A CHILDHOOD SURVIVED

Childhood Survival

Inhale those two words for a second. For most people, it is hard to grasp that those two words could exist next to one another. Most have a hard time comprehending the concept of childhood survival let alone that they may have survived childhood. I challenge you to reflect on your childhood, there is a good chance that you too survived.

Childhood Experiences

Was there ever excessive alcohol/drug use in the home? Did you experience spankings/beatings and/or fear from experiencing those things? Was there sexuality experienced in your home, whether towards you or that you witnessed? Did you experience violence, mom and dad confrontations, fighting and fear in your neighborhood (maybe gang violence), yelling at you, etc.? These, and many more, incidences contributed negatively to your childhood experience and you most likely suffer from a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) because of it. These negative childhood experiences affected you in ways that you have no idea and forced you to formulate techniques to survive in that climate. At some point in your life, if you are like me, you came to realize that what you learned to survive childhood does not translate well in your adult experience and relationships. Some people became very fragile and cannot cope with or fully participate and enjoy life. Some people became gladiators, fighting everybody and everything. I became a gladiator!!

Recovery Help

I then found the 12-Step program Al-Anon/Adult Children of Alcoholics and Other Family Dysfunctions (ACA), and my life has never been the same. During my very early entrance into recovery, I found it helpful to journal. I began writing poetry as a way to express my sorrows, my pain, and my recovery. “Shattered”, a poem included in my book “A Gladiator’s Journey” (agladiatorsjourney.com), is dissected below providing insight to the pain that I have lived with.

Shattered

The crack of the whip began at a tender age
Ensuing years bore attempts to corner and cage
In the quest to pursue some other kind
You are not enough, my mind would opine
The resiliency was solid through this adversity I faced
And the protection of armor as I walked through the place
Although the fight was valiant, I have been broken at last
No more arrows to fire and no more rocks to cast
I no longer answer to Kunte Kinte, to this I vow
As I hang from the gallows, call me Toby now
Like Leonidas, in defeat I lay down my shield
Revealing my underbelly of which I now yield
For the definitive fatal blow for you to give
And then rip it right out of me as I can no longer live
I have been beaten into submission and I can take no more
Only God knows now what lies in store
The weakness is now exposed for you to see
I need you to express this last breath out of me
For it pains me to be this broken man
Please, I beg of you, make it as quick as you can

A Childhood Broken
The beatings began at an early age. This instilled fear of my adults as well as fear of being able to share anything with them, whether my own fears, hurts, or successes. Thus, began the iceberg of aloneness. I often wonder, why the beatings? Upon reflection, the beatings were for things that children normally do because they are learning their world. Touching things that may be fragile or not eating things that are not tasty to them at that age. As I got older there was no reprieve only now they could withhold more, like not allowing me to participate in a basketball tournament, or not allowing me to eat anything because I didn’t want to eat the liver that was prepared for the evening meal. This subconsciously told me I was no good, I was not important and I was not good enough to show compassion to. So when I attempted to date someone outside of my race, it was natural to expect the reaction from her parents that she couldn’t date me because of my skin color, thus providing further confirmation that I was not good enough. This caused me to formulate an armor of protection, in reality it was more of a mask of toughness. However, what I wasn’t able to see is that buried deep inside me what a scared, lonely child that wanted love, compassion, and guidance. This mask of toughness displayed to people that I didn’t need them and I could take care of everything on my own. This has proven to have been a huge burden to carry. This burden got heavier over the years and became too much to handle. I came to realize that I had finally been broken. I could no longer fight; my mind just could not take it anymore. In the movie/book, “Roots”, Kunte Kinte was broken and finally acquiesced to calling himself Toby. Like Kunte Kinte, I broke. Like great warriors in the face of defeat, I laid down my shield and wished for a swift deadly blow because I could no longer fight or carry the burden. I was shattered at last.

Hope

But, there is hope. I share my journey of recovery from a childhood survived in order to provide you hope, strength, and courage that you can recover as well.

 

Please click on the blog tab to journey with me.