Overcoming a Legacy of Domestic Violence
and Drug Abuse
Charlotte Madlock
It's very hard to remember a time in my life when there was no violence.
I guess if I close my eyes I can go back to a time when my dad traveled
and was home very little, it was just my mom and the four kids. But by
the time I was seven we moved to California because my dad found a job
where he could be home all the time and the terror began that would almost
destroy my life. I've learned through stories that actually the violence
in my home started way before then, when my brother was just four years
old and I was two my dad picked him up and threw him against a wall for
tearing a dust cover on a book. But when we moved to California I became
my dad's favorite target and scapegoat and a life of hell began which
caused me to try my first suicide attempt at the tender age of 10.
The thing about family violence is that it's a pervasive, constant type
of terror from which the family members find it very difficult to escape.
It becomes a way of life and the dynamics are such that the victims of
the violence actually are blamed for forcing the perpetrator into violent
acts. Since so often the victims are children and the perpetrators are
adults, it becomes a deep part of the child's psyche to believe that they
are at fault in any violent situation that reigns terror upon them, and
that there is no escape. It was the feeling of being unable to escape
which caused me to attempt suicide time and again as a child and teen,
and it was the desire to escape that made drugs and alcohol so meaningful
in my life as a teenager.
The violence that I experienced in my family wasn't always physical,
although there were plenty of times I was beaten to the point of having
evidence of the beatings on my body. Some of the violence was of a psychological
nature, a deep nastiness of spirit that tore at my self-esteem and convinced
me that I was less valuable than a piece of dirt, and that no one would
ever consider my life worthwhile. One of the most painful experiences
was to be treated as if I didn't exist at all: if my father became angry
with me he would just ignore my presence for weeks on end. Being treated
as a non-entity was perhaps the deepest act of anger against my soul,
one that still cuts me to the bone today. I am known as a great talker
and I'll never forget one time a friend looked at me and asked "Why are
you so uncomfortable with silence?" I cried and cried, hurt at what he
said. But upon reflection I came to see that in mind my silence meant
anger and I would avoid silence at all costs.
Our children today have so much fortune that the Child Protective Services
take violence against children seriously. When I was growing up in the
60's and 70's I would go to school with bruises and not a teacher, principal
or aide would ask if I were okay or what had happened. I was totally alone,
isolated and even the teachers would treat me as a freak since I was so
miserable and depressed. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of my
problem, they too treated me as if I was the problem. This only reinforced
what I was learning at home and convinced me further of my lack of value
as a person.
By the time I was 18 I ran away from home and went to live on the streets,
I had no regard for my life, so life on the streets wasn't frightening
for me. Even though I was an intelligent, talented young woman, I cared
little for my life and only searched for a high and an escape from my
reality. When I began to encounter violence on the street I wasn't surprised,
it was just a way of life that made sense. One thing had happened though,
I started fighting back. I became an equally violent person and actually
began to feel an outlet for the tremendous anger I harbored. I was also
tremendously depressed. I now realize that depression is a manifestation
of anger turned inward, and after years and years of abuse I was a really
angry person.
Somehow after a summer on the streets I managed to find my way back
home and started attending college. It was in the arena of college life
that I began to see some of my value, although it was a castle built on
sand, and I received recognition for my acting talents. Still tremendously
insecure, I became arrogant and haughty, attempting to hide from others
the huge lack of self worth I still felt. People began to label me as
a "bitch" because they respected my talent but couldn't stand the way
I behaved. This label reinforced what I already had grown to believe about
myself, that no one would ever care about me, so I took the stance of
"Screw them.... I Don't Care Anywise" (sour grapes I think it's called)
and became even nastier than ever.
It was a this time that I discovered Buddhist practice, an anchor in
the storm of my life that would eventually put me on a path to break the
legacy of violence that I had experienced throughout my life. It wasn't
an easy road to follow, changing oneself from within never is. But I can
say with great confidence that by adhering to a healthy life philosophy
for the past 23 years, I have been able to overcome things many people
never even are able to chip away at in their lives.
However, a lifetime legacy of violence is not an easy thing to overcome
and it takes serious consistent effort and the ability to recognize the
source of your agony to be able to even begin attacking the problem head
on. For me, it took 15 years of struggle to overcome a drug addiction.
I found myself in violent relationship after violent relationship, the
kind of love life where I wasn't satisfied that I was truly loved unless
I was being beaten. When I managed to get into a relationship with someone
who wasn't violent, I would commit acts of violence against them, taunting
them into fighting with me physically, verbally and emotionally until
I felt the level of hatred was high enough to know that I was loved. But
mainly I was attracted to the dangerous kind of person who enjoyed belittling
me, who liked to come out swinging in a fight, who always made sure there
was a certain level of drama and agony maintained to make me feel "normal."
It wasn't until I had children that I finally realized how much I needed
to be the one to break the chain of violent, dramatic behavior, that it
was my responsibility to not accept meanness and angry behavior as a "normal"
way of life. I stayed in my marriage, which as all my relationships was
abusive and destructive, way too long. When my five year old daughter
started showing signs of extreme anxiety after witnessing violent act
upon violent act, I finally woke up and said "enough" and put an end to
my marriage; but not before I had allowed him to beat me into a miscarriage,
not before I had allowed him to rip the phone out of the wall when I called
911 and had the SWAT team surround my home. It took that much drama and
pain for me to finally put an end to it all.
The depth of prayer required to change myself from within, to say I
will not allow this to happen any longer almost ripped my heart in two.
Yet in the end, it was deep prayer that healed me, removed the drama from
my life and gave me the opportunity to set the path for a peaceful life
for my children and myself. I now can say with great joy that I am a valuable,
talented person who has much to offer this world. I am finding ways to
not repeat the nasty behavior and mean talk I grew up with. I am finding
ways to not repeat the pattern of violence that I grew up thinking was
normal. But I have to be vigilant in my efforts, because it is an easy
pattern to fall back into. It takes daily prayer to not behave as I was
treated, to constantly remind myself that life doesn't have to be that
way in order to do battle with this legacy of violence I grew to accept
as "real life." I think this is probably the most devastating effect of
growing up in a life filled with violent behavior. You can never ever
escape the fact that without a motivated determination you are just a
heartbeat away from promoting the same behavior that terrorized you as
a child. I am so happy that I've had the chance to catch myself and change
this legacy for my two small children before it is too late.
DOJ National Domestic Violence Hotline - 1.800.799.SAFE (7233) or 1.800.787.3224
(TDD)
Family Violence Prevention Fund/Health Resource Center - 1.800.313.1310
National Resource Center on Domestic Violence - 1.800.537.2238
Resouce Center on Domestic Violence, Child Protection and Custody - 1.800.527.3223
|
