Fighting back.

When I was a kid I had some horribly abusive, sadistic, alcoholic parents.

One of their favorite past times was to order my brothers to beat me up.

We were never allowed on the furniture as kids, so inevitably we'd end up in a row in front of the tv.

If the show was particularly boring, my parental units would spice it up by telling my brothers to beat on me. They'd direct it like a movie.

"Pull her hair! Harder!" and they would. To the point that I'd have small bald spots.

"Kick her, punch her!" and they would. With their small feet and fists that always got me in the tenderest of spots.

I'd be ordered to not fight back with the threat of them joining in if I did. Sometimes, just for shits and giggles, they'd join in anyway.

There I'd be, 4 people beating my na'chul born ass.

Now, I'm wondering if that's why I am like I am. I fight pain infliction like a pissed off honey badger. I seek it out, then fight it. Same with humiliation.

Key words: fight it.

I was never allowed to fight back. I was forced to just sit there and take a beating. All while being laughed at.

It makes me think that maybe I'm working out some psychological shit and didn't even know it.