This photo was taken when I was 20 months old by my father.
This was my dad’s way of supporting my mother in her cruel treatment of me. This was just the beginning of what was to become 16 years of harrowing child abuse. This is what extreme desperation looks like. My mother is glaring at me with contempt from the left side of this photo. She is punishing me by making me wipe up the floor. This was when I still assumed I was alone…a victim of my mother’s rage. It was like she needed to torment me in order to feel better about something she carried inside her and I knew this even at this early age. My dad supported her inner unresolved torment.
Shocked by what was happening I was becoming extremely desperate.
My mom was hard, angry, and very strict. Her hatred for me defied reason. It was such a shock to me. I just had to find a way out. Her wrath was non-stop child abuse, both mentally and physically. What did I get myself into? What did I do wrong? Every day was just more of the same. This was a special kind of hell that I knew I had to escape from.
Right around the same time this photo was taken, I ran away from home.
It was just another day of rage from my mom and my knee-jerk reaction was to get out of there as fast as I could. I felt so threatened that I took off looking for my dad. For some reason, my intuition showed me which way to go. I was sure I would find him and that he would save me from her.
On my way to find my dad, two police officers picked me up about 2 miles from home walking down the median of the expressway. I was barefoot, in diapers, and wearing a baby snap-on shirt. They asked me where I was going and I told them, “I’m going to find my daddy…there’s something wrong with my mommy.” When they asked me where I lived, I wouldn’t tell them. So, they took me to the candy store and bribed me with my favorite goodies and then asked me again to show them where I lived. I felt relieved because I had something in my hand that made me feel good. And, at that moment, I became vulnerable to telling them the truth about where I lived. Turn by turn, I showed them how to get back to my house.
They knocked on the door and my mom opened it with the most shocked look on her face. She immediately covered up her anger with a false demeanor of concern about me being gone. When she closed the door and the police officers were gone she grabbed the candy out of my hands, threw it in the garbage, and beat me so badly I couldn’t walk.
I passed out on the floor from total exhaustion only to wake up in a puddle of water, right back in the hell I tried to escape from.
The puddle of water along with my wet hair now makes me think that my mom tossed water on me to revive me. However, when I woke up she was not around. I now realized that I couldn’t run away from this, so I began to ask for help but didn’t know who I was asking. To my surprise, I got answers and support for the first time ever. I didn’t know what this was, but I knew it was real and they were on my side. Finally, someone was on my side – someone was there…someone who loved me! This was the very beginning of what was to become the powerful life coach training I would receive from my “Spirit Guides and Angels” throughout the rest of my life. Theyraised me, not the parents I was born to. ~ Linda Deir
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