What is a childhood? I find this almost impossible to define the variation of childhoods is so wide, there are a number of factors that go
My background; I was born into what was called a working class family,despite of what I would think of my dad now,back then he could leave one job on a Friday and start another job on the Monday at a different plant at British steel as it was then .So yes he was a hard working father.
I am sure there must be other good things about him, but I can not think of any which on reflection is very bad.
I was the oldest out of five children so the big brother tag applied very much.
My dad was certainly an alcoholic and a gambler, my mam was a fiery lady who loved and wanted a stable life for her children, a very volatile mix of characters.
With my dads drinking and gambling becoming increasingly worse our life or any quality of life we had spiraled out of control, towards the deepest depths of darkness. It got to a stage where most nights my dad did not come home from work until the pubs closing times which back then was 10.30pm.
Night after night I would sit on the top of the stairs and listen to the violence between my dad and my mam who gave as much back as she took.
I tried to keep my sisters and bothers in the relative safety of their bedrooms, trying to stop them crying and reassuring them that i would protect them, after all big brother was about ten years old now. I was no longer a child because I had to grow up to keep the family together. I had a job delivering a free weekly paper and always gave my wages to my mam so at least we could be fed.
I remember one night as clear as it was yesterday. I was 12 and again my dad came in drunk and started hitting my mam. I decided to step in and got a good hiding. It is fare to say my mam ended up stabbing him with a fork in his groin and those images will never leave me, fortunately I guess he was not seriously hurt.
My bruises covering my arms and body physically healed but never left my mind even to this day
I was often sent to school in clothes that did not fit me properly, so you can imagine the bullies at school where very vocal in their opinions of me, so no escape, at home violence and at school I was verbally bullied.
My mam and dad separated and he left and one Christmas day he came to visit us, drunk again and looking for a fight. Eventually smashing up our toys and the house, what a great Xmas day that was , never be forgotten but for all the wrong reasons .
So my childhood was far from happy but if I had a time machine and could go back and change it I would not because I am the person I am now through those times in my life that where not great but built my character.
This post is an anonymous guest post to raise awareness of domestic violence in the eyes of the man. If you can relate to this post and would like the chance to share your own experience then please contact me.