Reflections in My Mirror–Not Always a Bed of Roses

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I have been looking in my mirror a lot lately and some areas of my life are very painful.  I always felt very alone and helpless in some areas of my childhood.  My grandparents and my mom knew, but all they ever did was console me following a very hard whipping.

I can remember very angry whippings from my dad when I was near first grade and they continued until I was 17 years old.  It seems I would do something that would just set my dad off, he would get very angry and whip me very, very hard. I would go to my room and weep and cry until I could hardly breath. A few times I cried until I vomited.  My mom would usually come in and hug me and tell me she loved me.  A couple of times mother actually told daddy there was no use whipping me so hard.

I am now 65 years old and the deep feelings of why I was whipped so many times has never left me.  Actually, over the years I have hardly spoken of this subject, but it is part of my life story. My grandparents knew, but in the 50’s no one interfered. I always felt my dad was a good man, but something about me made him loose it.

I was 17 yrs. old the last time my dad whipped me over the back and hips.  We were washing a car together and actually having fun.  He was teasing me by flinging water on me.  I thought this was fun and I sprayed him a little.  Before I knew it, daddy was coming at me yelling and hitting me across my back with his hand. I tried to run and he hit me harder.  I knew in my heart that I was not going to take this anymore.

I went home and told mother what had happened.  I packed my school book, clothes and went to Granny Woodrum’s house where I stayed for several weeks.  I remained at Granny’s and calmed my spirits and found peace from being there.

Many years later….after I was married and had grown children my dad asked me to forgive him for all the things he did to me.  He had a heart attack and perhaps thought he was dying and maybe he had though about all this stuff for years.  I did tell him I would forgive him and wondered exactly what he meant when he said “all those things I did to you.”

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One response »

  1. Wow…this is a touching post. I often wonder why I don’t remember too much of my childhood. I don’t know why i have it blocked. I don’t think anything bad ever happened to me, but it is weird to me. Every now and then I’ll remember something and it is always something good. Now that I am older, 39, I have a lot of anxiety and bouts of depression. It started after I had my children? I don’t know if that was a trigger or what?! Sorry I babbled on and on and I am so sorry that your dad hit you like that.

    g.j.

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