The fights I’ve gotten into with my father starting around age ten were pretty violent. I was legitimately out of control. I’m not calling my father abusive. I blame the torture group for putting me in that situation. They had control over me. They instigated and pursued these fights through.
It would start with me being defiant and often fighting with a sibling. My parents would intervene but it was my father who dealt with me. They wanted me to go to their bedroom so my siblings could sleep. I put up a fight and was dragged there almost nightly for maybe a year.
My father is very strong and quickly figured out the ways the torture group established their limits. If he pinned one of my arms behind my back the torturers feared hurting me and obeyed him. If he stood in a dominating stance all senses prepared for battle the computer read him as about to attack me and would send me off to avoid him. He didn’t intend to be avoided.
Looking back it’s good to realize the torture group had limitations. They set me up to be manhandled. They added in pain attacks to my side of the fight. They were abusive to others and destructive to my family. But they were afraid of the police. They didn’t want them involved.
I still created fights for years. It’s been a good year of few fights and all verbal arguments. That can change.
I got into only a handful of fights outside of my house. All but one before the age of ten. I often bickered with a boy at school. I started fights on the bus with the bus driver which resulted in a boy on the bus slapping me. I got into a fight with a close school friend. I got into a fight with my sister’s best friend.