An Analysis of the Types of Physical Abuse

It's no secret that I experienced a multitude of types of physical abuse at the hands of my biological parents. As a child, I examined and categorized the various forms and rated them on a personally created scale.
1) Slapping, with an open hand, usually to the face. An adult hand basically covers the entire one half of child's face. The physical pain was akin to an intense burn that gradually diminished. It frequently left an imprint the next day, which my mother would cover with make-up if there was school or a family function.
Slapping, in my family, seemed to be a reflex action and completely unexpected. There was no way to run or prepare for it, except to keep my mouth shut.
Emotionally, the slap felt very personal, highly insulting, as if by my mere presence my abuser was disgusted. It damaged self-esteem, was a reminder of my worthlessness and zero value. When slapped in public, around other family members, it was a public humiliation, like standing naked on a street corner, ostracized, laughed at, made an example of.
I would rather be punched or kicked as opposed to this act of violence...this violation.
2) Punching and Hitting, the most common type of abuse for me. We will talk about pure, physical violence, as opposed to the hitting with objects, which is actually different.
Hitting was usually the result of doing something wrong, not good enough, forgetting a task, repayment for an infraction against a sibling...in a strong sense, it was anticipated. I saw it coming. Cause and effect. If I did x then I would suffer with y.
In order to try and avoid being hit, I continually self-monitored my behavior. I became constrained within myself and memorized the various rules, carefully trying to remember each previous act that had caused me to be struck. It felt like I had a large degree of control over being hit. Well, to some degree as being in a house with seven children, oft times fingers were pointed at the innocent or parents grabbed and inflicted upon the closest one.
Punches hurt physically deeper, which, in my childish mind was often "better" as the pain was spread out over different sensory skin levels. Hmmm, okay, slapping just stung, like, one or two layers of nerve cells, confining them in a way...the pain couldn't hide or mitigate, whereas punching almost overwhelmed the affected area, making it a less and different type of pain.
I guess I should mention that I am autistic and have triple the amount of sensory neurons...in a sense, I feel so much more physically.
Emotionally, hitting wasn't as personal or insulting as slapping. It was so routine that it was a non-issue, nothing to get too upset about. It was the way my family worked.
Hitting with an object...mother with her white, Avon hair brushes, spatulas, spoons and curtain rods, was even less personal, less painful emotionally.
3) Scratching and Grabbing. Scratching, fingernails drawing blood, leaving permanent scars, was the result of being grabbed gone bad. Either I was running or trying to wrest away, or caught off guard by my mother. The scars on my neck, hands and arms are the forever reminders that I wasn't quick enough. I was coached on how to lie about them, as they were clearly visible for days. Yeah, my dog scratched me or I was playing with my brothers or some such tale.
Grabbing meant one of my parents got a hold of me when I wanted to get away and couldn't. It felt like failure. The following blows were worse for attempted escapees. It was so much easier just to confess to something I didn't do than to be grabbed, hard, by the arm, hand, neck or hair.
Emotionally, grabbing felt like being caught in a bear trap. Helplessness, that sinking feeling of personal failure and the impending doom of what would come next or when will I be released. Devastation.
If a parent was grabbing, they were highly frustrated and angry, desperate. There was no way to know what would happen next. High fear. Very high fear.
4) Burning, the intentional infliction of pain and scars with either matches or cigarettes. These are my scars from my dad and his mom, my grandmother. I always saw them coming. I was supposed to. These were purely intentional acts of torture, suppression and keeping me quiet. It worked quite effectively.
The physical pain, well, if you've ever had a burn you know. The pain is above intense and lasts for days.
Emotionally, I don't know if words can accurately portray...A lot of it was regarding their power and control over me. I guess I can't really go into the emotional scars quite yet.
I was going to add a couple more but I'll stop here. I think I've said enough to give you a good idea of how damaging some forms of physical child abuse can be.