Abusive relationships, Rhianna and Chris Brown

Short and sweet, chris brown is a stupid little punk and should do a couple of years in prison for what he did to Rhianna. IMO he's not an adult, not a man and in reality is nothing but a spoiled little boy who gets angry and hurts people when he doesn't get his way or things don't go his way.

Child abuse, wife abuse and relationship abuse is something I know a lot about. I lived with it daily for the first 17 years of my life. Chris Brown says he lived with it too, hates it and wishes he would have had a different life. Duh, me too.

So little brat chris was raised with abuse. Big f'ing deal, so did I and so did millions of others. He also knows that people who were abused have a 90% chance of growing u to be abusers. He also knows that people who were raised in a family where the mother was abused have about the same chance of abusing women when they get bigger.

Do I feel sorry for brown the baby. Nah, he made a choice and the way he's whining now and apologizing and telling everyone he's going to get help isn't because the little punk believes he needs it, IMO he's saying all of that to minimize the chances he'll go to jail and to minimize the chances he'll loose his career and even more money for advertising deals. At least some sponsors are removing him from the ads he did for them. Kudos to them.

If you've read any of this blog you know I was physically, sexually and mentally abused for a long, long period of time. If you've read any of this blog you also know I made a choice not to have children. I also made a choice not to hit women when I got to be an adult. MOF, I went even farther and have protected women and children for much of my adult life.

I absolutely hate males(I was going to say men but they aren't men by my definition) who abuse women and children. I've put a stop to it many times and have no qualms about hurting the males who are abusing women and children. Lol, in my view they are abusing weaker or defenseless people so I kinda like to teach them how it feels to be abused. To be screaming for someone to stop hurting you and they don't listen. To put them into the feelings of helplessness they put their victims in. To make them afraid they may not live through it. They always do.

I watched my father and my step father beat my mother and a few times I tried to intervene. However my mother was my main physical abuser so I also didn't feel to bad when she was getting what she gave to me.

However there is never an excuse for hitting a woman or hurting a child in any way, shape or form. No matter what they did. When I'm put in a situation where I'm angry at a woman or she hits me I do something everyone should do. I walk away. My anger scares me and I know I need to get away from what's making me angry so I don't do something stupid. Everyone should walk away when they feel themselves getting that angry.

You may have noticed I did capitalize chris browns name. I don't have enough respect for the little boy to do that. I'm also glad to see advertisers pulling his ads and people all over the country reviling the little punk. I'd like to see more of Jesse Jackson, Rev. Al and other black leaders saying this is wrong. OTOH they are political hacks so what would you expect. However I've noticed a lot of women's groups who are recommending not buying his products, any of his music or anything else he may be into. Take the little boys livelihood away from him. Sounds good to me.

Why people expect celebrities to be role models is beyond me but they do. This punk is not a role model unless it's for the Girlfriend Abusers Club. Yes, the punk ought to do time and loose everything he has. No I don't think that's to harsh. He's shown he can't control himself so lets put the little baby away until he learns to control himself. Lol, maybe we'll get lucky and some bad ass prisoners will turn him into their bitch. It's a fate he deserves.

I will NEVER buy a chris brown cd or listen to any cd he happens to be on. I'll never watch a show he's on or a movie he's in. I have nothing but a massive amount of contempt for the little punk and I hope he gets what he deserves.

All I can say is a real man doesn't abuse women or children. NO MATTER WHAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES!

Child abuse stories

Lots of people have child abuse stories and if they are around my age they tolerated it until they either ran away or put a stop to it themselves. They also have a lot of stories of child abuse, just as I have. I told you how I stopped my mother from abusing me and this story will be about how I stopped my stepfather.

I suppose you could call this child abuse vs. discipline but there was no discipline involved. Just anger and child abuse. The emotional child abuse I received from both my mother and stepfather has stuck with me far longer than the physical abuse I received.

While I still have a few scars from my abusive childhood what it affected most was my mind. Beat me, kick me, burn me, lock me away, etc. the physical effects are gone but the mental ones will be with me until I die. As it is with most children.

My alcoholic aunt and uncle were visiting and that always meant trouble so I tried to stay out of their way and out of the house. Because I was relegated to the basement I could get in and out most of the time without being seen. Not this time tho.

I could hear them yelling at each other upstairs and my sister was crying. By then I as 16 so we are skipping ahead a little here but not to far. Anyway when I got upstairs my uncle and my mother were fighting. It was loud enough that I kept expecting the cops to come. Lol, they didn't.

My stepfather was so drunk he was trying to open a bottle of beer with a BBQ tongs. My uncle was yelling so I told him to be quiet. He stood up to grab me and I pushed him away. Then his wife started yelling at me that he only had one lung and I need to be gentle with him. Told her if she didn't want him hurt she better get him sat down and shut up.

She started yelling at me for being disrespectful and I told her to pack their shit and get out and never come back. My uncle took exception and started to get up again and I pushed him back in his chair and told him get out or I was going to kick the shit out of him.

He said something so I pooped him in the mouth and told him again to GET OUT. They decided to leave. Then a fist come flying by my face so I turned to see what was happening now. My stepfather had taken a swing at me and missed. I swung back and didn't miss. He went down and I jumped on him.

I had a ton of rage and now I was going to get it out. I'd taken his fists and feet for 6 years and that was about to be done with too. I didn't care what happened to me and I was going to end it and end it now. I hit him again while he was down and then grabbed his throat and his hair and started choking him and banging his head on the floor.

Meanwhile mu aunt and uncle are screaming at me and my mother grabbed the broom and started beating me with the handle. It had absolutely no affect on me at all. Had I not seen it going up and down I never would have noticed. When my stepfather stopped moving I stood up and grabbed the broom from her and broke it in half.

The other three were still yelling at me and then my stepfather grabbed my leg so I kicked him in the ribs as hard as I could and he let go and stayed down. Then I told all four of them I was leaving and I'd be back in a few hours and that my aunt and uncle had better be gone or I was going to put them out.

As I was taking a step to leave my stepfather grabbed me again so I hit him in the nose as hard as I could and then proceeded to leave. I went down town and spent a little time with the people I hung out with and then went back home. My aunt and uncle were gone, which was a good thing and my parents were in bed.

My sister was still up and she was crying so I just left her alone, grabbed a bowl of cereal and went back down to my basement room.

As child abuse stories go this was not an unexpected ending, at least in my life. I had gotten big enough and brave enough to protect myself. Lol, 16 yrs old and 130 pounds. It wasn't my size nor my age that got me through all of it, it was the rage.

So now I have stopped all of the physical abuse but the mental and emotional abuse continued for another 2o years. I finally put an end to all of that too but it took some time.

Sex, abuse, stress and depression and beatings in Denison

Lol, another thing to add to the list of abuse, stress and depression that I'm not going to count every detail of. Sex happened a lot and unless it was something out of the ordinary, plenty of it was, I'm not going to tell you about everytime.

Of course paying Cherie a quarter for sex was cool with me. The way I look at it you pay for it one way or another. Dating and relationships cost plenty and you might get some sex and you might not. At least paying her a quarter I was guaranteed.

Another nice thing about it was there was no serious feelings involved. Just the greatness of the sex and the way it relieved all of my stress and depression.

We were in Denison for a while after Cherie and I started up. I actually looked forward to seeing her frequently and we had fun together.

Unfortunately after we moved it was quite awhile before I had actual, real sex with another girl. Lol, never ran into any that charged for it for a few years either.

As I said before, I loved the closeness of it and how it made me feel. Unfortunately it was pretty much the same feelings I got when I was molested by my uncles. That I didn't like and yet I liked the feelings.

That's the problem with child molesters. Everytime it happened to me it was a great feeling that someone cared about me. The people who molest play that angle a lot, from what I read about it, later in life.

For a long time I thought I might be gay. It was a really confusing time for me. At least Cherie made some of that go away. It definitely wasn't anything I could talk to anyone about at the time. Hell, I just started talking about it to select people a few years ago.

Another thing I never talk about much is the fact I wet the bed all my life. Didn't really stop until a couple of months after Cherie and I started doing it regularly.

Then we moved back to Sioux City for a few weeks and then to the small town of LeMars, Iowa for the next 5 years or so. LeMars is about 25 miles South of Sioux City, IA on US highway 75. Lots of interesting things happened there.

I suppose some of it was/is considered molestation but it was women and just because they were way older than I was didn't make it feel that way to me. I thought I was one of the luckiest teenagers alive when I got to have sex with those older women.

Actually I was stunned when someone told me the older women were child molesters. Just never thought of it that way and most of it I instigated or mentioned before they did. Yep, I have a double standard where guys and girls are concerned.

I suppose I shouldn't as I've never felt it from the girls side but as a guy I loved it and there wasn't a thing wrong with it. Just because they were older didn't make it bad, at least not to me.

More about LeMars and my life there in future posts.

Sane or insane, that's not the question.

This comment prompted this whole post. What sane person Just click that link. It's a short comment.

I don't know the answer to that. I do know there are people with far worse stories than mine. I've seen the scars on other people and asked.

I don't really think the question is what sane person hits a child with fists,feet or other objects, or burns them on the stove or with cigarettes, or cuts them or sexually abuses them or on and on and on.

I think the real question is why does anyone do anything to hurt or cause a child harm, in any way?

Even better question is why do we accept it when we see it happening? And yes, ignoring it is the exact same as accepting it or condoning it.

This is a subject that really pisses me off. Why would most of the people in the world rather ignore a child being hurt than get involved?

Another thing that pisses me off is when adults try to rationalize brutality against children as being the child's fault. Don't they understand that it's their own failing?

Aren't they smart enough to teach a child. Aren't they smart enough to control a child? Aren't they smart enough to teach a child right from wrong? All of this is why I wrote about new parents should have to take a parenting class. I'm not going to look up the url for that one. It was a while back.

Obviously child abusers have something wrong with them. Lack of self control for damn sure.

Even worse is it's a universal thing. It happens in every country, every race and ethnic makeup and in every social strata from high class to low class and rich or poor and everything in between.

Most ignore it, some tolerate it and some even condone it yet everyone says in public, how wrong it is. Bunch of lying, two faced sons of bitches as far as I'm concerned. Including churches and politicians.

When you raise a child thru the use of force all you are teaching them is that the strongest is right. That it's okay to hurt people smaller than you. That it's okay to hit people who can't defend themselves. That it's okay to yell at people smaller than you are or weaker than you are. That losing control of yourself is just fine. That as long as you are bigger or stronger you can do anything you want.

Two freaking million years of evolution or whatever, 10 thousand or how many ever years it is, if you believe in the bible and we still haven't learned one damn thing about not hurting children.

We still haven't learned that how you raise children is the kind of adults they become. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't want to hear any of the "Were so enlightened crap from anyone either" because the sad truth is we aren't that freaking enlightened at all.

Proof you say? Screw you, watch your tv, listen to the news, read your papers. If we're so enlightened then we have to be the most backwards, most ignorant race in the freaking universe because I don't see enlightened at all.

It's still happening and still most of you don't do a damn thing about it. That ain't enlightened. That's just plain stupid.

Have you ever told someone in Wal-Mart or whatever that if you see them hit their child again you are going to call the police? Have you ever protected a child from an adult or their own parents? I've done that many times and will do it again and again.

Now I'm 60 freaking years old, I've got spinal problems, I've got COPD so bad I can barely make it up a flight of stairs, I weigh a whole whopping 112 pounds and if I can do it you sure as hell can.

WHY THE HELL DON"T YOU?

Writing about depression is depressing

Somedays it's really depressing to come here and write about being depressed all of my life. I don't like it and I don't always want to do it but I manage to on most days.

People have told me all of my life that I should write my life story. I could never understand why, still don't, but that's what this is going to be in the end. I know I'm missing things and I know I get tired of repeating things.

The abuse happened on a daily basis but I don't want to write about every little or big piece of abuse that happened. It's boring and depressing at the same time. It was just normal to me. Not as bad as some peoples and worse than others.

I was frequently beaten with belts, sticks, switches, ping pong paddles, coat hangers, hands, fists, feet etc. What ever was handy at the time. I was burned once that I can remember.

Verbally I was called names, humiliated in front of others, belittled, made fun of and every other way you can verbally abuse a person. I was screamed at frequently. Mostly by my mother.

I can't even begin to describe how it made me feel and I won't bother to try. I've said before I'm seriously understated and you'll just have to fill in the blanks as best you can. I will say that if you imagine the worst you'll probably be close.

Thinking about it and writing about it makes me sad. Depressed and very, very sad. It also gives me headaches now and then. My life is going to get better as I get older but it's also going to get worse as I get older in this retelling.

Parts of it will even seem normal but for the most part I was trying to be normal and fit in. IOW it was an act and I could never keep it up for a sustained period of time. Altho at one point I did manage 13 yrs of semi normality.

Then there's the INTJ personality thing. Then there's my ADD but I managed to turn that into an asset as I got older. Throw some serious anger into the mix and some serious depression and a huge need for adrenaline and voila, you get me.

So my life has been a big mess most of the time. Still is but I can live with that too because that's how it's always been.

The story of my depression continues.

Lol, no, I won't get sidetracked today.

When we moved from behind my grandmothers house to a bigger place the only thing that changed was I didn't get sexually molested as often. The physical and mental abuse continued at the same rate. Not to belabor the pint but it continued pretty much at the same rate until I got big enough and scary enough to make it stop but that's still a few years in the future.

I did forget one thing tho. My great grandmother lived next to my grandmother. Nice lady but older than dirt. She did have this huge asparagus patch about 20 feet by 20 feet that I could hide in. Lots of bugs in the center of it but I stomped out an area I could sit in and I would take books in there to read while I hid from the adults. While the bugs bit a lot they weren't near as hard to take as the adults abusing me were. Funny, no one ever knew I used that as a hiding spot.

After we moved I had even more hiding spots I found in that area of town. I liked being alone then and I still require large amounts of time alone but I don't like being alone as much now. Being alone was purely a defense mechanism as it still is.

Until T came along I had been quite successful at not having emotions or letting them come to the surface. She brought things out in me I never knew existed anymore and as usual they caused pain. However in the beginning they caused more happiness and joy than they caused pain. For that reason I'm trying to learn to accept them and manage them now.

Lol, back to the topic. One day my dad talked to me and told me he thought my mother was going to runaway and take my sister and I with her. He told me to resist her and to runaway from her if I had to but not to go with her.

Now being a kid I knew they had problems, I knew my dad beat her and I knew she wasn't doing what she was supposed to be doing. What I couldn't figure out was, why, if she was going to run away, why she going to make me go along. She didn't want me so why force me to go. I know the reason now but I didn't then.

Eventually what my dad had told me, happened. I did my best to get away from her, I ran away from her, I hid and I fought against her when she put me in the car. I tried to jump out while it was moving but in the end she won. She was still to big for me to have any chance of dealing with her.

So we moved to Sioux City, Iowa. Into one of the poorest parts of town. I never saw my grandmother again for 4 or 5 years and I did see my father once in that time. A lot of things happened in Sioux City and those are stories for another day. Writing this stuff brings up a lot of bad memories and I don't want to deal with them today so I'm stopping here.

I'm in a good mood, I'm sorta happy and life is looking pretty fair for a change. It would look a lot better if I could find a chick I was interested in who was available. Heh, could be that I'm just to picky in that area but after rediscovering I still have emotions I don't want to waste them on someone who is going to cause nothing but pain.

While I'd be quite happy to have a loving caring relationship it's not my highest priority nor am I desperate to have one. My peace, calmness and tranquility still come first.

Sexual abuse and molestation is still my worst memory

I've stayed away from the sexual abuse and the molestation I went thru because it happened so often and it does affect my mood for the rest of the day.

Being sexually abused isn't fun to talk about, even 45 years later but if I can help someone else it's fine. I will live and I will be fine.

I usually tend to be understated when I discuss things or describe things. It's just part of how I am. I expect people to be able to know or understand with out the graphic descriptions. If they have questions when I'm done I'll answer them and answer them honestly.

Before we moved from behind my grandmothers house I was molested on average 4 times per week. Not as often as I was beaten but that's another thing I don't need to give you the daily details of.

Because I minimize it here and don't talk about it on a daily basis doesn't mean it hasn't had a profound effect on my life. It has and it does. Much more so than the physical abuse. The physical pain from the beatings is long gone but the mental pain from those beatings and the reasons behind the the mental pain are still there.

However the mental pain from the beatings isn't as bad as the pain from the molestation and no one doing anything to stop it. Before I got the sexual abuse stopped I was molested by four different people and three of them were guys and three of them were relatives.

Funny but I never considered the molestation by my uncles wife to be abuse nor did I consider it abuse when I was sleeping with 4 different older women at the age of 15-16. I should probably tell you that I was 14 or so when Nancy, my youngest uncles wife started with me. BTW I was no longer a virgin with girls at this point.

She was very pretty, only about 10 years older than me and she was just plain hot. The first time was very interesting. She would walk around the house wearing a sexy negligee or other things that turned me on. She always talked to me and we had a lot of long talks. She paid attention to me when no one else did and yes, she made me feel like she cared about me.

It started when she would come down to my room in the basement every night and talk with me before she went to bed. I was a night owl at the time and so was she so we were pretty much the only two in the house that were awake.

She'd come and sit on the edge of my bed wearing some of the sexiest and semi seethru things I'd ever seen a woman wear. One night she leaned forward to give me a kiss on the cheek and I got to see her breasts. She stayed in that position after the kiss and I just kept staring at her lovely breasts.

When she sat back up it was obvious I had a huge erection, well huge for a 14 year old. She reached for it on top of the covers and squeezed it and said don't go to sleep, she'd be back after everyone else went to bed.

She eventually came back and sat on the bed for a bit letting me look at her. Then she said she was cold and could she get under the covers with me. Hey, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world at this point and eagerly said yes.

She kissed me and touched me all over and let me kiss and touch her breasts. Eventually I had an orgasm and soon after that she went back upstairs. This went on for a week until she left. Naturally we progressed farther every night until the last two night we were making love a couple of times a night.

I never, but never, ever thought of this as abuse but saw it as a very horny 14 yr old getting lucky and some of my wildest fantasies coming true. While I now know it was wrong of her I still have a problem seeing it as abuse even tho I know it was.

I was mentally a lot older than my physical age as I'd had to grow up in a hurry so I saw it as an opportunity to have some sex. It's not something that bothers me today and I still look back at it with good memories.

Same with the older ladies I started up with the next year. No big deal and some great sex on top of it. Lol, how lucky does a 14 year old get? While I've never felt or noticed any mental effects from her and I having sex I'm sure a shrink could find some.

I was emotionally vulnerable and I'm sure she took advantage of that but I was also a more than willing participant.

Being molested by men left mental scars I'll take to my grave, being sexually abused by women left nothing but good memories.

I really find it interesting that I differentiate between the two and one is repulsive to the max and the other isn't. I find it even more interesting that society is starting to punish women the same way they punish men. I don't agree with it, depending on the age of the child, of course.

Reality to me is if it was a mutual want by both the male and the female it wasn't/isn't abuse. Mentally I understand it to be abuse, emotionally I loved it and I'm sure most guys of 14 wouldn't mind getting some sex from women who are older than they are.

Yep, it's an area where I have a double standard. I suppose if you consider this to be sexual abuse then there are at least 5 more women who abused me. I'll get to that much later in this blog. The point of this post was to try and explain that I do see a huge difference between being unwillingly molested by men and having willing sex with women 10 to 30 years older than I was.

A couple of more stories about abuse and depression

I've got tons of stories of my abuse and my depressions but I'm not going to tell you all of them. Well, at least not today. Today is just more about me being a kid and some of the dumber things I did.

When I was 5 and going to school we'd had a rain for about 3 days. This created a huge puddle in a neighbors yard. All the kids were over there wading in the puddle and having fun. I was forbidden to go over and join them. Lol, you know I did anyway.

I didn't want to get my pants wet so I figured by running thru and stomping down hard I'd make a hole in the water and then get my leg out fast enough not to get wet. Nice plan, I got wet. My dad beat me and had me change clothes and go back outside. Naturally I went right back to the puddle. Naturally I got wet again. Yes, I got beat again even worse than the time before.

For some reason I still got to go back outside. You know what happened. Yep, got wet, got beat and then my mother came home and I got in more trouble. I only had 3 pair of school pants and they were all wet. Naturally my sister had about 20 pairs of pants. So my mother beat me for getting all of my school stuff wet.

When I was 7 my cousin was out to the lake. I loved it at the lake as I could go do my own thing and my parents couldn't hurt me if they couldn't find me. They spent their time in the bar or at the dance hall. Me, I ran and played in the woods, fished and did whatever I could to keep me away from my parents.

Played with some other kids at the lake also. We were all pretty friendly and still are for that matter. All my kid friends parents were at the bar with my parents so it was pretty easy for us to do whatever we wanted to do.

Anyway, one day I was in town, at home, and decided I wanted to go to the lake. As I said before, my cousin was out there. No one would take me so I decided to ride my bike. I knew how to get there and I knew it was a long ways. I also knew there was a big hill.

Now at 7 I had a cast off 26 inch boys bike that I had to ride under the bar because my legs were to short to reach the pedals. If I wore my boots I could sit on the bar and just barely make it work. So I wore my boots.

I headed out for the lake pretty early. Somewhere around 8 AM. As soon as I couldn't see town anymore I got a lot happier about the whole thing. When I went around the S curve I knew the next big deal was going to be the hill. Going down it was going to be one hell of a thrill as I'd never been down a big hell on my bike so I was really looking forward to it.

Going down was as much fun as I expected but getting up the other side was one hell of a long walk pushing a heavy old bike too. I finally made it to the top and continued on my ride. By now I was thirsty, hot and tired and I was just barely half way. I continued on and finally made it to Breezy Point. The guy that owned it knew me so I went in there and got some water.

Then I rode the last two miles to the lake. 10 miles I rode, on a 2 lane, narrow asphalt road, from town to the lake. I was dreading the trip back. Finally found my cousin and her grandparents and we played for a while and messed around. Then they got ready to go back to town. I asked them for a ride because they had an old pickup and could haul my bike.

Yes! A ride back to town. It was another 5 years before I rode to the lake again and the next time it was on a lot better bike and I could pedal a lot faster.

When my dad found out I'd ridden my bike to the lake he took it away and put it up in the rafters of the garage. I never thought of anyone telling my parents what I'd done, never real thought much about making the trip either, just did it. About 10 different people had told my dad they'd either passed me on the bike or had seen me at the lake. Yes, you guessed it. I got beat petty good for that little trip.

No I don't think I should have been beaten for either of these either and I wouldn't do it to a kid but it is what passed for normal in my life. I knew I'd get beaten and I did it anyway. Hey, if ya can't do the time, don't do the crime. The beatings were just the price I paid for being me.

Just another kid who wasn't perfect but still just a kid.

Life long tinnitus and headaches caused by child abuse

Tinnitus means ear noise or ringing of the ears. I've had it for as long as I can remember. The first time I complained about it to a Dr. I was around 8 years old. That would have been in 1955. It's always there, every minute of every hour of every day.

Some days it sounds like Mariah Carey holding a high note forever and other days it sounds like the bugs do outside at sunset. Other times it's fluctuates between different tones and different level but it's always there. Always!

Now and then it's so loud I wonder why other people can't hear it. Sometimes it drives me to distraction but most of the time I just plain don't notice it unless it changes. In other words I've had it for so long I've gotten used to it.

I seldom go to the Dr. for anything but every couple of years I mention it to the doc and there is still no cure for it. They tell me certain things like aspirin can cause it but I have it whether I take aspirin or not. Doesn't matter what they tell me, I try it but it's still there.

I've been told by several different doctors who know about some of my abuse that to many blows to the head as a child could have been the cause. I don't know if they are right or not but as I said I've had it for as long as I can remember.

I've had cat scans, mri's and other tests, not specifically for the ringing i my ears but when the tests are scheduled I always mention it to the Dr. so they can look for a cause of that problem also. Everything comes up blank.

So I live with it, lol, not much choice there huh? It's just one of the constant reminders I have of being abused.

Another is headaches. I've also had them for as long as I can remember. The doctors try to figure out why and can find nothing wrong with my brain or my head. Then they tell me it's stress. I've been told I have migraines as I do have a couple of migraine symptoms and I may have the occasional migraine but I'm not sure that's what it is. I've been given practically every migraine treatment there is and none of them have helped.

When the migraine meds don't work they tell me they must be stress related. Heh, I don't get stress, I give stress. ;) Little joke there. Some I know are caused by stress but most aren't and all the drugs they give me to stop them seldom work. Good old aspirin works better than anything. Of course that makes my ringing ears even worse but it's better than having a headache.

When they can't find a cause they fall back on the old thing same as with the ringing. To many blows to the head as a child. I can handle a lot of pain and manage to function with pain that incapacitates many people. Yet now and then a headache will put me out of commission.

I can be sitting watching TV by myself, feeling comfortable and relaxed and all of a sudden it feels like someone hit me in the head with a hammer. Those are the ones I really hate. It won't just be one hit either, it will be like I was getting hit a few times. Dr. told me those were stroke symptoms and I should come in immediately when it happens. I went in once and they found nothing like a stoke happening so now I don't bother. However the pain is so immediate and so intense I let out a gasp with each one.

Nothing helps those headaches at all. I just have to wait for it to quit. Fortunately they don't last long. 15 or 20 minutes as a rule. The migraine like headaches I know they are coming before they get to a full blown state and I take Tylenol 3 or aspirin or ibuprofen to try and stop them before they start. That's rarely successful either.

Just a couple of the physical mementos I carry around with me at all times due to being a severely abused child. Thanks for the memories mother.

After my beating I turned into an angry kid

After making my update yesterday about my mother beating me so badly I was quite angry for the rest of the day. About the time I was getting over it the news came on and don't ya know they had an story about physical and sexual abuse. I have a forum at IBcynical Forum and I went off on a not so nice rant about the whole subject. If you are interested go take a look.

Child abuse is a subject that really irritates me because people knew I was being sexually, physically and mentally abused and no one did a damn thing about it. I was a very angry kid and back then there were no anger management activities for children nor any kind of anger management programs at all, not even for adults.

I never had any good role models when I was growing up and for sure never had any hero's. All I knew was anger, drinking, fighting and that kind of thing. Heh, I'm still way more comfortable in a bad ass bar than I am in an upscale place.

Anyway, the first time I saw Mr. Spock on Star Trek, that kinda dates me too, huh, I knew how I wanted to be. Cold, analytical and emotionless. Spock was everything I wanted to be. In control of himself at all times and logical.

I manged the cold and logical part very well and could even suppress all emotion except for one. Anger! For all the reading I did, all the research I did I was never able to find an effective way to control my anger. Well, I did find one way but it's not to workable for the most part. Staying away from people worked but I still had to go shopping for groceries, etc and would be in a constant state of irritation most of the time.

It's very obvious when I'm irritated as it comes out in my tone of voice and facial expressions. As hard as it may be for anyone to believe I'm very soft spoken but when irritated or angry I do speak louder. I also don't tend to sugar coat things when I speak so I've been called blunt, tactless and a bull in a china shop but the most frequent thing I'd hear was that I was an a**hole.

That one never bothered me and I encouraged it. MOF my whole personality is built on keeping people away from me and not letting anyone get anywhere close to me. The people who do get close to me are amazed how gentle I really am.

The girls I dated were all amazed when we would have sex that I was so extremely gentle with them and that their pleasure was more important to me than my own. It wasn't what they were expecting at all considering they knew how angry and irritable I could be. One of them described me as all porcupine and hard shell on the outside and all teddy bear on the inside.

One girl, who I fell in love with, made me feel emotions I hadn't felt for years and years. She even made me want to live. Now I can't get rid of the emotions and I don't know how to deal with them either. They confuse me and that irritates me to no end.

The psychologist I sent my ex wife and her kids to told me she could probably help me and I told her don't worry about it, I'll be fine. That was eight years ago and now I finally realize I'm not fine. Yeah, for being so intelligent sometimes I'm a slow learner, at least in that area.

I've spent 50 plus years being angry. I've used my anger to survive, I've used it to motivate myself and it's kept me alive more than once. I don't know how to be any other way. I'm very strong mentally unless I'm depressed and even then I'm still mentally tougher than everyone I know.

Nice huh? That's one of the problems with child abuse. Angry kids turn into even angrier adults. It doesn't make for a truly functional adult who enjoys much of anything. So now I'm 60 and angry and don't know how to change it. Nor am I sure I care to make the effort to try. My life expectancy is shorter than average due to the copd and I doubt there is enough time left in my life to fix all that's wrong and all that makes me so angry.

Like everyone else I want a quick fix and haven't been able to find one. Lol, don't anyone tell me to count to ten or to think or any of that simplistic crap. It doesn't work as the words come out of my mouth before my brain ever engages.

I'm rambling today, even worse than usual. What I want anyone to do who reads this is if you know or suspect any child is being abused, report it. Get involved, don't just stand on the sidelines and watch it happen. As far as I'm concerned if you know of child abuse and don't get involved you are as guilty as the person doing the abuse. Children are very precious things and everyone needs to do their part to protect them.

I'm a psychologists nightmare and some days I suspect if people knew the true thoughts going thru my head I'd be put in the funny farm for a long time. My depression is getting better but it's so slow. Seems to be no quick fix for that either. Funny, I can help other people fix or solve their personal problems but I sure can't fix my own. Ironic huh?

What causes cynical behavior and sarcastic comments

I suspect that child abuse cause a lot of cynical behavior. Why I'm so sarcastic I'm not sure but it's also probably related to having no patience with idiots, fools and stupid people. Jeff Foxworthy's 'Wheres your sign' jokes are sarcasm at it's best and funny too. At least IMO

Dealing with cynical people like me can be tough because I believe peoples actions, not their words. That was beaten into me when I was a little kid. After your mother has beaten you to a pulp and then comes to tell you how much she loves you, you tend not to believe it and when it happens over and over again you believe it even less.

Cynical people seem to have a lack of trust in anything anyone says and want to see proof. They've been lied to so many times that they believe in little but themselves. Yes, I'm cynical and quite sarcastic at times.

It seems to me that few people have any integrity or reliability. Most people tell you what they think you want to hear with no actual intention of carrying out what they told you. Lol, if you think that's cynical you might be right. It drives me absolutely crazy when someone tells me they will call me at 9 and then don't do it. Particularly when it's my GF.

It's gotten so bad that I only allow people in my private reality who are honest, trustworthy, reliable, loyal and who do what they say they will do. Anything else isn't worthy of my time, no matter who they are or what I think of them.

You see, calling when you say is part of being reliable, doing what you said is part of being reliable, being honest with me is part of being reliable, not playing games is part of being reliable. If I can't rely on people for a small thing how can I ever rely on them for bigger things. You trust people with small things first and then the things you trust them with get bigger and if they don't screw that up they get bigger still but they all start at the very bottom with very small things.

Lol, I have a history of sarcastic comments and that comes when people aren't reliable or don't do what they say often enough. My favorite is 'Whatever' and I can say it with a ton of different inflections. 'Yeah, right' is another I use frequently when dealing with unreliable people.

Most people don't get my sense of humor because it tends to be sarcastic jokes and remarks and quite cynical at times. I even keep a list of cynical love quotes on my PC just because I like them and now and then I use one of them. Mean rude sarcastic quotes are another thing I collect. It's an old girlfriends birthday in April and if I can find some sarcastic free ecards I'm going to send her the best one, or the worst one depending on your point of view.

There are nice guys cynical bitter and impatient and most days I'm one of them. However other people don' see me as nice when I call them on their lack of integrity or reliability in a cynical or sarcastic manner.

Some people told me years ago I should start my own forum for cynical people so I did. It's just my take on cu rent events, stupidity and other things that bug me. It's about Cynical people capable of thinking for themselves and having intelligent opinions and I even go off on a rant now and then. Wow, imagine that.

So did being an abused child cause me to become so cynical or was it something else. Personally I think it was the abuse. OTOH I also come from a long line of cynical and sarcastic people. However they were all abused too so I don't know.

Actions speak louder than words. I'm sure you've heard it a thousand times before. I'm also pretty sure most people ignore actions and keep on believing words. I seldom believe words any more, just actions. If your words and your actions match up we can be friends, if the don't we can't.

Words and actions not matching tends to make me more than a little sarcastic and cynical

Non abused sister and severely abused brother

The bad thng about all of this is that my sister has no memory of any of this. I wouldn't expect here to as she was just to young to be able to tell what was going on. Also don't forget, she got treated very well, never got hit or beaten, had closets full of clothes while I had very little in the way of clothes or toys.

It's not her fault that she doesn't know any of this. Lol, reason I don't speak to her is that she has the attitude my mother raised her with. Queen of the world and you had better do what she says and act the way she says or incurr her wrath. She can't intimidate or control me so she gets very angry and upset about it. Heh, no one controls or intimidates me and hasn't since I was eight years old.

It's as if we were raised by different mothers. We weren't but she has a very hard time believing her wonderful mother was such a rotten bitch to me. She has no clue that most of this happened and she probably never will have. Unless I let her read this some day. That's doubtful unless my cousin gives her the url after I'm dead.

After my mother got divorced fro my father she used to tell me he wasn't my father and she didn't know who was. What she failed to understand about that was no matter how much it hurt me it also made her out as somewhat of a slut. I confirmed that thru some of her old friends and enemies when I was in my early twenties.

Surpise, surprise, most of the people I talked to about her said that's why my dad used to beat her. He caught her with other guys a few times. MOF she was sleeping with my future stepfather before she left town and got divorced. While I don't know for a fact it might be why she didn't have her other boys either but I do know she didn't want boys so she may have just dumped them on her first ex and ran off.

To my sister my mother was perfection and to me she was the worst bitch that ever lived. It's no wonder she has problems believing any of this.

Another thing my mother did was to put my father down all of the time. Every bad thing you could say about someone she said about him, to me. When the "I don't know who your father is" didn't work to well to hurt me anymore she changed her tactics. After that she'd tell me I was just like my father and belittle me for it.

What she didn't know was that if it pissed her off it made me very proud to be considered just like my father. While he beat me he didn't treat me near as bad as she did. Of course he didn't do anything about it either but if I had a choice who to be like I preferred it to be him rather than her.

Meanwhile I was still being mentally, physically and sexually abused and it continued for years. Now I'm 60 and the old crap still has an effect on my life. Just another reson why child abuse is such a bad thing

My life and why child abuse is so wrong

Child abuse is so wrong because it causes people like me. It hurts people it causes chronic depression and major depression, it causes low self esteem and much more.

One of my jobs at the house I was born in was to haul water from my grandma's house back to my house in a 5 gallon bucket. Damn bucket was almost as big as I was. I was really glad when we moved out of that house.

We moved and finally had running water and a bathroom, inside no less. No more freezing your balls off in the winter. My sister and I finally didn't have to sleep in the same room with our parents. Didn't make it much better because she and I still slept in one room upstairs. Lol, the only room upstairs. Basically and attic with floorboards. Hotter than hell in the summer, colder than hell in the winter.

You might think life got better but it didn't. Now besides taking care of my sister I had to do all the chores around the house. Vacuuming, dishes, garbage and everything else that needed done. I was 6 or so and some of it was just beyond my capabilities. Didn't matter tho because if I didn't do it perfect I got beaten.

So not much had really changed except location. I was still responsible for my sister, I was still being beaten and I was still being sexually abused by my uncle.

One time my parents had been gone for three days, naturally we were left alone, and my sister who was just over three was crying because she was hungry. I'd cooked everything available and there was no food left in the house, not even milk. Hell of a thing when a six yr old is cooking for a three yr old.

We were always given strict instructions when my parents would leave us, that we were to stay in the house, not go anywhere and not tell anyone they were gone. The punishment for committing any of those crimes was to be severly beaten.

My sister was crying so much I didn't see any choice but taking her to my grandma's house so she could eat. Me, I'd be fine but she had to eat. I also knew what the punishment was going to be and I knew it was going to be very, very bad but what was I going to do? Just let her cry until they came home. What if it was a few more days?

It was about 8 blocks to my grandma's house and she couldn't walk that far so I decided screw the punishment and I put her in the old wagon I had. I knew I was going to be hurt but I did it anyway. I pulled her in the wagon all the way to granma's house and told her what was wrong.

She was so mad at my parents if they'd been there she might have killed both of them. Anyway, she fed us and as it was late put us to bed on her big couch. At least my sister wasn't crying and we both had full bellies so life was good at the moment.

Thoe horror was yet to come. A couple of hours later my grandma woke us up and our parents were there. She raised hell with them about leaving us alone and hungry and then we left. I knew as soon as we turned the corner at the end of the alley it was going to start.

I was right! Soon as we turned my mother turned around and slapped me as hard as she could and started calling me names. Then she just kept hitting me until we got home. Once we got into the house my dad started beating me with his belt and I was crying very hard. So once again they beat me until they both got tired of it and I was sent to bed. Once again I tried to kill myself.

I'm so angry writing this I'm shaking. What was I supposed to do? I protected my sister and got the hell beat out of me for it. I suppose to this day it's why I'll always do the right thing no matter what the consequences are to me. That doing the right thing crap has cost me more than a few trips to jail or physical and mental pain or money.

That part doesn't matter though as I still do the right thing, not always the legal thing BUT the right thing. It still costs me and it's costing me today. No big deal though as I can handle it. Heh, there isn't anything I can't handle. I still protect women and kids from others and I guess I always will.

Most good people don't think I'm a very nice person but they don't have a clue. The people that I've helped during my life think I'm the greatest person they ever met. What do I think? Lol, not much as I did what I had to do at the time and that's just how I am. I can live with who and what I am.

Bottom line why child abuse is so wrong is because you end up with people like me who just don't give a damn if they live or die or what happens to them. Prisons are full of people just like me who were abused and just don't care. Society pays for it in the end and thats how that is.

So I'm depressed, so what and big deal.

I told you all before I don't want your sympathy just because I'm depressed. Except for the first few paragraphs this is going to be a happy post.

Today is the birthday of the bitch who gave birth to me. I'd have had better parents if I'd been raised by a pack of wolves. I never spoke to that woman for the last 15 years of her life and to this day don't feel guilty about it. Never will as it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

I put an end to the sexual abuse when I was 14 and I put an end to the physical abuse by my mother that same year and when I was 16 I put an end to the physical abuse by my stepfather. What I could never put an end to was the mental abuse. Turns out the mental abuse had far more serious consequences that the physical abuse or sexual abuse did.

Whatever!

I mentioned before that I hate anti depression drugs and their side effects. I'm no longer as seriously depressed as I was a month ago. My last serious depression I put an end to by getting massages and by learning to just go lay in the sun and do nothing.

Soon I will give up the zoloft. Why? Because when I get to depressed I forget who I am and what I can do with my mind. I'm in a part of the country where it's warm enough I can go lay in the sun for an hour a day and think good thoughts about what I want and where I'm going. That helps me immensly. It's not impossible that I have seasonal affective disorder and that may be why I get so depressed. I do know that the sun helps me feel better and if I can lay in the sun or be in the sun by a lake or pond I feel better.

I've studied the subconcious all of my life because I sincerely believe in the power of the mind. It's made me independent and I have enough so I don't have to work. Not enough so I can live large but enough I can live well enough to keep me happy. I've been able to use my mind to keep everyone of my emotions in check except for anger.

I know what causes anger, I know I make the choice to be angry about somethings and I also know I'm the only one who can change that. Just as you are the only one who can change you.

One girl used to upset me so much and make me forget who I wa so much that I finally made her ringtone the part of the Whitney Houston song I told you about in another post. Why? Because that part of the song reminds me of who I am and what I can do. It makes me remember who I am. I love her dearly but I don't like her much. This is not a contradiction tho as I don;t believe you can choose who you fall in love with.

If I could choose to love someone else I would. Heh, a girl I like proposed to me the other day, for the second time. I said no. I like her and we are friends but I wll never love her. If I could I would but it's just not there. I may end up living with her to see if it develops any further, it might but I doubt it.

Anyway, back to the subconcious mind and what it can do. I'm sure most of you have heard of the placebo effect. It's where people get well even when not being given the drugs they think they are receiving. It's the mind that makes this happen because they believe they have been given drugs that will help them but in reality they received a fake pill or a sugar pill. Scientists use palcebos in double blind studies. Sometimes the placebo works better than the drug. You can do some amazing things with our mind if you believe.

I've been using my mind this way for years and also using it to supress my feelings. That's now changing as I learned somethig the other day that caused me to rethink the way I was using my mind. It's called The Secret but I think it's a stupid name and it's never really been a secret. However watching the videos on youtube caused me to make a couple of changes in my thinking.

Does it work. I'd have to say yes it does. Will it help me not be depressed? Yes it will and I know that. will it do other things for me. Yes, it will and because of what I know about the subconcious from past learning it can and will help anyone. You can find out more about it here This can help you or anyone else so click here to see what its about I can guarantee you will be glad you did but only if you keep an open mind and watch the videos available.

I seldom recommend things to people unless I damn well know they work. For instance I know glucosamine whith chondroiton can help carpal tunnel. It pretty much cured mine and I had it so bad I couldn't pick up a cup of coffee. They wanted to do surgery on me and I wouldn't let them. when I told my cousin about what it did for me she tried it with the same results. Others tried it on our recommendation and it worked for them. Now scientists have proven it works. There are other things but you get the idea. If I didn't think it worked I wouldn't bother to mention it.

Another thing that can help mood is omega 3 fatty acids. Fish oil capsules are the best way to take it as it's really awful tasting crap but there is scientific evidence that it does cause people to feel better about themselves and be happier. Lol, I'll have to start taking it again too. When I get to depressed I forget everything I know about getting over it and seem to wallow in it for a while. Then I finally remember and start to get better.

I forget the other one that works but I'll remember it today sometime. All I can remember about it at the moment is they give it to pregnant women because it helps the fetus to develop but once again it was scientifically proven to work.

Learn to use your own mind to get what you want. Doesn't matter what it is you can have it if you believe you can. I don't believe I can, I KNOW I can. I can already tell a difference in my mood and my depression is much less and that's a good thing.

Due to the videos I watched I'm changing my daily routine and I don;t expect to be depressed much longer and I don't ever expect to be depressed again in the future. That's if I can make it a habit and don't just forget to do it.

Tomorrow I'll tell you something that can boost selfesteem and it too is so very simple no one believes it works.

Running away, killing ones self and Runaway Love

As I said yesterday, it gets worse. I have a brief interlude here that's related but the first time I heard Runaway Love by Ludicrous and Mary J. Blige I almost cried. If you haven't heard it or seen it you can see it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJWtR2KlMwg and I would recommend you watch it and listen to it a few times.

That video could be the story of my life except I'm a guy and my abuse started much earlier than that. I'm sure the girls abuse started when they were born too. Yes, I'm getting to the point of all of this.

The first time I ran away from home I was four years old. Imagine that, a four year old running away from home for real. It wasn't like the shows where the kid can't leave because he can't cross the street or his mother refuses to pack a lunch so he doesn't leave. I ran away and my mother couldn't find me for hours and hours. Of course at four I couldn't fomulate a very good plan so I ran away to my grandmothers house which was about 8 blocks from where I lived.

In retrospect not a good plan but hey, I was four and I did have the balls to leave home and try to find a better place for me. Eventually my parents tracked me down, came and got me, took me home and beat the hell out of me until they got tired of it. That was how life was for me. While my maternal grandmother cared about me she and my grandfather just kept letting the abuse happen. Yep, I've probably been depressed all of my life.

After thinking about my unsuccessful attempt to runaway from home I came to the conclusion that the only way to make things better for myself was to die. So naturally I tried to commit suicide a couple of times. Obviously I wasn't successful or I wouldn't be writing this. The bad thing is I still which I had been successful.

It's kind of embarrasing for me to be writing this stuff as most of the people in my life don't know any of these things happened to me. I also never knew that my life was that much diffeent from any other kids lives. I didn't know there were good parents in the world or that there were kids who weren't abused. Except for one of my cousins I was close to. I always wished I had her parents but her parents and mine hung out together as our two dads were related. I'm not so sure now that her life was that great either but she didn't get the beatings I got so it made it look better to me.

When I was around 40 or so one of my wifes friends was at our house and she was talking about how the social services had taken her neighbors kids away from her for abuse. She was telling me that the parent had left them alone overnight and someone had turned her in. Now her kids were fed well, dressed well, not beaten or anything like that and in my mind an 11 and 9 year old were old enough to be alone over night.

She went on and on about how bad it was that the mother had left them overnight and I finally snapped on her and told her she didn't know what the hell she was talking about or even what the hell abuse was. I asked her if she'd been an abused child and she said no, that she didn't even know anyone who had been badly abused. I said sure you do, you know me.

She said what abuse, you got spanked now and then or what. Now I not only snapped but I really went off on her with a major rant. When I finally stopped yelling she asked me how I was abused so I told her a very little of it but included the running away and the trying to commit suicide at the age of four. Much to my disbelief and amazement she started crying and so did my wife. I truly didn't understand why they were crying so I asked.

We talked about it for awhile and I tried to explain that I'd never talked about it because I had assumed every kids life was like that and that it was what I knew and what I had lived thru so it was normal for me. It was the only explanation I could come up with and when she asked me if I still thought it was normal I said yes.

Then she asked me, if I read about a four year old running away and trying to commit suicide, in the paper or saw a tv story about it would I think it ws normal and I said no. That's the first time in my life I realized how abused I was and how bad it really was. Here I am a 40 year old man thinking my running away and trying to kill myself was normal for that age.

I know better now and I will talk more openly about all of the abuse that happened to me but there are still things no one else knows and I'll eventually put them on here, someday. when I get brave enough. I know it wasn't my fault I was abused and I know the responsibilty wasn't mine. I KNOW THAT yet it still feels weird to talk about any of it.

So yes, I now know that I have been depressed all of my life and to this day I don't give a damn if I live or die. It just doesn't matter to me in any way, shape or form.