A Dad First

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The Day I Left Home…

The day most leave home is typically reserved for things like leaving for college, finally getting your own place, things like that. For me, I was 13.

A little background first: was born in CT; parents divorced when I was 2; mother moved me sister and me to MT; remarried when I was 5. And that’s when it all changed.

At first it was neat having a father figure, since I didn’t really know or remember my dad at that point. I didn’t even mind so much when he adopted us.

But he was an alcoholic, and not the happy kind. He was violent and mean.

So over the next seven years or so, that’s the environment I lived in.

Until one night. And of all the things, it wasn’t the hitting that did it. It wasn’t the yelling or name-calling. It was, after all that, that he spit on me. I snapped inside.

He and my mom left, and at that moment I knew only two choices: I was either going to leave and not come back, or I was going to kill him. I don’t say that lightly. I had to stop it. And that was a very real option. (Back then, there weren’t the domestic assault laws that there are now, or this would have been taken care of many instances prior…)

Here are the issues, though: I was only 13, we lived out in the country in MT, and it was fall.

I ended up not taking anything except my favorite blanket, which was way too thin. I walked for miles trying to figure out what to do and where to go, when I finally decided to (try to) sleep in a culvert under the highway, wait until morning, and catch the schoolbus to school. It was a cold, terrifying night.

Once they got back home and discovered I was gone, they were driving all over, yelling, cussing, looking for me. I was near a small development of houses, and they’d stopped there to ask one of the neighbors if I was there or if they’d seen me, and I could tell at that point if they’d found me, he would have probably severely beaten me, if not killed me. Eventually, after a long time, that finally stopped, and I curled up in my blanket and even slept some. Caught the bus in the morning and headed to school.

Sitting in one of the first classes and there was a call from the office to check if I was there. My heart sank.

I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t. So I eventually worked up the courage to go to the teacher and ask to go see the school counselor, where I laid the situation out. And the call was made to CPS.

I would not be going back there…

The day most leave home is typically reserved for things like leaving for college, finally getting your own place, things like that. For me, I was 13. A little background first: was born in CT; parents divorced when I was 2; mother moved me sister and me to MT; remarried when I was 5. And…

14 Comments

  3. Wow. The more people i meet, the more I realize that coming from a normal home is not the norm. I grew up with an alcoholic dad too but he never beat me. He just wasn't there for me. He was always gone and would come home drunk and say stupid crap about my mom. I was bitter at him for a long time but in a weird way loved him very much too. He died when I was 11. Kind of hard to process all that as a kid though and even harder to sort it out as an adult.

    I would love to hear the rest of this story. So glad God brought you through it. Be blessed and thanks for sharing your heart.

  4. I understand the abuse. I'm glad you're telling your story and as I've said, you've prompted me to tell mine.

    My husband also left home at an early age. His dad died when he was just a year old. He step-dad abused him. And now? He's the best dad ever. I bet that's true of you, too.

  5. Wow–I can relate in so many ways..it's amazing how so many parents can't or won't see what they are doing and how it robs of our innocence, our childhood and our dreams. Thankfully God promises to restore all that the enemy has stolen.

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  8. A courageous decision. Thank goodness the system didn't let you down or betray you by returning you to the home. I'm guessing there's more to the story and that there were probably more challenges waiting for you, but this was a start.

    Thank you for sharing your story. I think your openness can empower others.

  9. Scott, that's awful. I'm so sorry your family failed you. I can relate to so much of what you've said. I will keep you in my prayers. i know how hard it is to overcome family stuff. ((hugs))

    Rebecca

  10. You really set the "personal post" bar pretty high right out of the gate!

    My heart goes out to that boy. You were very brave. And I agree with the comment above, that you are a rockin' dad, shattering the cycle of violence into a million pieces.

  11. Even though my experience wasn't the same as yours, it was painful in its own way and somewhat explains why we found each other when we did.It has taken me a lot longer to realize things were not all bad and that everything happens for a reason. (And just when I was figuring it out my life got turned upside down again.) I hope that I was as supportive to you as you were to me. We have certainly ended up in different places in our lives but it was great to have you with me on my path for a while. I love that you are sharing this. I have discovered great relief in sharing my pain, even if no one reads it.

  12. I grew up in the same type of environment. I wanted to leave, but I didn't want to leave my sister or mother behind to suffer by themselves. I can also relate to having the desire to kill the person who caused you so much pain. As soon as I graduated from high school, I moved away to a college far away.