In honor of October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I wanted to share briefly with the world my story and the wonderful, strong, determined and courageous mother I am BLESSED with.
I witnessed my first act of violence on my Mother when I was only 4 years old. I was in the living room playing and I heard my parents arguing. All the sudden, I heard this loud Pop and my mom crying out in sheer agony and pain. When I looked into the kitchen, there was a pool of blood that covered the entire kitchen floor. I remember thinking to myself, “Oh My God, my dad just killed my Mommy!”
He in fact did not kill her that day, nor would he ever! But that bloody afternoon, he did break her nose leaving me with a horrific memory that is forever etched in my mind when I share my story of abuse. There were so many other occasions that he did come very close with his ruthless attacks and I am so thankful the Lord was protecting!
I endured much physical abuse at the hands of my father throughout my entire childhood until I was able to leave the home on my own accord. If I had never experienced the extreme physical, mental, emotional and the sexual abuse at all from him, what I witnessed and saw with every brutal blow to my Mother was enough to shatter my world! Those vicious attacks left internal scars, PTSD, fears, tremendous anxiety and abandonment issues that I still carry with me today in my adult life.
My mother is my true hero in this life. She was physically, mentally, emotionally abused and molested by a family friend as a child. She suffered mercilessly at the hands of her mentally sick father, my grandfather who I never knew. He died of Huntington’s disease before I was born. She grew up in a home with 9 Siblings and it was a situation where the children raised and fended for themselves. In her childhood, she had no sense of love or security. As a result of her abusive childhood, her self-esteem was shattered and all she wanted was to find a loving man and raise a “Normal” family, contrary to the one she grew up in.
As fate would have it though, she would be placed in the path of one of the most psychotic, violent, abusive and enraged men I have ever known, who just happened to be my father.
Just when she thought she had found “The One,” the man who would take her away from all the tragedy and horror of her childhood, she would quickly realize that her “Hell” had just begun; and for the next 20 years, she would still have to battle, fight and survive, not only for just her livelihood, but now for the lives of her four children.
If not for the courageous and fighting spirit of my mother I would not be alive today. She intervened on more occasions than I care, or can even remember when my father was severely abusing my sister or myself. Our abuse was not limited to time or place either. Whenever my father had a “Fit of Rage” one of us three would be his primary target. Our beatings did not last for moments either, they lasted for minutes, upon minutes turning into segments of an entire night. He would not just beat you and then move on. He would be relentless! Some of the worst memories I have are when his violent attacks were endless going into the wee hours of the night. This is where my sister, mom or I were being brutally attacked and hunted down by my father outside in the dark. We would all try to intervene for each other as we got older, hoping to divert his attention and end the attack. We would try to fight him, but we were just no match for a 200 lb., enraged man! My mom always fought till the bitter end though, along with my sister and I. I learned this tenacity and “Never give up Attitude” from her. Even in the midst of the most dismal circumstance I never give up.
As I recall this one “Snap Shot” from my childhood, so much love and compassion is rising up within me. My Mother has always been the “Glue” that held our family together. She was the Rock and the one true savior in my life. Her attacks were so brutal that she has many battle scars. Some are very visible and damaging. One scar in particular was as a result of saving my life.
On this night my father was so enraged with me over an inconsequential event that wasn’t even my fault, that as I was following his orders to “Turn the #%#@&$ Stereo off as I was bending down to unplug it he in turn grabbed an Iron Skillet and was just about to hit me over the back of the head and neck with it when my mother rushed him, grabbed his arm and he slung her across the room. With the commotion I quickly turned and then watched him punch my beautiful mother in the face, immediately cutting her eye. When he noticed what he had done he turned to me and came rushing at me. I went bolting for the front door, the only means of escape. He did not give chase that night as my mom was badly injured and had to go to the hospital for stiches. That night I spent hour’s outdoors hiding in the woods. My father blamed me for cutting my mom’s face and I carried that guilt around for years until I realized it was HIS fault and not mine!
In tribute to not only my Mother but ALL the Women and Men who have Suffered, Survived and those that have perished in the horrors of Domestic Violence, I am deeply saddened and salute you for your Courage, Strength and Survival in the fight!!
My story, “Shards of Glass” is my voice and how I raise awareness and fight for JUSTICE in ALL forms and levels of abuse! Abuse is an epidemic and we all need to raise our voices, share our stories and RISE UP!!
“To my Mother, MY Strength; A Rock; A true survivor of all that is bad in this world; A fighter beyond compare; A Women of Depth, Compassion and Faith. I LOVE YOU!! We made it through the violence!”
To read more about my story of abuse and how I endured and survived please check out "Shards of Glass" at https://www.amazon.com/author/cwseymore.
