Abuse is insidious, taking many shapes, including physical, sexual, verbal, emotional, mental, financial, legal and spiritual expressions. All are damaging. There is more than one kind of wound.

Growing up, I experienced verbal, mental and emotional abuse. That was bad enough. However, the secrecy, shame and the reality that I have often not been believed for my experiences have been just as painful, if not more so, than the initial abuse itself.

Physical abuse has existed within my family. However, I only heard of encounters secondhand, but those secondhand accounts were traumatizing, nonetheless. Certain family members used threats, control and lastly, physical violence to make a point. Male figures hit their female counterparts on the head with hammers and, of course, their fists.

Not surprisingly, unfortunately, the abusers were not arrested. The family, the church and the community protected the abusers by believing them instead of the victims. There was nothing to be done except “mind your own business.”

I directly experienced emotional/mental abuse within that toxic mentality. And it had its own harmful effects. One of them was being believed for that reality. After all, there were no bruises; there were no visible marks.

Therefore, I’ve been in positions in which I had to “prove” that what I experienced was, in fact, abuse and was, in fact, damaging, even though I was never physically struck. Verbal, emotional and mental beatdowns, in some peoples’ minds, didn’t seem to count.

And again, family and the community, too often, rallied around the abuser, defending that person with fervent conviction.

But I was still harmed. Beginning in childhood and resurfacing in some of my encounters as an adult, the abuse experiences I lived instilled a “fear of God,” worst-case scenario as a normal baseline in my being. I learned to fear in that corrosive atmosphere. Power inequity, threats, name calling, humiliation, intimidation and deceit were all just business as usual.

Constant rumblings of perpetual danger, constant messages of needing to keep the peace “or else,” imprinted toxicity into my childhood. I learned this was the way I needed to approach the world. Every interaction required hypervigilance. Every person was a person I needed to please, in order to avoid trouble. I learned silence about reality was mandatory. Family image was more prioritized than truth.
I learned no one would believe me over my more powerful abuser.

I learned emotions weren’t safe.

I learned how to make something pretty on the outside, no matter how ugly or painful it is on the inside. Keep quiet; don’t tell. Be unheard. Continue to walk on those eggshells.

And verbal abuse, inevitably, went along with that.

Who Told/Taught You That?

“You’re never going to amount to anything!”
“You can’t do anything right!”
“You’re so stupid!”
“You’ll never change!”
“You’re no good!”

I heard these statements daily. No, there were not any fists hitting me, but the words were weapon enough.
Because there was an inequity of power (I, especially as a child, had none), I could not defend myself against the daily onslaught of demoralizing statements. They were uttered by adults and authority figures who were not to be challenged or confronted.

The Argument I Couldn’t Win:

The hopelessness was debilitating, because how could I prevail over an adult telling me that I will be nothing, that I am good for nothing? But further injury occurred, as I turned to get help.

I was met with minimization and told me it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Being yelled at and told that I wasn’t going to amount to anything was not a life or death issue. It was just something I had to deal with, that’s all.

Individuals who said these things were often coming from their own physical abuse situations.

So, to them, I suppose, verbal/emotional abuse wasn’t so awful. These individuals were convinced if I would just “try a little harder,” things would be different.

“It’s just words; it’s not that bad.”

And so, I did try harder. It manifested in things like eating disorders, perfectionism and constant anxiety.

Words do create.

And abusive words don’t always have to be the most hateful, venomous insults, either. Sometimes, they can include the word, “love,” but the abuser will distort it for his/her own agendas.

You and I may, indeed, hear, “I love you” from an abuser. But it’s not unconditional love; it has “strings.” It involves some transaction or performance on our part to “earn” and “keep” that love. Pleasing the abuser achieves the love; displeasing disqualifies us from it.

And, there are also too many of us who have never heard the statement, “I love you” from an abuser. Abusive words can take the form of words of omission. Our abuser may withhold, again, to achieve a certain agenda, power or purpose.

We ache to be loved as human beings. Therefore, if we feel that love is “just out of reach,” unattainable or even nonexistent, we learn wrong things about ourselves, about healthy relationships and about life itself.

Yes, It Is Abuse!

And then, there’s another kind of abuse, the disbelief…

You and I can encounter this form of abuse as we share our experiences. Again, we can tell a supposedly “trusted” family member, friend, teacher, coach, co-worker, doctor, attorney or member of the clergy or the police about our plight.

And, instead of getting support and help, we get accused and punished. We get doubt about what we’ve experienced.

(Uttered about our abuser) “I just love ______. He/she is SOOO nice, sweet, funny…”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“At least you weren’t beaten.”
“Unless he/she was arrested for it, you can’t prove it happened.”

It’s all too common with any reports of violence: abuse, rape, sexual harassment. The MeToo Movement may help with some of that harmful disbelief.

But still, too often the burden is upon the abused person to prove heinous things are done. We are not given the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, many times, the only person who experiences that benefit is the abuser.

I know there are some people who falsely declare they were abused as a financial moneymaker.

But, most of the children and adults reporting a violating act or set of circumstances are, indeed, being abused.

We complain about “the system.” It’s broken, imperfect, overwhelmed. They are too many cases on the docket. There is too much legal red tape.

But we still cannot get away from one disturbing truth. It’s not about intent. It’s about IMPACT.

If someone approaches us and tells us they were abused, do we believe them?

I have been abused.

Do you believe me?

That is the starting point. That can be the determination between getting help… or getting abused all over again.

Copyright © 2019 by Sheryle Cruse