by Band Back Together | Oct 5, 2010 | Abuse, Adult Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse, Alcohol Addiction, Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Psychological Manipulation |
I lived a childhood full of secrets. I could not tell anyone outside of my family about what was really going on in my life.
My step-father was an alcoholic.
My step-father physically abused my mom.
He abused his step-children.
He didn’t abuse my younger sister, who was his biological child, although her seeing what he did to the rest of us was powerful abuse in itself.
He sexually abused me.
He went into drunken rages.
He humiliated us by showing up at our school drunk, demanding we leave with him.
He thought of new ways to inflict pain, thrilled when they “worked”.
We lived on eggshells. We lived in fear. Fear of him. Fear of tomorrow. Fear of five minutes from now.
But I could not speak. It wasn’t done.
So I kept the secrets.
I kept them for a very long time.
I kept them until I was married.
Then I told some of them.
Eventually, I sought counseling and told all of them.
ALL. OF. THEM.
I learned something valuable.
It isn’t a cliché.
The truth really DOES set you free.
It frees your soul from the weight you have been carrying.
It frees you to work through the secrets and move beyond them.
If you have secrets you have kept because someone told you that you can’t tell –
You can tell.
If you are keeping a secret to protect someone else-
Who is protecting you? Tell someone the secret.
If you have kept secrets because of shame or guilt –
Tell someone, set yourself free.
Make sure you tell a very trusted person.
Tell a close friend.
Tell family.
Tell your spouse.
Tell your religious leader.
If they are too painful or shameful or scary to tell someone you know –
Tell a therapist.
(I found a wonderful therapist. It cost money*, but there is no price too high for freedom and healing.)
It is time to heal yourself instead of protecting someone else.
You deserve it.
You need to release that burden you have carried for far too long.
It is frightening to think of telling a secret you have kept for so long.
I know it scared the hell out of me.
My entire body shook with tremors when I began bringing the secrets to the light.
But I have to tell you – I am so grateful I found the courage to tell.
When a secret is out in the open, you can examine it.
You can see it from a different point of view.
My secrets were from the viewpoint of a child’s understanding.
A child does not have the capability to understand a lot of things we adults understand.
Seeing them out in the daylight, as an adult, I was able to examine them.
I could see who held the responsibility for the situation.
I could see it wasn’t me.
I could see a future without that weight on my heart.
I read a quote once that I have stored in my heart.
I keep it in mind so I’ll NEVER keep a secret that is detrimental to myself again.
The quote is:
We are only as sick as our deepest secret.
A secret loses it’s power when you speak it in the light.
If you are keeping a secret, I encourage you to find a safe person, take a deep breath and shine a big, bright light on that ugly old secret.
It will set you free.
*Many communities have mental health centers where the fees for counseling/therapy are on a sliding scale, based on your income and expenses. Our local mental health center is where I found help. It is where I found the wonderful counselor who helped me work through the past and find my future.
by Band Back Together | Sep 29, 2010 | Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Helping Someone In An Abusive Relationship, Psychological Manipulation |
You used to clean up nicely. Later, I would be lucky if the t-shirt you threw on wasn’t slept on by a cat.
I hated when you would call me “baby” or “sweetheart.” It always seemed like such a default.
When I realized I was late calling you, I’d start agonizing over what you would say to me this time.
There are times I want to kick myself in the ass for ever getting lonely enough to talk to you that first night.
I tried to love you. I really did.
There just wasn’t anything there.
When I realized that I didn’t have any photos of the two of us together, relief was the resounding feeling.
I expected everyone to say “I told you so.” They didn’t. But they did listen. Endlessly. Thank you.
Every fight, I was waiting, wondering when that first punch was going to be.
Wondering if the punch would ever come was worse than if you would have just gone ahead and hit me.
I cowed down to you for reasons that I haven’t been able to figure out yet.
I stood up to you for reasons I never should have lost in the first place.
Late night, injured, hysterical, drunk phone calls? No.
Stalking my every move that you can find? No.
Just because I left before your fist finally got sick of hitting everything/everyone else, doesn’t mean it wasn’t abuse.
You made me ask for money that you offered me. Promised me. Money that I did not ask for. That I did not want. That I would not have needed if not for you.
Looking back now, a tent on the corner of the street would have been preferable.
You took my friends.
You took my ideas.
You tried to take my identity.
Lucky for me, I’m a stubborn bitch.
You said things, did things, made up things (and continue to do so) that I refuse to waste any more thought or time on.
I walked away from them.
I walked away from you.
With a limp and a smile.
The only time you’re happy is when you’re the superior in the relationship. When you can make the other person feel inadequate.
Regardless of what you think, there was/is absolutely nothing I want to learn from you.
It’s taken me close to a year to get even marginally back to the person I was before I got tangled up in the mess that is you.
I finally see what I’m capable of.
That thread between us? The one and only thing we share? I’m making it my life’s goal that she is never made to feel like or to think that she is nothing. Minuscule. Worthless if not by someone’s side, obedient like a pet.
She will be better than you.
Better than me.
I am making sure that she will never be in the position that I was in with you.
Ever.
by Band Back Together | Sep 23, 2010 | Abuse, Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Helping Someone In An Abusive Relationship, Psychological Manipulation |
Dear Girlfriend #3,
I wish I could give you this warning in person, but I know that you would confront your new boyfriend about it. And if he found out that I warned you, I wouldn’t be here at all…
That being said, there are some things you need to know.
Your new boyfriend is abusive. He will not show you that now. I didn’t see it until about three months into our relationship. I am sure he has told you about his ex-wife and I. How we are “crazy” and “evil.” I’m sure he has told you how badly we have fucked up his life and broke his heart.
Please take this opportunity to look him up online, in every capacity you can conceive.
He has had two restraining orders filed on him. He is registered as a batterer at four different domestic violence shelters in this state – those are just the ones I am aware of.
I had to move a state away to hide from him.
He is charming and he is handsome. He will make promises that he will never keep. His family enables his abusive behavior and will never turn on him if you say something. They have, and will continue to, sit idly by while he hurts you.
Stay away from him when he is drunk as that is when he is the worst. He will humiliate you, degrade you, and do whatever he feels is appropriate while he is inebriated.
I’m sorry I can’t tell you this directly. I wish there was more I could do without risking my own personal safety.
Watch for the red flags. The weird text messages, the unusual possessiveness and questions about your friends and whereabouts. Question his previous relationships and what happened. Try and talk to his exes.
See what you find out.
We’re on the same team, you know. Womankind and all of that. It took me years to get out and it will take me years to heal. You don’t deserve that.
Nobody does.
Sincerely,
Girlfriend #2
by Band Back Together | Sep 23, 2010 | Coping With Domestic Abuse, Divorce, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Psychological Manipulation |
October 15, 1999. That was the day my life changed. At the time, I thought it was for the better. Eleven years later, I know it was the beginning of a slow, painful, downward spiral.
That was the day I started dating the “man of my dreams.” He was tall and handsome and the captain of the football team. As a high school sophomore, he was everything a girl could ask for in a boyfriend.
The first 2 years were great. We went to sporting events and parties. We were the stereotypical high school sweethearts. Our senior year we split up. The breakup didn’t last long. Soon he was begging me to come back and I did. He went off to college in a different state, but we still tried to make it work.
Over the next 4 years we broke up and made up quite a bit. I told myself this was due to the college lifestyle. I tried to convince myself that girls flocked to him because he was a college football player. Those excuses I made would lead me into years of hiding my misery with excuses.
In February 2006 he proposed. It was probably the worst proposal imaginable. I was in bed, covered in hives from an allergic reaction. He sat on the end of the bed, handed me a box and said, “You’re gonna be my wife”. Now that I look back on it, it completely lacked any romance and was more of a command than a proposal.
In June 2006, he graduated, moved back home and I started planing the wedding. These plans were short lived because shortly after his return we split up again. He could not put the college life behind him and would stay out all night to party. Once again we made up and on February 18, 2007, we were married.
There was no “honeymoon” period. We started having problems the first week of our marriage. We argued constantly. He lived a completely separate life from me. But, I was expected to be home at all times.
After the first year, the relationship came crashing down pretty quickly. He had been caught numerous times “talking” to other women. He started to control my life completely. He decided who I could be friends with, when I could go out and where I could go. He would degrade me and soon my self esteem was so low that I started to question everything about myself.
It wasn’t until I met up with an old friend and started discussing the situation that I realized it was emotional abuse. He was manipulating everything in my life for one sole purpose – to control me! I decided to put my foot down, to take a stand and hold my ground. This only helped to confirm that abuse I had been tolerating for so long.
During one fight in May 2009, I told him I was done listening to him and that I was going to leave. He took my car keys and cell phone. I told him I would walk to my mother’s house, which was right around the corner. He stood in front of the stairs and blocked me from leaving. He called 911 and told the operator that his wife was overdosing and to send an ambulance. I was in shock. What was happening?
When the police arrived, he refused to answer the door. When I answered and spoke to the cop he said “you don’t look like you’re overdosing.” I told him I most definitely was not. The cop called the dispatcher and canceled the ambulance. After the cops left, I asked him why he did that. His response sickened me. He said “I just thought it would be funny to see them pump your stomach.” At this very moment, I realized what a sick and dysfunctional person he was.
All this time I had been blind. I made excuses to hide my pain. Somewhere deep inside me, he was still the captain of the football team, the man of my dreams. I didn’t let myself see the selfishness, deception, and manipulation. I made excuses over and over. Not for him but for me. I tried to convince myself he was someone else. The man of my dreams.
On June 23, 2009, he moved out and filed for divorce. He had lost his control and he couldn’t accept it. He did not want a relationship with someone who could stand up for herself.
For years I have thought to myself, ”Why can’t I have a do-over?” Why can’t I go back to the first break-up and never look back. Well, this past year has not been easy. It has been the hardest time of my life. Through all the court and lawyers and chaos he still tries to control me. He tries to have the upper hand and make all of the agreements. Everything is a battle. But this time I am holding my ground and standing up for myself!
I am proud to say that I have my “do-over”. I am dating my best friend and everyday he shows me what a real man, a real relationship, is like. He amazes me with his support and understanding. He builds up my confidence instead of tearing it down. After years of living in the dark and not knowing myself, my eyes have been opened and it is my time to shine!
by Band Back Together | Sep 19, 2010 | Abuse, Adult Children of Mentally Ill Parents, Child Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Divorce, Domestic Abuse, Mental Health, Psychological Manipulation |
She left him this morning while he was at church. My brother drove five hours to come and take her to stay with his family. After seven years, she finally got up the courage and bailed. I have never been more proud of her than I am in this moment.
She left the abuse, the control, the hate, the mind games. She left the drugs, the crime, the lies and the stealing. She left him for going through her things and screaming at her every day. She left him for punching her in her sleep when she snored. She left him for telling her when she could or couldn’t eat or leave the house or come visit me and her granddaughter. She just… left.
She left.
History has a way of repeating itself, especially when it comes to relationships. And her history has been on repeat since 1970. Every man she has ever been with has treated her like the scum of the earth: my dad, her boyfriend of 10 years (after divorcing my dad), and now him. I would be lying if I said I thought none of this was her fault because she chose this. She has continually chosen this, but that doesn’t mean she deserves it. Nobody deserves this.
Her bouts with mental illness have plagued her for most of her adult life. It’s like the men she chooses know that she is weak. They prey upon those who seem to “need some help.”
My mother has been homeless on the streets, homeless in shelters, fed by soup kitchens, and by the kindness of strangers. She’s been in and out of mental hospitals and failed relationships more times than I can remember. She has been raped, assaulted, kidnapped and abandoned on the side of the road in her underwear in a blizzard. And through all of that, she lived. She lived through it.
But today? She finally ended it on her own. She didn’t wait to be kicked out or told that he was done with her. She didn’t wait to end up in a hospital or shelter or on the side of the road… or worse. She left on her own, by her own free will. She didn’t wait until she was no longer strong enough to go.
I always used to tell her the analogy of the frog in the pot: If you throw a frog into pot of boiling water, he will instinctively know that the water is too hot and leap out. But if you put a frog in a pot of cool water, and gradually increase the temperature, he won’t notice that things aren’t right, and will let you boil him alive and kill him. She was that frog. The one who started out in a relationship being wined and dined and showered with gifts. But soon those things started to go away, and slowly the little jabs at her self-esteem became major blows, both mentally and physically. She didn’t notice… or maybe she did but soon nothing became shocking; nothing “burned” her.
I asked her this morning what finally made her snap. She said she heard them talking outside her door when they thought she was asleep plotting how they would “off her.” Whether it’s the illness talking, or the truth, I will never know. And it does not matter.
She left.
She is free.
I am so proud of you, Mom.
by Band Back Together | Sep 19, 2010 | Abuse, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Coping With Anxiety Disorders, Emotional Abuse, Generalized Anxiety Disorder Resources, Preventing Child Abuse, Psychological Manipulation |
I carry too much pain. The person who birthed me didn’t want me and told me I was worthless, from a young age, as early as I can remember. There are not words enough to describe the amount of negativity that was heaped on me for so many years. And there is no way to describe how deeply embedded in my psyche is the pain. Without even getting into the physical abuse, I’m already too full of pain to comprehend it.
When I first started having panic attacks, first experienced that all-consuming terror, I wondered why it was all so damned familiar. I couldn’t comprehend why I felt like I knew this, recognised it… WHY? And then I realized that I had felt like this before; for all the years that I was abused I felt this constant terror, in a muted sense. It got to the point where I was utterly used to it, similar to how you become habituated to the whirring of the fan or the sound of the rain. It was there, but I didn’t really notice, almost took it for granted. It’s been there ever since, and last night it all blew up in my face. Again. Suddenly I was four years old again, and totally immobilized by abject terror. I took my Ativan, but it didn’t seem to be working. It was still there, spreading slowly through my mind, causing me to shake with such force that my muscles were aching with the strain of it.
Then I remembered the words, the only antidote to mental suffering is physical pain, so I dug my fingernails deep into my skin. I hoped that I could focus on the pain, that I could somehow start to breathe again, that I would survive. And I can’t help but think that it’s not fair… I shouldn’t have to live like this. Ambushed by fear I can’t see or name. The kind of thing that creeps in at 4 am when sleep would be such sweet relief, but closing my eyes just isn’t an option.
This is the aftermath of child abuse that nobody can truly understand unless they have been there themselves. How can you pick up the pieces of an ordinary life you never really knew? How do you move on? It’s been so many years. I wish I could say, “I am OK,” but I can’t. It is a long, difficult road to being OK.
I hate being this person. I hate living on this roller coaster, with no warning when the track is going to plunge into darkness. I hate not being able to breathe, not being able to see clearly, not being able to believe that things will ever get better. I hate that I sound like this. I hate that I am ashamed to write these words. I hate that I’m afraid someone will find out.
What if I really am worthless and unlovable?
