Are you a Victim or a Survivor of Child Abuse? Share Your Story and Seek Support
Are you a victim or a survivor of child abuse? This is a place where you can introduce yourself, share your story, and seek support.
Okay so i never really talked about this here, at least not in details so here we go, I'm sorry if this is long.
I feel like my parents have always been abusive, my dad more than my mom, but both of them are i think. I was born with a heart disease and they both blame me for it. They always compare me to my older brother who is perfectly healthy. My mom already told me that i'm not strong, that i owe her everthing. she never believed me when i said i have anxiety, i'm the one who went to the doctor to start therapy and she keeps telling me that i should thank her for that even though she never did a single thing for my anxiety, even after trying to talk to her about it for 10 years.
Since i was around 5 maybe, my dad started to be physically abusive. He would punch me in the arms/shoulder so nobody would notice the bruises. When i was 5 i also found out i was allergic to animals. And my dad kept telling me that the only gift i would get for my 18th birthday would be a suitcase because he'd rather have a dog than a daughter. He never allows me to go out or see other people (other than my one and only friend). When we go to the store he always follows me, sometimes he gets to close to me..
There was also that time when i was helping with the groceries at home and he smashed my face into a wall without any reasons, and my mom yelled at me for crying.
I learned how to defend myself but he keeps trying to hit me.
Whenever i go somewhere, like therapy, he always asks me tons of questions, same thing whenever i go out. Not like "how did it go" but like "what happened, when ? what did you talk about ? to who ? etc..." He also take his sister's defence even thought she wished my death.
I am not sure if this abuse or not. The one thing i know is that because of this i can't get close to other people, i am too scared they might hurt me. I am so sorry for this long post. I never really talked about here in details and i just wanted to get it out of my chest.
@No715 hi. Dont worry. I'm with you.I understand exactly how you feel. I undergone same situation. My dad abuse me and my mom blame me now they are taking control of my life. Exactly like always watching over or following. My sisters blame me too. And after both my parents sick. First my dad than he healed and then my mom now.my sisters and aunt are trying to pushed me on corner like trying making me feel guilty or blaming. They all my families hate my best friend my dog for sure. And trying to get rid off him by making me feel guilty over my mom illness saying the dog is one factors that can cause my mother illness gone worse. I did counseling over these past 10 years many psychiatric and psycholog. My dad is having mental problem he doesn't realize or admit.
@Imapatient
I'm so sorry you went through this. it's "good" to see that i'm not the only one.
@No715
Yes this is abuse. Violating your privacy, "teasing" you with jokes that undermine your feeling of security and saftey, breeding competition between you and your sibiling, guilt tripping you and taking credit for things they don't do, devaluing you worth as a daughter, hitting you but disguising it...this is all abusive behaviour. You should never feel unsafe in your home or afraid of your parents reactions. Unfortunately, the authorities are not quick to act if the abuse isn't extreme so you may not find a ton of help through Child Youth Services or whatever your local domestic help group is. I would discuss this with your therapist if you haven't already. Make sure your friends know of your situation. Start saving money where you can, just in case. If you have a trusted teacher, youth group leader, pastor, or neighbor maybe attempt talking with them but if you do not feel safe or feel like they may take actions that would put you in jeopardy, then do what you must. Practice self care to counteract the impact of your parents negative words and actions. This means building respect and trust in yourself. You have worth and are precious and there are people who are glad you are alive. Do not question your perception of your reality. You have support and a community willing to help you. It's going to be okay.
It's difficult to call it child abuse, however emotional awareness and being theraputic towards your children Was not something observed by my mother or my father's parents generation, so they did not know any better themselves. Also, I'd like to briefly add that in my opinion there are good and bad points to having evolved into becoming more psychologically aware of our children. The good points? Certainly , empathy, and compassion , but the bad points ?
far too much emphasis in dealing with children without any real experience in psychology. So every parent is suddenly an expert, not! . For instance, everyone wins awards ? After the age of 7, this seems counterproductive and self indulgent . I'm sure there are many more cons versus pros that others can add as examples .
However :
My experience : my father was a falanderer , At the age of 8, I had no idea that my father's drinking was a problem or that he was not being a responsible spouse or parent, I just loved him! At 8 , all I knew was his long trips out of town to his relatives were preceded with my becoming extremely sensitive to his absence and this was preceded with tears and stressing my mother more.
Mom belived I was old enough ( she said) to know "the truth about your father", she let me go over the summer with him. My father was so an alcoholic too,it wasn't long before I discovered his infidelity and it devasted me. I felt alone and not normal, depression began at age 8.
Okay.
Sometimes I WANT to talk about it, and sometimes I just think I'm just a terrible person who's just saying awful things about her own mother.
But that's the story I remember, even she telling nothing of this was true.
My parents divorced when I was 3, and I'm not really sure when my mom turned out to be abusive. She'd pull my hair (always one of my teo braids) and squeeze and grab tightly my arms, wrists and even scratch my legs. I would shrink against the seat of the car in the hope her hands wouldn't reach me.
Always screams, always stressed. I remember one time, when I was like 10, I wanted to go fix my hair at the salon, and she'd be mad because I gave up on doing it. She threw her cellphone on the floor with such strenght that it broke in several parts. It was so scary, and my grandma saw it all. I don't really think she knows I remember this.
My mom would yell at me all the time. I was an extremely fearful child. I had no friends. I wanted to be accepted SO bad.
There was a time she was more calm, like when I was 13 and 15. But she'd always turn that person again, the person I fear, the person I hate.
She calls me worthless, useless. She doesn't think I'm pretty. She doesn't ask how my day was. And if I do, she'd be ironic, like she is when I have panic attacks.
I had one during a trip with her boyfriend and her, and she got angry and told me I ruined eveything. She told me it was my fault because I couldn't control myself. And while I was shaking and out of breath. While I was numb and scared because of the scary joke her boyfriend did (yes, it was HIS fault, not mine), she yelled at me and left me sitting there, having the panic attack all by myself, and went to talk to him, she if he wanted some chocolate and check if he was upset with my reaction. Well, he was, and she got so mad at me.
This is NOT what a mother should do to her child. I'm blood of her blood, and he's just some other guy she thinks is cute.
I'm done. I'm seriously done. I just wanna run far away and forget everything she did to me. Sometimes I hate her, sometimes I love her, but that's the story I remember.
That's the story of my life throught my eyes.
@BabyBee18
Yes this sounds like abuse, or at the very least disdainful neglect.Your mother Should not expose you to things That are dangerous to you. Jokes should not be scary. When you are having a panic attack or other medical concern she Should take care of you.There is no excuse for going out of her way to make you feel bad. She's your mother.She should love you and encourage you Cause you deserve that. You have worth as a person.Just because she's an adult does not mean that she knows better than you. You deserve respect and not to be Put down On the basis of your appearance or anything. She shouldn't grab you or break things. Mature people are better at regulating their anger over small things.They do not take it out on their daughters.While we were all human, and it's easy to make mistakes, if this is a common reaction for her that is toxic. Perhaps you should try sharing your concerns with a trusted adult. A teacher Or Another relative Who you trust to not go back to her.Talk to your friends about it. Ask them if their parents act the way your mother does.More than that, trust in yourself. Understand that just because your mother does those things doesn't mean that she doesn't love you, but that doesn't excuse her behavior. It's possible that she just does not know the impact she has on you, but this doesn't make it okay. Arm yourself with knowledge. Read about abusive relationships, there are many free books you can read online.
I dont want to say victim , because simply of the word but i guess im a survivor.
I dont remember much from my childhood , i think my mind doesnt want to, the one few blurred memories i have are not very pleasent to me.My dad left us because he was ( is?? ) alcoholic, my mom always preferd to mind her own things such as like her career,friends and such so i was basically raised by my grandparents.Rather by my grandmother.My granfather was ( is ?? ) alcoholic too and sometimes he was very loud and violent.As i said i dont remember much but i recall hiding under my blanket and closing my eyes wishing it would end.I recall bruises my grandmother tried to hide from me.And mosty noises.My mum ignored things that happend at home or she did she would join them.My uncle ( who was likely the one that always defended me ) killed himself.Mum decided it would be best for me if went abroad to study ( i was like 6 yrs old?? ) so she sent me with my grandma to live with my aunts.
My aunts...well they did me good too.They were ( are ?? ) violent but mostly they are manipulative.I thought that everything that happend to me was completly normal.I wasnt allowed to doubt them because u would be punished.I wasnt allowed to say what i dont like because i would be punished.I wasnt allowed to cry because it was annoying.I was worthless,useless,stupid piece of something.I shouldnt have been born.I deserve to die.They are the ones that were taking care of me ( i didnt die, did i?? ) so i should just shut my mouth because im burden.After 10 years of living with them i realized that this wasnt normal, so i ran away.I was in foster care but it was almost same so i ended up in psychiatric hospitals.
Today im adolescent who shouldnt be so confused because its not whats expected from me.Confusion is luxury which only the very young can possibly afford and im not that young anymore.I dont have clue who iam.Pretending and adapting was the only thing i knew.Now i cant pretend nor adapt so well, even i just cant do properly stuffs that i should handle well.I dont remember stuffs that were bad.I dont remember stuffs that were good.I honestly just was and im.I dont know what are my hobbies, i dont know whats going inside my head nor what im feeling,i dont know how to be have relantionship, i dont know that to do with my life.I feel broken,void and sad.
Hi.I'm also victims of domestic abuse.mostly daily sarcasm like yelling or controlling.i had almost lost my life over suicide.And my mom said I'm going to hell. My dad is abusive too.he is having mental problem he doesn't even realize.He stays home since I was kid and has no job. He yelled sometimes,threw thing once in front of my friends.He once closed my face with pillow and my mom even blame me for that. We had physical fights over times.i still live with them sometimes I want to run.i have quite severe mental illness.a BPD I guess.once diagnosed as skizophrenia. My dad took me for years to psychiatric and mostly doctrines me. My mom always angry to me and my father. And now my sister even hate me and say bad things to me while she is younger and my whole family hate my only best friend my dog. I lost friends along the way some are judge. Not completely lost but just never same. I made couple new friends but mostly leave me.i still work but only can work at home.im afraid it became more severe. I'm thinking of counseling therapy.my childhood was full of abusing moment too. I was dragged if I got pee on pants or locked up or beaten if didn't want to sleep. I wish I could get help. I never good in making friends. I have many friends but mostly please everyone. Now I feel much rejections especially from parents, family, boss and male friends. Adding trauma,I received multiple exorcisms led by mom,aunt making me trouble to face reality.
I guess this may be the longest post ever...but I have abused myself for long enough. Its time to talk. I suffer from undiagnosed PTSD that started with childhood physical and sexual abuse. I dont know where the sexual abuse started, and honestly who did it. I always thought it was my father because of a few shameful memories of being naked in front of other men his age when I was 5. I remember being turned on by penises and self stimulation at age 7. My older sister would show me where my dad kept the key to his dirty magazines and movies and we would look thru them and watch the movies. I remember she had friends come over to play "house" and we would all play sexual role playing games directed by her. When I was 7 my mom found one of my sexual drawings and questioned me about it and I lied about what it was to get out of trouble. My father drank and hit me with a closed fist a lot. He would make me lay naked over the end of the couch and he would pound me with a wooden paddle till I couldn't sit down. I recall some inappropriate touching in my genital area too but this was up till9 or ten years old. Once on a camping trip, when I was about 12, I remember waking up in a camper bed when I was sick. My father's hand was stimulating my clitoris. I froze and he appologised and said he thought I was my mom. I dont remember much other than that and constant physical and mental abuse. He would taunt me about getting fat like my older sister.I developed Bulimia at 12.
After that I allowed men I dated to use and abuse me. I became a stripper at age 18, and was raped twice in 8 years. I took drugs for many years. Was taking heroine and meth for a couple years. I got 100% clean when I became pregnant and never touched drugs again. I have two sons, it has been 10 years clean from drugs, but I do drink. I have survived 2 abusive relationships since having kids. The last one I barely excaped with my life. I allowed him to control me like a sex slave/whore (never infront of kids) He had me on survalence 24/7 video in my home and was physically violent. I left after he pointed a gun at me. I dont know how to heal from my past. I have the most amazing kids and new boyfriend and I am trying to have a "normal" life but my PTSD is triggered by so much. I hit my head on walls and black out. I want to stop.
@friendlyPine9038
I'm so sorry that so much has happened to you. You never deserved it and I hope that you know that you are a precious person, and so strong and brave. You are loved by many people.
If I were you I would seek professional help to help unpack so much trauma. PTSD is a hard thing to overcome on your own and the fact that you are even doing okay is amazing and a testament to your bravery. I know it seems daunting and expensive to seek therapy, but if you can find a full time job that offers benefits, they usually will cover your counselling with may be some slight copays.
You deserve to heal and to heal you need to stop identifying with your trauma and realize that yes, you survived and yes, it happened, but that is not the beginning and end of all that you are.
I hope you find the help you deserve
OK, so I came here to see what you guys thought, maybe you can give me insight.... So since around when I was 9-10 my mom and my grandma would fight A LOT. Recently they have been fighting with me more, especially my mom. She has cancer, and she also had a pre mature baby 8 months ago (my brother). She's been suffering from post partom depression and she's had bipolar disorder her whole life (that's just insight on maybe why she does it). She's pinned me against walls, spat in my face, thrown things at me, have told me that I'm useless, to go live with my father (I live with my mom and grandma only), and said countless tens that she wishes I wasn't here. My grandma on the other hand, she's just a DREEEAAAMM not. She has also thrown stuff at me, more heavy stuff, has hit me with a broom, and told me she wishes I would leave. Does this count as abuse? Mental and Physical? I'm only 13.
@feelingsunmutual108
Yes this counts as abuse. There is never a time when this behavior is okay. Her having a mental illnesses or her going through a rough time are not an excuse for her to act this way towards you. Sometimes people get angry and frustrated, but that doesn't mean that it is okay for them to put their hands on you or spit in your face. Just because they are adults or your parents doesn't make it okay. You are a person too, and you deserve as much respect as anyone. You feel everything they feel, and you don't think it's okay to spit on babies or hit animals with brooms. Why should it be okay for them to do it? I would talk to a trusted adult, such as a teacher or a youth group leader or a neighbor. Maybe talk to your friends so they know what's going on and can offer you support in times when things get scary or you feel especially sad. Keep in your heart that this isn't normal and that you deserve to be loved and cared for, and just because they aren't doing it doesn't mean that someone wont. Take care of yourself and trust your gut. Everything is going to be okay.
When I was about 9, I got Facebook because I was bullied a lot in school and didnt have any friends, so I tried to make friends online. So I met this older man who wanted to be friends and seemed very genuine to my innocent mind. But as our friendship continued over the years, he started to ask me more things. More personal questions. Then those questions started to turn sexual, which made me uncomfortable but I was just discovering my sexuality and he made it seem like I shouldnt be uncomfortable. He was grooming me for child prostitution as it turns out and had every intention of kidnapping me. He also manipulated me into giving him child pornography of myself. When I became sexually active, his interest really peaked. I lost my virginity at 13, and he encouraged me to delve deeper than I maybe should have into my sexuality very quickly and he wanted all the details of it, and to meet me in person to experience those things for himself. He knew my parents and had been watching me and keeping his identity hidden. It went on for 4 years or so before my parents looked through my phone and found out. When they found out, we went to the police, and the police didnt really do much except take my phone. And my parents cut me off from the outside world and my first boyfriend dumped me. I had no friends, no boyfriend and no family that would talk to me. Then when I was 14, I met a guy 5 years older than me, and we started a relationship. He was schizophrenic but I didnt know that at the time, and he was just starting to show signs when we began our relationship. As our relationship progressed it became more apparent. And with his delusions and hallucinations starting, he started to abuse me, any way you can think of. As they got worse and worse, so did his abuse. Eventually I got out, but he proceeded to try and contact me for years and sometimes I would give in and make contact, which was always a mistake. I thought the abuse was completely intertwined with his schizophrenia and if he could just get a handle on that, maybe we could start again. There was various instances of sexual assault, too many to describe, by various different people after that. And I live in a small, judgemental town which labelled me as a whore and a liar.
Then I got into my current relationship when I was 17. My parents had just kicked me out of the house for smoking, so I was homeless, I had just had a breakup, and I had just started using cocaine. He also used cocaine and thats how we became friends. He broke his hand, and i went to the hospital to wait with him and hold his hand, and then came back to his house to take care of him while his hand got better and that gave me a place to stay. We bonded quickly. Especially when my cousin committed suicide. He was my rock. But one day, things started to change. Hed drink too much and it started with yelling and name calling. And destruction of things around him. Hitting his car. Threatening to drive off the road to kill us both. Im not sure when he started getting physically abusive. He would do anything to scare me the most. There was a lot of things, probably too many to go into on here, its super long-winded already. But one day,when the police were called, his family wasnt home, and things took a turn. I ran out of the house with a tank top and shorts on in the middle of winter, with no shoes and no phone. I hid in the forest until I almost froze, barely made it back to the house. I only remember bits and pieces. But he scared me enough that I knew I needed to get out, I texted a friend to try and get a ride, because he lived an hour and a half drive away from town, but my friend called the police. So thats the framework of my story. #metoo haha
This may be triggering to some people:
My name is Kara. I wanted to share my story with others in similar situations, so here I go. Every since birth my parents have been abusive. I have vivid memories of it all as far back as when I was five. My mom, she was dysfunctional. She had cancer, and suffered from brain tumors. In my early years, she would yell and cry and scream at me. Smash dishes and lock me in the basement. Her memory was terrible, sometimes she'd forget me there for days. As I grew up, the basemen became Hell, and still to this day is. It was cold down there, and usually covered in blood. My mom would force me to clean it daily. I used to believe monsters lived down in the basement, my imagination would scare me the most when I was down there. My mom eventually passed away from the cancer, leaving me alone with my dad. I have a strange relationship with my dad, on one hand he beats me daily, and does other unthinkable things, but for some reason I never want to leave him. In fact, the abuse seemed normal until I came on 7cups and realized there is so much more that I was missing out on. Im still with my dad, and though I've been getting help for other mental issues, I don't think I'd ever be able to leave. I can understand now though how badly damaged the abuse has made me. From getting blackouts and changing personas, to wanting to hurt others and my friends, it's been a living nightmare.
If your suffering from abuse, you are not alone 💖💖💖
I'm not sure of it, but I needed to know if someone shared this opinion, too. I need to know if I'm going crazy: am I overreacting? Am I blaming my father for things every man does, every parent does? Is his behavior normal? Am I missing something obvious that everyone else sees? Is there something I misunderstand about the situation?
Because from my point of view, nothing about him is normal. I just guess I was trying to hide it from myself, how strange his eyes glint, how he makes faces that become the stuff of nightmares. How -- how scary he is most of the times. I'm serious, I've been scared of my dad for most of my life. I always want to hide when he comes in a room. Whenever he tells us he has a meeting and won't be at dinner, I start jumping from joy, I feel so relieved, and sometimes, I almost wish he didn't come back. dinner with my sister and my mom -- us three, alone, without him -- is always better and less stressful. I mean, it isn't the same for her. And it really isn't much better at all -- when dad isn't here, we yell at Mom, we criticize her. We can't get along; she's always doing something wrong, and her mistakes "annoy us". She's "insulting us" when she says something wrong. When she's angry, she's "being crazy", and "being stern". That, or her anger is an insult, and we get even more mad at her until she stops being angry and apologizes. This is basically a reenactment of how our father acts around her: we're treating her like garbage.
@floofthepoof
And it doesn't stop there. Everytime Mom speaks, it's like what she says doesn't matter. We interrupt her, roll our eyes -- she's constantly being criticized. I used to think me and my sister were the kids, so we were lower in the hierarchy, but I think she's at the lowest. Everything is always her fault: she's angry, crazy, she's unfair, she yells at us for no reason, she always finds something to be mad about, she's never happy with us and she always has a rude comment to say... And I don't need to explain that this is classic mirroring: whatever imaginary things we feel our mother does is just a misplaced bit of anger about our father. You just have to see how conflicting our feelings about her are: she's imultaneously the best person in the family, the one you always light up when she enters, and you want to tell her your day, and you want to spend time with her. Whenever she enters a room, everything is better; nobody talks at the dinner table unless she's here. We start being alive and chatty when she arrives; we tell her about our day, our friends, we vent, we recall. She's the everything, she does everything: she cleans, she works, she takes care of the kids, of the guests, of the puppy, she does his training and his food, and she's the one investing time ans money into making activities and discovering new things to do. She's the one always striving to make things better.
So, despite all that... We treat her like crap.
@floofthepoof
We find it appropriate to roll our eyes at her, and tell her she's entirely wrong; we find it okay that we can get upset at her, and yell at her, or talk to her in angry words. When she's wrong about something, it's somehow absolutely absurd, and we laugh; when she's disagreeing, it's an insult, and we can yell at her and tell her how her opinion is making us feel hurt and make her feel guilty for not liking that one TV show we like. We can tell her how her smallest disagreements are somehow causing us pain, and striking us, personnally, deeply -- and whenever she talks, her opinion doesn't matter, like, at all. Because whatever she says, anyone else in the family knows better, by default. You always need to validate what she says; even if you agree with what she says, you NEED to reaffirm that it's right BECAUSE you said so, BECAUSE you already explained it, or BECAUSE you agree, too.
We feel entitled to throw fits about the most ridiculous things -- yesterday, for wanting to eat the first donuts of a bag together, but she hadn't heard and are hers first --, we're entitled to her guilt.
@floofthepoof
Yesterday, after she ate her donut, my sister only whined, and made googly eyes. She didn't dare say a word, but made a vague gesture. And my mother misinterpreted it -- which was fine!! I mean, the gesture was a really confusing one. And mistake happen! -- and she ate the donut. My sister just stared wildly. Then she looked at my mother with those big, angry eyes. Willing her to feel guilty. And the look in her eyes made me realize -- that look of hurt, of ridiculously deep insult, of blaming her for the thing happening -- it made me realize. This wasn't about the donut. Nobody does that for a donut. We're all adults in the house. I realized yesterday that this was about abuse. This donut -- simple donut -- just seemed like a catalyst to something bigger.
Remember how she didn't say a word? My father was in the room, she felt afraid of making fun plans for the donut. She tried to get Mom to stop -- didn't understand it. And my sister glares and looks pitiful, wishing for guilt, until she apologized -- but it wasn't enough, she wanted GUILT. She felt WRONGED. She wasn't satisfied with my mother's apology. She wanted something bigger. She kept glaring throughout dinner.
@floofthepoof
She kept glaring at Mom, even long after we ate the donuts like she had the idea to: taking the first bite of our donut in unison. And even during that, when Mom had a mouthful of donut -- she screamed at Mom to not swallow it. Like, shreaked. She shut herself up quickly, but did it twice anyways. And she would get this scolding tone, this menace -- she would wave her hands and glare at her in this silent "don't you dare swallow, you don't want to know what I'll do when I'm angry". And if someone gave an alternative, or whatever else -- she wasn't happy, it didn't matter. She would sigh, say "yeah, whatever" or "no, it's fine", and -- I don't know if she realized how she threw a silent tantrum over a donut, but I did, and it felt really weird to witness that. Like, I understand that we're all really sensible and on edge with our father around. But that's no way to be acting. In this family, we've all learned to treat Mom so horribly. She "can't do anything right". And when she tries to do anything -- it's never good enough, we always have something better to add. Or we just yell at her for having feelings.
@floofthepoof
Explaining a thing from last post: my sister yelled at Mom twice for not swallowing the note of donut she had eaten before the rest of us. She yelled at her to wait until we were all in position. And she just seemed so angry, my sister, with her eyes. And she talked in a disappointed tone about how she wanted to eat the donuts together, and looking at Mom in sadness but also trying to see if she would geel guilty, waiting for her to cower at her feet crying for forgiveness. When that didn't come, my sister looked shocked, like, this white, blank face of shock. Waiting for something she was so sure would happen, she was looking like "what are you doing, where's my guilt at?". Then she cast glances at her.
As my sister got Mom's attention as shr was eating her donut -- by glaring at her and making sad eyes, going "I wanted to do something, you didn't want to do it. You wronged me." In her head by the attitude she was having, making her those accusing eyes just because she ate a donut like she had said she had been wishing to since we bought them-- Mom realized that she had had a plan. And when she said one or two sentences about how she was sorry, but didn't seem crestfallen, my sister looked angrier. She probably felt invalidated, because, in her eyes, Mom was the one who had eaten the donut, she had wronged my sister, she should be the one we talk about, and not about how my sister had a plan. THAT was the important part.
@floofthepoof
This might sound dumb, and it probably is. But it's the kind of thing that happens regularly. Now that I've pinpointed yesterday's events, I can see how often this has happened in my life. How someone can guilt-trip mom for not going along with some random plan they just made -- or, for "knowing" about the plan, and "maliciously" not going along with it, and "ruining their night", or their good time. It's somehow always Mom's fault when it happens.
Now that I think about it, I'm feeling absolutely horrible about it. If Mom ever reads these, I just hope she's in a better place where people treat her like the queen she is. Because we have absolutely no business mistreating her -- it shouldn't have become normal. It's on us, not on her. If you read this, Mom, I'm sorry for all the times I yelled at you in the car, and all the times I yanked you around to tell you what I wanted to do and you better play with me or I would annoy you until you did. I'm sorry for not standing up for you, and for expecting you to cater to our every need like you were a slave.
@floofthepoof
I guess I'm talking about this and focusing the story on my mother's treatment, but the story goes way deeper. He abandoned his two first kids when he divorced his first wife (I have two testimonies that he never sent them any money at all). Mom swears he battled for custody, and cried in the court. She tells stories of how the judge laughed at him by saying he was capable of taking his tears since he was an actor. She'll say his first wife wanted to keep the kids "for herself", and that he had to battle hard to only gain part-time custody of his little girl on the weekends. She says when they would go over to pick her up, she would be yelling with her mother, arguing loudly and throwing clothes and objects over the floor, as proof of how "awful and witchy" the first wife was; compared to how "quiet and well-behaved" the kid was when she was with them. My big sister, however, said that she hadn't wanted anything to do with our father, and that she hated him for separating the two siblings by only taking her, protesting her mother had never wanted that, and it was creepy of him. After he'd left them to go live on the other side of the island of Montreal (read: so far away), sent no money, and never called, she wanted nothing more to do with him. she's way older than us, and she now has two 5-to-10 kids of her own, and she's a part of the family, as is our brother, but she'll still tell me the story with tears.
@floofthepoof
After leaving his first wife, my father became a college professor, and met his second wife there: Linda, whose name is mud in the family. We call her "la folle", and I never learned her name until earlier this year. They say she did horrible things, and the way we talk of her, you'd believe she murdered someone. But no -- this woman cheated on him, and also, she sat between Dad and his daughter during movie time. Oh, but let me tell you how they met, it fets so much worse.
She was nineteen.
She was nineteen. My father was her theater arts teacher -- he was already 38 by that time. They got married for three years, then broke it up -- apparently, my father had a "bulle au cerveau" (according to my big sister), or "she manipulated him, he was vulnerable and she saw him as prey" (according to mom). Because somehow, it's a very believable thing that a freaking teenager can be the bag guy when literally EVERYTHING in this dynamic points to him being the one in power. He was older, more experienced in sex and relationships, he was bigger and bulkier (he played hockey), he was her freaking TEACHER for crap's sake. But nooo, apparently SHE'S an evil witch who does nothing but hurt. Because she's got so much power.
Now let me tell you what happened: she "cheated". He saw her... Writing a letter? Apparently, he also caught her. I have no idea. He "bravely" chose to stay with her because she was pregnant, but...
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Either he learned the kid wasn't his and stormed out, or they stayed together until he "caught her" sending a letter to the guy she had been with, showing him pictures of the kid or telling him she was pregnant or whatever the heck. But he eventually left her --at, what, 22 years old?-- with no money, no nothing. He just left and never called. Apparently, he "had loved the kid", and it was "heartbreaking", but "he just couldn't care for the kid anymore". My mom will say it was a moral decision or something -- like the kid was dirty. Her and Linda agree that he had "loved the kid" and "cared for him, been an amazing father" for him. Then stories don't match. Linda will say he used to beat her when he was drunk, and she had to watch out. She will say he was a total jerks for abandoning his kids, that it was a horrible thing to do. She told me he sent no money to them at all, he just took off like that. She expressed concern for the kids, and told me she hoped they were doing good. She had liked them. Oh, and Linda works in an organisation against cancer. And she sounded -- so nice? I mean, I was biased. I had expected her to be crazy, manipulative, dismissive, and really overall a bad person to talk to... But no. She was -- so nice? Complete stranger asks her personal questions about an ex -- she answered?!! She was wary, I told her I was his kid and I had started to worry he had been a jerk to her. Then she just answered my questions.
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We didn't talk more afterwards. I felt strange, because I had brought up the tipic wirh my mother. I had naively thought she didn't know Linda was 19 (oh, Linda told me she was actually 18 when they met. Can you believe it?) , and would be outraged. But no, she knew. She freaking KNEW. I mean, my mother was 24-25 when they met. And she was (also) his student in theater arts. Look at the wonderful pattern I sense here. Isn't that just amazing and absolutely NOT sketchy? And I mean -- it's disturbing? And, he only wanted his DAUGHTER to live with him, for crying out loud. Not saying he's a pedophile, but... Well, he likes young women, at least. Which is the same thing, basically, but -- whatever.
So -- big red flag -- they met while my mom was in a relationship with an abusive ex. (He was actually abusive, dude's a douche). And Mr "I hate cheating, it left a mark on me, this is why I get jealous when you become friends with men", what does he do? He flirts with her, goes on a date with her. They have sex together. That week, she breaks up with her boyfriend, goes with him, they live together. They LIVE together. They had had sex ONCE, they'd known each other for like, a few months? They'd only flirted, talked together and whatever the crap not, but -- living together is such a big step.
So, okay, big red flag here. Let's pass. So they live together, it's so magical and perfect and whatever -- he cooks well, she cries, she's grateful.
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Then Linda appears one day at Mom's workplace. She introduces herself, tells her that she knows Dad. Says he's dangerous, she should stay away from him. Says he used to beat her. Mom doesn't believe it, and even today, she'll say Linda was trying to discourage Mom from dating him, because she was jealous, and she wanted to break them up, because she hated my father for leaving her and wanted to ger back at him and sabotage his happiness.
So Mom doesn't believe it, she tells Linda to buzz off, Linda gets irritated and tells her that she might believe her more when her body is covered in bruises, too. Tells her something like, call me, or whatever. I find this really freaking touching, and kind, from Linda's part. Going out of her way to warn mom. Going back a second time -- Linda barged in their house, demanded to see where Mom was. Where he was keeping her or something. Demanded to know if she was okay. Mom was eating spaghetti or smt in the kitchen, they were mid-meal. Linda does whatever (can't remember, I think she was asking if Mom was okay or smt, or maybe yelling about how Dad has abandoned her kid when she needed help or something.) Then dad threatens to call the police on her, Linda takes their phonebook and leaves with it. I guess she wanted to ask their contacts about it or smt. I don't know.
Apparently, Linda used to call Dad, get the kid on the phone, make him ask "where's dad". She'd say "he doesn't love you anymore".
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So now, this sounds like complete horsecrap, but apparently, Mom witnessed that firsthand. She says Linda called at any hour of the day, trying to manipulate him into going back with her. Guilt-tripping him by using the kid he 'loved so much' as a tool. And he didn't want to answer, and apparently, he cried all the time or whatever. Which -- my dad almost never cries. and sure, he might have changed, but -- I dunno. It sounds really fake.
But yeah. And Mom -- red flag -- learned all the stories of how wicked and bad his old wife was, and she wanted to prove she was better, and not like her. She hated Linda with all her heart. And she also hated his first wife, too -- she told me the first wife always had "a bad comment, a side glance, a little "hmpf" of disdain". She said she was quiet, but disdainful. Mom talks of the first wife, saying she's a bad mother, and she turned the kids against Dad, because she told them all sorts of little lie that they believed. She says that Dad isn't manipulative, because "he's so loud and intense when he's mad that you know he's angry, you take it with a grain of salt". Which is -- concerning. But yeah -- she says that his ex was so much worse, because her kind of anger was subtle and she could say something angry without appearing angry. So it passed.
So -- yeah. I think that's about it.
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So apparently, what? It's toxic to be angry without yelling, and it's kind and heroic to start screaming and throwing things around?
So, I have lots of red flags in my own life, too. I only had them, which sort of made things worse when I wanted to talk to DPJ (helpline) about it. They wanted facts, I only had gut feelings and red flags. But well, here we go anyways. I remember having an innate disdain for my father -- not snobbish disdain, but the sort you get when you look at pictures of murderers, or at a bully, and you just KNOW there's something wrong in their face that makes you want to run away and barf and yell. So my dad, it's the same. And I never realized that until I observed what things I thinks are gross. Nails that curve, and have a distinct entrance point in the skin? Gross. Long but large fingers, smooth to the eye, getting smaller as they reach the nail? Gross. Men with toned, strong arms, a bully physique, but a round, hard ball of fat on the stomach? Gross. Men with round heads and no defined jawline? Oh help me. And also, I hate the smell of tea on the breath ( guess what, he always drinks tea. Literally always. Probably as a coping mechanism for his late alcoholic tendencies that he stopped after an order from the doctor or whatever). People having thin lips? A very pointed head with no chin? Feet with long, badly trimmed nails, and deformed from always wearing those heavy shoes that stomp all the time? Creepy.
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Guess who I never trust? School principals. Guess what kind of people I somehow innately dislike, and who always turn out to be douchebags with no compassion, or who give me a constant creepy vibe? His friends. Guess what I innately find to be the meeting spot for entitled douchebags? Politics. The punchline is obvious, because all of this is a description of my father.
I have lots of other flags. Such as: I used to be really afraid and go into danger mode when we looked at old videos when we were babies. I always has such a terrifying feeling whenever I looked at them. I was just so scared of this house, and the ambiance always felt so freaking creepy. Also -- one of my recurring fantasies in writing is a character running away. Literally every single one of my childhood writings involve a character running away from home. And the ones from when I was a toddler (she would fold two pieces of paper, staple them, and give it to me. I would do drawings, and mom would write the story I narrated her on little text lines I wrote on the flipside.), Those ones were fantasy escape stories. If I was writing an original fanfiction of say a movie (or Rudolph the reindeer), they had no father. Rudolph lived alone with his mother; my very own OC, the Cat who wanted to Race, she had only a mother. Even after hitting teenagehood, whenever I wrote families, I would hit a wall with the father.
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I was trying to make him likable for when my parents read the story, so I would need to change some aspects of him, but at the same time... Well, I really didn't want any father in the picture. Speaking of which, whenever I wrote a fatherlike character, I was always uncomfortable about it. And on another note, I had this thing with writing sibling characters where I knew I should write one, because I had one and it was fun to have a sibling apparently, but at the same time, I didn't want to put one in the story. Probably because it took the focus off of me. Or because I didn't want to think about how my actions in the book affected my family, I wanted to do my stuff and not think twice and just have fun. Which is -- a terrible thing to think about. I hate to think that this is how i see my sister -- as a burden I would rather go away. I'm still feeling about that as I speak. I wish I didn't feel this way -- it's awful in every sense of the way, and besides -- we connect well, we joke and play together. She's been my best friend, and sometimes I think about losing her and I want to cry. I think sometimes of people losing their sibling and it makes me upset -- I don't always realize how much she means to me. And it sucks -- twins should stick together, because the world is treating us like freaks. We gotta be close-knit. And we should be -- we have lots common. So what's wrong?
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I think the thing that is wrong is two things:
1-abuse can make and break families together. One day they're best friends, the other they hate each other and see the other as something to exterminate. Read this in a book about abuse (Why does he Do that? by Lundy Bancroft) and it fits. We could play together and have a moderate amount of fun (I was probably the only one having fun, and even then, it sucked. In hindsight, I liked it more when she could do what she wanted and we had fun together like real friends.) But other times, well, I wrote "she lived alone with mom". You know?
2-how we treat each other as people. I always saw her as something to be used -- a toy to play with and discard when I was done. Didn't want to think of her, didn't care about how she was feeling. I would always decide what we did in playtime, and I would yell at her to stop what she was doing at the second it it didn't fit my vision. Heck, our neighbors' kids called us both by her name, because it was the only thing they ever heard: me shouting her name in annoyance. And I kept seeing her as a rival, someone to crush down to get better. I wanted to be better than her, and if I wasn't, I would make excuses and retell the story of it so I would have an acceptable excuse or reason for why I was actually better and she wasn't. It's terrible -- I was terrible, I thought she was so awful, sometimes I even hated her. I mean -- I wanted her gone from my imaginary fantasy land!
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Lately I've been doing some hard thinking about what kind of sister I am. And what kind of frjend I am. And daughter. And altogether, I think I'm a really crappy person. I've always had a knack for making friends with the biggest (girl) bully in the class, and I would follow her around and become hopelessly in love with her. And become her "best friend" (read: victim). And when I had some rare non-toxic friends, I think it's obvious to note that I was the one abusing them. I remember two distinct times when I got mad and ignored a friend because they had brought up an issue we had with the class, and I felt ashamed that the class knew about that. So I got pissed and ignored them. One time, it was because I had grabbed her by the shoulder and shaken her during recess. I think we were playing, but I think that she had said we weren't! Not sure, we were so young. And the second time, she had asked for help about me being brash, or. Bossy? Rude? I don't even remember. And she had been SO FREAKING NICE AND KIND about it. But me, I IGNORED HER FOR THE REST OF THE RECESS. I ran away from her, ignored her cries for me to come back, passice-agressively vented to other friends. Eventually, I went back to her, when she was crying, gaslit her -- saying I wasn't mad at her but at another friend. I was feeling "bad". So I lied to sound more good, because it was the only way I thought would make me feel better.
Such a great person indeed.
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I am still convinced that I am a good person -- I say that, as in, I have convinced myself of a lie I make only to feel better, and to avoid looking into myself. I avoid looking into what pains me, and looking into what else I could do and the friendships I could actually pursue and the people I could love if only I stopped being such a douche. Like, it's a selfish and horrible thing to say that not bullying makes you feel better. It does, but -- it shouldn't even be crossing my mind. I shouldn't pursue my own happiness anymore -- I should pursue to help, and nurture, and fix what I did to my loved ones. "Loved ones" that I didn't love at all, that I hurt and broke and dismissed.
Sometimes, I manage to look at myself. I never like to look at old pictures of myself, because I look like crap. I look like the jerk I try so desperately to convince myself I am not. I see it in the way I smile, in the way my eyes are opened too wide and are just flashing with both panic and something more sinister all the time. I look like what I am, and I'm afraid of saying what I am precisely, because it feels too horrible for words. I think the thing I should say is I was an abuser -- I am one. I still am, even if I try to understand. But I can't even bring myself to connect the final dot that will make me understand what I do, and where I live and what is wrong with us.
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The thing that holds me back from being loving and a better person, I think, is my own cowardice. I'm afraid, like the selfish bastard that I am, that people I will see will shun me, and shoo me away. It's a selfish worry -- a horrible worry. I should apologize so THEY get closure. Screw me -- I've thought enough of myself to last a lifetime, it's time to be less of an entitled douchebag and think about THEM. Just THEM.
I tried to apologize for a few things this year and the last -- for ditching my sister one time when new friends asked me to eat with them. I had always gaslit her by saying I "wanted to get us new friends" by the trutg is that I literally just wanted to make myself new friends, and I didn't care. I remember her tears, and her heartbreak when she looked at me leave. I think it was the first time I realized I had actually done something that had no excuse. I handled it awfully -- I gaslit her, and tried to press her to forgive me so we could get back to normal. I apologized for real last year, at a family gathering. We were waiting alone on our table, and I told her I never should have done that. She told me she had felt abandoned, and that she felt i had dine something really crappy. I didn't like hearing it -- I felt like defending myself. I think I defended myself a bit. I think I did it less, though. I don't think she forgave me -- she wasn't ready, and honestly? It was the first time we actually talked about this in a real way.
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I think that if I talked to her about it now, she would still be bitter. Honestly, I find the notion strangely safe. As in, friends being bitter about things the other friend did, having grudges and disputes and stuff, that's how real friends act. There's something healthy about this anger that I wouldn't want to remove even if I hadn't vowed not to. It's healthy for the future, and healthy for her -- healthy for how she feels about the family, the house, the school. And healthy about how she feels about me, I suppose. It's a healthier friendship for both of us, and I think it's giving me strange hope for the future. That we can be friends for real. I miss her, I miss talking to her and playing with her. I realize that I've dug myself a hole by being a crappy sister to her, and I think that I should have been a good friend long ago. I still am talking about my own feelings, again, and I have no excuse other than I thought it was a good time to say it. Which I probably am mistaken about. I guess most of this is about being a better friend, and not losing my sister. After losing most of my friends due to them being bullies, and lots of other stuff, I guess I realized I don't want to be alone anymore, and I want friends. I don't want to be "perfect", or "on top", and I don't want to crush them or win over them. I just... I guess I feel lonely.
This part of the essay is pretty creepy, it sounds like the whole point of this was to sound better. Which it is
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I'm writing this because I want support. I want people to listen. It's perhaps not a bad thing itself, by coming from me, from this person with this subtext -- it's creepy, and wrong. It sounds like I just want more people to worship me. I know it is -- I think I do want people to admire me endlessly. I wish I didn't, but I do. And I wish I didn't because people will say it's wrong. I just hope y'all see this post and see the red flags, and run away from me.
I'm considering some reason to force myself to be less narcissistic, but all the reasons I find are reasons that won't hurt my delicate self-esteem, aka not confronting my faults and my horrible deeds. I'm aware of it, and I think that in some extent, I would do basically anything to get people to approve of me, and love me unconditionally. I used to want to be a perfect girl, with long hair, pale skin, white teeth, food grades, and all the crap. And now that I realize that "perfection" is not simple, I try to find the "best people" and get them to like me. I can say anything at all that nught make me sound better or at least funny -- but God forbid if it makes me rethink my life and feel bad. I suck and I wish I could confront myself. I didn't want to do it on the internet because "people would know and it would ruin my reputation". But I will, right now.
I'm doing this whole thing just becaue I want people to love me. Right now, I tell you guys this because I know people love a good old humble abuser recovering, or maybe they love an abuser who seems soft enough and helps them cope with the abused in their lives and see them as less threatening people. I try to manipulate my way out of guilting myself. I use fancy words to make it sound like I'm aware of the bad things I assume you will tell me I did. I think I'm entitled to people's lives. Right now, I'm putting so much effort in my writing to sound like I'm sure of myself so people don't see the cracks and the insecurities, and the lacks of knowledge, and how I feel vulnerable and afraid underneath. I don't want them to know that. I'm also so ashamed right now of how I managed to write an entire paragraph about my faults that I apologize in-text to calm the people who would get angry at it, and I also use big words of indignation on myself to sound like I'm already scolding myself so you don't do it because that's worse. Sometime, I put biscuits in milk and watch them become dust. I'm not perfect, but I try to be. Right now, I hate my insecurities, I hate how stupidly human I sound, I sound like anyone, I sound -- insecure, and broken, and i sound limited, I don't know anything, I have nothing special. I hate that I don't like it, because it's supposed to be a good, cool, strong thing to be strong and human and broken, but I don't like it.
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I hate that I apologize on-screen or say how guilty I feel so "I will lay off my own back". I feel guilty, I feel abd, and horrible. I feel like a terrible person: someone whose picture I wouldn't like, someone whose presence wouldn't be appreciated. I hate that side of me -- I hate who I am, I hate to see that I'm me. I don't want to see that I'm me, I want to be someone else, and if that fails, I want the accusations I put against myself to be false. And sometimes, I do either of those things: I pretend I was actually talking about my sister, or my mother, in those words: or I say that I'm actually a good person for writing something so genuine or whatever the crap I did that didn't make a small difference in how I treated my sister. I'm trying to become closer to my sister so I can forget those mistakes and shoo them away. So I can distance myself from them, and pretend I'm not that person anymore.
I just wish I wasn't like that at all. I want to run away, make noise, and forget. I want to deny that part of me -- deny my mother, deny I live with her. As thought she had passed that on to me. I'm an idiot. And now that I've calmed a bit, I'll start to "take control" of my emotions. I don't want to. I want to breathe true air, and look at the real things. I don't want to abuse anymore. I won't be strong, or perfect, or a leader. I won't be motherly, or anything like that. It saddens me, and that's good.
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I go, I don't want to think about this anymore. Is there eany way to feel like this without shame, without sadness? Can I feel like this without the pain, or can I go away? But there isn't a way. I really wish there was, still, there is no way I will get this done if I don't look at it in the eye and admit my abuse. I want to find a way to feel better soon, for this to be easy and simple and easily done. I want this to end like movies with fiestas and food and stuff. It won't.
@floofthepoof One last thing: I've always thought of abused safe spaces as somewhere I should go, but I just thought that this isn't my place to be. This is not somewhere I should be. I'm an abuser, my place is elsewhere. I will make people uncomfortable, and deny their abuse, most likely. I will also strip them of their safe space, and their voice. This is a place for victims of abuse, and I have no right for being here. I'm going to take down this post as soon as I can. It has no business being here, and I apologize for taking your space like this.
@floofthepoof I'm a survivor it all started with my grandfather. It's harder to talk about this than when I was raped by a guy who wasn't family. I can talk about that all day but this....its too hard I'm trying but it just puts me in a funk...i guess that's good enough
