Incest Survivors Support Group
Incest refers to any sexual activity between closely related persons that is illegal or socially taboo. Consensual adult incest is very rare. Incest between adults and prepubescent or adolescent children is a form of child sexual abuse that has been shown to be one of the most extreme forms of childhood trauma. If you or a loved one is a survivor of incest, join the group...
***Possible Triggers***
It's been years and I really have not given it a thought until I came across a post on the site.
My dad and his 4th or 5th wife, I lost count, were both weekend alcoholics. They began drinking on Friday after work and continued through Saturday and Sunday. And, of course, all holidays.
Like clockwork, and without deviation, they went out drinking. And, like clockwork, we could count on them to come home fighting. The fights were scary because they both got physical with each other. She was a big woman, bigger than my dad, but my dad was stronger, so it was almost an even match.
She was close to my dad's age but looked much older. Maybe it was her white hair and old skin, or her masculine build. My dad was handsome and charming and he liked women chasing him. She was insanely jealous--that's what every fight was about; her jealousy; and this went on for the 25 years of their rocky marriage.
We liked it when they went to the bars because we were free for those seven hours, but oh, how we dreaded their return. We could hear them arguing from the moment the car door slammed in the driveway until they got into the house. Then the fights really escalated.
She trashed the dinning room furniture, broke every window on the glassed-in porch in the front and every window in the back. My heart would leap into my throat when she started swearing and cussing about having to take care of us and how we would never amount to anything. I lay in that bed feeling my fear and shame freeze into numbness.
She'd go after him, egging him on until he reacted. If he'd been man enough he would have walked away, but he always lost control, falling for the taunts and ravings. Then he would beat her up; her nose was broken many times, her arm a few times and she had countless black eyes. Black and blue marks showed all over her body the next day.
But, no one said anything the following morning. Dad would mend the broken furniture and we would have to pickup the litter they left behind. These fights were never discussed or even acknowledged. They were first ignored, and then buried. Everyone turned their heads.
But my child self never forgot it. For years after, physical fights would terrify me. Verbal fights with the potential to turn into physical fights would also sound that old warning--and my child self would begin to cry.
She felt alone back then and cried alone. Today, she has me to protect her. Now her tears are tears of joy because she knows I'll never leave her or let anyone hurt her. We walk away from people who have not learned how to control their behavior. And we run from anyone who tries to hurt us.
_______
I just needed to let go of this old history. I've written about it in many journal writings, but I've never shared it with real people. Witnessing is healing. Thank you so much for being here.
SuzA
It's been years and I really have not given it a thought until I came across a post on the site.
My dad and his 4th or 5th wife, I lost count, were both weekend alcoholics. They began drinking on Friday after work and continued through Saturday and Sunday. And, of course, all holidays.
Like clockwork, and without deviation, they went out drinking. And, like clockwork, we could count on them to come home fighting. The fights were scary because they both got physical with each other. She was a big woman, bigger than my dad, but my dad was stronger, so it was almost an even match.
She was close to my dad's age but looked much older. Maybe it was her white hair and old skin, or her masculine build. My dad was handsome and charming and he liked women chasing him. She was insanely jealous--that's what every fight was about; her jealousy; and this went on for the 25 years of their rocky marriage.
We liked it when they went to the bars because we were free for those seven hours, but oh, how we dreaded their return. We could hear them arguing from the moment the car door slammed in the driveway until they got into the house. Then the fights really escalated.
She trashed the dinning room furniture, broke every window on the glassed-in porch in the front and every window in the back. My heart would leap into my throat when she started swearing and cussing about having to take care of us and how we would never amount to anything. I lay in that bed feeling my fear and shame freeze into numbness.
She'd go after him, egging him on until he reacted. If he'd been man enough he would have walked away, but he always lost control, falling for the taunts and ravings. Then he would beat her up; her nose was broken many times, her arm a few times and she had countless black eyes. Black and blue marks showed all over her body the next day.
But, no one said anything the following morning. Dad would mend the broken furniture and we would have to pickup the litter they left behind. These fights were never discussed or even acknowledged. They were first ignored, and then buried. Everyone turned their heads.
But my child self never forgot it. For years after, physical fights would terrify me. Verbal fights with the potential to turn into physical fights would also sound that old warning--and my child self would begin to cry.
She felt alone back then and cried alone. Today, she has me to protect her. Now her tears are tears of joy because she knows I'll never leave her or let anyone hurt her. We walk away from people who have not learned how to control their behavior. And we run from anyone who tries to hurt us.
_______
I just needed to let go of this old history. I've written about it in many journal writings, but I've never shared it with real people. Witnessing is healing. Thank you so much for being here.
SuzA
Yes, it is nice...no strike that, it's wonderful to be away from that.
My husband and I went to check out a new restaurant the other day. It was very classy and the menu sounded great. But, from the minute we walked in and I saw all the nicely dressed men and women sitting at the bar drinking, I wanted to leave.
It's one of the saddest things I see--people wasting their lives at the bar. (No, this is not an indictment against have a drink or two at the bar, but to spend hours there is, in my opinion).
Thanks for your response.
Hugs to you all
xx