Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Freaky Head Games (With Beatings Thrown In For Fun)

I touched on this already in the previous post (the one where I mentioned having to smile at all times).  NAM was adamant that I keep a pleasant look on my face at all times.  I was not allowed to cry or to "frown up" after she screamed at me, threatened me with violence and bodily harm, or beat me.  I was ordered not to bring everyone down with my "moodiness."

So after she would (literally) jerk me around, pull my hair, repeatedly hit me, scream at me, slap and punch me, I was supposed to put a smile on my face and join in on whatever conversation was going on.  I was not allowed to go to my room and "pout."  If she saw me crying, she would become enraged and accuse me of looking for a shoulder to cry on or of trying to "punish her."

And speaking of her accusations:

I was three years old when I went to live with her and AF.  She started the beatings within a few weeks of my arrival, so you can imagine that her screaming violence scared the shit out of me.  So I did what most children would do: keep quiet and don't make trouble, and maybe she'll stop soon.  Well, that didn't work.  She would yell at me for not "fighting back" and would accuse me of giving her "go to hell looks."  She would claim that I was "punishing" her by not saying anything while she raged at me and beat me.  She would claim that I had evil eyes, and that I was trying to burn holes in her with my stares.  Honestly, I tried to avoid looking at her at all, just as one would avoid looking a charging animal in the eye because the beast would see it as a threat and would attack.

I don't know which was worse, the mental craziness or the pain of getting the shit kicked out of me.  I've read that some prefer to be hit than to be mind-fucked.  If it's a direct hit and nothing else, I could see that.  But when you're being dragged around the room by your hair, shaken, kicked, slapped, and more--and it goes on for, oh, I don't know, a good half-hour?  Hard to say.

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