Punishment - Self Reflection
“Punishment - Self-Reflection”
Some people say “Only time can heal the wounds” But I think that is not true because sometimes there are wounds that don’t heal or perhaps, they haven’t healed yet? This document will be focused in experiences I lived when I was a child and the way they have affected me physically and psychologically, especially my relationship with me my father.
Since I was a child I remember my parents being an example of respectfulness and authority. My parents used to be very strict, now they have changed after my brother was born, and they always wanted me to be the number one in everything. I remember I used to get excellent grades at school but there were times when I would not get an A+, and the kind of punishment they used to use was physical, the leather belt was the favorite toy.
In my country, Venezuela, it is very common to see physical punishment and verbal insults among families as a method to change a behavior. As I continued growing up, I started suffering from depression because being bullied at school and my grades were not as good as they used to be, as a result my father would punish me in the best way he knew, physically.
When I was around twelve years old, my mother had already noticed that I was depressed, and she took me to a psychologist, I was diagnosed with depression. She had also realized that physical punishment was not the right way to correct my behavior, but my father had not. He used to be model of the “macho” The only way was his way, and that was it.
I turned fourteen, and even though I was under treatment, I would still be depressed. I used to do as much as I could to get good grades, but apparently it was not enough for him. One year later I was taken to a military school and the things got much worse.
Being bullied at school every day during a whole year and try to cope with it is not easy. But to my father, it was time to learn how to defend myself from others. I used to cry every day because I was
Some people say “Only time can heal the wounds” But I think that is not true because sometimes there are wounds that don’t heal or perhaps, they haven’t healed yet? This document will be focused in experiences I lived when I was a child and the way they have affected me physically and psychologically, especially my relationship with me my father.
Since I was a child I remember my parents being an example of respectfulness and authority. My parents used to be very strict, now they have changed after my brother was born, and they always wanted me to be the number one in everything. I remember I used to get excellent grades at school but there were times when I would not get an A+, and the kind of punishment they used to use was physical, the leather belt was the favorite toy.
In my country, Venezuela, it is very common to see physical punishment and verbal insults among families as a method to change a behavior. As I continued growing up, I started suffering from depression because being bullied at school and my grades were not as good as they used to be, as a result my father would punish me in the best way he knew, physically.
When I was around twelve years old, my mother had already noticed that I was depressed, and she took me to a psychologist, I was diagnosed with depression. She had also realized that physical punishment was not the right way to correct my behavior, but my father had not. He used to be model of the “macho” The only way was his way, and that was it.
I turned fourteen, and even though I was under treatment, I would still be depressed. I used to do as much as I could to get good grades, but apparently it was not enough for him. One year later I was taken to a military school and the things got much worse.
Being bullied at school every day during a whole year and try to cope with it is not easy. But to my father, it was time to learn how to defend myself from others. I used to cry every day because I was