Wow. I just watched this, and I am . . . . . well, traumatized.
I actually had a memory that surprised me, one I hadn't thought about in years. It didn't seem like it fit, but, I guess "it starts with 15 volts". I was talking with a lovely momma, who I knew to be gentle and sweet and nice. She had, some weeks ago, given birth to twin boys. One of them was just out of the ICU and at home, for about 4 weeks. She started talking about the differences in them. She said that one child was so sweet and wonderful, and just cooed and smiled when she changed his diaper. She said that the other twin once "gave a scream that was obviously temper, and I swatted him on his naked bottom right quick! I wasn't having *any* of that in my house! I didn't hurt him, I just got his attention. He didn't do it again!" Now, I was still in the throes of Gothard-ism and reading the Pearl materials (I do not think this momma did that, but was definitely a hardcore conservative fundie -- like me
), and I thought I would throw up. This baby twin boy. . . . .four weeks out of the ICU, just born. . . . .
And, I also remembered that, like me, she had an almost grown son, who had, after he was old enough for the courts to listen to him, left to live with his dad. I remembered her once saying (just matter--of--fact) that his dad didn't have a lot of rules, which was most likely why he wanted to live with him. I also remember having had that son in AWANA, and I remembered thinking that he had a few "issues", and acted scarily like my own son (who, if I had to self-dx now, after years of study and experience under my belt, had at least a mild form of Asperberger's). I had a soft spot for him, since, like our whole church, spanking was *THE* form of discipline, and "mental" issues did not exist, they were just "sin" problems, that spanking "fixed".
This all came flooding back to me like vomit when he said, "It starts with 15 volts", and I started to think about how children are taught to obey authority (men in white coats, men in police uniforms, teachers, etc., etc.) blindly, and I thought of Alice Miller's book "For Your Own Good." And I just sit here and
I also remembered just when and how *I* crossed that line.
: bheart
Never mind my own son not recovering from what I did, but I will never recover, either.