Mental Trauma

They argued with such vitriol that they didn’t notice the children standing between them, until the unforeseen happened.

When I think back that’s all I remember. Being a little boy deathly afraid of my father because that’s what he wanted. He spoke loudly on a daily bases to remind my brother and I we were inferior to his being. His size that stood 6’0  high and over 200 pounds, mostly muscle from his high school years of being a star football player.

His eyes were blank when him and my mother viciously argued. My mothers voice powerful for a black woman was unmatched to my fathers. Friday nights were not the glory days  adults and kids awaited for. While Fridays marked the day of freedom for others, Fridays marked the day of trauma and distraught, as it foreshadowed the hell stricken weekend. Paranoia was my best friend that manifested into a deep soulful hate that lived inside of me.

I had thoughts of killing my father for the drunk nights he would come on the weekends. I would stand only a little over 5 feet staring at him with my lips curled in, eyes pinched together, and little fist balled thinking of that steak knife. The enemy would lay passed out on the couch with his sliva peaking out from his lips while snoring.

He would wake me up and my brother up and speak to us from 11 at night till 3 in the morning about nothing. He forced us to stay up while he condemned us for being kids. He would tell us we don’t need any friends and we don’t need family. No one will care for us as his family never cared for him.

My brother and I both less then age of ten and three years apart never knew what a quiet home was between my mom and dad. Deplorable slurs of words clashed between the two giants  violently every weekend for all of my childhood.

 Nights of him sending us in our room crying behind a door while our ears were pressed against it was normal. Unbreakable nervousness rode the thick red water in our veins when he would threaten to break my mothers ankles. Tears of silent prayers ran on our cheeks.

I can’t seem to forget a history that was part of me as I remained isolated disabling the need to express my grief in what I went through at home. As it was “no ones business,” as my father would say, “what happens at home”.

So I developed the ability to compartmentalize the terror for weekends only. This was my only coping strategy although I was unaware at the time. I gained victory in my dreams as a kid when I would beat my father off my mother. Or when I do grave harm on to him falsely giving me courage I never had growing up.

For being so afraid to die in his arms.

Daily Prompt – For Posterity

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26 thoughts on “Mental Trauma

      • These things are indeed so hard to write. I suppose it’s because it’s easier just to forget some things. I used to think that I would want to remember everything, but now I deliberately put things away in a locked box at the back of my mind. It’s so painful to look back to specific moments and wish so much that you had done what you wanted to do but thought you shouldn’t at the time. The greatest crime is silencing children. If you think they’re going to say something they shouldn’t, maybe it’s because you’ve given it to them. Treat them right and they won’t have anything bad to say. I really hope you and your brother are doing better now. Keep writing!

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      • Well done on sketching out the scene so vividly i imagine it is like a movie in your head spinning on repeat, It is wonderful that you have a voice for your work and experiences and your voice is beautiful.

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  7. This was a very deep writing and extremely brave of you to share. “Unbreakable nervousness” just really sticks out to me…it does a good job at describing the pain that a young man feels around his father that most people could never understand. I am sorry you went through so much abuse through your childhood, and I hope you find some sort of peace through sharing your writings. I write for the same reason, although our experiences may differ in many ways, so keep it up!

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    • Thank you so much!

      I do plan on writing a full length memoir about this in detail and get it published.

      It’s was extremely hard just to write this little bit of stuff in comparison to all that I went through. To be completely honest too I think I would find peace with my past through story telling. It’s when I can just cough up the crap mentally like some form of detox/cleanse!

      I’m deeply humbled by your comment !

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  10. I was moved & inspired for this brave writing. I also have hidden grudges & pain towards my Father & just like you I was traumatized for he attempted to beat me which was like 3 years ago before entering college. I can relate how painful it is & how hard to face it. Always be strong & don’t forget your Mom as your inspiration to be brave! May God always be with you! 🙂

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  11. I hate that you experienced this though my father wasn’t their. Not to say that its a balanced situation because neither child should have to suffer from their fathers uncaring ways. Great job with your choice of words and continue to follow through with and you will some day be a Ney York Times Bestseller…. check out a story I’ve put together when you have the time to @
    http://scoopdastreetwriter.com/

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