Scarred By Domestic Violence, But Learning to Cope

BY PENGSU XIONG YOUTH REPORTER

Christmas presents. Santa Claus. My family smiling. Those are some of the happy images I started drawing after the first time I saw my parents hit each other. I was 9 years-old and scared, and I wanted to ignore all the fighting.

Like most other parents, mine had disagreements and would argue sometimes. But one day, the verbal blows turned physical. My parents usually tried to hide their arguing, but this was different. As they fought, I became afraid and it felt like my mind could not handle the situation.

I began breathing extremely fast and was unable to catch my breath. It was my first panic attack, but not my last.

Usually my parents argued about money. My dad worked on trains and my mom worked at a bakery, but it seemed we never had enough to make ends meet. Things only got worse between my parents when my dad went to Laos. He spent all of our money there and was unfaithful to my mom. She divorced him and he moved out of our house, but that didn’t stop the conflict.

Ever since I witnessed that abuse as a 9 year-old, I’ve experienced panic attacks whenever I see people fight. So when I was recently asked to wrestle in my high school P.E. class I didn't know what to do. I watched as my classmates were paired off to fight for their grade. I started to lose my breath; I was so scared. No matter how fast I breathed and shook, I still pictured my parents fighting.

Luckily, the class period ended before my partner and I were up to duel, so our match was postponed until the next day. After class, I told my gym teacher that I was uncomfortable wrestling and he said I wouldn’t have to fight the next day. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I never wanted to tell anybody about what I was going through. I thought I was the only one with family problems, so I didn’t want others to know. I was also afraid that if I told someone about what happened, the police would take away my dad for assault. I was so young, and trying to process what would be best for my family and me.

I never went to therapy because even if I’d said something my family couldn’t afford it. But I found my own ways of coping. My sister watched a lot of Bollywood movies, and I noticed that people in those films sometimes used meditation to help get their feelings under control. So I started sitting in calm areas, copying what I saw in the movies, trying to be at peace with myself.

Eventually I started to talk to friends and teachers about what I was feeling. No one knew what to do, but just the process of letting it out was a relief. It was hard to trust others, but slowly I started to tell my story.

To this day I struggle with my panic attacks, but they are not as severe as before. I continue to practice meditation and talk to people about my experiences. I wish I had opened up to friends and family earlier on, so that I would not have been alone.

Now I’m 16 and doing well in school. I especially like math. I earned a 4.0 G.P.A. in my first 3 semesters of high school. My family moved to Fresno, California last year and we are now near other family members, including my aging grandfather.

When I first started writing this story I wanted it to be anonymous. I wanted to share my story but I didn’t want people to know that it was mine. But now that put my story down on paper, I want my name attached to it. I wrote this so that if others are having similar problems, they will know that they are not alone.

Pengsu, 16, still sketches and draws to relax. He wants to be a game designer after graduating high school and going to college.