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 | Feb 5, 2016 | Abuse, Anxiety, Child Grooming, Child Sexual Abuse, Social Anxiety Disorder |
Have you ever had a dream or well nightmare that’s so vivid you can feel it happening to you as it’s going on. I’ve been having the same nightmare for as long as I can remember. It starts the same way and the outcome never changes. When I try to talk to people about it I can’t explain the vividness of the dream. The only people who understand are just like me; trying to deal with the fact that someone they are supposed to love and trust just took advantage of them. Let me clear somethings up so you aren’t confused I am a 17 year old girl, my attacker is a 25 year old female. We are both the same sex. My attacker was my aunt she was 13 I was 5 when it started.
The nightmare won’t stop it’s exactly what she did 12 years ago.
She took me to her room like we did forever because she was my aunt and we hung out in her room instead of dealing with the family during the gatherings because I have anxiety really bad. I sat on her bed and we started to play with dolls. She then pushes the dolls off the bed and tells me to come here. Me only being 5 I didn’t know if I was in trouble or if she just got bored from playing with the dolls. I crawled over to her and she started to undress me. I asked her if it was bath time and she told me it was something like that. Once she got me naked she started to undress too. The minute she was undressed she went to her closet and pulled out a couple of sex toys. I asked her what they were and she just told me they were toys. She got on top of me and put her fingers inside me, and she said that they would be a tight fit but she would make them work. I told her I didn’t like this new game and I didn’t want to play anymore. She told me to shut up and them continued. She started to put the toy in me but with me only being 5 it wouldn’t fit. She kept pushing harder until I started to cry and she stopped. She told me this is what people do to each other when they love one another. I told her that’s not how my mom and dad show me that they love me. She got mad and slapped my face really hard and told me that if I talked back to her she would hit me even harder. I just sat there and nodded my head. Once I was quiet and quit crying she started to feel me up again but this time she was biting all over my chest and said she couldn’t wait till I had boobs for her to go at. I started to cry again and she shoved her fingers inside me again and told me to quit crying or it will hurt worse. I nodded my head and just gave up trying. I gave up trying to make her stop. I gave up on everything after that.
After I get to here in my nightmare I just wake up screaming. I told my mom after I had nightmares for about a year. She tried to press charges on her sister for everything she had done because it wasn’t just one or two attacks it was many. But the state police wouldn’t do anything about it because we were both minors. They told my mom and I to forget anything even happened. She got away with a slap on her wrist. My mom, dad, and brother know about it all and act like it never happened. My grandparents also know and I’m pretty sure that they are just trying to buy back my love and trust with clothes and shoes. I don’t blame them for it and I don’t blame myself. I wish I had told someone sooner than when I did, but I was 5 when it happened and 6 when I told. I know how hard it is to explain to my friends when I spend the night and I have nightmares. The story gets easier to tell over the years, but when I do tell it I’m scared people won’t look at me the same. I’m scared people will think I can’t handle social events, or I can’t do crowds, or that they have to baby me and protect me from the world. I can handle events and crowds, and I prefer to dive head first into the pool of life. I act like nothing happened by day but at night it’s like it never stopped.
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 | Jan 26, 2016 | Adult Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse, Anxiety, Bullying, Child Sexual Abuse, Childhood Bullying, Obesity, Social Anxiety Disorder |
I’ve never spoken about any of this. I’ve always been afraid that my secrets, the ones I knew I’d take to the grave would get out and tear my world apart. But as I get older I’m starting to see that my world is falling apart anyway, so here goes nothing.
I think there’s something wrong with me (I’m so annoyed that it sounds cliche). What I mean is that, while growing up, things happened, things that I was never helped with and things that I didn’t deal with. Now that I’m older, I feel like my walls are closing in on me and I don’t know what to do. I come from a family of 12. I’ve never been the one to give my parents any trouble. This means that they don’t have the time to know whats going on in my life and I’m so glad I’m not a burden to them. Sometimes though I wish I had a bit of guidance on the more trivial things.
When I was younger my older brother used me to masturbate. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I know I felt sick writing that sentence, but I think I’m just scared that people will know. I don’t talk about it, I’ve never told anyone. I’m not really sure if that’s abuse or not. I’ve heard stories far worse then that and I don’t think it would be fair to say that I’ve been through the same thing.
I guess I’m a little angry at my family. I know they all knew. I remember telling my older sisters and watching them giggle. (they were young so I don’t blame them). The problem is life went on like nothing happened. To this day. That wont change because if I tore my family apart like that, I don’t think they would ever forgive me, I would never forgive me. In spite of everything I still love my brother and I think that’s enough.
Next was primary school. I didn’t have a single friend, I remember trying to hide from the girls who used to hunt me down for fun. They were always coming up with new names and new games, they picked on the way I looked mostly. At home it was the same, I have four sisters and for some reason I didn’t fit in, when I was home they used to play tricks on me like tying me up in our bedroom and leaving me there for hours or pretending to make me a drink when I was sick only to spit and put detergents in it. They would tease me about my weight a lot, about how I was getting bullied at school, about how I was different, odd and disgusting. What I never understood is why. I would always try to be so nice, why was that the thing that made me so vulnerable. These were the worst years of my life.
High school was pretty much the same right up to year 9. I was the outsider. In year 10 I thought “Screw it!” I’d rather not have friends then surround myself with people that would bring me down. Ironically, while alone, I made some pretty wonderful friends that year.
Now I’m 22, still living at home and I feel riddled with insecurity. I’m embarrassed to be seen in public, I try not to be noticed, when I do get out and socialize, I’m awkward, nervous and my words get jumbled up.
I’ve been dieting since primary school and in spite of all my good and bad choices I’ve only ever gained weight. I’m a size 12 now. I don’t wear clothes that show my figure or skin above my fore arm or even my legs. That is something that has gotten worse in the last year. I used to at the very least wear dresses. It was over 40 degrees yesterday and I couldn’t take off my jumper because I didn’t want people to notice me. I don’t go swimming anymore and I tend to avoid parties. I have the most wonderful friends in the world but I find it hard to get close to them, or to feel entirely comfortable around them.
I study Architecture at university. Its a grueling course that requires me to present my work to people who will exploit my weaknesses. I should be getting stronger and developing a thicker skin shouldn’t I? Instead I feel like my confidence in presenting is getting worse. I’ve developed a stutter and I always go blank.
I’m scared that I’m spiraling, I’ve researched psychologists but the ones I’ve found are expensive and I’m worried someone will find out. I don’t wont to be the girl with “emotional baggage”, but I don’t want to be completely shut out either. This is all I think about now.
I’m sure I’ll work it out but if you have read this, thanks, and I wish you so much happiness and healing on your own journey. God bless.
by Band Back Together | Dec 29, 2015 | Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents, Alcohol Addiction, Bullying, Child Abuse, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem |
This has actually hit me like a ton of bricks, and I thought I had it sorted.
My mum is a Narcissist of the proper, fully paid up, type.
I knew it – I had heard it said and had agreed and listened but, it never, ever really sunk in. I don’t think I would allow it to. She also has a whole host of other mental health issues but, none of that really had the impact that the Narcissistic Personality Disorder did; not on me anyway…and we are talking major, major Psychotic breaks.
They were easier than when she was ‘well’.
I looked it up last night in bed and came across this site and read about having a Narcissist for a Mum and I was like…Oh – My – God (with the proper shocked face and everything). I knew I had been feeling ‘out of sorts’ for days now. I knew that my unavoidable interactions with her lately were taking me back and putting me in touch with a time from long ago. I knew I felt more off kilter than I do generally – and that’s saying something as I don’t think I’ve ever been ‘on’ kilter.
I knew I felt weepy and angry in turns, and hurt and wanting to run away. I feel repulsed by her – in every sense of the word and that was unusual because – normally I would feel…numb. My grown adult stance was – numb. Don’t react, don’t show weakness, NEVER share (I learnt very quickly that ‘Anything I said could, and would, be used against me in a court of mum).
So – to be weepy and grumpy and just…unusual feeling, wasn’t my norm. So I came here and…BANG.
The article, the Narcissistic Parent one – felt like a smack in the mouth. It felt like reading a scarily accurate slice of my life. Like someone had just divided me up like a birthday cake – took one slice and read it back to me. Everything was there. Everything.
Why did I not accept it before..? Because, I could see it and hear it and even nod in wise agreement but, nothing was shifting or moving or sinking in. My Therapist had all but told me! I had all but told others, I just can’t explain it…
…only – I can. I didn’t believe it and I deleted it from my knowledge base or ‘truths’ about myself because, deep down, I still believe her.
It’s still all my fault. I am still ugly and unlovable and blameworthy. There is still something wrong with me which made her not love me. It’s still all me; my fault. She hates me and then ‘they’ hated me. My sibling and her. I am hated and the reason is – just me, being me. Born bad, I am still bad – defective. I can cause stuff without even being near or ever involved. I believe this. I truly do.
I – still – do. THAT’S why I had nodded my head and made all the right noises and hadn’t believed a word anybody had ever said or anything, to date, I had read.
But, there was me in Black and White. The Scapegoat.
How I wished I was the Golden One. I used to dress up in their clothes, in private when they weren’t around, so I could pretend to be them. I used to study them to try and be more like them – and less like me.
They had lovely clothes, colourful and swishy. Beautiful things that were bright and warm and smelled nice and looked nice. I had…track suits; androgynous and bland. Not a boy – not a girl – not anything you could describe. Nothing to give identity or personality.
I got caught once – red handed and guilty. Golden One cornered me against my bedroom door and punched me, full on, in the face and I screamed. This alerted mum, who rushed up the stairs and without even stopping for a breath or asking what had happened, she rushed on to me and punched me too – full on – in the face.
I think I was about 10 years old then.
I also remember a time when I was cowering in the corner of my bed while they both scratched and hit and clawed at me. I don’t know how old I was then – or even what I had done. I just remember being in the corner with no way out and being hit.
Golden One had an awesome bedroom that was age and sex appropriate, it was full and warm and lovely. Mine was sparse and bloody cold and – empty.
My love was ‘him’. And that made me bad too because ‘he’ was bad. And he was.
But, whilst I’m writing this I’m buzzing about and carrying on with life and a thought occurred..
To me – ‘he’ was safe.
A violent, alcoholic bully was SAFE – for me.
This used to confirm to me (ok, still does), how ‘bad’ I was. And it definitely confirmed to them how bad I was. He was ‘BAD’ (and he was – no dispute there) but…
…he liked me. He thought I was funny and strong and intelligent. He felt sorry for me and I knew that because I overheard a conversation once…hanging over the banister…
‘…why do you do it?’
‘Because no one else does…’
That was me. The question was ‘Why do you favour her?’ He tried to champion me and – he failed – because he was a bullying alcoholic, a violent person, horrible, despicable – and then he died.
by Band Back Together | Nov 18, 2015 | Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Divorce, Rape/Sexual Assault
When my mother was four years old, she lived in Cambodia. Her mother passed away due to the war with Khmer Rouge and the killing of poor, innocent people. My grandfather was a soldier from Vietnam who didn’t speak a word of Cambodian, yet fathered 14 kids.
Most of my mother’s brothers and sisters died during the war, but there were a few of them left. My mother, two uncles, two aunts, and my grandfather were all that remained in the family.
As time went by, my mother grew older and when she was 13 years old, she was sleeping in her room and her father came in. She didn’t think anything about it until he started pushing her down and forcing himself on her.
She screamed but no one in her family heard her cries. The next morning, she told her brothers and sisters what had happened to her, but they didn’t believe her. They asked her why would a man rape his own daughter? From that night on and for the next two years, she was raped regularly until she escaped to America to live with her brother.
Her brother was the black sheep of the family and he hated my mother.
His wife would only feed her four chicken wings and a bowl of rice a day. She had to work and give her brother the money or she would’ve been beaten. Her sister-in-law hated her so much that she made my mother wear men’s clothes to school. After so long, she forced my mother to quit school and to get a full-time job to pay more bills in the house.
After time went by, my mother met my father (who was my uncle’s best friend) and she believed that he would save her from the life she was living. She decided to marry him. Things weren’t right, but she had to get away from her brother and her evil sister-in-law.
Little did she know my father was worse then what she could have imagined.
Always yelling at her, beating her, and forcing her to have sex with him.
He made my mother give him a bath every day right before his girlfriend would come over to have sex with him in my parents room while my mother sat outside in the living room crying her eyes out.
He told her she was lucky that she was with him, that no one wants her and she was nothing.
My mother gave birth to my brother and then two years later, to me. My father loved my brother but always looked at me like I wasn’t his, and always accused my mother of cheating.
He used to call her all sort of names.
Then she had enough… she divorced him and moved out. Every time my father came over, she had a butcher knife ready for him. She was not taking it any more, and she stood her ground.
My parents went to court and the judge decided that my father should keep my brother and my mother should keep me. My father told the judge that I wasn’t his and my mother had cheated. The judge believed him and he granted his wish.
I have never seen my brother, but I saw my father when I was 16 years old. The first thing he said to me was, “You are my child, you look just like me.” Then told me that I “will not receive any money from him when he dies.”
These are the only words I really remember from my father.