by Band Back Together | Jan 4, 2016 | Codpendence, Depression, Emotional Abuse, Psychological Manipulation, Stalking |
I would just like to start off by saying I am majorly, supremely, unbelievably fucked up. Now that that’s understood, I always got what I wanted. Since the time I could walk, I could manipulate people. I’ve always understood thought processes and emotions, and I guess that paired with the fact that I had a natural talent for bribery and puppy dog faces resulted in a little girl who didn’t know the meaning of the word “no”. I did know pain, though.
My parents divorced when I was two, and I grew up spending 50% of the time with an extremely abusive (emotionally and verbally but NOT physically) mother, until I was 12 and realized I’d had enough. I cut her out of my life and have seen her very few times since. You see, I did what I wanted. I got what I wanted. I didn’t mean for the lie to become so huge. It started one day in science class, my friend and I were comparing problems and fighting over who had it worst, as preteen girls tend to do. Well, the problem with emotional abuse is that even though it hurts, it doesn’t hold a lot of punch on paper. My friend didn’t believe that I had it bad (but believe me, I DID), so I did what many girls would have done: I lied. I said that she hit me, my mom, and my stepdad too. I justified it to myself in that it wasn’t far from the truth, the things they did to me hurt as much as punches, after all. And after that, my friend comforted me, pitied me, and never questioned my pain again. I got what I wanted.
After I realized that all I had to do to get affection was stretch the truth, I did it with everyone. I never saw it as a problem, justifying it as I explained before, until one day I met a girl and I took it way too far. The Sister, as I’ll call her, was someone I met who soon became the most important person in my life for two years. Unfortunately, she was one of the people to whom I told the lie. In later years, I often wished I could take it back, and wondered if anything would have been different if I had. Would I have gotten what I wanted? The Sister came in to my life when I was in the deepest pit of my self-inflicted depression from the situation with my mother. You see, I had become addicted to the affection I was receiving, and had spiraled out of control creating more reasons for people to pity me. The Sister came and “fixed” me, helped me to stop cutting myself (a habit I had taken up), and even mostly out of my depression (at the time I didn’t realize that’s what it was).
In the next few years we became inseparable, talking every day. She was ten years older and I saw her as a mother, a sister, and a best friend. I considered her opinion fact on everything, and consulted her on every event that took place in my life, not once stopping to think that maybe a 23 year old wasn’t on a place to mother a preteen/teenage girl, because hey, I got what I wanted. That’s all that mattered. And now the story gets interesting… I’m not at liberty to share her secrets, but The Sister had a lot of “problems” of her own she was dealing with, and as I grew up I started becoming a moody teenager, and took it out on the parent I depended on most: her. Needless to say, the combination of both of these factors and the fact that we were both drama queens, led to a very unhealthy relationship. Not just unhealthy. Toxic. I won’t go into the details because it still hurts too much, but I’m sure you can imagine the fights, the codependency, the stalking.
I didn’t know what to do, I was losing the person that mattered most to me on the whole world, and I tried every kind of abuse to force her to stay with me. I had to get what I wanted. And then, one day, after years of getting everything my heart desired, I didn’t. She found out that I had lied to her, and she gave up. Obviously, that wasn’t the only reason, but I sometimes wonder what it would be like now if our relationship hadnt been formed on a lie.
Of course, it left me all kinds of broken when she ended our friendship (I phrase it as “one day” but really it was quite a messy process), but in the end I’m thankful. Because that’s when my story begins. For a few months, everything was black. For those of you who have read the Twilight Saga, it was like the part in New Moon where every page was a month. Time flew and I felt nothing; there goes November, December, January. I did a lot of stupid things to try to make myself feel, things like drinking, drugs, and stealing. Needless to say, the only results this gave me were being grounded more often than not. But then, in about February, or March (it’s kind of a blur…), I started to heal. With the help of my friends, and family (both amazing, wonderful people whom I am blessed to have in my life), I started to build my own person. The Sister had made up my character, choices, and opinions before, and now I was left with nothing.
It’s still an ongoing process, reforming my whole person, but I’m proud of myself so far (especially my kickass style). I haven’t talked to her yet, The Sister. I hear bits and pieces about her sometimes. Usually those days aren’t very good. But luckily I’m now at the point where I can wish her the best. I don’t know what life holds for us, in terms of a relationship. I know it’s not just up to her, or me, it’s up to God. I know there’s a lot of things we’re going to have to talk about one day, but I know that day won’t come for years (if not just because we’re not ready, but also that I’m not allowed to talk to her until I’m 18). In a perfect world, after that day, when we’re both older and independent, we’ll be able to begin some sort of….civility, and maybe eventually a friendship. But if not, she’ll always be My Sister. I’m not sure why I wrote this. Maybe in hopes that she’ll read it (she introduced me to this site), maybe in hopes that it’ll help me move on. Maybe so that someone out there can relate to the loss I went through. Just kidding. That’s a total lie. I’m just hoping she’ll read it. I love you, Sister. I really do.
by Band Back Together | Dec 12, 2015 | Anxiety, Body Acceptance, Body Image, Eating Disorders, Family, Fear, Feelings, How To Help With Low Self-Esteem, Obesity, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem, Shame |
So I have recently started this “lifestyle change.”
If I call it a “diet,” I will fail miserably as I have a thousand other times. I try really hard to watch what I eat. Most days I keep a nifty online journal that tells me how many calories I can have and how many I’ve consumed. It’s really been helpful. Tonight, I even walked two and a half miles, which is awesome for me. I’m still sitting here sweatin’ my balls off!
It’s HARD not to get discouraged. The last three weeks I have pretty much stuck to eating 1600 calories, which means that I should lose about two pounds a week. I have only lost two pounds altogether and depending on the time of day that I weigh myself, I haven’t even lost that.
I know everyone is different and all that jazz. I know I shouldn’t weigh myself all the time. I know I have been drinking almost a gallon of water a day to fight hunger. I know I should walk more. I know what I should know.
I know I will lose the weight. I know I need to. I have gained almost 100 pounds since high school and there’s no reason for that. Yes, I had three children, I have a stressful job and a hard marriage. Still, not a good excuse. I really think I’m more disappointed in myself for listening to all the excuses and letting my weight get so out of control.
I have a constant fight with my reasoning. If I eat just one more bite, it won’t hurt. I have to finish my whole plate or I will be wasting money.
My whole life I thought that I was fat because family always said I was. Once, I asked for a snack and my mom replied “and you wonder why you’re so fat.” I was only 10. But looking back at pictures, I see I wasn’t fat, I was beautiful. Maybe if my family and kids at school hadn’t been cruel, I would have cared about how I looked. Then maybe I wouldn’t have been so discouraged. Now that I have friends who encourage me, I know that I can do it. I can lose this weight.
It’s up to me now. I have to get myself out of this mess. It’s going to be a long, hard journey. I will probably fail – I usually do. I’m going to try really hard not to. I have awesome support group this time. I will exercise my self-control. This will be a journey of hits and misses. I cannot and will not get discouraged.
I really need to get hot for Aunt Becky’s cruise (ed note: WOO-HOO!). I need to be able to wear a swimsuit in the Bahamas and not look like a beached whale.
100 lbs. That’s all.
I cannot wait to know what it feels like 100 pounds lighter. That’s a whole person. Somewhere, I will find the willpower.
And I will do it!
by Band Back Together | Nov 17, 2015 | Abortion, Abortion Recovery, Hospice, Rape/Sexual Assault, Trauma |
I saw the lights on the ceiling. I felt the tear. The nurse held my hand with saintly love as I sobbed. A part of me died in that moment, a ripple through the eons.
I was 21 and a newly graduated nurse when I went through my abortion and had landed a prestigious hospital job. My mum was accidentally pregnant at the time at 40 with my brother who I later helped to deliver with the midwife (after I had undergone my abortion)
I freaked out. I couldn’t move back home in a small town with a pregnant mother. My boyfriend said he wasn’t ready for a child and we couldn’t afford it (I later discovered he was wealthy and had not been honest with me). He was living far away at the time going to university.
As he slept in my room one night at the nursing quarters against the rules of no men, we were discussing what to do. I got caught with him in my room and I was kicked out by the nun. Pregnant, I went to house hunt by day after my night shift work. The nun who found us gave me one week to find a place after I begged her. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t tell a soul.
My boyfriend booked a hotel for the week as I was homeless and I went through with the abortion. I didn’t want to go through with it but I was so scared, alone and overwhelmed. I always said I would have a child if I accidentally became pregnant, but I just didn’t realize what it was actually like to be in that position.
The first doctor I approached rejected to care for me due to his religious beliefs so I had to hunt for a doctor who would.
I went to get counselling afterwards and was paired with another religious man who rejected me so I had to keep searching for help. I gave up.
I went back to work and it was a very hard year. I saved a few lives and I decided to work in hospice to become more familiar with death. I nurtured people through their losses.
Many hard, lonely years accompanied me with multiple instances of sexual assault and trauma I started to have difficulties coping. I always comforted myself with the idea that losing a child to help others may be excusable as a choice but when I left my career, in those last days I sat down by my friends nieces side who was losing her new baby that had just been born. It was dying in her arms and her tears dropped on that babies face. I watched that baby die as I said goodbye to my career. She didn’t know of my past and now I hear she wants to be a nurse. The chain continues.
My whole family said I was always the mothering, nurturing type and I would have the most kids. I am childless and not married. Tortured by bad memories. Too lost for words.
You don’t forget but you learn to live with it. Its a silent shame for me but I see now with my history of abuse I needed to feel some control over my body. I don’t feel it was the answer now, and in retrospect I would like to say I had all this courage to stand up to this invisible community who bad mouthed people but I was a young vulnerable frightened girl. While I was being accused of being a baby murderer I was saving their lives in hospital.
I think now about it more in philosophical ways. The things we should terminate in our minds and and how a new beginning can start for us to live a happier life. My God believes in redemption and love.
by Band Back Together | Nov 13, 2015 | A Letter I Can't Send, Blended Families, Coping With Divorce, Divorce, Emotional Abuse, Estrangement, Family, Loss, Psychological Manipulation |
Dad-
I don’t think that I can ever forgive you. I want to so badly, but I don’t think that I can. We’ve come through so much together. You didn’t have to be there for me; you didn’t have to be my father. You didn’t have to love me. You chose to. You chose me. You chose me for a long time. I hate that you let things change. I hate that you were so blind to what was happening around you. I hate the words that you said to me.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.
I want my dad back. I want the man who loved me despite my illnesses, despite what my birth certificate said, despite all the shit I put you through.
I hate you for choosing a woman over your daughter time and time again. I hate you for it, but after many years, I forgave you.
I forgave you for it, but I stopped putting up with it. I will never forgive you for the actions that you took once I put my foot down. I hate you for saying those horrible things about me. I hate you for saying them about my mother. I hate you for not realizing that both of us were, and are, suffering from mental illnesses. I hate that you look away. I hate you for placing all of the blame on me. You say that your wife has done nothing wrong? You clearly are also suffering from some sort of mental illness.
You are the most passive man I’ve ever known. That used to be something that I loved about you. But it seemed so easy for you to tell me that you were done with me. That you couldn’t have a relationship with me. That you were once and for all choosing your wife over you daughter.
Do you feel anything at all?
Did this choice hurt you like it hurt me?
I’ve listed a million things that I hate about you, but I could just as easily list a million that I love. Those things will never change. I will also love the man that you were, just as you will love the girl that I was. But we will never have the relationship we once had. No matter what happens, I can never forget the words. They are scars on my soul. I think about them everyday.
Your words were horrible. They were not words that would ever come from the man I knew. I’ve done some digging, some looking around and I’ve learned a lot about you. I’m amazed at the things you’ve said and done. I guess you were just sheltering me. Now I know the real you. I don’t like that person. You said that if I didn’t change, you couldn’t have a relationship with me. I’m saying the same to you. Just know that even if you do, I will never trust you again. I can’t.
Of all the people in my life, I never expected to lose you. It is a loss that I will never recover from.
by Band Back Together | Nov 5, 2015 | Abandonment, Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Borderline Personality Disorder, Compulsive Shopping, Guilt, Shame, Substance Abuse |
I’m not a “real” addict, though. I’m just irresponsible, immature, and emotionally unstable and that’s why I spent my entire inheritance on makeup, perfume, clothing, nail polish, and food.
No, that’s not true.
I am a real addict.
Just like the alcoholic, the substance abuser, the gambler… I’m a shopper. I am a compulsive shopper. Shopping is my drug of choice.
And just like every other addict, my addiction causes me fear, guilt, and shame. It’s alienated me from friends, family, and even other addicts with whom I worked to get better. It didn’t fill up the hole inside of me like I thought it would.
As a diagnosed borderline personality disorder patient, who has parents who essentially abandoned me as a child (and yes, it really is possible to abandon someone and their needs and still live in the same house), I started accumulating things as soon as I had money of my own.
My father, who was – and still is – extremely successful and well-off, never taught me how to work with money and live companionably with it. Instead, it was something to be feared, revered, untouchable.
I can’t control my addiction, and although I know that this shopping addiction is there, I don’t know how to stop it.
My name is Sam, and I’m an addict.