Recent posts
#1
Recovery Journals / Re: Miscellaneous ramblings of...
Last post by sanmagic7 - Today at 01:24:11 PMi agree w/ hannah1 - you gave the original idea to your M, now it's hers to do with as she thinks best. i had a good friend who once told me there were 2 problems between people - one is there's, the other is yours. and if we sort out which is which, we can live a healthier life (or words to that effect). i've found that philosophy extremely helpful at times when stuck w/ thinking i had to fix someone else's problem. nope, it's not mine to fix, and what a relief that was.
just some thoughts. i hope you can continue to know and hold your boundaries, NK. you're on your way. love and hugs
just some thoughts. i hope you can continue to know and hold your boundaries, NK. you're on your way. love and hugs
#2
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - Today at 12:46:21 PM Mom brought me down to the school and urged them to take me in at age 4. She demonstrated that I was far too precocious to be sitting at home. She had me demonstrate mastery of all the things they teach in kindergarten. Numbers, shapes, colors, etc. I knew my street address, home phone number, My mom and grandmother's full names, etc. Then she pulled off her favorite party trick: She'd pull out a book from her purse, open it to a random page, and have me read it aloud.
On this day it was "A Day No Pigs Would Die".
The school relented on the grounds that while I was too young to enroll, I technically would be old enough before the end of the school year.
I realize now that part of her motivation to get me in school was to get me out of her hair. Which I mainly was anyway.
My grandmother did most of the heavy lifting back then. My mom was mostly asleep. I spent all day exploring the neighborhood, visiting with the neighbors, playing outside or in the basement.
I would only come home for lunch and when the streetlights were on. I wasn't a burden to begin with, but even *that* was too much for her! I was too noisy and too much of a hassle and really should be in school at that time of day.
On this day it was "A Day No Pigs Would Die".
The school relented on the grounds that while I was too young to enroll, I technically would be old enough before the end of the school year.
I realize now that part of her motivation to get me in school was to get me out of her hair. Which I mainly was anyway.
My grandmother did most of the heavy lifting back then. My mom was mostly asleep. I spent all day exploring the neighborhood, visiting with the neighbors, playing outside or in the basement.
I would only come home for lunch and when the streetlights were on. I wasn't a burden to begin with, but even *that* was too much for her! I was too noisy and too much of a hassle and really should be in school at that time of day.
#3
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - Today at 12:27:22 PM All the pieces are falling into place.
The strange man in the cowboy hat at the door in the motel. He brought mom food and news. Fast food in a bag, only enough for two. Probably McDonald's but I'm not certain. "He's still looking for you".
She was very deliberate to not let us see him or him see us, but I caught a glimpse.
That had to be her other husband.
And my dad... I don't know where he was, but I *do* know that he had an alias and was a bigamist himself. I have more research to do to pin that down.
Wherever he was, he wasn't home. Miss Pat would call home and never get an answer and then take it out on us.
I always wondered who called CYS. I always assumed it was a neighbor who could hear her yelling, hitting, and us crying. But now I think it's more likely it was her.
So that's it. Our mom cared enough to bring us with her when she fled, but not enough to keep us when forced to choose between us and her other family. She absolutely 100% abandoned us. Didn't even have the decency to drop us off at a church orphanage or with my grandparents or something.
And then when her husband kicked her out, suddenly we became important enough to track down. How completely selfish of her! She should've left us where we were. Our foster families were better.
The custody battle for my sister dragged on for years and she should have lost. Even my dad testified on behalf of the foster family at the hearing. My mother was unfit, but she won custody anyway.
It reads like a bad Victorian horror story.
I have an appointment with my T today. We have a lot to talk about.
The strange man in the cowboy hat at the door in the motel. He brought mom food and news. Fast food in a bag, only enough for two. Probably McDonald's but I'm not certain. "He's still looking for you".
She was very deliberate to not let us see him or him see us, but I caught a glimpse.
That had to be her other husband.
And my dad... I don't know where he was, but I *do* know that he had an alias and was a bigamist himself. I have more research to do to pin that down.
Wherever he was, he wasn't home. Miss Pat would call home and never get an answer and then take it out on us.
I always wondered who called CYS. I always assumed it was a neighbor who could hear her yelling, hitting, and us crying. But now I think it's more likely it was her.
So that's it. Our mom cared enough to bring us with her when she fled, but not enough to keep us when forced to choose between us and her other family. She absolutely 100% abandoned us. Didn't even have the decency to drop us off at a church orphanage or with my grandparents or something.
And then when her husband kicked her out, suddenly we became important enough to track down. How completely selfish of her! She should've left us where we were. Our foster families were better.
The custody battle for my sister dragged on for years and she should have lost. Even my dad testified on behalf of the foster family at the hearing. My mother was unfit, but she won custody anyway.
It reads like a bad Victorian horror story.
I have an appointment with my T today. We have a lot to talk about.
#4
Please Introduce Yourself Here / Re: Seeking Support after Extr...
Last post by NarcKiddo - Today at 10:35:15 AM
Welcome.
#5
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by NarcKiddo - Today at 10:27:52 AMWow. That's quite a discovery to process. 
#6
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - Today at 05:05:22 AM I started this thread with a comment about feeling like an "imposter".
I officially rescind that. The cruel punchline is that this story, horrifying and shocking as it is, isn't the "bad part". It's just the preamble. Things would get MUCH worse later on.
Yeah, this is where I'm supposed to be.
Best,
-Slashy
I officially rescind that. The cruel punchline is that this story, horrifying and shocking as it is, isn't the "bad part". It's just the preamble. Things would get MUCH worse later on.
Yeah, this is where I'm supposed to be.
Best,
-Slashy
#7
Recovery Journals / Re: Post-Traumatic Growth Jour...
Last post by TheBigBlue - Today at 02:54:03 AM
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: Miscellaneous ramblings of...
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 02:23:35 AMMostly ignoring or silencing, when there is no actual ask for help or input.
"They made their bed."
"Do as you please."
Hooray for boundaries, clarity, courage, reality!
"They made their bed."
"Do as you please."
Hooray for boundaries, clarity, courage, reality!
#9
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 02:20:26 AMI have a self-centered habit of automatically assuming that everything that happens in my life, and in the life of those I love, or even in the life of those who are just around, is because I am bad.
LOL.
What if that's not it, HannahOne. What if, in fact, events are multifactorial, infinitely refracted over seconds, minutes, years and decades back into the past and actually have not one thing to do with me?
Scary. An unpredictable world over which I'd have... no control. Liberating. An unpredictable world over which I'd have...no control. Only sometimes controlling my own actions, in so far as I can.
Frank has pissed on the hallway rug. I am outraged, but I soften it immediately, because as soon as I feel the outrage, he crouches, head to the ground and freezes, eye dilating under the yellow hallway light. Sorry, Frank. What is this all about? He hops back to his room, chinning the wall. Was he just marking his territory? It appears so. That's a choice, Frank, I tell him.
Was it? Or was it instinct. I throw the rug in the wash. He never does that. Maybe once a year. He momentarily regressed to wild Frank. He's not a bad rabbit. He is just being a rabbit.
I have a lot of choices, a lot of control over my behavior. And, some things aren't my choice, they're instincts, just being a person. I'm not bad. Things happen.
Under outrage, Frank crouches. It's a freeze. A way to stay safe, to disappear into the rug's pattern when he feels predator aggression, so I don't hurt him for being a rabbit.
Does he feel shame? Shame is a freeze. It's protective. He doesn't choose it. It's instinct. Freezing is just being a rabbit. And it doesn't mean he actually did anything wrong.
Maybe shame isn't my choice either. Maybe it's instinct. Maybe it's just being a person. It doesn't mean I actually did anything wrong.
LOL.
What if that's not it, HannahOne. What if, in fact, events are multifactorial, infinitely refracted over seconds, minutes, years and decades back into the past and actually have not one thing to do with me?
Scary. An unpredictable world over which I'd have... no control. Liberating. An unpredictable world over which I'd have...no control. Only sometimes controlling my own actions, in so far as I can.
Frank has pissed on the hallway rug. I am outraged, but I soften it immediately, because as soon as I feel the outrage, he crouches, head to the ground and freezes, eye dilating under the yellow hallway light. Sorry, Frank. What is this all about? He hops back to his room, chinning the wall. Was he just marking his territory? It appears so. That's a choice, Frank, I tell him.
Was it? Or was it instinct. I throw the rug in the wash. He never does that. Maybe once a year. He momentarily regressed to wild Frank. He's not a bad rabbit. He is just being a rabbit.
I have a lot of choices, a lot of control over my behavior. And, some things aren't my choice, they're instincts, just being a person. I'm not bad. Things happen.
Under outrage, Frank crouches. It's a freeze. A way to stay safe, to disappear into the rug's pattern when he feels predator aggression, so I don't hurt him for being a rabbit.
Does he feel shame? Shame is a freeze. It's protective. He doesn't choose it. It's instinct. Freezing is just being a rabbit. And it doesn't mean he actually did anything wrong.
Maybe shame isn't my choice either. Maybe it's instinct. Maybe it's just being a person. It doesn't mean I actually did anything wrong.
#10
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 02:06:40 AMNK I am so glad you have been able to make progress with this!
I am taking this to heart "It happened after I was able to accept logically, if not emotionally, that there might be a way to calm Little NK and other parts, and that I needed to try to communicate with her."
A way to calm, a way to communicate. I need to communicate with myself. All of myself. I may not feel I can, feel it would work, but I can accept logically that it worked for NK so it could work for me, that it's possible.
The dial might be communication with myself. And communicating safety, compassion. Not shame, punishment, disappointment, rejection, fury that once again, I've skipped out on myself, what's wrong with me, why do I always do this....
thank you.
I am taking this to heart "It happened after I was able to accept logically, if not emotionally, that there might be a way to calm Little NK and other parts, and that I needed to try to communicate with her."
A way to calm, a way to communicate. I need to communicate with myself. All of myself. I may not feel I can, feel it would work, but I can accept logically that it worked for NK so it could work for me, that it's possible.
The dial might be communication with myself. And communicating safety, compassion. Not shame, punishment, disappointment, rejection, fury that once again, I've skipped out on myself, what's wrong with me, why do I always do this....
thank you.