by Joseph Scott

Created on: February 27, 2009

At four years old, I guess it could be concluded that I was a normal young boy who loved riding his bike with his friends, playing in jungle gyms and fishing with my dad. I wasn't really much of a "mama's boy" but I was close to Mom as well. After my parents divorced, Mom met a new man and life suddenly changed. This man had six other kids, and I was the seventh, and least favorite.

Things started out okay at first, but after he knew he had my mom in the bag, his attitude changed. I began witnessing him beat my mom with wooden paddles, push her down in ditches, and I even saw him inject her with drugs a few times. Then, one night, the attention turned to me. We had lost our five bedroom house in Wilcox, AZ and moved in to a motor home with a camper on the back in Three Points, AZ. This motor "home" was a rusty, 1950s model pea green pickup truck with a big white camper on the bed; hardly enough to accommodate nine people. It was a dark, chilly, desert evening in Three Points, and the three boys and I had just returned to the camper after being outside to play. We ate a meager dinner of Bologna sandwiches and potato chips (like every other night) and got ready for bed. Mom had left for a second to go over to "Joe"'s mother's house to use the phone. "Joe" was in charge of getting us to bed in time for school the next day. As I was laying down, "Joe" became upset with me because I had been out late with the boys, completely disregarding the fact that the boys were out late as well.

"Joe" began barking various commands at us and finally went behind the curtain that divided us from the front of the camper, which is where Mom and "Joe" slept. One of the girls then turned to me and said, "Stick your tongue out.", and being the ill tempered five year old I was, I screamed, "No!". "Joe" came back to the end of the camper that we were sleeping on, and said, "What did you say to me?" and the girl replied, "He said no to you, Daddy." "Joe" then looked down at me, picked me up by my shirt collar, and slammed me against the wall and punched me in the face several times. I kicked and punched as hard as I could, but eventually gave up. After I was finally released, I cried myself to sleep.

I am now twenty-one years old, and I still have not been able to find forgiveness for him or my mother for what happened to me. I have been to countless therapy sessions due to the emotional disorders I suffer from because of the abuse, which include Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. In 2006, took a trip to visit my mother after I graduated high school. When I got there, "Joe" looked exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him, but my mom looked frail and aged. I decided later on to confront my mom about the abuse and "Joe" overheard. He then claimed that he was trying to punish me and I dodged him and hit my head on a table. My mother, being the one who called my dad and got me out of Arizona due to fear for my safety, stood by "Joe" and proceeded to claim that it "was something my father made me believe to turn me against her".

My mother and may never have a full mother-son relationship due to the abuse and manipulation caused by "Joe". I am still battling disorders, nightmares, and emotions caused by what happened almost seventeen years ago. Childhood abuse can cause suffering all through childhood, and most of adulthood. Most of the serial murderers these days suffered abuse during their childhood and used murder as a way to gain revenge and release anger caused by the abuse.

This is something that is taking me a long time to forgive. How long until I finally get past it?

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