Tolerance for a Friday
Tolerance for a Friday
Being the 'bigger person' just makes you a bigger target. I'd rather be a moving target...running away in a zigzag pattern (just like when someone is shooting at you). It's harder to hit an unpredictable moving target.
Break your predictable patterns of behavior they have come to depend on and run far, far away. Getting repeatedly and unrelentingly 'stabbed' and 'shot' at will eventually lead to 'death' of one form or another. Toxic families are masters at 'Death by One Thousand Cuts'.
Confused, scared, self doubt
I don’t feel guilty about this. But part of me questions if I should. I refused to see my family today. Yesterday was the anniversary of my school shooting, so there’s a lot of emotion, but it doesn’t compare to what I’ve been living like with my mother. My mother has caused me more emotional harm and ptsd than any person I’ve known and with my life story that says a lot. She’s extremely abusive. But she has her good moments. But she drinks non stop and she even when she’s not drunk she’s manipulative, violent and disrespectful. She told me my Aunt Kathy has dimentia when I asked for her phone number, I just found out my aunt doesn’t have dementia. My aunt Betsy died a few months ago and my mom told me she fell and hit her head in the kitchen and bled a lot. I just found out that she died sitting on the floor by her bed where she use to stretch. My brother, I found out, is still taking to the person who sexually assaulted me. I feel so betrayed by this and even though my mom is the one who told me she says it has nothing to do with me. She’s thrown things like vases at me, threw me into a garage when I was younger just for standing up for my dad, she’s torn my room apart just for tripping over my closet door and chipping it. She kicked me out three days before my school was shot up (by my friend). My brother called her and I from the school. My mom and I were fighting at that moment but when he told us there were people with guns at the school her first response was to go brush her hair and get changed. My first response was to get in the car after telling her if she’s not in the car in two minutes I was leaving without her. She showed up to my graduation high on opioids and drunker than Jack Sparrow.
She refuses to help me. And today I went to get glasses, which I’ve needed for a ver a year but can’t afford, I find out she’s dropped me from insurance. So instead of paying the expected $300 which I planned to put on my credit card, they would have been nearly $1000.
I couldn’t get glasses. And that sucked. The guy suggested that I call her to ask about the insurance and without thinking I tell him “I can’t call my mom because if I say anything that isn’t about her it will make her mad. Because it’s Mother’s Day. It’s her day.”
And there I was back in my childhood where the presure of squeezing out joy from my mother on Mother’s Day was so intense it was excruciating. If you didn’t plan a few weeks ahead the gift isn’t meaningful enough, so you had to plan for something ahead of time. Stay up with brother the night before making cut out hearts, banners, cards. Enough to lead from the door to the kitchen. But don’t fall asleep because you need to get up to make her breakfast in bed.
But still. She’s be drinking by noon. She’s be passive agressive commenting on all the things that should have been done better. And then she’d get angry and demeaning. Picking apart any good feeling you had during the day. Crushing the hope that maybe the night would be different. If I did something more, if only I were better. I could have stopped this from happening. I could’ve kept my brother safe. But I disappointed her.
I can’t explain the fear I have when facing her. But if there were many good memories, why don’t I have any. If I were asked to share a good moment from my childhood I would be at a complete loss. I am starting to understand how manipulated I was in my childhood. Yet I still ask myself if I’m paranoid. Did those things really happen. Am I really as messed up as I feel or is it all in my head. Because when I needed help from my mother I’d have to beg so much I’d cry, and she’d pretend to be asleep. She kept me desperate for her help her compassion. Gave me false hope and promises just to tear them down. The lies I’ve been told. The isolation she put me through. The fear I had that if I said anything she’d be “taken away in a white coat to an insane asylum” her words. Not mine. As a 2nd grader I was told I could lose my mother if I talked about when she got upset. And everyone gets upset. And she ignored me and isolated me from expressing my own emotions and needs, even to her.
“You need to fall. I need to let you fall” she says to me three days ago while I’m telling her I’m happy with where I’m living. Because win successful. She tells me she’s not going to pay for my car insurance and cell phone anymore. She doesn’t even pay for them!!! She hates that I’m happy. She hates that she’s losing control because I have learned to set boundaries. And falling?! Don’t your think being kicked out from home, having my school shot up, being sexually assaulted, having my dad sexually assult me, losing my home again, staying on a old guy friends couch because eyes the only one who can get me out of my car, saving enough money for an apartment, having bad things happen there, losing my home AGAIN, forced to move back home but I stayed with my boyfriend most of the time, remembering and realizing my sexual assults for the first time, going into shock, then hitting a heard of elk on the way to a motel because we were kicked out of my boyfriends house, getting an apartment with him and living stabally for over a year now.
I already fell. Multiple times. And most of them. Are my mothers fault. Not just directly in some of them, but because of the power she took from me.
She still makes me question mt reality. I want to question it because I can’t really comprehend all that has happened to me in such a short time.
But my childhood. My mother. This one hurts. And I’m confused. I’m terrified. And I never know what the right thing to do is. Because in her eyes the right thing can never in favor of my my well being.
sorry if it’s long and all over the place i just wanna know if anyone feels how i do. i was sexually assaulted by my mother and her bf from 2-4. it caused severe depression very early on in my life and went untreated due to a conservative father.(he’s a diagnosed narcissist) i lived with my dad until i was 14 then moved in with my grandparents bc he was always with his gf and her family. i was always left to fend for myself food, getting to school, setting up doctors appointments basically everything except financially. i wanted him to pay attention so i started doing drugs, going to paries, having sex with random guys some who were wayyyy to old. i consented but i don’t know how to feel about it bc they were the adult in the situation and should’ve stopped it. at a party i was raped by two guys. i feel like all of this is my fault bc if i would’ve accepted that my dad wanted his other family then i wouldn’t have put myself in those environments. i tried to kms which i will never do again (i had been begging for a therapist for almost a year atp) and i was going to tell my dad everything but when i tried he wouldn’t let me talk and basically told me i was depressed because of myself. only 2 people know the entire story of why i tried to kms. it hurts because i wanted to tell him so bad but he only cared about how i made him look by trying to kms. after that i told him i didn’t want to see him anymore and all he had to say was that i was the problem every time i tried to tell him how i feel. it’s started to make me feel like i really was the problem bc after we stopped talking he seems so much happier with his new family(completely different one from when i was 14) im only 17 so i can’t take myself to the doctor even though i live on my own/provide for myself and when i try to contact him to at least call and okay for me to sign myself in he tells me to get over it and if i wanna be grown to figure it out. i don’t wanna be grown i just wanted my dad to love me. also is there something wrong with me that just makes people want to sa me. i coped with the first one but then it happened again and i don’t think i will ever recover. i’m always paranoid and if i see someone who even remotely looks like my abuser i panic and want to cry. i’ve been fine for years until recently idk what made it bad again. #AssaultSurvivors #Depression #NarcissisticAbuse
My best friend recommended this book to me. Her therapist recommended it to her. She insists that it’s an amazing book and also extremely helpful.
Updates on Life
Last I posted, I was in a rough spot, needing to share the truth of my mental illness with my parents but being afraid to do so because I feared I would cause burden in their lives. I did finally hit rock bottom one night, however, and the truth came out. And so I moved back in with them, into a loft above their garage, and it's been nice living with people again.
HOWEVER, my grandma (who also lives with us) is a classic narcissist. I've been left to take care of her for two weeks while my parents are in Europe. And yesterday, she went off on a belligerent tirade about how she's being mistreated in this house (not true) and how my parents do nothing for her (except they do everything for her). And when trying to explain she was thinking illogically, she pulled the classic narcissistic acts of gaslighting and turning the whole conversation around to where everyone else was wrong.
I still am recovering from a horrible 3-year marriage with an abusive narcissist, and to say yesterday's argument with my grandma was triggering doesn't even cover it. I ended up in my room, shaking and full of rage that I haven't experienced since the day I decided my marriage was over. I cut for the first time in 2-1/2 years just to release the pain, and I had to take 20mg of Xanax just to sleep (I usually take somewhere between 5 to 10mg when I'm having a panic attack). I still am seething, and I still have 10 days until my parents return from their trip.
Naturally, I can't say anything to my parents until they return home, because I want them to enjoy their trip. But now I'm left realizing how utterly alone I am. I could've used someone to talk to last night, someone to calm me down, someone to walk with me through the darkness and the pure rage. And so now I'm left feeling utterly depressed, realizing how truly alone I am in this world. There's no one for me to share life with, to make me smile and laugh. No shoulder to cry on. And I'm just...so lonely.
I could really use some words of encouragement or wisdom. How do I set up boundaries with my Grandma when I'm forced to live in the same home with her, knowing it will hurt my mother who's caught in the middle?
I was just thinking about how, over the years, I would bring up a memory with a family member in hope that THIS time I would finally be heard and they would see what had been and continues to go on in this family. The response would usually be, "Why can't you just leave the past in the past?"
I JUST realized, my FAMILY members are my past; because, they are NEVER going to change, acknowledge, nor have any remorse and I am so PAST being abused. So, I will take my family member's advice to leave the past in the past and that's where they all will stay.
No contact has been a good thing; because, I realize now that when they kept saying, "Oh, you're SO negative," the reality is, I have never been a negative person. I was surrounded by negative people through whom I endured negative experiences and for which I had an appropriately negative response.
Since going no contact, my true, positive, silver lining seeking self is growing stronger and stronger every single day!
I am Enough
I’m not good enough, and I’ll never be good enough.
Not for her, not for me, not for who I want to be.
So go ahead cut me down, yell and scream all you want.
For now I remain useless, my hands are bound.
You criticize my efforts to improve, you criticize all the little things that I do.
From the way that I dress to the way I express,
From the success to the little flaws that I possess.
I transgress, I oppress, and finally I acquiesce.
All the words you tell me are filled with unkindness.
All the points you address make me distress for all I wish to do is impress.
I’m not good enough but I want to be,
But I’ll never be good enough, that at least I can see.
Still you bring me down and still I’ll never give,
The dreams I have are boundless the dreams I want to live.
However I remain soundless to you and your fancy gown.
I will pick myself up and upon my head place a crown.