I remember growing up and holding my sister when she was scared of my dad yelling. Afraid of his temper. Now that time is over. No more do I have to listen to my dad yell at my mom. I have to listen to my husband yell at me. I have to listen to him yell at the kids. And I have to hold scared crying kids who are afraid of his outbursts. 

J kept hitting W this morning. E grabbed j and held him, with him crying hysterically. For much of the time he was crying for me to help him. And I couldn’t. I ended up leaving the room hoping that if I wasn’t in view he would forget about me. He didn’t. And I listened to him cry for me more.  More than ten minutes he had him there. And I abandoned him. I didn’t argue. I didn’t ask e to stop. I just was quiet, hoping that e would figure out he wasn’t helping. He kept asking him if he was going to stop hitting and J kept responding no. He didn’t know what he was answering I don’t believe because he was so upset. 

I am such a bad parent for not helping him. 

Here’s the thing. Everyone keeps telling me I should live to help the kids. But I’m not helping. I’m just watching, too scared to help. If I died, I wouldn’t have to watch anymore. I wouldn’t have to see their pain. 

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