I don't usually do this, but I am going to share a story with you that is not mine. It is a convoluted story that is going to be hard to follow for some of you. Even though it isn't my story, it is going to help explain a post I am planning to post soon.
This ordeal (and believe me, it's an ordeal!) with the murder of the young man I used to babysit has stirred up a lot of memories for me. Not only that, but it has brought a flood of info from back home that I don't want or need. Small town drama is something I left behind years ago and I cringe at the mere thought of it.
Not that I am trying to set up some kind of stereotype, but I babysat for a whole block of welfare moms. There was a certain level of trashy-ness. Most were single moms, a couple were married. The single and married ones caravaned to the bar on Friday and Saturday nights. They would often straggle home with a variety of shady characters and rarely the same ones week to week.
One of the moms would come get me and then the last one home would take me home, provided they weren't passed out by the time they hit the doorway. There were plenty of times I walked the 14 blocks home at 3 am.
There was a married couple who often were the last ones home, leaving the husband to take me home. The couple had 4 children all under 7 years old, the youngest was just a baby. The two oldest boys were fathered by two different dads who were not involved in their lives. The two youngest were a boy and girl fathered by the current husband.
On several occasions, the ride home I got from the husband included being molested and raped. Yes, I had abusers outside of my family. The danger in having abusers outside the family is that the abuse is so normalized in the home that you fail to see it as wrong.
Looking back, I know that the sexual abuse was not limited to just me. I saw behavior in everyone of the four children that would have indicated many levels of abuse.
In my late 20s, I heard from friends that this man had been put in prison. He had been found guilty of molesting several children. Obviously he had more victims than what anyone knew. A few years ago, I came across his obituary. He had died within months of his release from prison. I remember feeling a sense of relief.
This weekend, I learned that his youngest son is now serving time in prison. Earlier this year, he was arrested for stealing drugs from another man. I'd just like to say....who in the world reports stolen illegal drugs! Anyway, during his arrest, he was not told why he was being arrested. When the police began to question him, he confessed to molesting multiple children. That wasn't even what he had been charged with and it is unlikely he'd have gotten busted for that. In fact, it is unlikely he'd have served any time for stealing illegal drugs.
So, this young man whose dad served time for molesting is now serving time for the same crime.
The reality of this is that the young man was likely molested by his own dad. He grew up in a dysfunctional home where abuse was the norm. He lived a rough life. I know this will sound strange to most, but it is unlikely anyone ever told him that it was wrong to sexually abuse children. He truly became a product of his environment. He became who his dad taught him to be.
Although it does not excuse his behavior, you can certainly understand where it originated.
When a child lives in unfathomable circumstances, they have limited choice in how they cope. Please understand, I am not talking about living with parents who yell a lot or an alcoholic dad who gets mean. I am talking about living in constant turmoil and torture. I am talking about the situations where the abuse happens in consistent patterns, includes sexual, physical and mental or surviving potentially deadly circumstances. That is what I lived through, so that is the only kind of abusive background I can speak about fairly.
Children do NOT escape those families unscathed. It just does NOT happen. Probably the most common way to cope is to repress until they are old enough and then self medicate with drugs and alcohol and failed relationships, while coping with various bouts of depression, anxiety and PTSD. Some cope by conforming to the ways of the abusers, which was the case for this young man. In some cases, much less common, the child develops ways to cope with the violence against them. Their coping mechanism is the key to their survival, but is truly a mental illness which will hinder them as an adult.
That is where I fall. Over the next few weeks, I hope to share more with you about who I am and why I am the way I am. It is a big step for me to be transparent about something so personal. As I embrace the idea of not hiding who I am, I must also acknowledge that I too am a product of where I began.
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