Psychological Abuse Analysis

Words: 838
Pages: 4

Toward the end of my eighth grade year, I knew that there was something wrong in my home however I never knew exactly what it was. I would hear yelling and I was afraid of something bad happening yet whenever I saw my father’s face I only felt love. I tried very hard to be a Daddy’s girl, and to love him no matter what, but as I got older, my mind began to evolve, to awaken and I saw my situation in an unfiltered light. It wasn’t easy for me, as a thirteen year old girl, to admit that I was afraid of my father hitting my mother. I did not tell anyone because he did not hit her, but his emotional abuse- his words- were so much more harmful. I did not know that psychological abuse is the most harmful at that time. I am still much more aware …show more content…
During May of 2011, our house became foreclosed. I learned that everything I had been given in my life had been a blessing and having to move into another home that did not have much hot water and was always cold, really humbled me. I appreciated my life more and I worked harder to build myself up mentally. I also learned that my father felt belittled and angry that God had punished him so. My father started to drink more and to work more. He had two jobs at that time and whenever he was home he always had my mother by his side. I felt alone and neglected and I sought after my Grandmother’s love and wisdom as well as church. It was not easy for me, but I prayed and I kept up my grades. I still had friends and I helped them and gave them advice. I wanted them to know that life could be so much worse and that we all should be so grateful for what we have. I truly believed that with all of my …show more content…
He told me that my mother wanted a divorce. My mother had finally had enough. She no longer was afraid to stop his berating attacks. She had God on her side and she knew that all she needed was to move on. My mother and I packed our bags and we left as quickly as we could, with the fear of my father in mind. It wasn’t safe in that house anymore. Not with my father asking for where his guns were. It was absolutely terrifying yet my mother pulled on a strong front for me. She prayed for hours on end and she got results. We moved in with my grandmother and we slowly built up our faith and happiness. The storm my father had caused was over and we were no longer afraid. God lead us through our