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Thursday, February 18, 2010

E is For Endurance

Getting beat gave an inadequate feeling of shame and unworthy that often accompanied those who had been abused, even though they were just innocent victims. My life started out in the orphanage with these feelings, and a sense of isolation.

The physical abuse came very early once I arrived at the orphanage to live with my aunt. In fact, it was as soon as the first night I cried for my mother. She started by gently scolding me for being spoiled by my parents, reminded me that I was a useless person for society, and that was the reason I was left in the orphanage.


I couldn't stop the sobbing for missing my family, but I could block out her scolding and her verbal assaults. I didn't believe her. I kept woken up crying during the night for the comfort that I was used to. I felt a smack here and there on my body, but they were not as painful as my heart was.

All through the night, the beating became stronger. I felt her hands across my cheeks. I felt her belt across my body. I felt a long stick on my shoulders. I felt a book on my head. That seven year old girl didn't care. She cried harder to go home. We both endured our differences. She gave the beating, "Let see how long you can keep up", and I endured the pain, much, much longer than one beating session.


My first night at the orphanage marked my beginning journey of being a punching bag. It only started at night when I missed my mother then accelerated into the day. Then it became daily, and turned into any time of the day, or whenever she got mad.

Survival instinct kicked in, the little seven year old girl learned to just take it, kept quiet, and went on with life. The beating became something I got used to and had to endure throughout the next eight years.

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16 comments:

  1. That is so sad to hear. Yes, it would take a lot of endurance to survive. Good for you.

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  2. That's a heartbreaking life story. I'm happy you survived. God bless.

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  3. I am so very sad for what you have had to experience.

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  4. Not to diminish what happened to you but nuns were mean back in the day. I'm so glad you were able to endure but eight years was an awful long time.

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  5. Mumsy, my heart is just aching for you and for the poor little child that had to learn to endure her physical assaults. You are a strong woman and a brave one too. I am glad you are now at a place where you can share these memories. God bless.

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  6. You did endure, and YOU survived. You won the battle! Hopefully the battle wounds are now healing.

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  7. Mumsy. I just took a silly "what color are you" quiz somewhere. And I think you are the color Red. Strong, resilient, brave...

    What a story you have to tell.

    I am angered and saddened and joyous you have survived.

    Such E motion you contain in your posts.

    I'm giving a totally non-PC hug here and an A+ for the telling.

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  8. Powerful story here, thanks for sharing it may not always be and easy thing...or maybe blogging is awesome to express that as well!!~ I remember My Mom told me growing up she went to catholic school...the nuns use to take a ruler and whip her hands..she is a lefty and I guess back then that was not good?? Anyhow, she had other stories too not all good. I am sorry you went thru all that...sounds like you overcame a lot though!!~

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  9. This breaks my heart! And, Mumsy, you inspire me. I'm proud to know you!

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  10. i'm so sorry to hear about what you have endured!

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  11. Yours childhood is full of heartbreaking stories. But your life now proves that you were strong and resilient and triumphed over your torturer. And yes, I do believe this was torture. I only hope that by sharing these thoughts, you are able to move past them. Kathy

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  12. The comments on this post are all very sweet. I am also glad to see you've find a way to let it out. When I am able write down painful memories as such, it eases the pain. I hope it did for you too Mumsy!

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  13. Absolutely horrifying! It breaks my heart to hear what children the world over go to. I am so pleased you survived that evilness.

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  14. Thank God for detachment. Still, that sucks.

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