Been working with a counselor now for a while and planning on talking her about this but I can't keep holding it in... I feel like I'm gonna explode. Sorry, it is really long tho. And really detailed cause I've herd that helps...
It all started with an argument between my parents and I like most of these things often did. There was lots of yelling, fighting, and accusing. This fight wasn't different from any other. It started in the kitchen one night after we had all eaten dinner. I was sitting in the kitchen chair. Mom was sitting in another one across from me crying and dad was standing over me trying to be intimidating and strong like usual. My brother had gone to bed and was probably already asleep like usual and my little sister was still up, running around getting ready for bed. Dad was having her to brush her teeth while our discussion was going on. I just remember there being lots of yelling. We were probably arguing about how I was wrong for treating mom poorly as I often did. I hated her and loved my dad cause he was never around but she would always hit and try to control me and my brother. All I ever wanted was for her to be sorry and take responsibility for her actions and apologize but she wouldn't so I'd often act out or talk back to her. I never listened cause I only wanted them to listen to me. I felt like they never did. Like they didn't love me.
Eventually my little sister was sent to bed and dad told me we were going to his and moms room. We all walked into the room. I was immediately more upset because I knew what was coming next. I started panicking and was trying to psyche myself up saying, there not going to touch me, I'm angry, I'll defend myself, I hate them... Mom sat down at the head of the bed, I stayed close to the door, it was on my left and my back was close to the wall behind me. I remember dad standing across from me. His arms folded, he had a serious look on his face and I could tell he was frustrated with me, with mom, with this whole situation and all the ones before. To him it was getting old. It wasn't unusual and it was becoming normal for him to have to come home and try to make peace between mom and I. I remember he was wearing no shirt, and no shoes, just his grey swim shorts with the zip-style cargo pockets. His hair was still a bit damp and messy from having recently gotten out of the shower. The more we argued, the more I lashed out in anger and told them that I hated them and that they never listened to me or cared about me. I knew a spanking was coming so that made me even more afraid, even more angry... Finally dad went over to the closet. I knew what was coming next. He grabbed the wooden paddle that he had made a few years ago from off a stack of clothes on the top shelf. And told me to pull my pants down and lay face down on the end of the bed. I was getting a spanking. I immediately started to panic. My body went numb and even more anger came over me. I couldn't breathe, I was shaking all over, my face was red from crying and it was covered in snot, all I wanted to do was escape. I didn't deserve this and I wasn't going to get a spanking. I was willing to say or do just about anything to get out of it.
All I ever wanted was for them them to love me and take responsibility for their actions, apologize and say they were wrong for everything past and present but they wouldn't. They would just tell me that I was wrong and they were the parents so they could do whatever they wanted. I knew that was wrong. I knew that they were suppose to love and protect me, support me, and make me feel safe but they didn't. They rarely did. I remember threatening my mom often, telling her that if she hit me again or kept hitting me then I was going to call the cops. She would just tell me to go ahead because either she was allowed to do this because she was the parent and could do whatever she wanted or if I called the police then I would be taken away and she would be put in jail and I wouldn't have a mom. I would be put in the foster system where I imagined myself being raped and abused. "Is that what you want?!" She would ask and I would say "no", of course I didn't so she went right back to hitting me and punishing me for whatever I had done wrong. One time she even gave me the opportunity to go get the phone, she told me that if I wanted to go call then I could. She would let me go but I didn't. I just put my head down and stayed.
Finally after lots of arguing between dad and I, and me trying to talk myself out of getting a spanking like I had gotten so good at doing before dad pulled out the wooden paddle he had made many years ago. I remember the night he made it. We were living with our grandparents at the time. (My moms parents) dad was up in the attic, a room attached to their bedroom that was like an extra room or huge closet. It was being turned into our school room so there was lots of wood and power tools everywhere. It was late one night and dad had found a 2x4 made of soft pine wood. He drew the design, cut it out, sanded it down, and then drilled holes into it. I remember the process. Every detail. It was a joke to them. A joke that he would even make it and be using it on us to spank us and give us "what we deserved". He planned it out literally as he made it and told me how it would work and why he was making it that way. The holes he drilled into it allowed for airflow so it could be swung faster and sting more. Making it smooth made it more aerodynamic and using pine wood made it really light. The handle was long and thick to allow for a good grip. When dad got done making it he got a pen and told my brother and I to write our names on it. We ended up drawing pictures on it as well. I played "connect the dots" between the holes drilled into the wood. I also drew a flower and my brother drew a dog.
Back in the room dad looked at me and told me to shut up, to pull my pants down and lay face down on the bed. I was getting a spanking. I started panicking and told him no! I wasn't going to do that and he couldn't make me. I wasn't going to get a spanking! He told me yes I was, the yelling started again and he got super angry. That's when he grabbed me and we started wrestling. he was trying to drag me over to the bed and pin me down on it but I wouldn't let him and i was fighting back. It seamed like forever to me, that entire moment but he quickly tripped me by sticking his leg out and shoving me down over it and slamming me onto the ground. That's when everything stopped. I just laid there terrified. "You think your strong huh?" He said. I was just terrified, crying, and laying on my side facing the wall. My body hurt and my pants were pulled down a bit below my butt. My underwear were still up but he had managed to get my shorts down in the middle of us wrestling. I just laid there for what seemed like forever before I finally got up and pulled up my shorts. I felt incredibly lost and alone, afraid, like no one cared, like I was worthless, just a piece of crap to them, a problem that had to be dealt with. I was nothing, I was the reason my parents fought, the reason my mom was hurt, sad and crying. Often the reason she wanted to kill herself. She told me that once. If I didn't shut up she was going to kill herself and it would be my fault. I did shut up and that's the night my dad took me for a drive because he needed me there with him or else he was going to do something stupid and I knew what that meant.
Before all this happened I use to be strong and invincible but not anymore. Now I was defeated and crushed. I was nothing now just a piece of crap. I didn't matter to them anymore. I didn't matter to anyone. I had no one. I was alone. No one cared about me and I was nothing special. No one was going to protect me anymore I couldn't even protect myself.i had to fend for myself and so everything alone now no one could be trusted.
Eventually I pulled myself up, fixed my shorts and tried to get out of the room but the door was locked and it slowed me down. Dad caught me and pushed me back away from the door. He got between me and the door and asked me where I was going. I told him I was getting out of there and running away, I hated him. He asked me where I was going I said, idk and I don't care. He just stood there with his arms crossed and a winded smirk on his face. He told me that I had just done all this to myself and that I deserved it. If I had just let him spank me then none of this would of happened so it was my fault. He told me that I needed to apologize to him and mom so I did. I was willing to do anything and say anything to get out of there.
I yelled that I was sorry and that I wanted out. Dad moved away from the door and I went out yelling that I hated them as I walked down the hallway to my room. When I got there I crawled up onto my top bunk, wiped the tears and snot off my fave and put my earphones in. I know my brother and sister had herd it all. They knew what was happening. They had to of. All the fighting, all the yelling, me being thrown down. It was all really loud.
It all started with an argument between my parents and I like most of these things often did. There was lots of yelling, fighting, and accusing. This fight wasn't different from any other. It started in the kitchen one night after we had all eaten dinner. I was sitting in the kitchen chair. Mom was sitting in another one across from me crying and dad was standing over me trying to be intimidating and strong like usual. My brother had gone to bed and was probably already asleep like usual and my little sister was still up, running around getting ready for bed. Dad was having her to brush her teeth while our discussion was going on. I just remember there being lots of yelling. We were probably arguing about how I was wrong for treating mom poorly as I often did. I hated her and loved my dad cause he was never around but she would always hit and try to control me and my brother. All I ever wanted was for her to be sorry and take responsibility for her actions and apologize but she wouldn't so I'd often act out or talk back to her. I never listened cause I only wanted them to listen to me. I felt like they never did. Like they didn't love me.
Eventually my little sister was sent to bed and dad told me we were going to his and moms room. We all walked into the room. I was immediately more upset because I knew what was coming next. I started panicking and was trying to psyche myself up saying, there not going to touch me, I'm angry, I'll defend myself, I hate them... Mom sat down at the head of the bed, I stayed close to the door, it was on my left and my back was close to the wall behind me. I remember dad standing across from me. His arms folded, he had a serious look on his face and I could tell he was frustrated with me, with mom, with this whole situation and all the ones before. To him it was getting old. It wasn't unusual and it was becoming normal for him to have to come home and try to make peace between mom and I. I remember he was wearing no shirt, and no shoes, just his grey swim shorts with the zip-style cargo pockets. His hair was still a bit damp and messy from having recently gotten out of the shower. The more we argued, the more I lashed out in anger and told them that I hated them and that they never listened to me or cared about me. I knew a spanking was coming so that made me even more afraid, even more angry... Finally dad went over to the closet. I knew what was coming next. He grabbed the wooden paddle that he had made a few years ago from off a stack of clothes on the top shelf. And told me to pull my pants down and lay face down on the end of the bed. I was getting a spanking. I immediately started to panic. My body went numb and even more anger came over me. I couldn't breathe, I was shaking all over, my face was red from crying and it was covered in snot, all I wanted to do was escape. I didn't deserve this and I wasn't going to get a spanking. I was willing to say or do just about anything to get out of it.
All I ever wanted was for them them to love me and take responsibility for their actions, apologize and say they were wrong for everything past and present but they wouldn't. They would just tell me that I was wrong and they were the parents so they could do whatever they wanted. I knew that was wrong. I knew that they were suppose to love and protect me, support me, and make me feel safe but they didn't. They rarely did. I remember threatening my mom often, telling her that if she hit me again or kept hitting me then I was going to call the cops. She would just tell me to go ahead because either she was allowed to do this because she was the parent and could do whatever she wanted or if I called the police then I would be taken away and she would be put in jail and I wouldn't have a mom. I would be put in the foster system where I imagined myself being raped and abused. "Is that what you want?!" She would ask and I would say "no", of course I didn't so she went right back to hitting me and punishing me for whatever I had done wrong. One time she even gave me the opportunity to go get the phone, she told me that if I wanted to go call then I could. She would let me go but I didn't. I just put my head down and stayed.
Finally after lots of arguing between dad and I, and me trying to talk myself out of getting a spanking like I had gotten so good at doing before dad pulled out the wooden paddle he had made many years ago. I remember the night he made it. We were living with our grandparents at the time. (My moms parents) dad was up in the attic, a room attached to their bedroom that was like an extra room or huge closet. It was being turned into our school room so there was lots of wood and power tools everywhere. It was late one night and dad had found a 2x4 made of soft pine wood. He drew the design, cut it out, sanded it down, and then drilled holes into it. I remember the process. Every detail. It was a joke to them. A joke that he would even make it and be using it on us to spank us and give us "what we deserved". He planned it out literally as he made it and told me how it would work and why he was making it that way. The holes he drilled into it allowed for airflow so it could be swung faster and sting more. Making it smooth made it more aerodynamic and using pine wood made it really light. The handle was long and thick to allow for a good grip. When dad got done making it he got a pen and told my brother and I to write our names on it. We ended up drawing pictures on it as well. I played "connect the dots" between the holes drilled into the wood. I also drew a flower and my brother drew a dog.
Back in the room dad looked at me and told me to shut up, to pull my pants down and lay face down on the bed. I was getting a spanking. I started panicking and told him no! I wasn't going to do that and he couldn't make me. I wasn't going to get a spanking! He told me yes I was, the yelling started again and he got super angry. That's when he grabbed me and we started wrestling. he was trying to drag me over to the bed and pin me down on it but I wouldn't let him and i was fighting back. It seamed like forever to me, that entire moment but he quickly tripped me by sticking his leg out and shoving me down over it and slamming me onto the ground. That's when everything stopped. I just laid there terrified. "You think your strong huh?" He said. I was just terrified, crying, and laying on my side facing the wall. My body hurt and my pants were pulled down a bit below my butt. My underwear were still up but he had managed to get my shorts down in the middle of us wrestling. I just laid there for what seemed like forever before I finally got up and pulled up my shorts. I felt incredibly lost and alone, afraid, like no one cared, like I was worthless, just a piece of crap to them, a problem that had to be dealt with. I was nothing, I was the reason my parents fought, the reason my mom was hurt, sad and crying. Often the reason she wanted to kill herself. She told me that once. If I didn't shut up she was going to kill herself and it would be my fault. I did shut up and that's the night my dad took me for a drive because he needed me there with him or else he was going to do something stupid and I knew what that meant.
Before all this happened I use to be strong and invincible but not anymore. Now I was defeated and crushed. I was nothing now just a piece of crap. I didn't matter to them anymore. I didn't matter to anyone. I had no one. I was alone. No one cared about me and I was nothing special. No one was going to protect me anymore I couldn't even protect myself.i had to fend for myself and so everything alone now no one could be trusted.
Eventually I pulled myself up, fixed my shorts and tried to get out of the room but the door was locked and it slowed me down. Dad caught me and pushed me back away from the door. He got between me and the door and asked me where I was going. I told him I was getting out of there and running away, I hated him. He asked me where I was going I said, idk and I don't care. He just stood there with his arms crossed and a winded smirk on his face. He told me that I had just done all this to myself and that I deserved it. If I had just let him spank me then none of this would of happened so it was my fault. He told me that I needed to apologize to him and mom so I did. I was willing to do anything and say anything to get out of there.
I yelled that I was sorry and that I wanted out. Dad moved away from the door and I went out yelling that I hated them as I walked down the hallway to my room. When I got there I crawled up onto my top bunk, wiped the tears and snot off my fave and put my earphones in. I know my brother and sister had herd it all. They knew what was happening. They had to of. All the fighting, all the yelling, me being thrown down. It was all really loud.
