It was my turn to facilitate today. I looked forward to this day all week and found myself feeling anxious all day. When I arrived to our group room, the group was having a discussion about something that appeared to not sit well with some of our group members. I asked the one guy in my group what he was talking about when I walked in, since he was the one leading this discussion. Apparently, it involved “a favor” by one of our group members who was not in with us at that particular time. I did not agree in carrying out that favor so I asked the members how they felt about it right before I shared my feelings of disagreement with the situation. It was like opening the flood gates. Nobody agreed but everyone appeared to have difficulties expressing that initially. We decided to talk more about it at the end of group. We did and the favor was not carried out. I guess I put everyone at ease in expressing their feelings when I spoke about mine.

My goal for today was to increase the comfort level in our group. Personally, I also wanted to get to know everyone on a deeper level. For that reason, I initiated an activity that offered the group members an opportunity to share something intimate. One of the women, for one, came right out of her shell. It was amazing. It was almost as if somebody else was sitting in her place. She came right out and admitted to not being assertive and shared her feelings about how others make her feel unimportant because she does not More

I cannot understand my behavior and always held my genetic makeup liable. I even went as far as thinking that perhaps I had inherited some type of mental problem. Why am I having these outbursts? Why am I always so angry? I cannot really explain except that I knew “he” had become my enemy in my head for so many years. Nobody knew it. But I did. I can hear the thumps as he walked up the stairs. It is a different type of way he walks when he is mad. I knew I had to hide in my closet. I would lock my door and put as many things as I could find in front of it. He was coming after me once again. As he is walking up, I can hear him calling me names. Where are you? You are nothing but a big fat zero to the left. How many times do I have to tell you not to eat in the living room you idiot. You cannot possibly be my child you retarded low life. I can hear that he had already removed his belt as the buckle chimes like bells. The problem is, I am 35 years old now.

These are the words of an adult who has experienced abuse as a child. It never goes away. What exactly is child abuse? Some may argue about its definition of and may think an old fashion whooping is what is needed to keep children tamed. They figure, “dam those laws that make those children the bosses now.” However, one may never know the effect of such actions on a child. The outcome may have been preventable but instead we are left with more child abusers, abuse victims, aggressive personalities, or More