The 5-yr-old

harmony

Brick created on 17/08/2008 @ 12:41

Your brick story

NONE OF THIS WILL MAKE PLEASANT READING SO BEWARE

I’m writing it for therapeutic reasons.

I was born in 1953 and started school in 1958. I had a beautiful a young teacher who was totally horrid and cruel to me.

I has a stammer which started when I began school, which coincided with a new baby at home and a family member starting to sexually abuse me: new baby meant I was less protected by parents as I had to vacate my space in their bedroom and move to share a room with 3 older siblings. There were 9 children in my family - space was at a premium.

Because I had difficulty reading, this teacher would have me stand at her desk for what seemed like big chunks of time. She would have me read to her and she would slap me on the back of my bare thighs every time I made a mistake. Her hand would hover terrifyingly just under my skirt, at the ready to strike me every time I made a mistake. I think she used to nip me too - or I made that thought up somewhere in the years since.

I made lots of mistakes and I'd go home with red weals on my thighs most days. I'm sure I didn't say anything about it at home as I thought I was just a bad girl who couldn’t read - however, I remember that once my mother went up to complain (forgot until now that she did that - first and only time in my life that she tried to rescue me from any situation!) Maybe she noticed the red marks, I don't remember.

Nothing stopped and I got hit just about every day. I was a lot to cope with as I was already getting sexually used several times a week. And also - my mother was a very violent woman whose speciality was to slap faces. (She never ever hit us in front of my father who wasn't a violent man - he didn't need to be - one word form him and we jumped almost out of our skins and immediately did whatever he said) My mother tended to fuss over me on my way out of the house, brushed my coat, hit me on the legs with the brush more often than not, went through my pockets, handled me roughly and very often slapped my face just as I was leaving for school - for many many years, for "just in case" (in case of what? In case I should ever have any good thought about myself?) At the point where parents would usually kiss and hug a child, my mother NEVER did that - she slapped me: did it to all of us. If I couldn't slip out before she saw me I knew what was coming.

So there we have it. 5 years old: violent teacher, violent mother, being sexually abused, laughed at by other kids because of my severe stammer – also had to suffer every night with my mother tying rags in my hair she that she could have me in wringlets. Agony - she'd yank me around by the hair and ignore my pleading to get my hair cut; I'd be in tears every single night.

Not much of a foundation for happiness was it? I don’t know how I survived really, except that I think I cut myself off into little chunks. I sort of had lots of selves at different ages - maybe I started on a new self every new school year, I don’t know. Many years later in therapy I remember being surprised that I could pinpoint exact age and talked about my 5-y-old, my 6-year-old, my 9-year-old etc as if they were not really a part of ‘me’ (they all became part of me eventually).

The connection to the picture? That same teacher taught the class how to ‘take a line for a walk’ that year – ie without taking the pen off the page at all, make shapes. You then colour in the shapes. I loved doing it and I think I ‘escaped’ into it. The teacher wouldn’t ever let us use black or purple because it was too messy – and I’d use purple
and just accept the consequences. I had some spirit, even then. I knew I needed purple in my pictures.

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Comments

17/08/2008 @ 16:04 Mebenji said

Hi Harmony,

Just a thought about taking the line for a walk - I imagine you in the line, or are the line, and all the colours are your imagined scenery through which you travel - not the reality, as you have noticed yourself, if this is an escape, I think of an imagined landscape, a bright, beautiful and gentle landscape where you can relax and be at peace...does that make sense to your feelings about it?

(((HUGS)))), warm and friendly, for you,

-Mebenji
17/08/2008 @ 17:24 roze said

Such a fracturing experience as a child. I cannot even imagine ever hurting a child and a slap in the face is particularly brutal. I admire that you were able to bring them all back together and somehow find a memory of your own courage in childhood to put on this brick. Love roze
17/08/2008 @ 22:44 Brown Bear said

I'm lost for words. That an innocent child cold be treated so badly by her MOTHER beggars belief. BB
18/08/2008 @ 13:51 harmony said

Hi Mebenji. Roze and BB
Thank you for your kind words. This is only the beginning of a sorry tale of life. I feel I need to lay it all out in words bits by bit - but it won't make pleasant t reading. It's so esy for achild to feel i was all her fault becsue she was unloveable and sort of carry that thought forward from then on. it is so clear, when word are written to see that I as a child was completely innocent. NONE of it was my fault.
I am going to tackle my innner 6/7yr old next and carry on getting the words written down.
Cheers all
x Harmony
18/08/2008 @ 17:27 Mebenji said

I'm so encouraged, in the litteral meaning of the word; you give me courage, Harmony - to face it, to write it, to allow us to view it all takes courage...You are YOU; that is not a fault at all, never was, never can be...never forget. I'm sorry your mother didn't/couldn't see YOU - she was obviously looking at something else, some projection from her own mind that blinded her to you. Maybe my step-mother did that too? I dont' know if that helps - or even if it is true - just a thought I have just had. Mskes me wonder, of all the thoughts we might have about how and why someone would treat a child so badly, would it make a substanial difference if we knew exactly how and why, or if we stumble around, land on some idea that makes sense to us (whether it is true or not in FACT) and hold to that because it helps us, but in any event, does it ease the pain??? I'm sorry I haven't expressed this thought very clearly...
I'll be here, thinking of you, holding you in my heart, Harmony, hugging you close whenever you need,
-Mebenji
20/08/2008 @ 17:42 harmony said

Hi
THanks to everyone for your respnses. Floowing on form writing this I did some more writing about piabful things over the following 2 days and ended up so upset and feeling so emeotionally overwrought that I was off work for 2 days on instructions of my MD, who, luckily enough, if a very understanding man. I had a counseelign seeiosn last eve and have another the nexyt week and then the week after and feel relived that i will have that support over the next few weeks. I havent been so emotionally wiped out for some years. All part of the process.
Thanks for being there.
love harmony
20/08/2008 @ 18:16 harmony said

Clearly its all affectred my capacity to spell correctly!!!!!