A Different Language
Growing up my childhood was a rollercoaster to say the least...good times and bad. I can remember exactly what I was doing, wearing and even saying at some of these exact times. If you have never had someone angrily wash dishes in your directions or fold laundry while looking at you scornfully, how are you then going to understand why I get nervous when you quietly do the laundry, or why I ask, "Are you mad at me?" when you set the bag of groceries on the counter too hard. It's a totally different way of living and it impacts you long after you have left it. Abused kids speak a language you cannot possibly begin to learn or understand. Often this "language" is misinterpreted, its not so much the act of folding a sock angrily at you is abusive, but the conditioned response because of what is to follow is. It's more about sitting there terrified to speak or move, and waiting for when they will snap, and feeling like you are walking on eggshells as to not...