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Concluesion on effects of divorce on children
Effects divorce has on children
The effect of divorce on children
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One December 24, 2006, was my parents ' 23rd wedding anniversary, sadly instead of celebrating it, they split up that morning. I witness my mother trying to kill herself by swallowing sleeping pills while my father was handing her one liter of Sprite. I had made a wedding anniversary the night before for my parents but instead I ended up burning the card I had worked on hours the night before. I remember I ran outside after I burned the card, screaming and wishing the ordeal was a dream. I couldn 't believe what I had witnessed. I was only 13 years old. My parents ' gave me different types of the trait such as bad temper, good work ethic, and being a great guest has helped me shape into the woman I am now.
Growing up my family lived a "double-life". To the outside world, I had the most loving and respected family the whole town knew and loved but closed doors it was hell. My father physically and verbally abused me, my siblings and my mother for a very long time. My father would beat me up with a phone cable until drops of blood were falling off of me for little things I would do wrong such as getting dirty outside or playing with little boys. My mother would sometimes join my father when it was time to hit my siblings and me. I knew by the way force of the beatings of my parents ' were doing to me it was a stress reliever more than teaching me how to respect them. My mother hardly disagrees with my father because the moment she would it is when my father would beat her and rape her in their room. I thought that was okay my mom would come out with a bruise on her face after they left their room because my mom would tell me " We like to play a lot with each other, no worry my child". My grandparents who lived with my family did...
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...nt or pitch to have more things at a party. I asked my mom once why my father and she were very strict on me every time we were attending parties, my mom answer was " So people can respect our family and never question what we actual do behind closed door". It makes sense to me now that I am older what my parents ' message was every time we went to a party.
I never went to counseling to help me deal with my family issues or with my suicidal attempts, self-therapy has helped me understand things I cannot change from my past especially my upbringing. Coping skills worksheets and having a good support group in my life has helped me control my temper and try to look at the positive of my past. The positive traits my family has given me are the ones I am grabbing onto closely because these traits helped shaped me to be an independent, compassionate, and ambition woman.
I’ve never heard of any childhood quite like yours. I was shocked by the personality and character of your parents and how they raised you and your sibilings, “The Glass Castle”. I understand why people call your parents monsters. I will admit that the thought crossed my own mind on multiple occasions. However, I have also never read a book or a memoir that required so much thinking . With every page I read I was able to learn about the struggles & hardships you dealt with as a child and I tried to see a deeper meaning. When I did that, I saw your parent’s intentions behind everything they did. I began to understand what you saw and still see in your parents.
Most of my kindergarten to fourth grade years were spent in Peoria. We were a mixed family; my mother, sister, and I, with Gary Toubeau (stepfather), Tyler (stepbrother), and Michelle (stepsister). Gary had only seen a mixed family, whenever he has to choose between his children or his step children. Tyler abused this and the fact that he was the oldest, usually resulting in Tyler’s way many times. Michelle was different from the other two. Michelle, also known as, “Showie,” would spend more time with her “mixed family members” rather than her “real family.” One day, my mom had enough of Gary’s abusive treatment, when he actually physically touched her (as if he were going to hit her). The divorce ended bitterly, as Gary had found a
My parents and I have always been outwardly enthusiastic about each other, no matter where we are. Whether at a football game while I cheer on the sidelines or at a banquet where I receive an award, every time they catch my eye, they throw their hands up in the air and begin to wave frantically until I wave back. There were only two girls left in front of me. One stuttered as she tried to finish her speech, and the other swayed back and forth, unable to keep still. It was at that time that I looked into the crowd and, just as I had anticipated, I spotted my parents.
Psychological maltreatment, like many other forms of abuse can also be passed down through intergenerational transmission. It is not unlikely for parents to psychologically mistreat their children due to their own past or childhood experiences with psychologically abuse. For example, it is not uncommon during the course of an investigation of physiological maltreatment that it is discovered that the perpetrator had their own form of abuse history in the past. Often time’s people look at psychological maltreatment as a consequence resulting from some other form of abuse, mainly physical and sexual, but tend to overlook the fact that it may also occur as an individual form. Psychological maltreatment can take more than one form. During the course of researching for this paper I learned that there are three typical forms of behavior in which people follow when displaying this type of abuse against children. The three types are acting in an aggressive, rejecting, and lessening
It is essential for individuals to succeed in the counseling process with the proper support from family members. This may even give individuals a chance to reconnect with family.
Most children have unpleasant parts of their childhood, and I am no different. My parents divorced when I was very young, but my mom was able to keep us. This only lasted for a period of four years, then I was taken from my mom and given to my dad. It did not take long for my situation with my father to turn into an abusive one. My father did not abuse me much, but he stood back as others were more than willing to fill in for him.
family are ways one could rethink twice about committing suicide. When it comes to therapy,
At 10, I never knew whether my father would be sober, reasonable, even pleasant - or drunk, argumentative and abusive. On one February day with four inches of snow on the ground and a freezing rain falling, I was walking home from my cousin's house in the early evening and saw my father lying on the soggy, snow-covered sidewalk. I didn't know what my father would do if I roused him, and I was afraid to find out. Perhaps, subconsciously, I hoped my father wouldn't waken at all. I continued on, did nothing, said nothing. This I will remember with guilt for the rest of my life.
I was fourteen years old when my life suddenly took a turn for the worse and I felt that everything I worked so hard for unexpectedly vanished. I had to become an adult at the tender age of fourteen. My mother divorced my biological father when I was two years old, so I never had a father. A young child growing up without a father is tough. I often was confused and wondered why I had to bring my grandfather to the father/daughter dance. There was an occurrence of immoral behavior that happened in my household. These depraved occurrences were often neglected. The first incident was at the beach, then my little sisters’ birthday party, and all the other times were overlooked.
Now that I am in the counseling program I have become aware of the dysfunctional family that I have grew up in. Growing up I remember my father was never around. There is a memory I will never forget it seems blurry but I remember my parents arguing and becoming angry. I went into a room and when I came out I saw my father’s hand bleeding. My mother was holding a kitchen knife and she had cut his hand. Since my father was hardly around we never had family trips or family time together. He would spend his weekends drinking or going out with his friends. I have another memory that stands out. I remember I was in the back seat of the car and my mom was dropping of my dad somewhere. They were arguing the whole way over there, once we got to the destination my dad got off and walked out. I can imagine this affected my mother as a woman because her needs were not being
Due to the circumstances that I had to live my life with I was disowned by my family all because my parents were ashamed of the person I was becoming, not heeding’s to their teachings of not letting the environment I was in getting the better of me but I should use the place I was as a reference to be better in life, I didn’t blame them at all because I could only imagine back then how block
Abuse can happen to anyone, at any age, at any time. This is repetitive acts of behavior of wanting to maintain power and have control over someone whether it be through childhood, adolescents, or adulthood. This subject is sensitive as it impacts so many different people around the world. The topic of abuse is not just a family matter, it comes in all forms, such as sexual, emotional, and physical. Abuse is accompanied by the long term emotional tolls, especially on children because their brains are still developing and can take abuse harder than others. One question to ask, is how does one overcome abuse? As children and adolescents develop, how do they function emotionally and physically? These traumatic experiences that happen through
At the age of 11, my parents decided to reunite, and this became my lifelong struggle with trust, mistrust and development of strength and courage to achieve my dreams and goals in life. My mother continued to work long, hard hours while my father golfed, gambled and drank, to what most people would consider “the extreme”. During my school years, I ran our household while my mom worked. I made sure the house was clean and dinner was always on the table for my father, which left no time for a social life. My dad was abusive towards my mom and I would feel helpless as I listened from my room to him physically and mentally abusing her. After many years of not having the courage to help her, I finally at the age of 16 gave her an ultimatum. Either she leaves the abusive relationship or I would leave, so I would not have to endear the pain of it any longer.
It was on a Friday morning at 4:30 A.M. that happiness and joy filled the hearts of both my parents. I was born on November 29, 1996 at Broward General Hospital in Fort Lauderdale Florida. My parents had five children, and among the five children that they had, I was the third (or middle) child from them. It started off as two boys, then I came along as the first girl, after it was another boy, then finally, another baby girl; so total was three boys and two girls. The way that my parents lived and treated each other was the same as if any other married couple that loved each other so much. They’ve gone through a lot to get to where they are now today, but they made it and along the way had us five children. They have been really strong with each other which made them only have the five of us and no other step children. My mom is a great cook and enjoy cooking for us; this is probably where my passion for culinary comes from. My dad is an amazing tailor, he is very good at making our clothes, and my passion for fashion probably came from him. My dad is also a teacher, one of the best math teacher I know, he is passionate about his job and his family is the center of his universe. I cannot finish this chapter without mentioning my grandmother, I was lucky enough to have ever met. I had spent part of my life time with her, like the rest of the family she is sweet, my grandmother Abelus,
It was around 2:00pm and it was time to open presents. I started with opening friend’s presents then I opened families. I was finally done opening all my presents. I looked around at all the people, who were looking at me and my dad was nowhere to be. That was the only present that I was looking forward too. The party ended and my dad didn’t show up, my little four years old hopes were in the ground, it was like I could feel my heart ripping appart. I looked at my mom and she mouthed I’m sorry, my faced turned rosy red and my eyes filled with tears. From that moment on my life was never the same. It was a dark cloudy day and I was going to see my dad. We were playing the game Sorry and he was winning. I was the yellow player and he was the green player, he was laughing and smiling the whole time. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my Friday afternoon any other way. When the game was over he asked me to clean up the game while he went out to smoke a cig. When he entered the room and the game wasn’t picked up, he went crazy. His eyes seemed to turn a dark almost black color. It was like he was a completely different person when he came back