by Band Back Together | May 6, 2016 | Abandonment, Abuse, Adult Children of Mentally Ill Parents, Anger, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Grief, Loneliness, Mental Health, Parent Loss, Parenting, Sadness |
Mental Illnesses are prevalent in our world. They greatly affect not only the individual involved, but the people around them. In the month of April, we focus our spotlight on Mental Health, in order to heal together and break down stigmas.
We want your stories. How has your own, or someone else’s mental illness affected your life? How are you rising above stigmas?
Please share your stories with us during the month of April.
Mum,
I am supposed to be heartbroken.
…and I am, but not for the reasons other people think.
When you go – I will mourn the life that could have been – the life you could have had, the life WE could have had; not the car crash it was – leaving nothing but broken people and devastation in its wake.
I will be sad for the “what if” and the “what could have been,” not the actuality. I’m not sad for the reality.
The reality is that your passing will set me free – to a certain extent – from my ‘you’ prison. I’ll still have to continue contending with the prison I built for myself, I know that, but, the direct pain of you will be no more.
People try to share with me, which is sweet and kind but, it makes me squirm and knocks my very thin rope of sanity a little. They tell me about their own experiences of losing a parent or grandparent and how sad they were and how they are there for me. They share things with me which they think will make me feel better – and it would – in an alternate universe, where you weren’t so horrible, and I wasn’t so messed up.
I kind of lie, and say ’“Thank you,” and pretend that I’m cut up about it, like they are about their own relatives passing, and I lie, and I lie, and I lie. Once again, I’m the weird outsider watching the world be normal while I’m in my own little weirdness bubble. What else can I say to them?
“Thanks so much for your kind words and your thoughts and wishes but, please – don’t waste them. She never loved me, and in turn, I’ve built a wall 7 feet tall. I spent my whole life trying to make her love me and it never worked, no matter what I did. This is not a normal ‘daughter losing her mother’ thing, so please – don’t hurt yourself remembering something painful to you in order to help me. Please, please don’t. ”
Sometimes I think I should cry, to look normal.
I nearly did cry the other day. I couldn’t bear to touch your skin with mine so I held your hand through the blanket, and you squeezed it. You squeezed my hand.
It was like throwing a starving person one sugar-free mint. Something wonderful and warm and meaningful but, at the same time empty – and too little – and far too late.
You hang on. Wasting away. I can almost identify every bone in your body. You rarely speak. You rarely wake now. Your body is breaking down, and even the nurses are praying you pass before the really ugly stuff starts happening.
But, you hang on …and on …and on…
I’m sorry you never got the life you wanted mum. I’m sorry it was so hard. I’m sorry you struggled with your own mind from childhood, and I’m sorry you made such awful, terrible, harmful choices. I’m sorry you experienced horrific things, and I’m sorry no one was ever there to protect you.
But, I’m angry you left me. You abandoned me whilst still being in front of me. I’m angry, sad, lost and hurt that you ignored me and chose others so much more favorably over me. The things you did to me, and said to me, and put me through were unforgivable. Some of the things still make me gasp a bit when I remember them because they were so cold and hard and callous; designed to hurt me and humiliate me and separate me. How could a mother treat their child like that?
I guess I don’t want other people’s sympathy because it’s not right. I’m not grieving over the prospective loss of you because, I’ve already been grieving your loss.
…since forever.
Safe journey, Mum.
by Band Back Together | Apr 19, 2016 | Child Neglect, Child Sexual Abuse, Childhood Bullying, Teen Bullying, Teen Self Injury |
To the 2 year old little girl, Allison, with brown eyes that love everyone and everything you are perfect never change.
3 year old Allison:
The dog bite and 120 plus stitches you will need in your face will only hurt for a little bit. It’s what comes later that will really hurt you.
4 year old Allison:
The daycare teachers and other kids at daycare will call you the ugly duckling. Don’t cry to much about it because at the end of the story the duck ends up being a swan. But that’s just a story and stories aren’t true. Right?
5 year old Allison:
Now is when you should try and run away from people. Here is when you change schools for the first time and you have to deal with the bullies again. Now is when you will have to talk to the state police about your aunt sexually harassing and sexually assaulting you for a couple of years. But that’s okay because that’s how you show people you love them. WRONG!!!! Now is when all the nightmares will start and you won’t sleep for the next couple of weeks and, sleeping the next couple of months without waking up screaming will be a miracle.
6,7,& 8 year old Allison:
These years will be different right? Wrong! These years the bullies get worse because they make new friends and become “Popular”. Don’t worry about what popular means you’ll find out within the next couple of years. But on the plus side you make a few new friends too. The downside to these friends one will steal your things when you have her spend the night, one will hate you most of the time, and the other is a boy that only has you for a friend.
9, 10, 11, & 12 year old Allison:
Those boys who always “pick on you” as the teachers call it only do it because they like you. Let me tell you how wrong that is. Those boys don’t like and probably never will. They are rude and can get away with murder because their dad is the big man at the school. You will be hurt emotionally, physically, and spiritually because of these boys and the fact that no one will help you because their daddy signs everyone’s paychecks. The teachers will say money is more important than you. You can’t get help.
You’ve made it this far through hell. Don’t look anyone in the eyes and don’t speak unless spoken too. You will break down in tears because now the boys are sexually harassing you and it brings back the nightmares. But still no help.
13 year old Allison:
You move schools to a place where no one knows your name. You will feel relief but only till a group of girls start to bully you. Those girls don’t matter though because later on they will become so of your closest friends. What really matters is that at the end of the year there will be a boy who takes his junk out in science class and measures it to see how manly he is. He will blame you on telling even though you didn’t. He will tell you that he is going to make small but deep cuts on you after he beats you so you will feel pain and slowly bleed out. The nightmares will come back but now you have him and his “manhood” threatening to kill you after your aunt takes advantage of you. You start to cut.
14, 15, & 16 year old Allison:
You’re in high school. The first day will go okay until you run into him in the hallway and you have a panic attack. You will have a panic attack at least once a day and will end up with a few new cuts for every panic attack. The nightmares will start again and for every sleepless night you add a couple of new cuts. Your wrist will be stained red for awhile but that’s okay because you realize how poetic black is and you wear it almost every day.
17 year old (Present day) Allison:
You have stopped cutting and hopefully for good this time. You never see him at school anymore but that’s because he is in a different building now. You’re a senior in high school, have panic attacks, social anxiety, and migraines often. You are falling apart and you shouldn’t be. You’ve been through so much that you will be up one night at 12 writing this warning because the nightmares wont stop and you haven’t been able to sleep all week because of them.
Thanks to all the crap that has happened I don’t feel. The only time I ever feel anything truly is when I physical hurt myself or when I have the nightmares. Other than those times I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s not normal for a 17 year old girl to not feel emotions. I talk to my mom about all of this all the time; she just doesn’t know how bad all this actually is.
Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I the only 17 year old who questions life, God, death, and emotions?
by Band Back Together | Mar 15, 2016 | Abuse, Adult Bullying, Child Loss, Child Neglect, Domestic Abuse, Economic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Munchausen By Proxy Syndrome, Psychological Manipulation |
After going through what was quite possibly the most difficult year I’ve had so far, Things are finally settling down.
I’ve lost a child, was denied access to a child and have fought all year through to get it back.
I faced some of the most horrific gas lighting abuse imaginable, I work in a position of trust and have done so for many years and my former abuser decided that they would try and get me fired with some of the worst false accusations you could imagine.
I’m now at a point where child protection services no longer believe my former abuser and have some solid boundaries in place to protect myself.
They tried so hard to pretend they were the victim whilst I watched them send constant mixed messages, cheat on me, control every aspect of my hard earned wages, my professional life and personal life alike, and I watched my friends disappear everyday, then when enough of my support had gone they turned on my family. They were constantly redirecting the blame for everything onto me and making me feel responsible for every bad situation they created by abusing others as well.
The final straw was when I recognized that they were trying to set me up to make the biggest move of gas lighting abuse imaginable, I’ll be the first to admit that it didn’t go as far as accusing me of Satan worship or cults where children were sacrificed, but it got pretty close and was all to try and control and limit my access to my child.
I then identified defining factors of Munchhausen by proxy in their behavior and had no choice but to try and protect my child as best as I could whilst fighting off these organizations that she used to further victimize me.
My child was ill, in accident and emergency or was at emergency appointments almost every week. I noticed that the universal factor was that my former abuser would always press for me to have contact with HER, not my child. When I tried to be there for my child without seeing them even under the supervision of medical professionals, I was told that it’s unacceptable and I have to see my former abuser.
I am still clearing up the shrapnel in my life but it’s back.
MY LIFE.
I’ve been studying the past year to help real victims of domestic violence as a McKensies friend, as well as help both mothers and fathers hold onto their children when courts become involved, offer practical and emotional support for the men women and children whilst maintaining my own contact with my child and jumping through those hoops.
I’m in a fairly successful band and still retain my job in a position of trust, I’ve trained as a volunteer children’s speech therapist and rebuilt all of those broken bridges from my friends and family and I’ve brushed up on my cooking skills a great deal, and I still donate blood as often as possible.
If I had tried any of this over the past years during my victimization I would of crumbled and broke under the pressure. But now, now I can do all of this with an ease that belies my former victimization. Now it’s all as natural as breathing to me.
I received a shock on valentines day, It was an act that helped me realize how far I’ve come and how much stronger I am.
My former abuser sent me a valentines card…….
Are they sure about that?
I suspect that they have either the final screw has come loose, lost the ability to exert their manipulation of others and want to try again with me, or want to try and set me up again.
Well, Not Gonna Happen.
I did not build all of this to watch them break it again.
Not this time.
Find someone else to fall victim to you’re disillusion, faux perception and toxic miasma of a personality because I am free.
Thank you to The Band and Aunt Becky
I’m sorry for my silence since my last post I’ve just been so busy.
Until next time,
Stay strong all of you
by Band Back Together | Jan 27, 2016 | Abandonment, Child Neglect, Economic Abuse, Estrangement, Parentification, Parenting Teens, Single Parenting |
I’m a 16 year old girl and I had to grow up fast. I never really got to enjoy my childhood, at times I don’t mind because I like feeling as though I’m capable to do things on my own, but sometimes I feel as thought I should’ve been able to live a normal teenage life. My father was in the picture but he was never mentally or emotionally there for me.
My mom had to take the role of both mother and father, but that made me feel like I had to be more responsible, like I had the responsibility of being a parent which I didn’t like. I started working once I turned 15 and I’ve worked ever since.
As soon as I got my first job my mom stopped helping me with anything and always asked me for money. I felt like I was the parent and she was the daughter. It really gets hard sometimes cause I feel as though she’s never played the role of being a mom. She kept a roof over my head and food in my stomach, but emotionally she was never there. I never got an “I love you” unless she did something really horrible towards me and felt guilty. I’ve never heard how was your day, how are your grades, how was school, would you like to talk about anything…none of these normal questions parents ask their kids. And it really hurts, I have just always wished I had an actual mom I could look up to.
by Band Back Together | Aug 26, 2015 | Anxiety, Child Neglect, Fear, Help with Parenting, Parenting |
When I was a little boy, only around four or five years old, we lived near a river in Colorado. My brothers and sister would swim in the river, sometimes diving off the bridge that was near our home. In order to keep me away from the river, my mother told me that there were alligators living in the water. Okay ma, there are alligators in the river.
We would take my dad’s work clothing into town to the laundromat. Now, I remember this day very clearly. We pulled up in our old blue truck, my Orange Crush clutched in my little hands. The day was warm and clear. Next to our parking spot was another truck with a very old man in the driver’s seat. As he got out, I noticed that he was missing an arm. I think I asked my mom why the man’s arm was gone. She said, “Well, that’s what happens to people who go swimming in the river.” I was shocked by this.
A few days, perhaps weeks went by, and mom decided that we would go swimming with my brothers and sister. She’d got a float tube for me. I don’t really remember much about the lead up, but as they pushed me out into the river, I remember clearly that I was terrified. I screamed and yelled to be taken back to shore. I remember that they were laughing as they took me back to the bank of the river.
I love the water, but to this day, if I’m in a river or lake, I can only swim for so long before feelings of panic begin to build up.
My mother, to this day, is terrified of strangers. I remember the first trip I went on with my parents to a big city. I was just ten or so. I was excited and curious, peering about at all the people, buildings and busy streets. As we pulled up to an intersection, the car next to us had some Hispanic people inside. My mother noticed that I was looking at them. She said, in all seriousness, “Don’t make eye contact with them! They will shoot us if you do!” This theme is recurrent in my childhood. Strangers are bad. Period.
Years ago, I asked my mom why she told me that story about the alligators. I explained that I couldn’t swim for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time without anxiety. She laughed, saying that she was just keeping her little boy safe. I really didn’t know what to say about that. I never really asked any more questions about it.
I have been deconstructing my upbringing, trying to find the ‘roots,’ as it were, to my problems. When describing my childhood to people, I would say that my parents left me to my own devices for the most part, making it sound as if I was afforded some kind of special privilege. Shedding the light of my current knowledge onto the events of my childhood, I was rather shocked to find that I was being neglected. I never really thought about it in quite that way, but it was quite the shock when I realized that.
Not that I blame them too much. They did what we all do – the best we know how. Apparently, the best my mother knew was to saddle her children with neuroses. The litany of fright that my mother used as a catechism to ward off harm, simply made it extraordinarily difficult for me to make any friends. After all, making eye contact could be deadly.
I make a conscious effort to not instill irrational fears into my children. Caution and skepticism about strangers, yes. Strangers as a likely source of murder, no. Caution and respect for water, yes. The lurking places of alligators …well, not where I live.
People, please don’t make your kids scared of life. The things that kids get from the adults in their lives, stick with them, right or wrong. We are omnipotent and omniscient to them. Guide them with wisdom, not fear!
by Band Back Together | Jan 29, 2015 | Abuse, Child Neglect, Fear, Guilt, Help With Relationships, Infidelity, Love, Romantic Relationships, Trust |
Dear Ex,
You did not see it, but my confidence in you stopped growing on a daily basis. I told you that I knew what I was hiding from everyday. I didn’t tell you that I was hiding from you. I didn’t tell you how scared I was of you. I always knew that we weren’t meant for each other, and you wanted to argue.
It is so great to see that you have moved on. So great to know that I have been released. I finally have what I wanted with us. I no longer have to question what I’ve been told. I no longer have to doubt the motives of my kind and nice friends. I no longer have to inspect everyone’s motives.
Is this just another cry for misplaced sympathy? Or is it an attempt to hurt me? The questions are irrelevant. You made sure of that when you abused my love, my trust, my friendship circles, my mind. They are, by far, not the worst forms of abuse that I was put through, but the persistence of them made them the most common.
I told you that you didn’t have to lie. I would stay by your side no matter what. I told you that I would forever hold a place in my heart for you. You tore that place out of my grasp when you decided to work with your friend to abuse me together. You looked at my kindness as a weakness, not for the strength that it is – the strength to give to those that are worth it, the strength to help anyone to heal from anything. My friends will forever be in my life, until death do us part.
I can and have always been able to achieve my dreams. That was the most terrifying part of your abuse, that you had no reservations in ripping all of them away from me, so that you could hurt me. I watched you spiral downward, into an abyss of vindictiveness.
Do you even remember why you started the abuse? Do you remember why you decided to let your dreams fall from your grip, and get fired from the job that you wanted since you were a child? Your abusive attitude lost you that job. It got you fired because you were more interested in self piety than in achieving something great, and being recognized for that.
To this day, I still blame your experiences as a child. I am guessing that no one paid attention when you did the right thing, but the moment you were crying, everyone was looking your way. Being starved for attention does that to a person. It’s not your fault, it is how you were raised. That is what you were taught was right.
I can only hope that you break the cycle of abuse, handed down to you by your mother, before our baby lives a life of toxicity, venom, and a lack of morals. I hope that you choose to change what you believe, and instead, aspire for attention for greatness.
You watch t.v. How many people watch when someone goes for gold in the Olympics? How many people are watching when the finals of X-Factor are shown? Do you want that, or do you want the hollow attention of someone that will forget you in a year’s time? I will forget you soon.
I forgot how it feels to love you a long time ago. I can’t even remember when I last had the desire to help you succeed. It could have been after you destroyed your own dream, the one I tried so hard to build your confidence to try. I hope you haven’t forgotten how to try. If you have, it’s no big deal because I don’t sympathize with you anymore. That is another thing you lost when you went on your vindictive, plague-fueled attack of my life.
You know you should have told me that you were “smiling and happy, bouncing off the walls,” that you had an amazing time, and he really made you feel special, the night you cheated on me. Instead you wanted to play the victim again. You wanted sympathy for the guilt of your actions.
Why did you feel guilty? It made no sense to me. I would have forgiven you, if you had been honest. I could not forgive you for playing the part of the victim when you broke my heart, like I was the one who did something wrong. Lying? Cheating? Your story never added up. The other guy’s story was consistent. You are the only one who can’t face what happened. You are the only one who claims to be the victim. You lost a lot of your friends because of your lies. You lost the last speck of my trust for you.
I felt my heart die when I finally accepted that I was in denial, and there was no reason to believe what you were telling me. I was ashamed that I let you control me again. I was ashamed to the point of not wanting to face life. But I got through it, and you didn’t hold me once. You didn’t sit by me, look into my eyes, take my hand, and say you were sorry, that everything was going to be alright. You withholding compassion, out of fear of the truth being exposed, was the worst part of your abuse. You knew you were lying from the start.
It will happen again and in the years to come. You will repeat the cycle of hiding the truth. You will repeat the pattern handed down to you by your mother. Your life will go back to Square One, and, like your mother, you will be unwanted by everyone.
Yours is the only dream I will not make come true. You fought it too hard.
My deepest condolences for the loss of your heart, empathy, compassion, a happy future, a life filled with people that will love you.
May they all rest in peace.
