At age 40 I was told that "More shall be revealed". I thought they meant more about being happy, joyous and free. Well, they obviously did, but along with all that idealism, more was included. I would revisit my early daze time and again, would keep finding out more which I would have loved to NOT know or remember!
AGE about five:
Well do I recall the night when I first realized, "Hey, I didn't get 'spanked' today--not once!" 'Spanking' was the word adults used then for what is now called 'child abuse'. Not a student of psychology, I'll not try to analyze and determine reasons now--for what was then. Were my parents expressing their fears, frustrations, inferiorities in beating us kids.
I do not recall my siblings being beaten as often or as much as I, but with me it was every day once, twice, thrice or more. I am not writing about 'love taps', but spankings which left a red ass even into the next day. My ass was ALWAYS red, but I never would show anyone. At age five, I even then 'had my pride'. Hmft! (And I'll never ever forget 'razor-strap' day. A parent today would certainly go to jail, if found guilty of 'razor-strap' day's activities.)
Here I've gotta say, I've never blamed my parents for anything which happened to me in living my life. It never occurred to me. I happened to be a 'bad boy'. You know, "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa". I was not just always getting into trouble...I STAYED in trouble.
One night happened, when it dawned on me that I had escaped punishment one whole day. I truly thought someone made a mistake. I remember about a year later wondering if I could put TWO non-punishment days together. That did not really happen until I was in high school. Still I say our parents were 'good' to me, and the others--I was the oldest of four.
I remember planning at age 14 to break out, run away, but was threatened with the nearby all-boys school (farm) for 'bad boys'. It was run by some 'bad' catholic brothers (Franciscans!), and I used to gaze at that compound of buildings as if the place was Sing Sing Prison. Petrified, I stared past those severing several miles.
Fear gripped me.
My body chilled to a frozen state.
Shaken, shivering.
I would never go near there. Ever!
(Years after, I visited there, a place of hard work, strict--but reasonable--rules. A place where peace and spirituality abounded.)
In a moment of fairness, I add here that I DID put my parents through hell. At a rather early age for those times I left their home to 'be on my own'--yeah, right!
Four wives later, I realize that 'school for bad boys' would have been a good thing...discipline to form character, it's called.
So yes...more is constantly being revealed!
Little_Innocent_Child in Deviant Art
What hurt me more than the physical, was the emotional beatings, the mind games of a mentally ill parent.
ReplyDeleteTESS KINCAID!
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree, even tried to find a picture expressing that--but what I found was too sad to post for our readership.
smiles. yeah i put mine through hell as well...lucky i never ended up in a "school" but it taught me a few things but so glad i grew up...
ReplyDeleteWhat interesting observations you have and I think you write this post with a fresh and strong voice, there is no self pity, no regret. I admire that.
ReplyDeleteI bet you that school run by the Franciscans wouldn't have been as bad as it must have appeared to a young guy!:)
Wishing you a lovely weekend Steve.
Very good post. I agree, you write without the pity party we all tend to have sometimes.
ReplyDeleteS
SMD!
ReplyDeletePity Party? I was never comfortable at parties--grin! (I have discovered that if one agrees with Colleen, one is right on the trail.)
COLLEEN!
Being schooled by Jesuits, I have that friendly ongoing competitive issue with Franciscans. But of course, NOTHING at that farm-school (Mount Alverno) was as portrayed to me. Thank you for your supportive comments.
PEACE to His people on earth...
BRIAN!
I'm glad you grew up too! I'm still trying--grin
...maybe I'm in that aging group living their downward "back-to-the-womb" path?
shit steve, ain't life grand...?
ReplyDeleteno sex abuse i take it...glad of that, my sweetest of friends on a big bike............. this hurt deeply to read, memories flood back, i find i squint to read words like this, it still hurts 50 years later.. the belt, the switches and branches, the brushes, the words that stabbed, lord, makes me wonder why i am so damned stubborn. xoxox and more to you, no wonder we try to escape when we can...and then some. oh, they sent me to a catholic girls school. haha
can i steal your quote up top? it's glorious. xx♥
ReplyDeleteI apologize for my ignorance, but is this autobiographical? For a moment, I thought it was. I am not sure.
ReplyDeleteI was lucky to have been raised by parents who didn't embrace violence, as a rule. Yes, I did get the occasional spanking, but not a beating, just a swat on the butt. It hurt my feelings, that was about it. I was not a disobedient child. Like some children of alcoholism, I was a very very very good kid. I never stepped out of line. "People pleaser".
As a parent, I was guilty of yelling! YELLING and not being heard. My sons were both bigger than me before they reached puberty.
Children have their own mind. They should never be victims of anger. I wish I could have a do-over, and whisper, not yell. I bet they would have tried harder to listen.
JUST JANE!
ReplyDeleteMost certainly autobiographical. Please understand that I do not ponder daily these events of the past. They ARE past, and intentions were never in question. Ignorance reigned, and does today all over the world. I believe parents in general wish only the best for their children.
I LOVE that! "Whisper, not yell", and people will have to listen, or be uninformed!
PEACE!!!!!!!
LINDA!
Do not know origin of that quote, but it IS special to me. Of COURSE...anything I have is for taking whatever worth there is of it.
Thank you for your understanding remarks above. And, I tell you now--they knew better than to send ME to a girls' school, catholic or otherwise--BIG grin! (I tried to join the Brownies one summer day, age 7......PEACE!
Going, being sent to a aschool for bad boys... It's hard to me to 'see' you as a bad boy, Steve. So I do not agree that's a good place to be.
ReplyDeleteSteve, I am so glad to see you. In my eyes, you are never a bad boy.
ReplyDeleteRNSANE!
ReplyDeleteYou are kind, and I like you here.
PEACE!
DULCE!
I'm a lad
Not sad
Not bad
Just a tad
Too old, too glad
To be such a bad
Lad
What each of us have is NOW, this moment! None other, before or later. Bad and Sad I was not, but had been perceived that way.
We are who we are, as you wrote one day.
PEACE!
The tortured "Little Child Innocent" is embrace by a light in the shape of a heart.
ReplyDeleteI find that comforting.
I'm also comforted that you are able to face the demons of your past and besiege them with love.
... oh, have read up all the posts from you ... everyone has really touched me ...
ReplyDelete... it stimulates thinking of ... thanks Steve ...
Cosima
And as more is revealed I love that you share it with us.
ReplyDeleteI've always loved a good story.
:)
Much love my friend!
JESS!
ReplyDeleteWith your words, you are so good to this old man!
COSIMA!
WELCOME to "Dimensions". If these scribblings are helpful in stimulating another's thinking...then they are probably not written by me--grin! (Do not misunderstand. Yes I DID write whatever is here, OK?) Now everyone should read from you again and again, not wait until May-June, etc.
Glad YOU are here!
FELISOL!
You 'see' everything, woman! Were it not for that lighted heart, I would not have published that picture. Thank you for noticing!!!
I knew it was bad, but I didn't really have the full picture till 21+ years later....now.
ReplyDeleteThat such a beautiful, "good", loving man could have emerged out of such abuse is a testament to the power of God's loving grace.
NO behavior justifies this type of treatment.
There are no mistakes. God put the urging in my heart to come to your blog this morning to read and was then directed to this post.
ME