Akting Out

I need to preface this by saying that I am at peace with my parents; since I grew up they have helped me out in some dire situations, even though they don’t agree with how I live my life. If you choose to proceed, you’re going to read some things you won’t like.

I believe my father is a good man who did the best he could with what he had to work with, and in parenthood not every decision is the right one. Having been a parent myself, I realize that you make it up as you go along…and I’ve forgiven him for the bad decisions.

I grew up in a physically and mentally abusive household. What made my situation unique was that outside of the house, you never would’ve known anything was wrong. I grew up middle class, my father had a prominent career, both of my parents are college-educated, no one could figure out what was wrong with me, or why I acted out.

My first memory of my father is of him hitting me when I was in preschool because I couldn’t get the color of a toy right. It was all downhill from there.

Over the years, I was called every name under the sun, chased around the house with belts and anything else he could get his hands on, and nearly rendered unconscious on a couple of occasions. In return, I got kicked out of almost every school I attended. My grades were so bad that they actually invented the letter ‘G’ just so they could have something below F. I got arrested numerously, spent a number of nights in juvenile hall and cost my parents a lot of money. I also ripped off my mother of well past a grand and subjected my sister to the same things my father subjected me too.

I left home for good at nineteen, shortly after the birth of my first son, after a showdown between my father, mother, sister, and myself. I never went back there to live.

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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