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My extended family, from states away they saved my sister from my parents and the horrible life they built. They coached her to wait until after my mom beat her and left bruises, then sneak out in the middle of the night and run to a specific friend's house who could be trusted to call CPS and not my parents. It worked. The state took pictures of my sister's bruises and took her away, sent her to live in another state with my grandparents, never to return. Why did no one save me? Why did I have to live in hell until I escaped all by myself at 18?
I hardly know my extended family. They all seems so normal and well adjusted. I wonder if it is fake or if they really are normal. But most of all, I wonder why no one came for me after they heard from my sister all the sick things happening in and around our home. They obviously knew how to win with CPS. I remember my sister telling me how scared she was for me now that she was no longer there to take the brunt from my mom and protect me from the others. Why did no one else share this worry?
What do you do with the anger and the questions that are too revealing to ask? I have never spoken to the extended family about the things that happened to me, can't imagine I ever will. This year, I moved back to Florida so I could get to know them, but the more time I spend with them (unfortunately not much due to isolating myself repeatedly for weeks on end) the more I want to know if they even wondered if I was OK. Do they know my mom is and was bat guano crazy? Do they know the conditions we lived in or any of the horrid things I went through?
What do you do with the whys that can never be asked and the anger that has no direction?
I hardly know my extended family. They all seems so normal and well adjusted. I wonder if it is fake or if they really are normal. But most of all, I wonder why no one came for me after they heard from my sister all the sick things happening in and around our home. They obviously knew how to win with CPS. I remember my sister telling me how scared she was for me now that she was no longer there to take the brunt from my mom and protect me from the others. Why did no one else share this worry?
What do you do with the anger and the questions that are too revealing to ask? I have never spoken to the extended family about the things that happened to me, can't imagine I ever will. This year, I moved back to Florida so I could get to know them, but the more time I spend with them (unfortunately not much due to isolating myself repeatedly for weeks on end) the more I want to know if they even wondered if I was OK. Do they know my mom is and was bat guano crazy? Do they know the conditions we lived in or any of the horrid things I went through?
What do you do with the whys that can never be asked and the anger that has no direction?
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I did the dumbest thing today. I charged my earbuds, unplugged the block and put the block in my little bag instead of the earbuds. I wasn't happy about that when I got to the gym. What a dummy!
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Ever since I stopped doing therapy because of insurance, I've been feeling that old tense and irritable sense of anxiety and stress. I hate that. I was making so many strides and changes during therapy, my therapist would acknowledge all of my progress and accomplishments, and I miss that reassurance. Today I thought about it, and I made those changes! She would always tell me that I chose to...
I have to figure out what I need out of them and get it out without toppling all the boxes.
I know how slip into a disguise to fool others, but when it is just me? who am I fooling?
I also get mad at the whys? The avenues there to save me? But so many just turned their head.
So I sort.
Wouldn't it be lovely to be able to wave it away with my magic just wand? To JUST rescue every child in need, or at least the ones who share my blood.
As it is... I work on simple acceptance and deal with the symptoms as they present.
Needless to say, were not close now, either. Im sure they justify looking the other way to themselves just fine. I channel my anger into not looking the other way, myself. I dont go around with a red Superman cape looking to save victims of abuse, but I dont go blind when its in front of me. Thats something.
At least with "Why?" never answered, you have the luxury of filling in the blank with whatever thing you want to tell yourself to get through it. When you HAVE the "answer," you just wind up feeling... blah. Illusion destroyed.
I'd choose to stay ignorant, even it not blissfully.
Looking back at those days brought up intense rage in me and I almost went on a witch hunt, except replacing witch with crooked cops. I did share this with our provincial special investigation unit and they took it right to the attorney general. He decided to not investigate since most of those cops were probably dead now. This was fine with me, yet I still want to know their reasoning, their dishonourable role and their downright failure in protecting those they swore to protect.
Letting this go was a challenge even though I too struggle with that phrase. I basically had to peel back the anger to expose the hurt underneath. I'm still working through this one.
I do hope you find some peace with your own injustices as I'm slowly finding mine. You deserved to be rescued too, yet someone certainly failed you and now you deserve some peace in your life far from the misery of the past. Just keep moving forward even if you have to crawl, I know I've done a lot of crawling myself. My best to you, Blaine
Nowadays they would have authority to do something, even if your mother refused to press charges. you could be removed from the home and put in a foster home.
I was in a foster home as a teen, and had to leave my younger sister at home, and I worried about her, but there was nothing I could do. I have PTSD and survivor guilt because of that. Everywhere I go now,, I see my little sister in every child that is being yelled at and slapped by some angry mother on the street, and I do interfere. Everywhere I go I see my little sister in some little female that looks downtrodden.
I couldn't go back and get her. Later, when I was sent back home.. I did take her with me when we moved out as adults on our own, but she went her own way,, forgot every good thing I ever did, and in her PTSD I have been included as the 'enemy'.
I also don't understand how CPS can get involved with only one child and not all in the household.
Something sounds off.
I'm so sorry about all of it. My mother, knowing full well what my father had done to my older sisters, still got in her car and went to work every day, leaving me at home alone with him. I also made my mother aware of my brother's behavior and nothing changed. She just wanted to be out of the house as badly as the rest of us, and didn't have a protective nurturing bone in her body.
It's so awful, but we've survived. Sending you comfort and peace.
For myself, when I think that something is not helpful, then I think it is not worth the effort, to engage in those questions... learning to let go/forgive is not easy... forgiveness has a lot of negative connotations, because it implies that by forgiving, we condone what happened... no so... forgiving is just letting go of the want and wishes that the past could be different... forgiving ourselves for holding on to the anger, thereby hurting ourselves... letting go might be a better term to use.
I hope you can find some peace... sounds like you've experienced so much & no one was there for you... you deserved to have someone look out for you... you deserved to feel protected & loved... you still do... take care.
Anger is gone.
did not tell me she had died (I am only a niece!),and I only came across her obituary entirely by accident while doing a Google search for something else..
I SAVED myself at 16 when I ran away from my parents house. I had all the signs and symptoms of abuse. Including behavioral issues at school and home.
I guess I got use to being ignored and neglected from my parents... Till this day they think of me as below normal and crazy. So yes I understand how you feel.
As I've gotten to know my family history, sometimes I've gotten to the truth of my family tree and the abuse that has run through it for generations among its many branches. And sometimes I'm amazed I got out of there only as damaged as I was.
Sad to say, as an adult, research into my family's history recent and remote has shown that my family tree is quite rotten when it comes to repeated abuse of one another far and wide. It makes me grateful I saved myself and became a self-sufficient bachelor who is wisely estranged from them.