Abuse

Hi everyone 👋 I’m new here.I go by SpicyWitch38417 (because honestly… that’s my whole vibe right now 😆🔥🖤).
I’m 46, healing from years of emotional abuse, gaslighting, and long-term trauma (both from an ex-husband and family dynamics... including a strained relationship with my daughter that I’m trying to navigate now).
I’ve recently learned I likely have C-PTSD and ADHD, plus I’m rolling through perimenopause like a damn warrior.Some days I’m full of fire and hope.Other days… full of tears, brain fog, and wondering how I’m going to keep showing up for work and life.
I’m working hard on boundaries, nervous system regulation, and inner child healing. I journal, I walk my dog (Riggs 🐾), I’m reading How to Do the Work by The Holistic Psychologist, and I’m slowly learning that I don’t have to stay stuck in survival mode. I've started my TikTok to claim our small but mighty daily wins. We're all just trying to survive.
If you’re here doing the work too… I see you. ❤️Let’s root for each other.

#MightyTogether

I'm so hurting right now.

My mother keeps denying the physical abuse that my father did to me. He was violent to all of us, I was the most abused child. She keeps saying that I was starting it and disrespecting him.

I don't know why it hurts so much. I know she's bad and all but that hurts.

I have no tears to cry, I'm scared to have a panic attack because the nurses will come and I want to stay alone.

It is too much for me right now...

I already have too much on my plate.

(If you don't really understand you can check my "My reality" and "Journey" posts)

#MentalHealth #Anxiety #Depression #PanicAttacks #PanicAttack #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder

I used to watch the birds. My grandma loved birds and I watched them with her, not because I loved them but because she did. I used to watch her. I looked up to her with my whole small being. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Not just because of the way she appeared but because of the grace she carried. I witnessed the abuse that life threw at her, even abuse from the people who were supposed to love her the most. Yet she stood tall and unshaken. I never saw her cry once. Although I could still see the pain behind her eyes even at such a young age I could feel it. I think she watched me like she watched the birds. She loved who I was and who I was yet to become. I hope she is watching me like I used to watch her. Birds are free and I hope she is now too.

I used to watch the birds. My grandma loved them, and I think that’s why I watched them too—not because I loved them, but because she did. I used to watch her. I looked up to her with my whole small being. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen—not just because of the way she looked, but because of the grace she carried. I witnessed the abuse life threw at her, even abuse from the people who were supposed to love her most. Yet, she stood tall and unshaken. She was gentle and kind, fair although life wasn’t. I never saw her cry, but even as a child, I could still see the pain behind her eyes. I felt it. I think she felt mine too. She saw right through me, and she’s the only one who ever could. She never judged; she just felt.

Now that I’m grown, I realize I’m just like her. She never tried to hurt anyone because she knew what it felt like. I stood up for her as a child, and she did the same for me. We saw one another, and that love is irreplaceable.

Watching her take her last breath is something I will never forget. It was too soon, and there was so much more for us to experience together. I feel cheated out of time with her—the one person who understood me and loved me for every good and awful piece of me. I only hope to be half as graceful as she was. I’ve felt so much loss in my life, but the loss of her is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept or understand.

I think she watched me the way she watched the birds. She loved who I was and who I was yet to become. I hope she’s watching me now, just like I used to watch her. Birds fly free, and I hope she is free now too.

I’m almost 26 now. It’s Mother’s Day today, and I never know how to feel on this “holiday.” My grandma died today, which only adds to the confusion I never fail to feel. I am a complete outcast in my family—not because I want to be or choose to be, but because they will never understand me. Not because they couldn’t try to, but because they don’t want to.

I have this hate inside me for every single one of them. It’s the most confusing feeling in the world. I want them to love me and see me, but they just don’t want to. Even when they say they do, it’s all pretend. They tell me I’m not alone, but I am.

When I lost Nana, I lost the one person who loved me—who really loved me. Everything always comes back to her. Every time someone lets me down—including myself—I always think of her, of what she would say to make it “better,” to make it make sense. I miss her on this day. I miss her everyday.

My own mother hated me. I don’t know if she ever loved me. Maybe there was a time when she did—when I was a baby and didn’t have a mind of my own, when I was just a thing to fill her loneliness. Once I wanted a life of my own, I became worthless. I was selfish and self-centered. It was “fuck me” for wanting a normal life—for wanting friends, a family, a home.

She was right about one thing, though: that my family would never love or care about me the way I needed them to.

Somehow, I always end up excusing her behavior… her abuse. I was a child. She permanently stunted who I could have been. She made me into her punching bag—and then she died. She got the easy way out. She created me, abused me, and left me. Maybe her mental illness was to blame, but that doesn’t change what she did.

I’m so sick of feeling guilty for how I acted as a child. I’m constantly embarrassed. Why am I the one who keeps taking the blame for the abuse I suffered?

The person I became in the summer of 2024 is who I am most ashamed of. I became hateful. I became an alcoholic. I became a cheater. I became someone who projected their hurt—and I will never let myself get that bad again. I became my abuser, and I hate that I allowed that. I hate that it was within me.

Well… I didn’t think this was going to happen.

I sometimes talk about the grief I have from going no contact from almost everyone from my pastz I had a very wide circle, and unhealthy best friends and toxic family members, surviving dv and homelessness- it just didn’t work that I felt comfortable knowing what I ended up knowing later. Specifically it has been hard to not be an aunt. I went no contact with my sister who was my first abuser. It was while the children were minors. I didn’t know what would happen but my sister was making my cptsd harder to manage after it being triggered by dv. I can feel it in my nervous system when “vibes are off”- someone please tell me this isn’t in my mind because the logical side of me is like- what do you mean???
Anyways very tangential- so my niece got mad at me when I was displaced to Cleveland for an unknown period of time and didn’t tell her. Now at that period of time I was no contact with my sister and really weird contact with other family members, I was still unhoused planning to go back to Dayton- and didn’t want that information passed along. I understood her point and told her that it wasn’t a conversation I could have (or something) and I am so so so sorry. I validated her feelings.
So yesterday I got a message from my niece on IG. She had unfollowed me- I refused to block her. She is still young and hasn’t done anything out of the range of normal for her development and knowledge of the situation. I am so happy! Although I was very sad that she grew tired of my sister’s abuse. I am not sure she knows that’s what it is yet. She moved out and lives with her boyfriend. She is over 2 hours away and I remember that liberty when I moved further from reach of my family. She told me she is “no contact” with everyone but my mom and my mom’s husband. I don’t know what she had heard about me, or what she believes about me. My sister’s abuse became worse when I became disabled even though we live hundred of miles apart and never asked her for anything.
I am worried about my niece though. She seems lonely. I hope when she starts working she gets some social time. I’m trying not to be the overexcited aunt who fell out of the family- but here I am.
#Agoraphobia #PanicDisorder #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #ADHD #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine #AutonomicDysfunction #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome

Hi, my name is Kissie. I'm here because
I have never healed from child hood abuse and rape when I was 9#MightyTogether #PTSD

Hi, my name is Hana. I'm here because I really need help because I feel so lost and locked in my past I'm 20 yo and I couldn't forget the verbal and physical abuse i suffered they lingering in my soul thus isolated myself from world the only place I can go to is university I don't have friends , I feel strange in my house however I have good look ,personality also I'm excellent student but still can't make relationships or deal with the real world

#MightyTogether

Hi, my name is FTMKitty710. I'm here because I want to share my story without being the center of attention. I just need it out there to warn people of family abuse.

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #Depression #Migraine #Fibromyalgia #PTSD #ADHD #MultipleSclerosis #EatingDisorder #OCD #Grief #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Hyperparathyroidism

I'm in therapy with an amazing therapist and she recommended a book that I am actually terrified of, but that is only because every time I read a chapter, I remember something new. I am 47yo and finally remembering details to a 6month long ongoing SA that happened when I was 5. I hadn't even remembered it happened to me until I was 17, no facts. Just night terrors that tore my mattress off the bed and woke my house with my screaming. I'd wake up with no memory of what I dremt. 30 years later, I still have night terrors I don't remember, but memories do remember when I reading this book. It's called The Courage to Heal and it has a work book as well.

I heartily recommend it for anyone healing from any kind of childhood abuse. It will make you cry, the big ugly sobs, that from a distance people can't tell if you're laughing or crying from your shoulders (my daughter couldn't). But it helps.

I am healing, finally, #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder

As I'm recovering from my eating disorder (I'm in an ED program fights now) I'm coming to realize that so much of the disorder was propagated by the men who abused me. I've all forgiven them, of course, and I've safely left them. But I admit, sometimes their words hurt me still. For a long time, their words were part of the reason I was starving myself. It was like another brick in the wall stacked high by the harms of rampant diet culture, a society that hates and polices women's bodies, and abuse. As I'm recovering, I'm rediscovering a sense of empowerment. Each time I eat, it's a big middle finger to the abuse. It's a way of sauing, "You don't control me anymore." Because for so long, I starved myself in response to bullying and abuse. I'm beginning to be my advocate and realize what I will and will not tolerate anymore. I would never allow someone into my space who hurts me again.

#MentalHealth
#AnorexiaNervosa
#Anxiety
#BorderlinePersonalityDisorder
#Depression
#EatingDisorders
#Grief
#MajorDepressiveDisorder
#PTSD
#Selfharm
#Trauma
#MightyTogether
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