There’s Never a Reason to Abuse a Child
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Adrian Peterson is, apparently, a famous footballer in America. I presume that’s American Football rather than soccer. I could have read the article well enough to know but, frankly, I don’t need to know any more about this creature than he has abused his children.
A recent article on MMA addressed the fact that he had beaten his children and, according to him, he had done so because he was beaten as a child.
Oh BOO HOO HOO Adrian you complete and utter piece of human excretia. I don’t care that you were an abused child. I couldn’t care less. I hope you are haunted for the rest of your life by the abuse inflicted on you. I hope that your children grow up, beat the crap out of you, leave you in a wheel chair having your bottom wiped by a nurse. I hope they get away with doing exactly that and you rot away bed ridden with a life of misery for many years.
I’m a bit ‘tetchy’ on this aren’t I?
Yes. I have zero sympathy for anyone who has been abused as a child whether physically, mentally, sexually or two or all three unless they ‘break the chain’. If they ‘break the chain’ then kudos to them and may they live a long, healthy and happy life and bring love and joy to their families and friends.
If they don’t ‘break the chain’ then I wish the worst possible existence it is feasible to have on this Earth. Preferably an existence that makes the bowels of Hell seem like a few weeks holiday on the beaches of Florida or Spain or somewhere.
I neither know nor want to know the details of Adrian Peterson’s abuse, mainly because I couldn’t care less. I don’t care if he suffered beatings alone or whether there was any other forms of abuse he suffered as a child. I really couldn’t care less. I hope he suffers nightmares about it as long as he lives.
He knows what it’s like. He knows what it’s like and he does the same to his kids.
“Oh woe is me! You can’t blame me because it happened to me!”
Bollocks Adrian. I don’t just blame you I hope you accidentally get your nuts caught in a coffee grinder. Your suffering as a child is nothing to what I would like to hear you suffer now.
I know someone personally who was beaten as a child. Not only beaten but thrown down the stairs as a toddler. He usually landed on his head which, in his opinion, was something of a plus as, to this day, he feels that is probably the safest bit he has to land on – no sense no feeling 😉
He had so many broken bones – which wasn’t too bad in a way as bones heal quite quickly when you are so young – that he probably kept the company making bandages and plaster in business for several years. He once got his plastered broken arm wet in the bath and his mother, after several attempts at drying the plaster with Swan Vesta matches and, not entirely surprisingly, failing, stuck a Swan Vesta match down the end of his dick and lit it.
He tells me that it wasn’t the best sensation he’s ever had.
Apparently this abuse continued until he was about 13 years of age. He was quite slightly built whilst his mother was quite a powerfully built creature. At 13 she ‘came at him’ for inadvertently flicking a ‘Subbuteo Table Football’ player a wee bit too hard and it landed, after performing a perfect parabola, in the apple pie she was making at the time. It might have been strawberry jam or even beef stew and dumplings. He can’t really remember what the recipe was.
He took a step back to avoid the impending blow, over balanced and his foot shot upwards as he attempted to regain his balance. Completely by chance his foot made contact with his mothers shin and she stopped dead. He looked at her and saw fear in her eyes. She thought he had kicked her intentionally. She had no idea that he was so terrified of her that all he had really wanted to do was find somewhere to die so he could have peace but he was too afraid of dying to actually make it happen.
He saw the terror in her eyes. She thought ‘the worm had turned’. At that point ‘the worm’ thought he might as well then.
“You ever touch me again you bitch and I’ll fucking kill you!” – I know it’s quite unusual to remember anything you said 44 years ago with any degree of accuracy but I guess he’s got reason to remember that line.
When he grew up he married and was loved in a way he couldn’t believe possible.
Then he had a daughter and he was jealous of the new baby. She took the attentions of his wife away from him. He had to now share her love and he didn’t like it one little bit. He looked at his daughter and thought ‘if you weren’t here she would still be all mine. All her love would still be mine!’
He then did something that, he tells me, to this day, he doesn’t quite understand.
He didn’t pray or ask God – why ask a God he didn’t believe in? The God that had let him suffer as he had?
He tells me he looked up at the ceiling – although he wasn’t looking up at the ceiling he was just looking, well, sort of, ‘up’?
He said out loud but quietly “Help me Gran”
His Grandmother had done her best to protect him when he was a kid. She knew some of it. Not all, but she knew. Back then it was hard to know what to do really so she did what she could. She hugged him and cuddled him and he loved her more than life itself.
At his Grandmother’s funeral, accompanied by his wife, the assembled mourners had sobbed but he had sat in complete silence. ‘Emotionless’ his wife had told him. Throughout the funeral service he just sat there seemingly oblivious and uncaring. He says he had no idea how to express his emotions.
At the end of the service his Grandmother in her coffin went through the curtains to be cremated. By this time the assembled mourners had ‘sobbed out’ and all was silent except for a quiet hymn that had been his Grandmothers favourite.
He tells me he can recall very little of what followed but was told this by his wife.
As the coffin went behind the curtains and with virtual silence in the crematorium an extraordinarily loud animal ‘howl’ shattered the silence. He tells me he sort of remembers something about hearing a howl. He says it reminded him of watching a werewolf movie. It wasn’t quite human but it was almost ridiculously loud. He remembers some of the other mourners looking at him with faces shocked, bewildered and almost horrified.
He asked his wife shortly afterwards what that loud howling was and where did it come from.
“You love. It was you” is all she said.
He asked his late Grandmother for help. He has no idea why but immediately after he had asked, he tells me, he picked up his baby daughter, felt the ridiculous feelings of jealousy melt away, looked her in the eyes and said –
“No matter what happens. No matter whether it is good or bad. I promise that I will always love you and be here for you from now until the day I die. I will never let you down and I will always protect you”
And you know what? He has done exactly that. He broke the cycle. He thinks he had a bit of help ‘from beyond’ but who knows eh?
His daughter grew to be a beautiful young lady. Intelligent, witty, caring and as gorgeous on the inside as she is on the outside. She is now in a ‘serious relationship’ with a chap her daddy loves dearly. Her partner asked her shortly after he had met her daddy “Does your dad like me?”
“I know he does” answered the daughter.
“How do you know?” asked her partner.
“You are the first boyfriend I’ve ever had that he hasn’t growled at” she replied
Well, at least he didn’t howl at them eh? 😉
So you see Adrian Peterson and others of your ilk? You have no excuse. There is no excuse. There never has been and never will be. You, Adrian Peterson, are simply a piece of human excretia as are those like you. You know what it felt like and you are revisiting it on your kids. I’m not saying my friend is perfect – he wouldn’t say he is that’s for sure – and, maybe he didn’t do it on his own. Maybe he had help from beyond or maybe his psyche just needed that ‘nudge’ that his Grandmothers memory gave it? I’ve no idea.
What I do know is that he broke the cycle and those who break the cycle rock.
ROCK ON!
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Question, now that it is out in the open, can he change? It is a learned behavior, can it be unlearned?
I have to agree with the author: Adrian Peterson is a piece of shit. There. I said it better.
You did. Shorter word but better 😉
I agree this is an excellent article and I agree with Norman. I don’t care anything about patterns, or cultures, even though theoretically it is sound. In practice, however, beating your children is wrong, and criminal. This guy should be in jail not in a football uniform.
Very good article indeed.
Kudos for breaking the cycle.
Shame and totally inconceivable for allowing it to continue – and for personally continuing it!
“Shame”: what an interesting word? How do we include all of the factors involved in the situation? If it didn’t impact another person, then I wouldn’t have the same opinions and concerns. Yes, I know that previous physical harm to an individual can have great effects on that individual’s brain and emotions; there may have been some hardwiring caused that it’s difficult to overcome. But it’s NEVER appropriate to abuse another person – or even another animal, but that’s a whole different story. So even if someone’s mind has become hardwired to abuse his or her child, it is incumbent upon said individual to avoid having kids! If you are unable to have children without abuse, don’t have children! If you are able to overcome the possibility of abuse, FABULOUS! But having been abused yourself is not an excuse for abusing!!