After my twins were born in 2004, I worried about their poor health. I had a job as an art gallery administrator, so after their situation improved they were looked after by their grandmother. But I missed them a lot.
My relationship with my husband was on the rocks. We argued over everything. He was unemployed and I was the sole breadwinner. When I returned home from a hard day's work, my eldest daughter, then seven, never listened to me but instead argued, making life miserable for me. I easily flared up.
I felt utterly helpless and even contemplated suicide several times. During those months, I often hit my daughter. I knew it was not the right thing to do, but I couldn't control myself. I deeply regretted spanking her. I remember once beating her with a hanger, bruising her. I was really sorry for this.
I discussed the matter with a social worker at Against Child Abuse. I understood that beating my daughter was wrong. But when she misbehaved, I couldn't help beating her again.
The struggle wore me out. I was in acute pain.
Now when I recall the nightmare, I cannot even remember exactly why I was mad at her. I shouldn't expect a seven-year-old to understand my feelings. There could have been so many better ways to ease the situation.