Back in 2002 I remember when my Dad smacked me over the head so hard I fell to floor knocking the air out of me. naturally I had to cry- it's wat I do. I remember this, cuz it was the first time I ever acted rebellious against him indirectly. my anger boiled uncontrollably scaring my mother and I kicked his damn computr table, permanently destroying it, I was 12. Rewind a year earlier 2001, and we wake up 8 a.m., the time we shud already b in school... we're late. No worries, kids are always late, I see their parents drop them off all the time. Mom are we going yet? O wait, Dad's beating my brother in the next room- I dunno y but I can hear him squealing and crying- he's outside now, and he's walking-why?. My Dad approaches, hes in the living- the kitchen, then the dining room. I'm in the dining room, putting my shoes on. And for some reason I begin to cry- cuz Dad has a broom in his hand , and he looks pissed. Of course he hits me with it, and I crawl into the corner making sounds just like my brother. 
Pushing chairs aside, he threatens me and for no fucking reason I'm apologizing. My way of begging him not to hit me. He throws the broom aside and makes his next move. One I will never forget- he picks me up by the neck, strangling me in mid-air. I pretended to make choking sounds so he can let me go. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see mom sitting in the living room watching. This is the moment I'm thinking- "WTF did I do to deserve this?" My borther and I went to skool with absolutely no supplies to work with. And when our teachers had ask what happened, we'd replay "I forgot." Till this day, I never really knew why he did what he did. But if I did ask, I'm pretty sure it would be a stab in the heart for him to explain. Cuz I want a better excuse than " I beat ur ass cuz u were late to school". I'm mean I was only 11 and in 5th grade at the time. I can never forgive him for that day, and him only. Mom came to the foot of my bed in the middle of the night and cried for forgiveness- she practically woke me up from my sleep. I didn't say anything though. And yes there had been previously abusive situations before and after these incidents but I chose to tell you these because they are the ones that stand out the most when I remember what made me what I am today. Not to mention they happened here in America, where child abuse is a serious crime. When I had turned 17, I remember walking upstairs to get something to eat but as I made my way to kitchen my little sister was crouched under the kitchen counter near the dining table and my Dad standing directly over her kicking or "disciplining" her like a "soccer ball". Something about the whole scene just zapped into me because I went from not giving a shit to "What the hell are you doing?", literally I said it. My Dad turns to me, walks up into my face and tells me "What?"... this is the first time I've ever opposed him on anything directly...EVER! I say again- "WTF r u doin?" Mom decides to come out of no where and pull me away. You see were I come from discipline is usually portrayed by abusive action not by words. But we were living in America, where dignity is a crucial part of living in modern society- you need it to survive. Hell I've been in American School long enough to learn that a 40s year old beating on a 7 year old is a pussy at work. I used to like him when I was little, Dad. Now I can't seem to find any sort of inspiring attribute about him that like. He is what prevents me from being what I want to be. I lost my sense of confidence, and self-esteem. Worst of all I lost my sense of humor. :rofl: I used to laugh at almost everything, now I rarely even smile. What pissed me off even more was when my mother said "you don't understand- this is discipline." To which I replied... "You just watch, couple years down the road your gonna regret this- she'll remember this more clear than anything you've done for her." So in my experience, I've learned that one things for certain... if I ever have any kids- I damn sure as hell would rather have them be late to school than beating asses for it. I want my kids to like me and love me forever, not despise me years later when they grow a conscious and realize I had done something wrong to them before.
Pushing chairs aside, he threatens me and for no fucking reason I'm apologizing. My way of begging him not to hit me. He throws the broom aside and makes his next move. One I will never forget- he picks me up by the neck, strangling me in mid-air. I pretended to make choking sounds so he can let me go. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see mom sitting in the living room watching. This is the moment I'm thinking- "WTF did I do to deserve this?" My borther and I went to skool with absolutely no supplies to work with. And when our teachers had ask what happened, we'd replay "I forgot." Till this day, I never really knew why he did what he did. But if I did ask, I'm pretty sure it would be a stab in the heart for him to explain. Cuz I want a better excuse than " I beat ur ass cuz u were late to school". I'm mean I was only 11 and in 5th grade at the time. I can never forgive him for that day, and him only. Mom came to the foot of my bed in the middle of the night and cried for forgiveness- she practically woke me up from my sleep. I didn't say anything though. And yes there had been previously abusive situations before and after these incidents but I chose to tell you these because they are the ones that stand out the most when I remember what made me what I am today. Not to mention they happened here in America, where child abuse is a serious crime. When I had turned 17, I remember walking upstairs to get something to eat but as I made my way to kitchen my little sister was crouched under the kitchen counter near the dining table and my Dad standing directly over her kicking or "disciplining" her like a "soccer ball". Something about the whole scene just zapped into me because I went from not giving a shit to "What the hell are you doing?", literally I said it. My Dad turns to me, walks up into my face and tells me "What?"... this is the first time I've ever opposed him on anything directly...EVER! I say again- "WTF r u doin?" Mom decides to come out of no where and pull me away. You see were I come from discipline is usually portrayed by abusive action not by words. But we were living in America, where dignity is a crucial part of living in modern society- you need it to survive. Hell I've been in American School long enough to learn that a 40s year old beating on a 7 year old is a pussy at work. I used to like him when I was little, Dad. Now I can't seem to find any sort of inspiring attribute about him that like. He is what prevents me from being what I want to be. I lost my sense of confidence, and self-esteem. Worst of all I lost my sense of humor. :rofl: I used to laugh at almost everything, now I rarely even smile. What pissed me off even more was when my mother said "you don't understand- this is discipline." To which I replied... "You just watch, couple years down the road your gonna regret this- she'll remember this more clear than anything you've done for her." So in my experience, I've learned that one things for certain... if I ever have any kids- I damn sure as hell would rather have them be late to school than beating asses for it. I want my kids to like me and love me forever, not despise me years later when they grow a conscious and realize I had done something wrong to them before. 
I know it doesn't do anything, but I'm sorry.