Abuse

Everyday feels like a struggle. I woke up late for work today and since my day has felt like shit. I painted my nails this lilac color with this glitter on top and I hate it, I thought I’d love it but I can’t change it now nor do I know if I even want to change it.
I know this is all little things that don’t really matter but it’s not really the little things. Idk what my problem is. Idk why living is so hard and the thought of what my future holds is terrifying.
What if I’m not what I want to be? What if I’m stuck at the dead end job and I repeat history like what my mom did to me?

Can I bring up something a little off topic?
I’ve been through a lot of shit and I know everyone probably says that. But god damn I feel so abnormal. My mom and dad were on drugs growing up. My dad passed away when I was 2 from a drug induced seizure on his bike. When my mom remarried it was awful my stepdad was horribly abusive not to mention our living conditons were DISGUSTING. We didn’t have access to food like my friends did, we couldn’t even do our laundry the pile was so high it touched the ceiling and I thought that was normal. My mother was for the most part absent, on drugs, locked in her bedroom everyday. She decided to lock her door after I walked in on her and my stepdad one day 👀. The reason I emphasize her absence is because my stepdad would beat my brother and she wouldn’t come out. 7 year old me would be stepping in to try and protect my 10 year old brother (ill call C) from a hulking man. So absent she didn’t realize when the neighbor boy took me into his closet. She didn’t realize my 12 year old brother (b) started molesting me, threatening to kill me if I said anything. I guess it was better that dcf stepped in. Foster care still wasn’t much better and every place I ever felt safe at in between ended up falling apart.
Guardians who stepped in when b did what he did. Guardians who’s adult son would actually harm me in the same way and get different punishment, no punishment. A family I called family who dcf thought was doing stuff to me. Though I fought to not be taken. Eventually the mother was shot and killed in a police raid. Due to c’s drug abuse and their kindness to take in young teens from broken families.
Them for me to find more family in a state away. Get adopted by my older sister (j) her husband and her daughter. It was great for a year until she got on drugs. Stopped coming home. And I moved in with my oldest sibling (k) he would later become abusive to me, physically, mentally, and sexually. He wanted to be in a relationship with me. He was 32. I was 15. Then for me to move in with my sisters (j) father. Who got me drunk one night and kissed me. Read my diary where I wrote about it and I knew he would so I wrote over what I wrote so he couldn’t read it. He still pointed it out though. He also knew what k did to me so did j. J called me a liar and said and I quote “her brother, her brother would never do anything like that”.
Backstory j and k are half siblings to each other and me b and c. But k and j grew up together. Not with me b and c. Me b and c are whole siblings same parents all round. It was like she was saying k wouldn’t do anything because he’s her brother but b would. Even though they’re both my brothers.
Idek why I’m talking about all of this. Idk what I’m trying to say or if I’ll even get a response. Idk if I’m looking for one or just to be understood and heard, nobody ever did before.
I question everyday was it me? What did I do to attract all this weirdness and craziness and that’s just a top layer of things. There’s so much more I don’t even have the time or energy to explain. Not like anybody would care though it’s just some random persons trauma dump. Idk. The world is fucked up. And I don’t know what my place is or why I’m here or if I’ll even be anything worth a life. I want to be. I desperately want to be the opposite of everything I was shown. But can I? I don’t know. The thought is the scariest part not even what I went through. The questions the never ending wait for the other shoe to drop.

I have been approached, threatened, ridiculed,gaslit, antagonized,rage baited, mocked, set up to emotionally react, to trigger, to break,by a set of older women that cross three counties and I am now seeking counsel and reporting it, to be documented and for them to be told to back off. To erase my reality, to set me u, accuse me of breaking in, accuse me of stealing, accuse me of abuse.to insinuate I hurt or threatened anyone in anyway, is emotional https://abuse.You threatened to ruin me for not staying to be your https://nurse.After you and him, used my only person https://left.I will leave but when I'm ready and get what is https://mine.When I get the money I gave https://him.Looking at numbers is one thing but what was done to me, was gross, it,is was neglect, coercion, abandoning me, financial abuse and I'm positive against the law, at this https://point.Charactor assassination is real, control is keeping me in the dark and isolation is not a choice when you're being approached everywhere anytime he has a activity or you want to grow.

I am going to share something that has changed my life forever. To some it might sound like a lie, before reading I want to add a big trigger warning for: self-harm, attempted murder, mental abuse, murder of animal, blood

On Christmas 2024 I was in Romania with family. Everyone was sleeping expect for me and my aunt. She drank that night and we were having a deep talk. She told me about her life in the past and I hugged her. I felt comfortable with sharing my scars that I had on my leg. Her reaction was so cruel I will never forget.

She started laughing and asked me if I wanted more scars. After i shook my head she said we should go out and smoke a cigarette. We went out and I saw her taking knives with her. 3 to be exact wrapped in a towel. When I saw it I went to the bathroom and texted a close friend of mine but got no answer. I went back to see her in the room where they killed a pig since that is tradition in Romania.

I would like to explain the view I had. You enter the kitchen and on your left there is a wall aready, in front of you there is a big stove from old times with a fireplace etc. On the right there is a sofa with a table next to it. Pig parts hanging on ropes like wet clothes you put out to try and instead of water dripping on the floor it was blood. There was blood everywhere. My aunt was sitting there smoking with the knives placed next to her.

She took one knife out and told me to hurt myself infront of her. After I obvs said no she pulled her pants down and started cutting herself. I was forced to watch her because otherwise she would cut herself more. The third time she cut herself she took a bigger knife and thats when I finally found my words to tell her to stop. Then she looked at me and placed the knife on her throat forcing me to kill her. She repeated herself multiple times telling me to kill her.

I left the room and she followed me outside whispering like a creep that I should talk to her because she is there for me. I told her I was going to sleep but I didnt sleep all night. Instead I was looking for numbers, websites, chats to get help somehow. In the morning I asked me sister to get me to our apartment since it took place at my grandmas place. She didnt take me and i didnt want to tell her what happend.

I couldnt eat anything that day and grandma got worried. Later that day my aunt apologised as if she didnt traumatise me forever. I told my sister and then we left. I texted my aunt and I told her that I want nothing to do with her anymore. Until this day I think about it.

My mind went crazy and I even thought about what wouldve happened if I did it. I had the chance and it could look like suicide. I am not a murderer and Im not having these kinds of thoughts anymore. Today I just hate her and I will never face or speak to her again.

I want to go back to Romania but I went there last year and got anxiety like really bad. I felt nauseous and fainted. Im afraid I can never go back there and honestly I dont think I can nor want to. The only thing I miss is the puppy we got there last year. I want to see him again because he brought me so much joy.

Is it trauma? Is it PTSD? I dont know but again it feels good being able to write this detailed and how its not affecting me as much as it used to be.
Thank you for your time reading this.

#MentalHealth #Depression #PTSD #Recovery #Anxiety #Trauma

Hi, my name is AnneL. I'm here because I am asurvivor of sexual, emotional, and mental abuse, raised in a dysfunctional home who unfortunately didn’t get help and while not continuing the sexual abuse, was neglectful, physically abusive for a period of time, and damaged my adult children, who I now see passing some of the dysfunction on. I want to learn how to help my children heal from my actions, learn how to have healthy relationships, and heal myself.

#MightyTogether #PTSD #Depression

Another post by The Self:

When I raise something calmly and you immediately say, “I guess I’m the worst person ever,” the conversation has already been hijacked.

Because now we are not talking about what happened. We are talking about how bad you feel for being told it happened.

Now I am expected to reassure you. Soften it. Take it back. Prove I do not hate you. Prove I am not attacking you. Prove I still think you are a good person. And somehow, my hurt disappears under the weight of your reaction.

That is not accountability.
That is emotional deflection.

“I can never do anything right.”

“I’ll just stop trying then.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“You sort it out yourself then.”

“I won’t bother anymore.”

“I’m a bad parent.”

Those sentences might sound like guilt, but they often function like control. They pull the focus away from the behaviour and place it back onto the person who was brave enough to name it.

So here is what I am learning to say:

“I am not calling you the worst person ever. I am naming one thing that hurt me. Please stay with that.”

“I am not asking you to collapse. I am asking you to listen.”

“This is not about you hating yourself. This is about whether you are willing to understand the impact.”

“I am not going to comfort you out of accountability.”

“If you need a break, take one. But I am not taking back what I said just because it made you uncomfortable.”

Because a boundary is not an attack.
A feeling is not cruelty.
A hard conversation is not abuse just because it requires someone to look at their behaviour.

Real repair does not sound like, “Fine, I’ll never try again.”

Real repair sounds like, “I hear you. I did not realise that hurt you. I need to sit with that. I want to do better.”

There is a difference between remorse and self-pity.

Remorse makes room for the person who was hurt.
Self-pity makes the hurt person do more emotional labour.

And I am done abandoning myself in the middle of conversations just to rescue someone from the discomfort of being accountable.

If I bring up pain and you turn it into a performance of your own suffering, I do not have to follow you there.

I can stay with the truth.
I can stay with what happened.
I can stay with myself.

Because I am not responsible for managing the shame you feel when I finally stop pretending your behaviour did not hurt me.

#emotionalmanipulation #accountability #gaslighting #emotionalabuse #toxicrelationships #toxicfamily #narcissisticabuse #cptsd #complextrauma #boundaries #selftrust #traumahealing #healingjourney #emotionalmaturity #theself