Monday, 2 July 2012

Misplaced Anger

I remember an argument I was having with my father. I think I was about 14 yrs old, and following an accident at work, he was confined to the house with a plaster-cast on his leg.
I don't remember what we were arguing about, just my reaction, which as always back then, was way over the top.

I'd been swearing at both him and my mother for some reason, and this resulted in him chasing me through the house on crutches.

I goaded him with threats and general verbal abuse.
the situation got so that he was hobbling up the stairs, and I was standing at the top, and with no warning, I spat directly into his face. He closed his eyes and stood there, balancing on his crutches. after a few minutes, he somehow turned round and went struggling back down the stairs.

I'd won . . . or so i thought at the time, but I was very wrong.

The school teacher who groomed and led me into the sordid world of child ponography - the middle-aged couple who inflicted their own perverse abuse on me - they were the ones who were winning - winning by my slience alone.

I was angry with everyone and everything around me - I didn't know what to do, or who to turn to - and I was hurting. And because I was hurting, my family was hurting as well.

Child abuse doesn't just tear the victim's soul apart - it destroys whole families. It bores itself into the very heart, and rips it from the ribcage with a vengence.

I kept the secret for almost thirty years. I used drugs, alcohol, and violence to try and mask how I was feeling inside, when all I should have done, was tell my parents.

Child Abuse Destroys Entire Lives - Don't Let It Ruin Yours!


  1. What a heart wrenching tale. Be blessed, Simon Palmer. May you always have the strength you need to find the beauty inside your soul.

    All the Best,

    1. Thans for your kind words Rionna, they are most kind.