Member-only story
I Wished my Dad Would Break my Jaw
I desperately needed someone to see my pain.
[He was my step dad. He legally adopted me and became “dad”. My biological father was not a part of my life.]
It was a strong thought that I carried. I wished that my dad would hit me so hard that he would break my jaw.
I remember the feelings. The trauma that my dad was unleashing on us was too much. How can I put that mass of emotion into a few words? What he did to us was terrifying, stunning, shocking, traumatizing, excruciating, unbearable pain. I believed he would kill us. And I knew that dying would be a relief from the pain. There was no way to know what he would do or when. For me it was having to live, knowing that the next “explosion” could hit at any time. He was explosive. The mental, emotional, psychological and physical effects are shattering.
I felt alone, helpless and hopeless. I poured my heart out in the most urgent, desperate, fervent prayers. I pleaded continually. I needed an almighty God to help us. At some point over the years as the intensity and desperation continued and grew, I began to ask God to “save him or take him out”. I desperately needed the pain to stop.
There was no way out. I continually, mentally calculated all possibilities of escape. The only way I could see, was to get through college and make…
