Beginning my journey alone
I just need someone to know. I'm dealing with this almost completely alone. Thank goodness for Scotty. He's my one true friend. Both of us gay and that's where the simularity in our lives, past and present end. He was raised by loving parents. The youngest of two. He has an older sister. I've watched through the years the different problems him and his family have faced, dealt with and moved past. I've seen how a fairly functional family unit works. I didn't know that before. I'd never seen it. Not in my family, and not in the disfunctional family of past friends. How wonderful for him to have parents who want to know about his life. To have parents who love him. To have parents who take an active part. I didn't know parents did that.
Here's my story... Fucked up as it is.
All my life I've believed my mother did not love me. It just wasn't possible. I recently figured out that she's a socialpath. Unable to love. No, she never did love me. She never could. Not me and not any of my siblings or any of her spouses or even herself. Not one of us. Though she definitely approves of some of us more than others. I'm one of those she would never approve of. Maybe it's not that she doesn't love me that's the problem. Maybe the problem is she doesn't like me. Not one thing I have ever done met with her appoval. And the really fucked up part - I didn't even realize it. She could be so abusive to me; and I would just take it. Not processing what she was doing. I wasn't allowed to. If I did, then I would have to admit my mother was not worthy of honor; and I was Commanded to honor her.
So, I spent my whole life being manipulated by her; pretending she was a victim of her own childhood and that's why she behaved so bad, but that she was a good woman - just ignorant. Bad childhood or not - she had no right. She took my power from me and called me bad. Always bad. Never good enough. Breaking me down day by day all the while telling me how much she loved me and how she always put us kids first.
Living these lies are the most destructive. It would have been better if I would have understood the monster she really is instead of "honoring" her so God would be pleased. Abusers often use religion to control us. Control us through fear.
Recently I went through hypnotherapy. Part of that therapy envolved venting out past trauma. It went on for 3 full days and nights. My mind raced. My dreams were violent. And I was terrified. I didn't quiet understand what was happening. Luckily, it was a good thing. I was actually processing and releasing trauma I had carried with me my whole life. I felt so much lighter afterward. But now I was aware of the trauma and couldn't let any more be put back into. I'm mean really couldn't. I was overwhelmed by that sense.
...and then they voted yes on prop 8 to make sure my short lived equality was taken from me. That was the break I was waiting for. Fuck them if they think it would ever be okay to betray me like this. And yet, that's exactly what was expected. I was expected to take it and to be okay with it. No emotions allowed. They never have been. It was never the traumatic experiences that were the problem - it was my reaction that was the problem. I'm a baby. Too sensitive. Why would I expect people to be so kind to me? That's ridiculous.
I hate them.
It gets worse.
So, I stopped talking to most of them. And then...
Then there's my little sister. A whole nother story.
When she was born I was 10 and the youngest child by my mother and father. Lisa is a half sister (different dad). It never felt that way though. I was deeply in love with her the minute she was born. Wow. So cute. And she loved me! Through all the darkness, there was a little adorable light. And I couldn't have loved her more. But of course, the only good thing in my life was not to last. After the final break up with Lisa's dad my mom found the next abusive man she would marry. And was Lisa in trouble. My mom thinks a good man beats his family; and Lisa was all alone. She had to take it with no one else there but her. And it was brutal. Eventually she was sent away because she was such "trouble maker". Mother fuckers. I hate them.
So they sent her to my older brother and enabler married to Lisa's next abuser. She was around 8 or 9 at the time, maybe a little older; and spent the next 2 to 3 years being tortured there. Fuckers.
I wanted her to come live with me, but in my family if you aren't controlling, domineering and abusive, you're too immature for such a thing.
And therefore, my sister and I both have had extremely difficult adult lives as well. But being a person of strong love, especially for Lisa, I have always given anything possible to help her. And. She demanded it.
After years of walking on eggshells; giving her money; enduring false accusation after false accusation and enduring long periods of estrangment (and the loss of her children) - she just finally has ended it again. I say finally because she WONT do it again. The book that revealed that my mother was a socialpath, unfortunately made it painfully clear that my beloved little sister had the love beaten out of her. She doesn't and can't love me. And now my beautiful little neice, whom I helped raise, hates me because of lies my little sister are telling about me. Now I am Lisa's target and she wants me to hurt as much as possible. And she's doing a good fucking job of it. I'd like to take her and fuck her up. I'm so angry and hurt and frustrated and scared and I don't know what else.
And that's where I'm at. Right now. Right here. And that's why I feel bad...
Here's my story... Fucked up as it is.
All my life I've believed my mother did not love me. It just wasn't possible. I recently figured out that she's a socialpath. Unable to love. No, she never did love me. She never could. Not me and not any of my siblings or any of her spouses or even herself. Not one of us. Though she definitely approves of some of us more than others. I'm one of those she would never approve of. Maybe it's not that she doesn't love me that's the problem. Maybe the problem is she doesn't like me. Not one thing I have ever done met with her appoval. And the really fucked up part - I didn't even realize it. She could be so abusive to me; and I would just take it. Not processing what she was doing. I wasn't allowed to. If I did, then I would have to admit my mother was not worthy of honor; and I was Commanded to honor her.
So, I spent my whole life being manipulated by her; pretending she was a victim of her own childhood and that's why she behaved so bad, but that she was a good woman - just ignorant. Bad childhood or not - she had no right. She took my power from me and called me bad. Always bad. Never good enough. Breaking me down day by day all the while telling me how much she loved me and how she always put us kids first.
Living these lies are the most destructive. It would have been better if I would have understood the monster she really is instead of "honoring" her so God would be pleased. Abusers often use religion to control us. Control us through fear.
Recently I went through hypnotherapy. Part of that therapy envolved venting out past trauma. It went on for 3 full days and nights. My mind raced. My dreams were violent. And I was terrified. I didn't quiet understand what was happening. Luckily, it was a good thing. I was actually processing and releasing trauma I had carried with me my whole life. I felt so much lighter afterward. But now I was aware of the trauma and couldn't let any more be put back into. I'm mean really couldn't. I was overwhelmed by that sense.
...and then they voted yes on prop 8 to make sure my short lived equality was taken from me. That was the break I was waiting for. Fuck them if they think it would ever be okay to betray me like this. And yet, that's exactly what was expected. I was expected to take it and to be okay with it. No emotions allowed. They never have been. It was never the traumatic experiences that were the problem - it was my reaction that was the problem. I'm a baby. Too sensitive. Why would I expect people to be so kind to me? That's ridiculous.
I hate them.
It gets worse.
So, I stopped talking to most of them. And then...
Then there's my little sister. A whole nother story.
When she was born I was 10 and the youngest child by my mother and father. Lisa is a half sister (different dad). It never felt that way though. I was deeply in love with her the minute she was born. Wow. So cute. And she loved me! Through all the darkness, there was a little adorable light. And I couldn't have loved her more. But of course, the only good thing in my life was not to last. After the final break up with Lisa's dad my mom found the next abusive man she would marry. And was Lisa in trouble. My mom thinks a good man beats his family; and Lisa was all alone. She had to take it with no one else there but her. And it was brutal. Eventually she was sent away because she was such "trouble maker". Mother fuckers. I hate them.
So they sent her to my older brother and enabler married to Lisa's next abuser. She was around 8 or 9 at the time, maybe a little older; and spent the next 2 to 3 years being tortured there. Fuckers.
I wanted her to come live with me, but in my family if you aren't controlling, domineering and abusive, you're too immature for such a thing.
And therefore, my sister and I both have had extremely difficult adult lives as well. But being a person of strong love, especially for Lisa, I have always given anything possible to help her. And. She demanded it.
After years of walking on eggshells; giving her money; enduring false accusation after false accusation and enduring long periods of estrangment (and the loss of her children) - she just finally has ended it again. I say finally because she WONT do it again. The book that revealed that my mother was a socialpath, unfortunately made it painfully clear that my beloved little sister had the love beaten out of her. She doesn't and can't love me. And now my beautiful little neice, whom I helped raise, hates me because of lies my little sister are telling about me. Now I am Lisa's target and she wants me to hurt as much as possible. And she's doing a good fucking job of it. I'd like to take her and fuck her up. I'm so angry and hurt and frustrated and scared and I don't know what else.
And that's where I'm at. Right now. Right here. And that's why I feel bad...
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