06:08
Faizan
In 2012, I started to read books on child abuse, and the only time that I had read anything like this before was in 2009, when I read the book 'Toxic Parents' by Susan Forward. So, up until this point, I had primarily been reading books on self-development.
As far as I knew, I just lacked confidence, my emotions were often out of control, and didn't really know what was going on with my life. It then seemed as though I just happened to be this way and that I simply needed to increase my confidence.
Reaching Out
However, I was always questioning things and open to new information, so it was inevitable that I would gradually get to this point. Perhaps I needed to lay down a few foundations before I was ready to face up to what really happened.
At the same time, I could see that my family wasn't healthy and that I hadn't always been treated with respect and as though I had value. But while I was aware of this, it wasn't until I started to read books on child abuse that it all fell into place.
A Brick Wall
Before I started to read these books, I would often speak to my mother about what her childhood was like. This was generally a waste of time, though, as I would rarely get very far.
At times, she would talk about different experiences that proved that her early years were not very functional and, at others, she would say that her childhood was fine. Also, her father (my grandfather) would often talk about how his father called him "a good-for, a good-for-nothing", and he would also say how great he was.
As far as I knew, I just lacked confidence, my emotions were often out of control, and didn't really know what was going on with my life. It then seemed as though I just happened to be this way and that I simply needed to increase my confidence.
Reaching Out
However, I was always questioning things and open to new information, so it was inevitable that I would gradually get to this point. Perhaps I needed to lay down a few foundations before I was ready to face up to what really happened.
At the same time, I could see that my family wasn't healthy and that I hadn't always been treated with respect and as though I had value. But while I was aware of this, it wasn't until I started to read books on child abuse that it all fell into place.
A Brick Wall
Before I started to read these books, I would often speak to my mother about what her childhood was like. This was generally a waste of time, though, as I would rarely get very far.
At times, she would talk about different experiences that proved that her early years were not very functional and, at others, she would say that her childhood was fine. Also, her father (my grandfather) would often talk about how his father called him "a good-for, a good-for-nothing", and he would also say how great he was.
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