Men Don't Tell
http://www.abs-comptech.com/~aewhale/men_dont.html
But Annette,
the Daughter of an Abused Father, Tells all.
Annette tells WHY she's talking about it.
Several months ago, CBS presented the movie " Men Don't Tell " . It portrayed the story of a man who was battered and abused by his wife. He and his young daughter chose to remain silent through the years of abuse due to the humiliation and shame they felt.. I know that humiliation, I witnessed the verbal and physical abuse of my father by my mother. But, in my mothers eyes she was the one being abused. In October 1990, my mother had my father arrested for domestic violence. It was then I stood up and said " NO More " and testified against her in court.
For 20 years I listened to my mother tell my father that he was " no good" , "ugly" , " a wimp " , " no other woman would want him", '" he was nothing" , and that " no one liked him. In those 20 years I tended his wounds, mended his torn shirts and told him that I loved him.
As the title of the movie states " Men Don' t Tell" , well neither did he. He was ashamed, degraded and hurt, he honestly believed the things she told him. My mother isolated my father from his family, but not the world. You see my father was a police officer. In those 35 years he handled many domestic violence calls. He was open minded enough to listen to the man as well as the woman because of what he went through in his own home.
Growing up watching this abuse affected me, it hurt me to hear my father being told that he was " ugly " or " nothing" . It more then hurt me to see the despair in his eyes and the shame on his face. Imagine an 11 year old pulling her mother off of her father or calling the sheriff to come and get her mother so I could finally go to sleep that night. This is what my childhood was like. Granted we did have some good times, but it's the bad ones that affect you.
I remember the terror I felt when my dad would say " I can't take it anymore", pick up his service revolver and lock the bedroom door. I remember banging on the door with my sister screaming " NO DADDY NO ", and wondering if I'd ever see him again. I remember the relief when he would open the door and hold my sister and I in his arms and say " Oh my poor babies, I'm so sorry".
Regardless of these horrible fights, I still didn't want my parents divorced, I simply wanted my mother to stop hurting my father. As I grew older, my outlook changed. I use to lay in bed at night listening to them argue and her scream and wishing they would divorce.
When I got married and moved away, I worried that my father would now be alone with her, with no one to protect him. What if he finally had enough!!!! Or if he finally struck back hurting her ? I knew that everyone was more apt to believe that she was a battered woman, society taught me that.
Finally after 22 years of being beaten up and beaten down, my father broke down and cried. My husband sister and I convinced him to leave, ending his two decades of silence. Through the divorce proceedings my mother had her attorney request a reconciliation. I was so relieved and yes "proud" when my father said " NO". Everyone noticed how much happier my father became, even my father . He said " I'll take being alone any day over being abused".
He'd met a woman who built up his self esteem who he fell in love with, who he was planning to marry. Tragically his happiness wasn't long lasting. On August 20, 1992 he had a massive heart attack that ended his life.
Setting at his funeral looking around at the 400 people gathered to pay their respects my mind flashed back to my mother telling him, " you don't have any friends , no one likes you", and I couldn't help but wonder if she, who was one of the 400 people there remembered also.
The day after my father died, the courthouse where he worked flew the flags at half staff, his co-workers wore black bands over there badges. All this for a man who for 22 years was told and believed that no one liked him.
It still hurts me to remember how he was treated. Growing up this way affected me. At 14 I tried to escape taking a large overdose of pills, nearly succeeding. I ended up in a psychiatric hospital and was made a ward of the court due to my parents problems. To be honest I felt safe in that hospital. In there I didn't have to deal with their problems, or rather my mothers.
I never told anyone what went on in my home, even in the hospital. I was too ashamed when actually I had nothing to be ashamed of. I know that now that I have chosen to come forward and speak out. I always told my dad that someday I would, only I thought he'd be here to see it.
Woman can and do batter men. It happened in my house and it happened to my dad. It not only hurts the one being abused, but the children who also live it. The affects last a lifetime. My fathers physical wounds healed, but the emotional scars he carried with him until his death. Just as I will carry it forever in me.....