Posts tagged abuse
Posts tagged abuse
He says that his workplace is purposely sending young girls across his path at places like the bank, the grocery store or even in restaurants so that they can build a false case against him as some kind of pedophile. Being my only contact with my family, my dad now keeps his phone turned off nearly 24/7 because it’s “so obvious“[ly] bugged.
He says that the guys in security at his workplace follow him everywhere. He doesn’t like to go out in public as often.
My friend says the stress of taking care of my ridiculously dependent and psychotic family, age, his heart attack and a lot of other things must be contibuting to this severe paranoia. Just when I thought my sister was 10x more than fine, she turns schizo. When I know my dad is okay because obviously, mental illness isn’t in his family line, this winds up happening.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland. To top it off, just before I left to come back to my College-Town, my brother winds up going to a psych ward for attempting to kidnap his own child, having beaten my little brother [who was babysitting] up in the process.
Me and my little brother, so far, are the only ones who appear sane in this large family. Little do they know that I’ve been extremely suicidal for half my life and I have no idea if it’s because I’m crazy too, or if my family situation/child neglect would genuinely be a devastating problem for any human being to deal with. I hate that mormon families have overwhelming amounts of children. If only they knew what choices like that can mean if responsibility slips period, or even at the slightest form of mental illness. There is nothing more painful than feeling alone and like the only freak in a room full of people.
I’m learning how to associate more humor into the disconnect between me and my dad. I wish it were some obviously untrue melodramatic ‘wahh nobody cares’ thing, but it’s scary when, literally, the only contact I have with my family is a 6-minute call about once or twice a month from my dad. (I can never get a hold of him when I call)
My parents were married in their thirties, had children and bought a (once) nice home for themselves and we were all still severely neglected. (Granted, mental illness was involved in the parenting) I’m already seeing girls from my highschool and (obviously) my sister who’ve done the dirty a little too early show signs of neglect/abuse toward their own children.
Understandably, a lot stems from the emotional/financial stresses of being a single mother. Getting pregnant before 18 means forfeitting nearly a decade of independent living/learning, possible college life/degrees and more dating experience. It means clocking a couple/a lot more years into your hometown after graduation. It means having a hell of a time finding a babysitter/PAYING the babysitter and (possibly) ruining relationships because of it. It means maybe not having the best support from your parents, and sometimes your friends. It means having a ton of (court or emotional) crap go down with the father. For my sister especially, It means dating the loser guys who fizzled out/stayed behind after the graduation pool and only want sex, money or your pot. (Which may, also like my sister, lead to more babies)
The upcoming generation of kids coming from the (specifically unsuccessful, because I’ve seen a few adjust profoundly well) teen moms/16-and-pregnant starlettes might be carrying more trauma than a lot of us can imagine.
I see it happening to my neices and nephews and I can’t call social services because the foster care system ensures that the chances are extremely existent they’d be abused all over again. I was so close to calling last december until I started to read forums online of adults who were in the system their whole childhood. (Some witnesses/victims to child rape)
It feels like there’s really nothing I can do, but be a good aunt. I can’t be their mother, and I wouldn’t try to if I was given the opportunity. That’s not my responsibility. I’m broken enough as it is and I’m still learning to be dependent on myself. I personally condemn my grandparents for not trying harder to see what was going on with their grandchildren. I wished somebody had found out so I could’ve been taken away, and given to good parents. But that sounds like a stupid fairytale, and in all actuality, it sort of is, especially now that I’m an actual witness and I have no idea what to do.
I hate that whole endless cycle of abuse statistic. It’s terribly true. :/ Which only makes me nervous to have kids in the future.
I went home to visit this past weekend. It was not very good. If I could tell Dr. Malcolm what it’s like seeing my family, this is exactly what I would’ve expressed.
I also found out that my 24-year-old sister/’million-dollar single mother’ managed to leave her 1 year old alone considerably long enough to pry open, tip over, roll in and consume paint thinner. Thankfully, poison control was able to help and the baby survived. (Thank goodness she even thought to call poison control)
My home is haunted by empty careless people who obliterate any love and confidence that comes within ten feet of them. I’ve felt guilty for not loving them more for the longest time, but I think I’m learning that that’s okay. And that sometimes… that’s okay with God.
I’ve started working out everyday/every other day and I think it’s changed something about myself… chemically.
It used to be easy to let my heart drop miserably into my stomach as a result of the self-inflicted thought that I was alone, unlovable, and a complete and utter failure. It worked when a friend wasn’t available to hang out, or when I had just received a bad grade or when, especially, I compared my family and parents to my friends’ families. It was the most immediate way to channel the stress/pain that occurred within my trials, and from my daily troubles of life. This endless cycle seemed like all I could do at the time.
But since I’ve started working out consistently, I can’t even muster up one lousy sniffle.
It’s unbelievably miraculous the psychological changes that have recently taken place. I feel somewhat formidable in the presence of those who once made me shrink in inferiority. I don’t feel sorry for myself throughout the day, or sorry for the facets of my family… I don’t constantly pine for the embrace of a loving mother or the functionality of a structured family. I can’t place a single searing thought into my heart except it be for the anxiety in expanding my wisdom/faith of the Gospel, for the preparedness of the U.S. Air Force, and for keeping up with my ever-exhausted dad.
This scene in Watchmen illustrates the unseeming coincidence that is our existence. No matter the circumstances of our lives, we each have an eternal purpose that reflects the magnificence of our worth.
Mortality is a period of testing, a time to prove ourselves worthy to return to the presence of our Heavenly Father. In order to be tested, we must sometimes face challenges and difficulties. At times there appears to be no light at the tunnel’s end—no dawn to break the night’s darkness. We feel surrounded by the pain of broken hearts, the disappointment of shattered dreams, and the despair of vanished hopes. We join in uttering the biblical plea ‘Is there no balm in Gilead?’ (Jeremiah 8:22).
We are inclined to view our own personal misfortunes through the distorted prism of pessimism. We feel abandoned, heartbroken, alone. If you find yourself in such a situation, I plead with you to turn to our Heavenly Father in faith. He will lift you and guide you. He will not always take your afflictions from you, but He will comfort and lead you with love through whatever storm you face.
“Growing up in any family can be challenging at times, but there are often special problems and challenges for families in which one or several family members have a mental illness. Members of these families often have to deal with instability or unpredictability. Often there is confusion in family roles, and children or other family members may have to take over many of the adult responsibilities, such as taking care of younger brothers and sisters or managing household duties normally managed by adults. They may even have the responsibility of taking care of the emotional or physical needs of their parents. Children and other family members in these situations do not always receive the care and nurturing they need. They may feel ashamed to talk about their situation with others and consequently may withdraw from relatives or friends who could help them or support them. Often unable to articulate their needs, even to themselves, these individuals frequently feel isolated and alone.”
Individuals who cope with chronic and severe mental illness in the family may also experience other difficulties outside of their family-of-origin relationships. These may include:
This winter break, I’m home again until January 17th. Last winter break was okay, but when my friends left to go back to school in the middle of it all, I was completely alone for 2 weeks. I managed, but it wasn’t fun.
Well this time, it’s even worse because I don’t have a room. My 30 year old brother moved back in with my parents and took my old room last summer. I sleep on the couch and I have no where to put my things. I live out of my suitcase. My sister and her 3 year old get up super early and she doesn’t watch him so he comes running out into the living room, screaming and sometimes (to his amusement) attacking me. My mp3 player mysteriously dissappeared around here… I can’t go anywhere, but outside in the cold whenever the fights start happening.
For some reason, we don’t have a kitchen table anymore. When my sister moved in, she left all of her stuff out and around the house and now I’m being forced to paint and clean both of the rooms she and her kids are supposed to stay in. She refuses to help and claims that she is too busy, but clearly not busy enough to stand in front of the mirror and work on her foundation or hair for an hour while her kid runs around unwatched.
Nobody has cleaned here in months. We don’t have a door knob on the bathroom door. It looks like somebody ripped it out of the wall. (Probably my other brother before he and my sister switched places) Nobody likes to take out the trash here or clean their own dishes, so it piles up until somebody takes responsibility; … Me.
For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
I used to think it did even out and that it provided an adequate substitute for the attention, normalcy and acceptance that one should recieve in their own families on a daily basis. But as painfully tortuous as it sounds to me…. friends aren’t always a daily basis in life.
Friends come and go. They don’t always have to like you. Sometimes they don’t want to talk to you for days and sometimes you’ll be their last resort on the weekends. Some friends only want to text you and never call while others prefer lunchdates every two weeks. If you’re lucky, you manage to find ones that decide to hang out with you as often as immediately convenient for them.
Your family has an obligation to love, care and support you… But friends don’t.
And…. thats perfectly fair.
It’s just… the setup that’s messed up. The imbalance. It’s not anyone’s fault that my family is selfish, abusive and comprised of mentally unstable persons/drug addicts. It’s not anyone’s obligation to stand in and help fulfill that area of personal loneliness. As a bonus, my family problems are extremely overwhelming/oftentimes aboslutely helpless and seem to arrive as one big pity party. This is an independent battle of which no person can immediately help, except for (maybe) a therapist and most importantly, myself.
It’s just really hard when even the slightest piece of honest rejection coming from a trusted friend hits me because they are, literally, all I’ve got. So much so that I become physically sick and I feel like I want to run as far away as possible. This, combined with the despair of my familiy situation, contributes to that horrifying, wretched wave of suicidal thoughts.