Hi guys. I started hanging out in this forum during the Sherin Mathews case but I've never posted. Like all of you, this case has absolutely gutted me. After reading previous posts/threads, particularly some of the comments wondering why the survivors didn't escape sooner or why the authorities didn't intervene earlier, I felt compelled to share my perspective.
To provide the relevant backstory for my feelings about this case: I was raised in a home with pervasive physical and emotional abuse. My father was a well-respected, wealthy medical professional who worked in a mental institution prior to its shutdown, and one of my punishments (by far the most long-term detrimental) was the use of isolation. Using the system similar to the one implemented in the hospital, I was confined to my room- escorted for bathroom breaks, fed intermittently in my room, unable to use the phone/listen to music/etc.- for one week increments, and could "level up" to more freedom- using the bathroom unescorted, allowed a snack, given a CD player with one Christian CD of his choosing- if I didn't "mess up" at any point during the week. This started around Kindergarten, and within a couple of years, the "leveling up" basically ceased. My saving grace was that because my father started using the home for private practice, I was put into public school so I was out of the home during working hours, where I tried desperately to just be "normal".
Here are the things I, personally, think of when I consider the facts of this case. First, DT was an engineer for Northrop Grumman. This is a man who made good money, is well-educated, and would be viewed at first glance as a respectable member of the community. There is still such a pervasive tendency on the part of authorities to automatically believe someone like that. On the couple of occasions I tried to tell someone what was going on, it was ultimately chalked up to "medical professional and pastor" versus "problem child", and I learned quickly that being the "problem" was only going to cost me BIG time. I can't even fathom the level of abuse these precious children could've been returned to. It literally makes me ill to consider it.
Second, this has been said but has to be reiterated, the prison of your mind is the hardest to escape. As an adult, I've been asked NUMEROUS times by people I knew as a child why I didn't just leave. For the reasons listed above, and probably more importantly, because the ways in which isolation, abuse, and family dysfunction affects your view of self can't be understated. And I had 6-ish hours out of the house per day!! These survivors, at a fundamental level, don't know what they're capable of because they don't know who they are. They don't know what human beings are supposed to be like, they don't know what they're supposed to be like in relation to other human beings, they just. Don't. Know. They are on a long and difficult road to maybe never fully understanding, because socialization as a child can't be replicated.
Third, I strongly feel that these types of punishments/abuses are far more common and widespread than people realize. My family are fundamentalist "Christians", and, while my father was extreme and at some level I knew what was happening to me felt wrong, I also truly believed that I DESERVED the punishment, that at some level I was a "problem" child and "extra sinful", and my punishments weren't that far from the norm. Because I knew of other kids just like me. The journal writing these kids were allowed/forced to do? God, that hit home. This was a tactic used in my home, and writing in those journals both kept me going and condemned me. I'm going to tell you right now that I truly believe the situation was the same, where the kids were forced to reflect on whatever they did/whatever "bad" character trait their parents noticed that day (my dad called it "writing essays"), and then punished for their feelings. Again, the thought makes me sick. But these are things other families do. And it's abusive and wrong, but it happens.
Anyway, I'm myself now a married mother who has to go get some little kids ready for school. But even as someone who has experienced just, the tiniest most miniscule taste of being isolated and hurt as a child, I still suffer. I can't send my kids to their room without going in there with them 5 minutes later to sit with them during their time outs so they know I don't hate them. I suffer from horrible social anxiety, and willingly isolate myself as an adult because it's comfortable, despite years of therapy. All the medication in the world doesn't change being a little helpless person behind a locked door all those years ago. My eyes are so full of tears that I can hardly write thinking about those precious kids and what they went through, and what they'll go through every day forever because of the monsters who gave birth to them. The girl who escaped? She's my hero. I don't know if I've ever admired someone more. All of them lived. They're all heroes.
