Lately, some have said I make this journey seem easy, so let me share this story with you! Writing about this is somewhat confusing and cathartic. So here goes.


Wow, me at 25:  Rochester Red Wings, triple A for Orioles.

This is my story, not my reaction or journey battling it.
What do you do if your abusers were your parents (Complex childhood PTSD). My family, five members now deny my abuse, refuse to acknowledge I have PTSD and disown me as part of the family.



They have moved on I am told. That sounds like code words. It means I remain an outcast, protecting the honor of a dead man and family trumps my suffering.



My crime was to ask for help. To have the audacity to speak about the family being anything but perfect. Sort of more abuse piled on.



A little background: My dad was a violent, abusive narcissist.



Example: Every Thursday my mother would cook Lima beans. Every Thursday I would try to eat, then vomit those damn Lima beans. My father then would beat me with a large paddle, drilled with holes to inflict more pain, until he got tired.   He was extremely upset, extremely emotional and out of control.  He enjoyed beating  that helpless little boy.



Flippantly I describe this as shits and giggles from dad. He was letting me know he did not need a reason to control me. A narcissist’s way of telling you he owns your ass, completely. I was in danger inside that home.



He did not need a reason to abuse me, and I better be afraid, rang loud and clear.  Abandoning me was implied constantly.  Conditioned love ruled.  The better I played the fewer beatings I received.



My father used constant criticism as his tool for parenting me. He told me at five that I was going to be a professional baseball player. It was not a request. He said I needed to be twice as good as everyone else, so he never would be questioned as my coach. Oh yea he followed me as coach.



I gained some superior skills surviving this childhood. Never did I find peace, worthiness or joy. I played professionally for six years and have been inducted in three hall of fames. Nothing big, high school, town and college. I thought I was a complete failure. Achievement did not dent my unworthy little boy.



I was most valuable player for 15 year olds in the state of Ohio. My dad criticized me that day for an imperfection in his eyes. Perfection was demanded by this monster.



My mother told me, every breath my dad took was for me. Wow, that is a lot of responsibility for a ten year old!



Having a father who physically and emotional abused me daily, devastated most of my years on this planet. Never did he say a kind word to me.


Now, there exists a hollow spot, a void, inside me. I share these specific details hopefully to help others deal with their first caregivers.



How do we navigate holidays, family?



Continued if there is interest. I have refrained from talking specifics but maybe this will help some who face similar issues. I have this perverse fear my family can still hurt me.

How about your journey?



5 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Anonymous on January 25, 2018 at 4:51 am

    I feel that sharing your story helps others, but most of all it helps you in your healing process! Marty thank you for being so candid. You are an inspiration ❣️

  2. Thank you for sharing Marty. Great to see a pic of you too. Not great to hear the emotion and physical abuse attached to the story. I’m so sorry.

    My father was also a very violent man too. I don’t think he enjoyed it, I think he went into a homicidal like rage. He tried unsuccessfully to kill all of us kids, more then once. Dislocated his shoulder during belting my brother with a golf stick. Beautiful example of karma, I tell myself. Strangled me to the point of my passing out. I woke up hearing mum pulling him off me.

    But there’s never ever been any recognition or acknowledgement of his ownership in his behavior. I’m waiting for an apology that will never come. He thinks he’s a good God fearing Christian. Mum believes it too.

    The way I process it is through compassion, for myself but for him too. Only someone who was severely broken himself could emotionally and physically abuse those he loved the most. I see him as ‘disabled’ somehow. Broken. It’s easier then to believe he’s an outright asshole with anger management issues.

    Christmas? Holidays? Why do you think i live in the US when I’m an Aussie. I have the perfect excuse not to attend, every time. 👌🏼

  3. Thanks

    I moved from the Midwest to Oregon

    Amazing how our abuse has changed us. I am the opposite of my father, a giver and I help others.

    I handle forgiveness this way.

    He was
    A narcissist and maybe he did his best, not for me to judge.

    I let
    Him be responsible
    For his life

    I am responsible for mine

  4. I’m the polar opposite too. Thanks for sharing this and opening up about it. It’s super interesting to hear how others have moved past difficult childhoods. 😌✌🏼

  5. Surprising the spiritual journey launched by childhood abuse

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