ME INC NOW Consulting
|Posted on January 6, 2023 at 1:15 PM|
Cycles of Life – Child Abuse
If you are a parent, then you will understand exactly what I am discussing in the next few sentences. Your day at work has been stressful and all you really want is a few seconds of down time before interacting with your child. Those precious seconds of downtime are not given to you, your anger builds, and …….. So of all the options available to you, you hit your child! Whether it was malicious or not, you still made physical contact.
The question is why did you choose to hit your child, is it because you do not have the capacity to communicate properly? Why did you choose to hit? I know when I was in this situation as a young parent the only answer I knew was to hit. It was what had been done to me, so I did the same to my child, there was no gray area. Attack, dominate, inflict pain and fear was my methodology. Why did I opt for this type of discipline? Simply because it was the only thing I knew how to do.
My answer? It’s my story. I was reared by an abusive stepfather, beaten at the age of three for peeing on him by accident. I was removed from this home and temporarily placed in the foster care system. My step father spent time in jail, rehabbed, and I was subsequently placed back into this home. Nothing changed, the abuse continued. Sometimes I would be hit for just looking at my stepfather in the wrong way, even crying when I was hurt was enough to trigger a reaction.
I ran away at the age of sixteen and again ended up in the foster system. I grew up in this system and became a father at a very young age. My life took a turn for the worse. I became a monster at times, in one instance I lost control and threw my stepdaughter across the room into the wall. What???? Really???, this could not be me. I decided to seek treatment. I wanted and needed this monster to go away.
It did not take my doctor very long to make a diagnosis, I was a child abuser. My stepfather had influenced my personal traits as a human being. This diagnosis was incredibly painful to hear but necessary. Flashbacks continue to haunt me, a constant reminder to keep control of my emotions.
Do you see the cycle? Have you ever gone past that line? The line where discipline becomes abuse. The good news for me and for you is that through professional intervention we can change. I changed, and so can you, let’s stop this cycle. Here’s how: www.Me.Inc.Now.
|Posted on January 6, 2023 at 1:15 PM|
Cycles of Life
This is the first in a series of blogs that will highlight cycles of life. Topics include generational cycles of child abuse, dysfunctionality, drugs, alcohol, illiteracy, and abandonment.
It does not matter who you are, we all live through cycles, cycles of life. Some of those cycles are positive and some of those cycles are negative. Based off of my biography (www.me.inc.now.(home)) you will develop an understanding of where I have come from, how the generation before me has led to my development as an adult and how the negative influence of these cycles continue unless broken. Simply put, I believe that a “positive foundation” develops into other “positive foundations”, how, you may ask. Let me explain, you are more likely to attend college if your parent has attended college, you are less likely to spend time in jail if your parents have not been jailed, in short, positive behaviors influence positive behaviors. My life was not the case, it was negative behaviors of dysfunctional childhood that, through me, continued to lead to dysfunctional behaviors as I matured.
My biological father did not appear in my life until the age of seven and briefly at that. At the age of seventeen my father came back into my life, this time to become more involved as I matured into adulthood. Even though my life was changing for the better, I still reverted to juvenile behaviors. I was a father at the age of seventeen not prepared for the responsibility of raising a child. The easiest solution was to walk away, pretend it never did happen, ignore the responsibility to my own child. And so….. I was gone, out of my child’s life until I had brief contact when my daughter was seven years old. I re-entered back into my daughters’ life when she was maturing as an adult at the age of nineteen. Do you see a cycle here? ……. we will discuss child abuse in the next blog release. here.
|Posted on January 6, 2023 at 1:10 PM|
Trauma and Pain (PTSD)
Author: Chuck Prinzen Jr.
I have been asked numerous times how do I know that I have PTSD. I have not been in a war, I have not been a medical responder, nor was I in law enforcement? Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.
Age, it seems, allows you to develop a much better understanding of the past and the future. The nightmares that I have endured for the past sixty years are similar to a scar that will never heal, no matter what you do. The scars of childhood trauma manifested into PTSD for me as a teenager and young adult. My coping mechanism for these nightmares is rather awkward, but it works for me. I think of my dreams as a television with unlimited channels. Sometimes the channel changes fast, sometimes slow, the variability here is the level of violence found on that channel. Unfortunately to change channels I always have to go through a specific memory, a terrible past situation that this television set always reverts to. This is channel 3 and here is the story …
… at the age of three I was living with my mother and stepfather in a two story home built in the 1950’s. We occupied the lower level and my grandmother had the upper level. I could not tell you today which family side grandma (one of three) belonged to but none the less that is the way it was. When things would go bad, (the beatings) I was passed onto one of my three grandmas’. Depending on which one was available. One particular evening my stepfather Cal was completing a diaper change on me, he asked if I had to go potty, I said “no”. We’ll, bad things happened, I accidently peed on him and his anger trigger button was pushed.
Unfortunately Cal and I were home alone while my mother was at work. I cannot recall what “object” was used to inflict the pain, I have had them all. In a frantic mode I remember yelling “no, no, no,” I just knew what was about to happen. Cal was swearing viciously while grabbing whatever limb he could for control while inflicting pain on other parts of my body. My screams were loud enough that my grandmother heard them through the floorboards prompting a call to the police for help. When the police arrived they found me in my bed covered with blankets, this was my physiological way of building a shield around me so I could hide. One of the policeman removed the blankets to find a severely beaten and damaged child, I can only imagine him crying at what he saw.
Cal was led away in handcuffs as my mother hurried home from work just to be interviewed by child protective services. A short time later I was taken away to a safe place while my mother yelled and cried as she was deemed unfit to parent me ….
This is my channel 3. I do not have to remain on this channel for a very long period of time but I will always know that it is there. Find your own way to avoid these channels of abuse, find the channel that can help you recover. By simply changing that channel …. all you have to do is to wake up from the nightmare.
|Posted on January 6, 2023 at 1:10 PM|
Where’s My Daddy
I’m writing this blog in hope of touching anyone that has ever asked themselves, “Where is my Daddy or Mommy?”. In past blogs, I’ve focused on helping you to understand that Negative Cycles are real. I’m reaching out to Anyone that will listen, not for knowledge, gossip, or even negativity. I want to touch Those that are in need of breaking cycles, “traits”, passed on from generations before them. My blogs are written - not from books, college degrees or even social media influence - but from my purpose. It’s my purpose, passion and a promise that I prayed for at the age of three. “Please Lord, let me get old, and I promise I will make it right”. Every word written is totally from personal experience...
From my Life
Let me start two generations before me, then end two generations after me. My grandfather (paternal) welcomed a little boy into the world in October 1934. I don’t know the entirety of the story, only bits and pieces of the hurt my father endured. Even now at 86, I can see that little boy in him, asking who and where is his daddy. Yes, he had seven step fathers; he also had broken memories that to this day touch the depths of his soul. Questions like “Why?”, “Where are you?”, and- perhaps most hurtful of all - “What did I do to you?” My father was told there were two possibilities, but “They” were just not sure which one might be his biological father. For years growing up, that question kept him guessing, hanging on, while waiting for an answer.
One day he decided to choose one, bringing closure to the agonizing thought, “ Will my real father please claim me?”. Even though neither man was in his life, this brought peace to a young teenager who desperately needed a Daddy. When my dad turned 84 he asked me to get him one of those DNA testing kits and run a test on him. For weeks he would call and ask if the results had come in yet. When the results finally came back, I went to visit my father. Dad was excited; he looked like a little boy, with a face that said, “Tell me! Tell me! I have waited way too long!”.
All the years that had gone by with him KNOWING he made the right choice about who his father was...
Dad and I were in a high school library when I gave him the results - they were not what he had wanted. When he heard me announce, “Your dad is not who you thought it was”, Dad collapsed. I felt his pain, sobbing with him, not for his journey, but for mine. You see, my father and I were separated when he and my mother divorced. I was two. For years I endured story after story of my father, sometimes only bits and pieces, Always wondering “Where’s my Daddy?”
My father had seven step-dads, I only had one. At the age of nine, my father came to visit me. “Hey! That’s my father!”. He was tall, muscular, and I was told he was very good at martial arts. “Wow!” were the thoughts speeding through my brain. I was happy, excited, “This is really him!”
I spent the whole day with him, grinning the entire day. When it was time for him to leave, he walked me to my front porch, gave me a hug and told me he loved me. That was the last time I saw him. Gone, heck he didn't even tell me he was leaving. When I realized he had left me again, I was back to “Why, where is he, and what did I do wrong?”.
It was 10 years after that day that my father came back into my life, this time for good. However the anger and pain I had to endure while he was away was excruciating. My stepfather was a very abusive man. Many times while beatings occurred, I thought “Where's my daddy? He knows martial arts and he will save me.” He never rescued me. Hey, he told me he loved me, right? Those same cycles my father went through, I now experience. Do you see a cycle? Well it didn't stop with me.
At the young age of 17 I became a father. I welcomed a beautiful little girl into this life. Not long after she was born, this damaged little boy (on the inside) could not be a father, and I left. Just as my father, and his father, and maybe even my great- grandfather. This cycle started somewhere...
June 3rd 1980, my daughter had turned seven. I called her to say happy birthday. When I asked her if she knew who she was talking to she answered “My daddy.” As we were ending our call, I told her I loved her and that I would visit her. After that phone conversation, we had no other contact until she was 19.
Are you noticing a cycle?
My daughter is now 47 and we have a great relationship even though there are gaps, years of her wondering “Where's my daddy? He told me he loved me, and he would come see me.” She’s been living with this pain for years. We don't get those years back, this I know... How do I know? Because it happened to me.
Finally, my number two granddaughter was separated from not just her mother, but her father as well. She was in the 2nd grade., and was taken to a place for an opportunity to follow her dreams. Flown from Hawaii to the mainland and raised by her grandparents. Once again, someone of my bloodline was raised without her parents, as three generations before her have endured.
Make no mistake, cycles or “traits” are real. The great news is those cycles can be broken. I can honestly say scars in your heart can heal, however, they never go away. After many years and a lot of hard work, our bloodline of five generations has broken that cycle. My father now enjoys time with his great great grandchildren. No more “Where's my daddy?” or “My mommy loves me but she’s not here.”
Have you ever looked at your family? More so your parents, and seen the cycles that have been passed through them? I pray this blog has opened your eyes and created some awareness within your heart, so you can now see that change is possible. Answers for those that say “I do not want to be like my parents.”
Remember you never asked for pain; all you ever wanted was to be loved. You have a choice, not for you, but for your kids, and their kids for generations to follow!