and honor, I felt shame. I was a kid, and although I couldn’t professionally diagnose my situation, I did experience shame that I could recognize. Starting school, I was normal. I had clean, up to date clothes and combed hair. I was not one of the dirty clothed, long dirty untied shoe stringed kids. Some of them were my friends so no I didn’t make fun of them either. If the dirty Charlie Brown kid is in your class, he just is. But as the tide shifted, there was shame when I saw the girls in my class with mothers. Their hair was conditioned and combed, that’s how I knew they had mothers.
Additionally, there was the shame of the sex secret. I just knew I was the only one. I never felt the need to say, ‘let me ask you something, are we alike in that, is someone having sex with you?’ I don’t think so. That’s taboo however prevalent sexual abuse may be, and out of bounds, especially for a 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th grader.
On so many levels, physical abuse is not just physical abuse. The psychological component is usually there with it awaiting its role in the fray. The psychological component allows, rather dictate for you to keep the secret. Why? Look at its components. Diminish self-worth. Depression. Thoughts rejected. Doubt your own thoughts. Your daily activities are controlled. You’re isolated. Keep the secret—who are you going to tell, your friends, who have money in their pockets and decent clothes because someone cares for them. And no one cares for you. Sounds like further isolation.
Shame—not sharing your thoughts because they are embarrassing and shameful; it’s easier to shut people out—dictate.
Not only that but you are on the road to growing up and you lack a certain continuity of things. That is, you’ve done something that a grown person has done but you can’t vote or stay up late. You want to be a mini-grown up but not like that. Even your continuity was violated.
Physical abuse is much more than physical. How can you go without humiliation when your yearning for emotional well-being nets you fear, with anger, sadness, and disgust that you don’t have the ability to properly manipulate. In the long run hindsight is 20/20, but that is depressing because the young you let yourself be abused because all you had to do was xyz.
And your mental has questions. Predominately WTF is this? I have to go to school to be smarter than everybody else, but I’m called home from school, so you can go to the bar in the afternoon. And I’d better not say anything or tell anyone. I have homework tonight and tonight someone may come to my room, and he is your husband. I would sure love a ten-speed bike, but Christmas does not come for me here.
I think, let’s say I could go back in time. Before I left, I was told, 2 times a week a person would hit me with a big belt, 10 times per session, for no reason, until I was 18 years old. Despite that, I would excel in school, with proper tools for the mind, body, and soul without being abused and neglected in the home.
Just putting this out there.
A person that has not suffered abuse—hit me twice a week, ten times each session. Are you crazy?!!!…?!!! However, an abused person may go for it. At least it is somewhat understandable to someone who has been hit over and over again. It could go “just 2wice a week, 20 right. Then everything else will be normal? Ok.”
Today, I am a grown woman and I do know that we are not to be subjected to any kind of abuse. But I will say that once upon a time that would have been an offer that I would have accepted for it would have made my life somewhat normal compared to what it actually was. It would be like going to a less abusive home. An abused person would settle for less abuse anytime. For less of the physical and psychological components of abuse.