Orphan Survival Stories Index |
ORPHANS AND MARRIAGE
As you may be able to tell from the stories you have read up to this point, any child who has been switched, beaten, hung, burned and basically treated like they were no more than an animal, would certainly shut down emotionally. Now it becomes impossible for the child to except any form of affection, love or attention whatsoever. The child is left, for the remainder of his life, totally distrusting everyone - especially grown-ups - who may try to get close to them physically or emotionally.
That should explain very well why I have been married six times. It is no wonder to me why a woman, one in her right mind, would want to stay married to a man who is unable to hug her or show her affection, not to mention provide love and understanding. I was always under the impression that all you had to do to be a good husband and father was to be good, kind, generous and hard working. I never drank, used drugs or abused my wives, but that did not appear to make any difference in the long run. All the nice homes, cars, trips, vacations, boats, motor homes and hard work were all for nothing and all just a waste of time and life.
Because I was raised in an orphanage, I was never subjected to a real family so I had no idea what a man's role was supposed to be as a father or a husband. The most logical thing to do was to copy what I saw other husbands and fathers doing with their wives, children and families, so I did exactly what I saw other fathers do and in most cases, I did it much better.
Everything appeared to work fine and everyone was happy as long as I was building, buying and creating a new and better lifestyle for my new family. But when all this was complete and the time had come to sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor, everything in the relationship once again started to fall apart.
After my fifth marriage ended, I fell into a five-year depression and the pain was so unbelievable I decided to take a good look at myself and sought out professional counseling. After about a year of dealing with some of the most ‘normal screwed up people’ that I have ever met in my life, I began to deal with all the horrors that happened to me as a child.
I had no idea that all the beatings and abuse I had suffered had made me into the adult person that I am today. I had never taken a look at these (child) issues, because they were in the past and now as a adult, I would just get on with my adult life along with adult issues. It was a very sad day for me to realize that I was incapable of loving another person on a personal level. I also realized why my master plan to copy what other fathers and husbands did could never work.
What I did not realize at the time is that there are these invisible things (feelings and emotions) going on inside the hearts and minds of these same people that I was trying to imitate. Things that I could not visually see, therefore I could not truly duplicate exactly what they were doing. This would explain why each and every relationship I ever had with a woman fell apart.
It is really too bad that these types of things happen to orphans or any other child for that matter. Not only are orphans destined to a lonely childhood, but they are also destined to a lonely adulthood as well. That is not to say that they will all be lonely, miserable individuals. I am only saying that they shall never live up to their full potential as a loving human being.
I am sure if a child was beaten every single day of their young life and then given a bowl of ice cream that they, after becoming an adult, might eat ice cream and enjoy it. But they will never enjoy it as much as the child who was hugged and loved every day and then given their bowl of ice cream. It is not all the years of beating and abuse that take its toll on the orphan/child. It is the feelings that the child is left with after the beatings and abuse are over that create the hardships and loneliness for that child as an adult.
As I said earlier in my introduction, those feelings are who I am today and they are whom I am when I wake up every morning of my life. I can no longer feel the beatings or that rope burning my little neck as I was being pulled up into that big oak tree, but what I can still feel is that I was no more than a little piece of shit being hung by my shitty little neck and that is something that pulling yourself up by the boot-straps can not make go away.