don't say anything !

obviously, for anyone who has followed along, have spoken about several examples of extreme child abuse visited upon myself and my siblings.
now, this far into the telling of those times, i must speak of the most profound moment of this life.

at age 7, was at home with sibs and father, mom was out working at a local diner, dinner cleanup had just finished and i was alone in the "parlour" of our old house drawing and coloring, while the others were together in the front room watching TV.
dinner had been reasonably calm, as dad wasn't in an obvious bad mood....YET !!!

suddenly, my father stormed into the room asking "did you take a cookie ?"
in my innocent 7 year old mind, i began to say "yes, i had one for supper !"
just as i had uttered "yes....", my father's hands were around my throat lifting me off the floor like a rag doll....and squeezing !
he was dead serious, worse, it seemed he was no longer the father i recognized.
i will never forget gazing into that face, that of a vicious animal with death in it's eyes.
i was being murdered, alone and helpless, his iron fists squeezing the consciousness out of me.
this was the end of life, no doubt.
just as visual focus was centering into a tiny white circle, i saw the eyes of this monster change, he seemed to come to, released his grip on my throat, and tossed me, again like that limp doll, onto the couch.
i lay there silent and motionless, not able to speak or move if i wanted to....stuck in the "freeze" defense position, just like a terrified rabbit.
consciousness was returning, my sensibilities were coming back, i saw my dad's silhouette standing in the doorway, he turned, seeing i had come to, and said...."DON'T SAY ANYTHING !!!"

not bloody likely would i ever say a thing, even at 7, that was a no-brainer.
there was no point of mentioning this to mom, being certain that if i did so, she would tell my father i had broken the silence, and he would finish me off.
another belief was, she was just another helpless victim like us, what could she do anyway?
i knew then absolutely, i was "S.O.L....and completely on my own".
nothing about my known world suggested there might be help for someone like me, (or us).
who was there to tell? who was there to care? there was no-one to tell !
the first time i ever spoke of this incident was at age 28, to a psychologist, finally realizing i could not go on without some sort of therapeutic help.

my mother went to her grave not ever knowing of this incident.

"DON'T SAY ANYTHING !!!"

quite a dramatic body memory....keep it inside....don't air dirty laundry in public....what happens behind closed doors stays there....OR ELSE !!!

still to this day, when triggered into panic, my throat muscles seize up and constrict, making it virtually impossible to speak and difficult to breathe.

i can still see that face, many times in horrifying nightmares, of that animal disguised as my dad strangling the life out of me.

get over it, will....put it behind you....let go and move on....what's the matter with you ?....suck it up, buttercup....everyone has suffered, you're not special, and on and on and on.
easier said than done....

these statements are but an innocent intimate gesture to anyone with ears to listen....
imagine that little 7 year old boy....wishing only to be heard, understood....and forgiven....for whatever it was about him that brought on such horrific punishment.

for the crime of taking a cookie....which, in that case, was not true !