Little Madhouse on the Prairie: A True-Life Story of Overcoming Abuse and Healing the Spirit

by Marion Elizabeth Witte

Overview

Marion Witte was raised in a little house on the prairie, but her childhood was nothing like the idyllic version of childhood made famous by Laura Ingalls. Witte's story has its roots in immigrant grandparents who struggle to make a living on the harsh Midwestern plains. Unbelievable hardship, alcoholism, abuse and abandonment were the norm during her youth. Witte endured punishments that had devastating emotional effects. She was often locked in a dark, dirty cellar with the rats and mice, terrifed and too little to turn on the light bulb that hung high above her. As Witte retells the circumstances of her youth, it becomes clear that this book is much more than a compelling story of childhood mistreatment. The crux of her story maintains that once abuse stops, the psychological damage lingers. Even as Witte graduated from college, became a CPA, and had her own family, she knew that there were wounds to be healed. Witte takes the reader on the journey she pursued to heal from the past, and the pitfalls and successes of that process. Her honest and compassionate portrayal draws the reader into an analysis of negative adult behaviors and why we may behave in an emotionally immature manner. This is a book that connects the dots between our childhood experiences, our current adult behavior and the way we parent.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780982225431
Publisher:	Wise Owl Publishing, Inc.
Publication date:	02/01/2011
Pages:	240
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.55(d)

About the Author

Marion Witte is a writer, speaker, entrepreneur and child advocate. She established the Angel Heart Foundation, a non-profit organization that promotes personal healing as a primary step in abuse prevention. By telling her own story, she hopes to open readers’ eyes to the serious and long-term damage caused by all forms for childhood mistreatment. She argues that only through awareness, education and healing can society prevent such future violence. The author's website is marionwitte.com

Read an Excerpt

"The Cellar"

As I grew older, sometimes my mother would engage my brother in carrying out my punishment. An offense worthy of a serious reprimand, such as "sassing back," would have harsh repercussions, one of them being locked in the cellar. I would obey my mother’s command to walk into the pantry and wait while my brother opened the cellar door so that I could descend the stairs. I do not remember being upset with my brother for his involvement. I told myself that he was only following orders and he would not harm me on his own. Soon enough I would find out that I was wrong about that.

The pantry was adjacent to the kitchen. Flour, sugar and canned goods lined the wooden shelves, along with purchases from the Watkins Company. The traveling salesman, whom we children fondly called the "Watkins Man," would stop at the farm monthly, selling the seasonings, spices, baking goods and fruit punch mix he carried in his truck.

The cellar door was in the floor of the pantry. It was about three feet by six feet, and one side of it was hinged to the floor. My mother or brother opened it by pulling up on a large metal ring on the door, then waited while I carefully descended the ladder-like stairs that led from the pantry into the darkness of the cellar.

The cellar was basically a dirt dug-out that provided a cold storage area for canned goods and potatoes. There were no windows. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling and its pull chain dangled from the fixture. It was impossible for a small child like me to reach the chain, so when I was in the cellar, it was absolutely dark. No light seeped in around the edges of the overhead door. It was stark, abject darkness. My brother, or sometimes my younger sister, was given the job of standing on the cellar door so I could not open it from underneath. It would have made no difference if it had not been sealed in this manner; my terror was enough to make me a prisoner. I was five years old when my mother first made me go down to the cellar. Even as I write this, the hairs on the back of my neck rise in a replay of that terror.

In the darkness and silence, I heard the scratching and scurrying of the mice and rats that infested the cellar. At times, I thought I saw their eyes staring at me. Sitting on one of the rungs of the ladder, I would pull my legs up to my chest as tightly as I could. I thought if I didn’t breathe maybe those little demons would not hear me, and they would not bite at my toes. I became an expert at not breathing.

The first time I remember experiencing what I have come to think of as "leaving my body" was in the cellar. I can best describe this as a disassociation of thoughts and emotions from the experience. I was fully awake and aware of what was happening, yet it was as though I was an observer of the event instead of the one experiencing it. My physical senses seemed to be dulled, and although I could still see and hear, I had little feeling or emotion about what was occurring. This technique, which I believe my mind developed as a survival tool, was out of my control. It would automatically take over at times when I experienced extreme pain, terror, or danger. When I "returned" from one of these episodes, I would often still be experiencing the physical pain but have no conscious recollection of any feelings that were associated with the event. As I later came to understand, the emotional aspect of the memory had been deeply buried in my unconscious, where it affected my behavior and my deepest feelings about myself in the most insidious and harmful ways.

When I was in the cellar, and still in my body, I sat on the stairs and had many thoughts about myself. "I was bad." "I was unworthy." "I was unlovable." I never saw my brother or sister being put in the cellar, so I thought there must be something terribly wrong with me. I thought these thoughts, sitting in the dark on the wooden stairs, and I held on to these ideas, even though they were untrue, throughout many of my adult years. The cellar abuse stopped when I was eight, but I continued to abuse myself with my cellar thinking for years to come. The cellar was a perfect representation of the isolation and abandonment I felt as a small child. And having continually experienced this as a youngster, it became very natural for me to find situations and environments that recreated these experiences well into my adult life.

What People are Saying About This

The Rev. Dr. Addyse Lane Palagy

A PROVOCATIVE READ

To be of real interest, every character you meet, either in life or in a book, must be vulnerable, resilient and, finally, able to endure and survive. Ms. Witte, in her memoir of childhood abuse, reveals all of these qualities and takes us with her on a voyage of triumphant emerging self-hood. That she felt she had to do it alone is a poignant reminder of her innate strength. Little Madhouse on the Prairie is a provocative read for anyone who is involved in childhood abuse, either as a secret perpetrator or victim. Witte showed that a person does not need to stay in either role forever, and that a little child can lead parents away from the trap of imitating their own abusive parents. As in most of life, forgiveness is the key to survival. As Witte learns to forgive, her chances of recovery grow steadily. Reading this book can teach one much about forgiveness. The worst self-indulgence this world offers is the cruel parental abuse of a trusting and ever-loving child. A good book. Read it and weep for abused children everywhere and try to stop the infection. It is highly contagious. --( The Rev. Dr. Addyse Lane Palagy, The Episcopal Church Diocese of Oregon)

Dr. Richard Darling

SUPERB AND CLEAR PORTRAYAL OF HEALING, WELLNESS AND EMPOWERMENT As an author, I strongly endorse this effort by an amazingly talented new author, Marion Witte. Normally one does not expect such an excellent result from a novice; however, Marion succeeds beyond all expectations with her book. Not only is it well written, but it gives a thorough, intimate portrayal of child abuse and then, in great detail, it offers clear actions for a victim of abuse to take to begin the healing process and empower oneself toward a new life of wellness and uplifting spirituality. I applaud this new author for her superb effort and recommend “Little Madhouse on the Prairie” to all. --(Dr. Richard Darling, DDS, Palm Desert, California Author of Coma Life:Touch Me, Talk to Me, I’m Here)

Gold

A BOOK THAT ENGENDERS HOPE

In Little Madhouse on the Prairie, Marion describes the abuse she suffered as a child and the actions she took to recover from the abuse. As a therapist, I am struck with her progression from being a victim to personal empowerment. That came with the commitment to heal herself, not merely to survive the abuse, but to thrive. Her journey through various modes of healing will be valuable to others who have not yet made this journey. In the final section, Lessons I have Learned, the reader will gain an understanding of how childhood abuse can affect one’s behavior in the present. The book engenders hope because Ms. Witte shows that it is not the abuse itself, but rather her responses to the abuse that creates the person one becomes.--( Nan Gold, M.A., MFT, Past President of the Southern California Association for Marriage and Family Therapy)

Reading Group Guide

Book Club Discussion Topics

1. "Little Madhouse on the Prairie" begins by tracing the author’s family back several generations. What cultural conditions described in the book may have led to child abuse? How has parenting changed over the last several generations—or has it?

2. Did you feel sympathy for the Witte family’s hardships? What is the author’s attitude toward her ancestors? Why do you think the author wants readers to know about her grandparents’ lives?

3. As a culture we tend to romanticize farm life. What is the author’s attitude toward life on her family’s farm? Does she describe any positive aspects of being left to roam around the farm unsupervised?

4. The author vividly recounts the moment when she realized that keeping a spotless house was more important to her mother than treating her daughter with love. Do mothers today ever feel pressured to put housekeeping over the needs of their family?

5. Was the author’s brother to blame for his mistreatment of his sister? At what point did her brother shift from protector to tormentor? Do all families have a member who seems to get more than their share of abuse? 6. The author describes how television shows of the 1950s gave her a window onto a very different kind of family life than the one she knew. Discuss what she saw and whether or not you think television might play a similar role in the life of abused children today.

7. Why did no teacher, friend or family member step in to halt the abuse of the author? Were they unable to see the signs or was it completely hidden from view? What is our role in society when we see child abuse? Do we have an obligation to step forward? 8. What finally caused the author to confront her mother and say, more or less, enough is enough? Why doesn’t this bring about the end of the author’s misery?

9. To what does the author attribute her drive for perfection and achievement in college? Did it bring her happiness? 10. Were you surprised by the author’s relationship to alcohol? What in her history led her to take a pledge of sobriety? 11. The author’s in-laws provided loving parental role models. She tells a touching story of how her own daughter’s smudgy fingerprints were left on her mother-in-law’s sliding glass doors for weeks as a precious reminder of the little girl. How does the way in which we were parented influence our own parenting? Can we ever completely reject the voices and values that are drilled into us as children? Have you ever heard yourself say something to your children that was exactly what your mother would have said?

12. The author leaves her seemingly wonderful husband to embark on a journey to heal herself. How did you feel about this unorthodox choice? Respect? Censure? Have you ever had to make a similar choice?

13. Of the many paths the author traveled to heal from abuse, which seemed to have worked the best? Why?

14. As the healing process begins to give the author perspective on her life, do her attitudes towards her mother, father and brother change? Discuss the role that forgiveness plays in her struggle to be whole.

15. The author confronts a woman who is abusing her child at a department store. What action do you think the author hopes people will take as the result of reading "Little Madhouse on the Prairie"? What would you do if you saw a child being abused in public?

Editorial Reviews

Growing up as a farmer’s daughter on the prairie, surrounded by lush green fields, should have been idyllic. Instead, generations of family dysfunction and fear created a nightmarish childhood of abuse and abandonment that took Marion a lifetime to overcome. Here is her life story, told with soul-baring detail, about the journey from anger and shame, to awareness and acceptance, and eventually -- forgiveness. This heartfelt tale of recovery is told with a loving spirit that proves to the reader that yes, there is always hope, and always a pathway back to grace. Jim Barnes, Editor

INDEPENDENT PUBLISHER MAGAZINE

AN INSIGHTFUL LOOK AT THE DARK SIDE OF RURAL LIFE

Life on the farm is not always the serene and happy picture it was on television. "Little Madhouse on the Prairie" is the memoir of Marion Witte, telling her own story of growing up in a small farm house, where she faced abuse from her mother on a regular basis, and which took her years to recover from. Stating how she overcame her own traumatic childhood, and with plenty of wisdom for those now facing the same, "Little Madhouse on the Prairie" is an insightful look at the dark side of rural life.

Midwest Book Reviews