Breaking Free from Abuse: My Journey to Healing
Anonymous Writer
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Domestic Violence, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm, Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Intergenerational Trauma, Alcohol Abuse
Growing up, I faced a barrage of abuse and violence at home. From the young age of eight, I found myself shielding my mom from the fallout of my dad's aggression by being her emotional support system. Unknowingly, I took on the role of a caregiver, sacrificing my own well-being. My dad's behavior was also harsh towards me—he had locked me out of the house at night as a form of punishment, threatened me with physical violence, and locked me into a room to cry multiple times when I was crying instead of being there for me.
As I entered adolescence, the situation worsened. One disturbing moment that I’ll never forget: my dad wrapped his hands around my moms neck to choke her and I pleaded for him to stop, resorting to threatening self-harm to intervene. He did not care if I self harmed proven by his actions to not stop hurting her. It was a stark realization for me that his love for me was nonexistent, leaving me emotionally distanced from him.
My grandparents, I love them. It hurts my heart to remember how as a teen I begged on my knees in tears in front of them to please DO something. Please stop him from hitting my mom. They wouldn’t do anything.
Despite the turmoil, I kept silent, obeying my mom’s plea to conceal our family's suffering. At the time I thought reaching out for help would exacerbate the situation, break our family and ruin our reputation. My mom convinced me that keeping the family together and maintaining our reputation was more important than emotional and physical safety. I loved her, and I trusted her judgement.
During High school, the violence at home subsided, but the scars remained. My dad resorted to being overly controlling in my life by keeping my own bank cards locked away, under his control. He continued to make hurtful comments towards me. I still remember comments like, “if I knew you were going to be like this, I wouldn’t have had you” and “no man will ever want to marry someone like you.” I got into my first relationship and became the toxic individual as I mirrored my dad’s abusive traits towards my partner. I’m at a loss for words to describe the emotional suffering I caused my partner. I could see my dad when I looked at me and I hated it. I did not understand how I could act like the person I swore to never be like. I turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms like drinking to numb the pain.
Then at 19 years old, after my first semester in college, I dropped out.
At the age of 20, I faced physical abuse from my dad. He was beating me up until my brother pushed him off. Summoning up the courage, I called the police. Having 5 grown men show up at my door was intimidating in itself and being vulnerable with them was even harder. Their response to my abuse lacked empathy as all they told me was that I could press charges or move out. After leaving home, I lived independently for six months before considering returning home to pursue my career aspirations without the financial strain of renting. It was a risky decision but to this day I know I made the right choice.
Now at 23, the aftermath of abuse continues to manifest in my mental health struggles, making pursuing an education a daunting challenge. Many thoughts about dropping out have loomed over me, and many breakdowns occur due to my overwhelming emotions, lack of positive coping mechanisms and lack of self regulation methods. Yet, through perseverance, I sought help outside my family circle. In addition to friends, professors and school counsellors have become pillars of support, guiding me towards healing by providing resources and encouraging me to keep striving towards my dream career. It wasn't easy for me to admit to my professors that I was struggling with anxiety. I felt like they wouldn't care. However, I came to realize that I needed to try to seek help for myself. Trying to seek help was the best I could do for myself even if it came with the risk of not getting the response I had hoped for from my professors. I cannot stress this enough: seeking social support during tough times has always been incredibly important in my journey to better myself.
Reflecting on my dad's own traumatic past, I now understand the cycle of intergenerational trauma. As I pursue a career in Psychiatric Nursing, I'm dedicated to breaking this cycle to heal myself and prevent the passing on of the effects of my trauma to future generations.
Regarding my relationship with my dad, I still live with him and put in the effort to minimize our interactions. I no longer feel love for him. Instead, I see him as a provider of basic necessities like food and shelter. I also feel pity for him, recognizing his enduring suffering from childhood abuse and his failure to heal. However, I don't see his traits as a part of me anymore. I strive to overcome my mental health struggles and ensure they don't affect others, setting myself apart from him.
My healing journey will extend beyond my college graduation. I recognize that leaving this toxic environment is essential for me to fully realize my potential. However, until that time comes, I remain committed to striving, healing, and focusing on self-improvement, even in the presence of my dad. I've learned the importance of reaching out for help and the power of education in fostering healing. Learning more about myself through reading books, and from other individuals is invaluable to me. Every day presents its challenges, but with each step forward, through healing myself, I pave the way for future generations to heal.
