Abusers are Thieves

I had this very thought as I got myself together for an appointment with my mechanic.  Not that what they stole from me had much to do with my car. I’ve just been thinking about them a lot lately.

And there in lies my point right there in that example. They steal your mind and your thoughts so that your mind is preoccupied with them and what they did.

They steal self esteem and self confidence.

The steal the life that could’ve and should’ve been.

Just think of all the abused adult children walking around in learned helplessness because they have no faith in themselves.

Now think about all they could’ve done, all the differences they could’ve made in the world, no matter how small (because ripple effect) if we’d all been nurtured according to our talents and loved simply because we existed.

 

Family Scapegoat Has Enough

Below is a post I originally wrote back on July 21, 2013, just a few months after my father passed.It was on one blog and I’d left it in “Draft.” When I found it again, I’d posted it in another blog on February 16, 2017. Both blogs abandoned.

Today, July 29, 2017 I came across it again and felt it belonged here.

It’s interesting to read it now after so much time, because I have experienced a sort of slight dissociative amnesia, in between the dates at different times, concerning different things pertaining to my family.

Back in the early part of having severed ties, I was newly waking up to the abuse from my family…more or less.

I was able to see it more clearly I guess you could say. I began to know without doubt that they were causing me loads of emotional and mental harm. Through the years, I knew something was wrong, but I had a lot of self doubt, which I know now came from much gas lighting.

But now, years later, I read this (and many other things I wrote back in 2013) and I can see the self-awareness and the fact that I’d awakened to their bullshit.  But now, with so much time passed, there are things I read here and had forgotten that that was how it went down.

Sometimes I can’t even articulate as well now as I did then as to why I don’t speak to my family. I just say that they abused me in the last months of contact with them. But it’s so much more and deeper than that.

Makes me really glad I wrote during those early days. So without further ado…

They knocked me down but I’m not staying there

Another email arrived, even after I said I needed time and space away from the family. My mother still insisted on asking something of me before she went to France.

When I sent the email in response to a vague message she left on my voice mail, I made it clear I was not available.

At least I thought I did.

But she insisted on asking anyway, to see if I’d be finished “taking my space” by the time she wanted me to house and cat-sit while she traveled.

I told her no, and pretty much left it at that. It was weird for me not to spin into an explanation to try to control her feelings for me.

I grew up explaining myself, pleading my own cases, even when it seemed both senseless and common sense. The outcome for me was the same. I worried about what she thought and how she’d feel.

I found I was asking myself a lot, “What the fuck? Why can’t she understand without an explanation?”

Now I ask, “Why do I feel the need to explain?”

Normally, I would’ve felt compelled to tell her why. But not this time.

I had attempted too many times to discuss things that needed to be cleared up and resolved. I tried more times than I can count, to lead the big elephants out of the room. But she made it clear one day, she’d had enough and was no longer open to discussions initiated in this vein.

I don’t think* my mom has enough awareness to know why I want the time. And in my mind, it’s permanent…this ‘No Contact’ status, because I don’t think she’ll ever realize the real problem, because the problem is me…according to her.

It started with me, she believes. Her words to me over the phone after I’d answered a question she’d asked about the tension among my siblings and me.

Later after that conversation as well as others, she engaged in and enabled some of the manipulation and triangulation among my sister, herself and me.  And the fucked up thing is, that at the time I viewed it as her being helpful, a mediator for us.  But when I ‘woke up’ I saw it for what it was. She had leaned too much to the side of my sister, for her actions to be that of a mediator.

It’s gone on too long and the roles are so ingrained.

Things are more clear now concerning my toxic family dynamic and it’s dysfunction. And I believe, to remove myself from all of it, is the healthiest option in all aspects of the word ‘health.’

There is so much to work through. It hurts, the way things have come about, and the very thought of learning that love doesn’t exist in my family of origin is very painful.

But most important at the moment, is to keep myself clear of giving them or anyone the opportunity to spew their toxic sludge all over me with blame, finger pointing and taking no accountability.

I have quit the job of family scapegoat.

*I know my mother didn’t and doesn’t have enough awareness now. Between the date originally written and now, she has proven it to me more than once.

Denying Abuse is Cultist Behavior

cults-250x150aI wrote late last night about being ready to return to therapy. But I don’t think I mentioned how damaged and… well…I don’t even know what word would describe how I felt yesterday. Depressed, sad, angry, even suicidal doesn’t even seem to quite cut it.

I was in hell…not that I’d know what ‘real hell’ is but I was in a lot of pain yesterday. The effects of things my father had done got an intense emotional grip.

His words said he loved me. Even some of his actions did. But so many more of his actions were nasty, mean and scapegoating.

Worthless! That’s a good word to describe how I felt yesterday.

And the kicker is that my family sees me as the one who’s fucked up and the cause of the issues. My siblings are in such denial about how our parents treated us and raised us. How they ignored so much of the bullying and dysfunction among all of us.

Last night, while watching videos on YouTube, it occurred to me to check out some Jehovah Witness videos. The last relationshit (an affair) I had was with an ex JW himself, and I wanted to see what some of the ex-members had to say about what I see as a cult.

While watching and listening to one guy, he mentioned an episode of a show called “Panorama” which features stories of the pedophilia in the JW “church”. So I watched that too.

It’s hard to stomach shit like this, but it was very eye opening. It was disgusting how this organization ignores what is happening to the children and when the parents go to the ‘elders’ (who more properly should be called slimy pieces of shit) in this cult, to report the crime, they are waved away and told to pray.

The mothers of these violated children, were so brainwashed into believing that these slime ball elders knew better than the mothers themselves, so the mothers would stay and do essentially nothing to protect their children. If they left they’d have nowhere to go essentially.

Of course the abuse of children continues while the elders and members of the organization stay in life-damaging denial, which results in allowing all that abuse to continue to happen.

Talk about sick shit!

This morning, after I’d processed my yesterday and this documentary, I realized that walking away from an abusive family…whether the abuse is physical or emotional, or both, it’s like getting away from a cult.

While it’s true I have a roof over my head as a result of the kindness of a friend, it’s not the same as having family to count on, having a mother to go to, having siblings to relate to and remember things with.

It’s extra sad when the people who are supposed to love you, understand you, be there for you, even provide some semblance of protection in the world, deny everything you struggle with, deny the abuse and chaos, as well as the damage it all caused.

That is cultist behavior.