Recent research has demonstrated a relationship between childhood abuse and a number of adult ailments, including arthritis, depression, cancer, and psychosis.
The research, published in journals in America, Australia, Canada and England, notes the following connections:
· Adults who experienced physical abuse as children have 56 per cent higher odds of osteoarthritis compared to those who have not been abused, according to a study by University of Toronto researchers published in Arthritis Care and Research.
· Childhood physical abuse is associated with elevated rates of cancer in adulthood, according to another study by University of Toronto researchers to be published in the journal, Cancer.
· People who were abused and neglected during childhood have a higher risk of major depression when they become young adults, according to a report in the January issue of the Archives of General Psychiatry, one of the JAMA/Archives journals. In addition, depressed men who were abused have ten times higher risk of suicide, according to an article in the British Journal of Social Work.
· Researchers at the Institute of Psychiatry, King's College London have published new research in The British Journal of Psychiatry which indicates that women with severe mental illness are more likely to have been abused in childhood that the general population.
· Childhood sexual abuse significantly increases the risk of developing drug and alcohol issues, mental illness and marital strife in men and women, according to a study in American Journal of Preventive Medicine.
This research underscores the long-term devastation caused by childhood abuse and shows links between it and a growing number of adult diseases and disorders. And it calls attention to a problem—be it physical, emotional, or sexual abuse—that has been escalating over the past decade.
For years, families swept childhood under the rug and some researchers believed that it had only limited long-term effect. Indeed, some researchers stated that a child could grow out of it once he became an adult. This new research shatters this mythology once and for all.
Although recent researchers don’t offer an explanation for the link between abuse and a myriad of illnesses, one can conjecture that any kind of child abuse engenders low self-esteem, bad coping method, and a pessimistic outlook on life. These three factors alone would predispose victims of child abuse to a number of illnesses. In addition, bad hygiene and physical posture associated with child abuse victims could explain the many cases of arthritis later on.
This research goes counter to recent trends to seek primarily biological explanations for mental disturbances as well as for physical ailments. It clearly shows that environmental traumas continue to have at least a partial effect on the development of adult problems.
Maybe, just maybe, by focusing on the many long-term effects of childhood abuse, we may at last be able to come up with some preventative measure that will help us to diminish or even eliminate it from our culture. Wouldn’t that be nice?
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This is hard for me to believe- just have a read of part of what I went through as a child
ReplyDeleteI was being queried about my visit to the family downstairs, before I could answer; I had received a kick to the back of my head from my dad’s black boots. Not just once, I received about two to three kicks to the back of my head. I did not see
them coming. By the time I had received the second kick, blood was dripping from my head down my neck to the floor and I had fallen to the ground.I was in deep pain. I could not answer the questions he continued to ask. My head was throbbing painfully I heard my mother shout to my father to stop it. He stopped and left me there on the floor, still bleeding of course. She pulled me up from the ground and quickly got a wad of tissue to wipe the blood. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, she held the tissue to my head until blood was no longer dripping. I was told to go to bed.My head was throbbing and aching so badly that I had to hold my head to go to sleep. I don’t know how long it took me to fall asleep that night. All I can remember was that I woke up in the middle of the night crying and screaming, because I was in so much pain.When the light was switched on, I could see that my pillow was covered in blood. Quickly, my father got out of bed and when he saw the blood he shouted - “eweje!” meaning - Look at blood! My parents had a frantic discussion between themselves. Some of the things they said, I neither heard nor understood, while I was holding my very painful, aching and throbbing head. However, I heard them agree and say that they had to call the ambulance service immediately. Some of the blood had clotted and locks of my hair were stuck together. The injury was still bleeding profusely down my neck. Dad called the ambulance service and told them that I had a head injury; sustained from a fall down the stairs. What are the odds of that happening? This was a single room apartment, where the only flight of stairs was situated outside the room. Meanwhile, I could hear my parents telling me the likely questions I would be asked and the likely responses I should give. Simply, I was being coached to tell blatant lies. In my pain, I knew I had no choice in the matter. Fearing for what could be in stock for me if I didn’t toe the line. Firstly, I should tell them that I slipped and fell down the stairs. Secondly there was no-one around to see what happened. They were teaching me to lie to get them out of trouble. The ambulance service arrived, the paramedics came upstairs. One asked my parents what had happened, while another paramedic was attending to me, applying wads of cotton wool to the injury to stop the bleeding. The paramedic then carried me into the ambulance where they made sure that I was comfortable. The driver quickly sped off, blue lights flashing on the way to King’s College Hospital in Camberwell. Within minutes we had arrived at the hospital, where I was whisked off from the ambulance straight to the Accident and Emergency Department in a stretcher. I was immediately attended to because I was still bleeding profusely. Once in the emergency department they immediately applied an ice pack to the back of my head
to stop the bleeding. I was in so much pain, I felt as if my head was going to blow up as the throbbing pain continued. When the doctor asked me how I sustained the injury, I responded as coached by my parents that I fell down the stairs. I could see by the puzzled look on his face,
that he found that difficult to believe or inconsistent with the injury. He hummed and asked how that happened, I answered and said that I slipped and fell down the stairs. He must have suspected that my story was not a true account and promptly probed further. “What did you slip on?” I couldn’t answer that question. I just stared at him because I did not know what to say.
What do you think?
Lydia Taiwo
Author
What A Life!