My ChildishThoughts on Abuse

As I hide in this closet my mind can not comprehend what I did. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something that I can fix or is it just me "being born" like you said? I can not help being born, it was not my choice.
Even when you yell at me and hit me with the back of your hand, your still my mom. I must have did something wrong. I still love you but knowing that doesn't seem to help me. I cry when you hit me and run away to hide. I'm at a loss to make you love me.
As I sit here , I can hear you looking for me, slamming doors and yelling my name. "Please don't open this closet door, please."
Tears streak down my face and I sob quietly. My trembling increases with each sound of your voice. Maybe if I'm very quiet and not make any noise you'll pass me by.

At six years of age, I hated to have to run and hide in order to stay out of reach of my mothers rage. Every time I did I would invariably end up wondering in my childish mind why? I loved my mom so much even when she would be cruel. I was always threatened with taunts that haunt me to this day. Like " I wish I had never had you" or "Too bad you didn't die being born". The most hurtful one being," If I had never had you kids I'd have better off, why don't you go drown in the pond".

Going through this I still knew my mom was "my mom", I would make excuses in my childish mind. Excuses for what I did to cause her rage toward me. This is where I always managed to blame myself for doing something wrong. It was a very hard thing to finally learn that it wasn't me or anything I did, but it was something inside of her.

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