Triggers

I have tried to remove triggers from my life as much as I can.  But today….I saw a post by secretangel.

A picture of a little girl with a black eye was posted.  I was seeing myself…so many years ago.

I was six years old the first time my mama gave me a black eye.  I remember running away from her and hiding under the stairs.  The sheer terror I felt when I saw her walking by is as vivid today as it was back then.

I had just started school and when the teacher saw my face, she asked me what happened.  I protected mama by telling her that my older sister had hit me in the eye with a baseball.
My mamas’ hand print was clearly visible on the side of my face.  Every one of her long fingers left a bruise.  The teacher just looked at me and walked away.  She didn’t do a fucking thing.

When I was older, mama threw a cup of scalding hot chocolate on my leg.  The skin on my thigh was burned off.  When I went to school, my science teacher noticed me fiddling with my skirt.  My slip was sticking to the burn.  She took me to the office and put some salve on it.  She never asked me what happened.  She just bandaged me up and she never did a fucking thing.

In high school, my teachers and the other children could see the bruises and bloody cuts on my legs, left by the buckle of a belt.  They could see the blood on my back, coming through my blouse from the cuts left by that same belt buckle.  The other children made fun of me.  They stayed away from me.  None of them ever did a fucking thing.

The neighbors could hear my screams.  They could see me running out of the house and mama catching my by the hair and beating me…right in front of them.  They never did a fucking thing.

This will always be a trigger for me.  On the rare occasions when I actually leave the house, I notice little children who are about six years old.  I look at their little faces and picture black eyes.

I used to wonder how mama could hit me so hard and so many times.  I used to wonder how she could look at me and not feel like a monster.  How could she not feel sorry?  How could she not feel ashamed?

I used to wonder what I could have possibly done to mama to make her that mad.  Of course, I know now what I did but I didn’t know then.

I was talking to my oldest sister about it one time.  She remembered it.  I asked her if she could imagine anything her son could do that would make her hit him so hard that she blacked his eye.
She said “you didn’t get anything you didn’t deserve.”  Then, she said “and then you went to school and told the teacher that I did it.”  When I asked her if that was really the point, she said “like I said.  You got what you deserved.”  The whole concept was lost on her.

I remember when every one of my children turned six years old.  I looked at their precious little faces and tried to imagine how I could possibly stand it if they were looking up at me through eyes that I had blackened.

I know things are different now.  You can’t even scold your child without a visit from the police or child protective services.  Children are still abused but at least there is a concerted and public effort to end that abuse.
It just came too late for me.

I can’t help but wonder how different my life would be if I had been loved and cherished by my mama and daddy and sisters or if somebody had removed me and put me with somebody who would have loved me.

Who knows what I could have been?  Who knows what I could have done?  Maybe I could have been the first neurosurgeon in my hometown, like I always dreamed of being.

Maybe I could have not only heard…but actually been able to say those three words that I came to despise.  Maybe I wouldn’t carry the sting of mama asking “what in this round world have you ever done to make anybody love you?”

Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up with a man who made me feel the same way my mama made me feel…like I was less than nothing.

 

 

54 thoughts on “Triggers

  1. Pingback: Triggers | justiceforkevinandjenveybaylis

  2. You are very strong Laurel!! You came out strong and broke out of that cycle. That’s the biggest achievement. Sometimes there are shit people around who give pain to people around them. But you didn’t give in to it and survived, loved your kids and made everything better. You should be proud of yourself. What you couldn’t achieve, your kids will. Or their kids will. But always know that you were the one who started it and made everything better.
    Lots of love to you, you are a very inspiring person 🙂

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  3. How utterly horrible. I can’t imagine having survived that and had the biggest heart you did. Yes, you married loser but you got beautiful children out of it. Children that you didn’t abuse but loved and provided the best you could. You are my shero

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  4. Pingback: DV Awareness Day #5: TRIGGERS Are Real | The Abuse Expose' with Secret Angel

  5. 💔 my heart breaks for the precious little girl inside of you. Give her all the love you needed. Sending you a big,warm hug with all the love in my blue heart💙💙💙

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  6. I’m speechless…but I know where you’re coming from.

    I was six when I finally told (and showed, in detail) my ‘parents’ about the sexual abuse that was being done to me. They looked at me like I was a disgusting piece of filth…and didn’t do a fucking thing.

    The abuse continued until I was 12 and put an end to it myself.
    😦

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  7. Dear Laurel, I am so sorry that this happened to you as a child and as an adult… and sorry too that even my posting triggered such unpleasant memories. I never would have wanted for you to suffer from the picture that I used. Child abuse is despicable and what you endured at the hands of your own mother is absolutely horrible. No child nor anyone should be hit like that. And no one should ignore the signs of abuse on a child. Too much is hidden behind closed doors and too many do not want to get involved. Over the years, some things have changed and many are now mandated reporters… teachers and school personnel; doctors, nurses, and other health care workers; social workers and counselors; police; and even child care workers. I have recently heard that laws are changing in come states that even spouses of abusive parents are mandated to report the abuse or can be charged also in the abuse as an accomplice for failing to report. Also, the comment by your older sister just broke my heart. No one deserves to be hit. No one deserves to be abused. There is a huge difference in punishment for wrong doing and abuse such as this. She is wrong. I pray for God’s healing and restoration for you. I pray that you will no longer be triggered by things of your past but that you will be empowered to speak out and inspire others to report abuses and help the innocent. It is only by speaking out and expose the horrors that you endured that other children can be saved from this nightmare as well. God bless you!!

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  8. I couldn’t like this either, no matter your eloquence in telling the story. Your mother was a monster, and probably her mother was before her. You broke that, and that’s an amazing feat.

    To make a child feel ashamed of themselves is so cruel To make you believe you deserved to get beat and then to beat you, is beyond my comprehension, as it is yours with your kids. To make you feel that you have to earn love and belonging, is so fucked up, because everyone deserves love and belonging, just because they exist.

    I am guessing your mother had a lot of her own demons, and had no idea how to deal with them. The choices she made were sick, I can’t make excuses for her any more than I can make them for my ex and the abuse he visited on my son. He tried for a long time not to ever hit him, but when he began to drink that inhibition slipped away. (Unknown to me until I was out of the house.)

    I’m so sorry. But as someone else said, you are a pretty amazing woman, despite what was done to you. I hope some day you can believe that the love you always craved and never got, is inside you anyway. Big hugs….

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  9. I can’t like this, although it is so well written, and you made me feel the hurt and horror and sadness of your 6-year old you.
    I am just so sad, so sorry.
    Hoping for a beautiful moment soon for you, dear one. HUGS.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Sometimes it seems that life is all about luck. The luck of what DNA you get, where you were born, who your parents are, the color of your skin.

    I was lucky enough to have parents that didn’t hit. As far as I know, none of my sisters ever hit their kids. The best thing that can come out of violence is for the cycle to be broken. You did that. And that’s amazing. 🙂

    I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about what I could’ve been if not for the constant pain, but I know other pain patients think about it a lot. I think I would’ve been the same person I am today, just probably nicer. They say that pain makes you stronger… I guess it does. But surely there’s an easier way to be a strong person.

    Maybe the hardest person to love is yourself. I mean, I like myself, but love? I dunno about that. 🙂

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    • It’s really not about nature versus nurture. Loser was all but crowned king as soon as that drunken mama spit him out. He was never abused in any way, shape, form or fashion…yet he was one of the most emotionally, verbally, and mentally abusive people I ever knew….and he wasn’t shy about slapping me or the children. It’s a hard thing to learn to love yourself…or even like yourself when you have been raised thinking you were worthless…and then to be married to a man who, like I said…made you feel the same way.

      Liked by 3 people

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