When does the line cross from discipline to cruel punishment? I know; I’ve lived through it. The abuse started with all of us. Every day when father was gone mother would scream at us while we searched all day around the house for something she “lost” and if we didn’t find it there’d be hell to pay. Soon enough it just became a battle between my mother and me, I was the “bad boy.” When father was home things were somehow different. It was all I could hope for to stick by his side like a little puppy dog. There I was “safe” and she couldn’t get to me.
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