The first time I can remember hearing the word “abuse” was on some type of off brand Jerry Springer Show. The host was explaining the story of this poor boy who had been abused by his father for years. I remember thinking how awful that must be, but then the boy started to explain some specific examples of what he had been through. I don’t remember what the boy said. All I can remember is thinking that I’d been through much worse. It confused me to watch the audience “Ooh” and “awe” as he went on. It was more confusing to hear the host make comments like, “No one should ever have to go through something like that.” As the confusion spiraled into understanding, I started to suspect for the first time that the way my dad was treating us could be called “abuse.”
It sounds strange, but before then we could only call what he did “lectures.” Even the term “yelling” was too harsh and would send him into a rage. In my understanding of language, a lecture was when he became angry and unreasonable. It meant he wouldn’t stop his words or his aggression until you agreed with everything he said, even if it meant admitting that you were nothing. The more you resisted, the more angry he would become. Too much resistance meant pain somewhere in your body or watching the only people you loved get tortured. It was always easier to be the recipient of the pain in his “lectures.”
“Abuse” seemed more fitting, but it also didn’t have just one meaning. If I were to tell someone that my dad was abusive, I wouldn’t want them to think I was something like the boy on the screen survived. Don’t misunderstand, what happened to him was not right, but it was not the same either. The word “abuse” seemed too broad to describe the hell I was trapped in for what seems like an endless time. Still, it was the closest word that I had.
When I was starting high school, I became more comfortable using the word and my dads anger became harder to hide. People at church started to suspect who he was. A few even witnessed it! I thought this meant things were going to change, but it turns out it is easier for people to do nothing than to try to help.
A boy from the church reached out to me and told me his birth dad was also abusive. He explained that his dad would get mad often and once even pushed him against a wall. His dad left bruises on his arms and it was the final straw to make his mom leave. He lived with his mom, but his older brother stayed behind. As he told me, I remember instinctively rubbing the spot where the rib cage fuses on my chest. My dad often left bruises here because in children it is not fully bone and is therefore very painful. I couldn’t use the same word to describe my dad. I had survived many bruises and I was last in the order of who got hurt.
The same boy’s older brother reached out in a different way. He ended up suggesting that I read 1984 by George Orwell. It is a classic book which ends up describing a method of control over a nation. Interestingly, I was familiar with a lot of the corrupt methods used to control people. The most interesting to me was robbing people of any language that might allow them to speak negatively about those in power. The story inspired me to find the other language I may have been robbed of and find a way to explain what my dad was. A monster.
When I became an adult, I learned that it is very typical for abusers to rob their victims of language that would be used to seek help. The best explanation of abuse (also called domestic violence) I have come across is from the National Domestic Violence Hotline. It states that abuse is a result of one person trying to control another. In my studies, the same tactics work to keep someone under control; therefore, even though there’s no handbook that explains how to terrorize your family, abusers end up using the same tactics. The first step I took towards freedom from this control was finding the words he had stolen.
Note: This is a true story about events that have not been embellished. While comments are welcome, they are screened to maintain the integrity of the site, prevent foul language, and prevent spam. All comments submitted from real readers will be published even if they are disagreed with.
If you or someone you love is experiencing domestic violence and seeking help, please visit the Domestic Violence National Hotline.
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