Yes I got smacked, slapped and hit, I can't really remember too much but some occasions were bad, especially the repeated slappings.
The fear of confronting an extremely angry person was probably worse than the actual violence, but the trauma from that I think is underappreciated a great deal and is more likely to make you (a) cower or (b) dish out physical violence in response to a threat or disagreement as well, neither of which are useful ways of dealing with conflict and both just make you more vulnerable to danger. I also got into fights with my brothers who were stronger than me and they were deliberately arseholes winding up etc.
The worst thing was more "I will hit you so hard that...", "You won't know what hit you" etc., the threats and emotional trauma there were worse because they were normally in response to something ridiculous like, being upset about a decision, playing too much games or making a sarcastic comment etc. which upon reflection most would consider pretty harmless. It was more a stress response to a lot of other things and so I think my parents (who split up) would regret it but I still resent the "technique" because it doesn't achieve anything but pain.
Albear wrote:This is a very depressing/sobering thread.
Sorry about that. Wasn't my intention to bring the mood down. Guess we're all a bit strawberry floated up in one way or another.
I wonder if our more unpleasant experiences as children had a huge impact with regards to our love of video games? Computer and video games have been with me since I was about 9-10 years old. About the same age I recall any real knowledge of being smacked/hit by my parents combined with bullying at school.
Wow, on reflection what a gooseberry fool time of it. No wonder I delved into so many pastimes. Computer games, table top rpgs, comics etc. All good forms of escapism.
I don't think I was ever smacked or hit, or at least not that I have any recollection of. TBH if I did something wrong the threat of "I'll tell your dad" was enough to scare the hell out of me, simply because him raising his voice and shouting was utterly terrifying, and if he was angry then I knew I'd strawberry floated up, as he was always the laid back one. If I ever have kids then I wouldn't hit them either. I can kind of see how a quick slap on the back of the hand might help to teach a child that something is wrong but it's more the 'shock' of it that would have an affect I think, and that would be the motivation rather than trying to cause any pain or harm. Still probably wouldn't do it myself though.
My parents were scary when they lost their temper, my dad especially, but violence was rare and I was never beaten up. I was spanked on the bottom, or smacked on the hand, but not super often. It was generally enough for my parents to just shout at me.
My dad was in the navy and went overseas a lot. He went to new Zealand and brought back a Maori scalping club which was to be ornamental. However, it quickly became something which was used on me. It was affectionately referred to by my parents as, "The smacky bum stick". This is what it was:
Not that exact one but very similar. It's made of a single piece of solid heavy wood and was probably the size of a breadknife in length. Any sort of acting up would result in the smacky bum stick being used on me, and I mean this thing would be twatted across the backs of my legs and bare arse. I was strawberry floating terrified of it. (Was probably 6 or 7 at the time). I wasn't even a misbehaving kid.
Worse still was dad was away for months at a time, leaving mum on her own to look after me and my sister, who had started to figure out she could just say I'd done something and mum would go straight for me without question. I remember once we were both playing with my Lego, she got the hump about something and just shouted, "muuuum, Ad pulled my hair!" With a gooseberry fool eating grin on her face. Stomp stomp stomp here comes mum, grabs me by the back of the neck on my t-shirt and hit me with the club, then when I protested my innocence, threw me against the front door while my sister feigned tears. So that was nice. That sort of thing happend a lot.
Also when dad was back (and we'd move back to England at this point and I was about 12), she would shout and scream at him on a daily basis, blood curdling deep Harvey dent SAY IT volume shouting. Which always, and I mean always, would result in her then storming upstairs to take it out on me. This would normally take the form of just screaming at me for having an untidy room (I was 12 ffs and it was toys and lego). Luckily the club was gone by now, but I'd be a strawberry floating WRECK every time i heard an argument downstairs kick off, becuase I was always going to get the end of it. My sister's room was a gooseberry fool tip (she's a hoarder like dad was) but she never got so much as a telling off because she's so precious and speshul x. Even now if I feel an argument or something similar is brewing with me and my wife (which is no more than one of us saying something a bit twatty), I'll start tidying my side of the bedroom like some beaten dog, even though there's no need. It's Pavlovian.
Once I asked my dad why my sister got away with so much and had so much more attention given to her, he told me it's because, "she's brighter than YOU". He also used to mock me for being terrible at maths (I can barely count, I swear I've got some undiagnosed numerical mental condition), like he'd laugh in my face and take the piss out of me for asking for help with homework. If I couldn't do a mental arithmetic thing, I'd get this laugh, "OH dear ) and a head shake.
Oh and about 6 months before he died, he tried to put his hands down my pants in the pub. Which was nice.
Tldr: physical abuse leads to mental abuse, leads to more abuse.
Ad7 wrote:Even now if I feel an argument or something similar is brewing with me and my wife (which is no more than one of us saying something a bit twatty), I'll start tidying my side of the bedroom like some beaten dog, even though there's no need. It's Pavlovian.
Genuinely teared up at this bit. Sorry to hear about your experiences, what a nasty situation.
And the same goes for everyone else in the thread who has had a rough time as a child.
I never had it a that bad, but I would get a smack on the bum or back of the legs now and again. Wouldn't dream of doing it to my kids if I had any as I feel it only really breeds fear of that repercussion and resentment than properly teaching any lessons. I don't really hold it against my parents for not knowing a better way of dealing with things though and it's not really had any long term effect on me that I can tell, but I certainly don't approve of it as a form of punishment.
as I got older into my teens my dad and I would fight but being as I didnt really have a growth spurt until I was 16 or so it was a little one sided
one time my friend called round in the morning so we could walk to school, same as every day, and my dad and I had a disagreement about something and he ended up picking me up by my throat and carrying me through the house and slamming me against the wall in front of my mate - he didnt call around again lol
I think part of the problem is that my ma and da would argue and I was generally the most shitty behaved and the oldest so I got the brunt of it, I wasnt a crier or anything and would not give them the satisfaction of bowing to being whacked which probably escalated it