Have you seen the movie Precious?
My gawd. It's hard to watch. This poor child. She had no chance in this world.
In her own world she was looked down upon. And when I say her own world, I mean her world in Harlem.
She could not read or write. She had a mother who abused her physically and emotionally. A father who raped her and gave her two children, and ultimately HIV. Her mother knew it was going on and let it happen so she wouldn't loose her husband. Yet her spirit was stronger than the people who were trying to hold her down, as if they had a rope round her neck pulling her to hell with them. Misery loves company I suppose.
No child should see or be the victim of any type of abuse. I think we can all agree to that.
When I was a child I saw my mother abused in many ways. I saw a man who she married beat the livin shit out of her. I saw him pounding her head on the floor like she was no better than, well, no better than anything living. I snuck out the window of my bedroom to go get someone to call the police. I was 11 years old. Scared to death. A neighbor called an ambulance. I went to school the next day not knowing if my mother was dead or alive. I was scared her husband would come and get me at school and kill me. When I got home from school my mom was sitting on the couch with black eyes and bruises. Beat to HELL. Her husband vowed to never do it again....ummmm ok.
So for months and months, I would not go to sleep until I knew they were asleep. Sometimes it would be midnight. I thought that if I stayed awake I could call the police quicker if I heard him hitting her again. Have you ever in person heard the sound of a fist hitting another human? It's the sickest sound in the world. It is the sound of my nightmares.
I begged my mother to leave him. But I was 11. What can a 11 year old? We lived in another part of Texas away from my dad whom I had not seen or spoken to in months. I didn't know phone numbers to call. I couldn't tell what friends I had. I had just moved to this new town and didn't really have friends.
I was never hit. But I was abused. I was abused with fear. I was abused by a woman who gave birth to me choosing a man over her own child. Fear was my jail.
Eventually my mom moved on to another asshole, but that's a different blog for a different day.
Today I have no relationship with my mother. For many different reasons. I can't afford her crazy. The cost is too high. Call it self protection.
No child should ever be the recipient or view any abuse.
I am an adult now. Forty four years of adult. But inside of me is an 11 year old who is still scared of sounds in the night. Don't sneak up on me, I will jump out of my skin.
I have succeeded in many ways. I have failed in more. I do not use my childhood as a crutch, but it is part of who I am. It is why I survive. It is why I am hard sometimes. Ok most the time.
My own children do not know this story. Maybe someday. Not today.
So watching the movie Precious, I sat in tears. I cried for the story and I cried for myself. I cried for my mother. I cried for children who know fear and hurt.
Peace Out
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