There have been quite a lot of reports about domestic violence on the news recently. I myself was a victim of severe violence. The violence happened to me when I was a little girl. In those days the police would never be called and it was quite normal for a few men to beat their wives.
People seemed to help each other by themselves back then. I lived with my violent grandfather and he would beat my grandmother and me on a regular basis. When he could no longer see because of poor eyesight he would then throw heavy objects at me. He would rarely hit me as his aim was not very good. It was not uncommon for me to suffer every night with this extreme violence.
I would lie awake listening to my grandparents fight until they would finally fall asleep. My grandmother had eight children. She would tell me some horrible stories about my grandfather and what he would do. She told me that she would watch him beat her children. Then the screaming children would watch him beating her. He even beat her when she was pregnant and nursing her babies.
One might think that it is easy to “Let Go” but my grandfather’s Violet behaviour still impacts my life. I never can relax as I think he is going to throw something at me and I must be ready to run. I always expect my mild-mannered husband Bob to throw his dinner plate at me because that is what my grandfather would do if I even touched his dinner. He once threw a cup of boiling tea over me because one of my cousins told him that I was looking at him. I was around seven years old at the time. My grandmother rubbed margin on my burnt chest and belly which in turn made the burn a lot worse. My grandmother took me to the hospital and begged me not to tell the doctor what happened but rather that I’d spilled my tea. The doctor told my grandmother not to give me boiling tea any more. Grandmother also told me not to tell the social worker that poppa had thrown boiling tea on my chest and belly.
I’m having cognitive behavioural treatment at the moment and I’m finding it so difficult having to live through all the abuse all over again. I know that in the end it should help me. I suffered ever so much. Not only did my grandfather abuse me at home for over 15 years but also those young men throwing me on the hard ground and dragging me, touching me and the head-teacher striking me with his cane.
I just wish the horrible memories would leave. I do try to forget and move on but then comes the bad dreams. Sometimes from me there seems to be no escape from the horrors of my childhood.