I hate it. I've been so tired of it for so long.
It is not temporary as some say.0 Comments
I could probably take up pages and pages of this, but I'm going to keep it short. About six years ago, I found out my dad was cheating on my mom. I knew it all along and I told her, but I guess she didn't want to believe it. I understand. I gave her solid proof and she finally believed it. It broke her heart and I couldn't stand to see her that way. We were both depressed. Of course she was more than me. I felt deceived too. I thought the one person who would never hurt me or my mom was my dad. He was supposed to set that example of what kind of guys are out there. A husband should never cheat on his wife. NEVER. The worst part was that woman was a close friend of the family. Backstabbing slut, right?
Unfortunately, my mom stayed with him. She tried to work out it until a couple months later, we found out there was yet another woman. Where do the deception and lies stop? It doesn't because, to this day, he's cheating. I know he is. I have proof. I'm tired of her being played, being lied to, being treated like she is nothing. My mom does everything for him and he appreciates nothing. She's not his wife, she's his maid. He doesn't love her, or he wouldn't treat her the way he does. It angers me so much to see her take it and let him do it. It's not my business, but it affects me. I'm her biggest support system. I hear her complain about him. I hear everything that's bothering her. I have no one to vent to so I just take it, but I can't ignore it.
Is it selfish of me to push her toward divorce? I want her to be happy. She already established that she wants it, but she's coming up with excuses not to go through with it. Should I just let her do what she wants, even if she's miserable?
I'm to that point of: either she leaves him, or I leave. I can't put up with it any longer.0 Comments
I have been living with guilt for two-thirds of my life. I thought it was just because I made bad choices, starting at age twelve. I never knew why my dorky, innocent life took a sudden turn at that age ...it must have been the heavy metal music's fault, like my naive Mormon parents always thought.
It wasn't until this week that I recognized what my neighbor did to me. That was the moment when everything changed in my life. It never occurred to me that he gave me sips of beer so that I would be confused and disoriented, and then told me what a bad, dirty girl I was so that I would be afraid to tell my parents. I didn't know I had been sexually molested. In my mind, I had filed the event away as just a "thing that happened" in my life, and it soon began blending in with all the other things that just "happened" to me. Things that even became my very own choices. Like when I "chose" to let a homeless man kiss me and touch my breast the next year because he shared his beer with me.
But now, nearly double those innocent 12 years later, the chaos becomes clarity. Like breaking a code that for decades looked only like a rebellious and angry child turned adult, and now, bright as day, is a key to understanding every single confusing and anomalous event that occurred since. A key to the anger. The self destruction. The self loathing. The comfort in pain, and in defiantly seeking out older men to take advantage of me, all in an attempt to prove to myself that I'm not a victim, that I'm in control.
I had taught myself to think that I was in control, and therefore had wanted him to touch me. I was twelve. He was my 35. Twelve. I knew as much about sex as I knew about Income Taxes. Moreover, I was convinced that my parents would blame me for everything ...seducing him, making him give me beer.
So I buried it. No, I didn't bury it, I ABSORBED it. I owned it, it became part of "who I am." A girl who wouldn't say no. A girl who defied the game of cat and mouse by wanting even MORE than the boys. I even visited him again when he'd come whispering at the back gate offering beer and secrecy. I was in control, I thought. No one can hurt me if that's what I want, right?
I never thought that my identity as a "dirty girl" was related to my neighbor's violation of me, this whole time I simply thought that's just who I was and the choices I made.
And now that I know? I feel so much relief, and so much gratitude that I finally have a reason to feel good about myself. I WAS a victim. It changed the course of my entire life, and it wasn't my choice.
Now I can make my own choices, and with some healing, start to feel like the good person I used to know I was, before he stole that from me.
Months out and the abuse is still happening,
I could list on my whole arm the different ways that I have been abused by my ex, she's just adding to that list as time goes on.does an abuser ever let go of their victim?
To date I am have been - and am still am - a victim of:
gender bias abuse,
abuse of trust,
gender biased false allegations.
and all of this intimate terrorism from the actions of a single person.
This list is still growing, I can't find the word for coercing others to abuse, threaten or commit violence on behalf of the abuser but I'm sure there will be one soon.
I am certain that my abuser will be their own undoing, they have left too much evidence and are continuing to abuse me in the public's eye now. They have even written a letter to a professional body whereby they display their hunger for power and control. The worst part is they believe this letter to be their "trump card."
I feel so sorry as they have laid out their own demise. all I have to do is wave it at the right time and say one magic sentence and their whole world will come crumbling down... but will I do that?
Because that would be sinking to their level.
Heads have already turned and looked into the facts that they have lied about. I am still trying to protect them from the damage that their past has caused. Their failure to see beyond tomorrow.
I wish that they would learn. I wish that they could see that what they have done is domestic violence. Can a person's conscience handle that? Can their inner worth be that low that they are oblivious to what they have done? Can they understand that this is the only individual who would of been there at the drop of a hat - had they asked?What will happen to them when they realise that I knew all along what they were doing to me and tried to look beyond that?
Will their heart break at their own actions? Will they feel pain the way my heart has every time I looked the other way and forgave them for all they have done.
I will never allow them the power that they have taken advantage of so many times. I will protect myself now.
but I will never do to them as they have done to me,
for"an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind"
and when no one can see, the future will fail.
half of the world is there now...blind...wanting revenge.
my abuser is a victim of that herself, trying to get revenge because I left to protect myself and took away her "play thing."0 Comments
You know, when I was first diagnosed with this illness, right as I was getting pregnant with Lucas, I instantly became an expert on it.
I read everything there was to read and even now I can spit it back out at you. The problem with telling you what Borderline Personality Disorder is, is that it is different for everyone.
When I was diagnosed, there are nine criteria and you had to meet seven of them to get the BPD diagnosis. Now you only need to have five of the following:The DSM IV–TR states that BPD is "A pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
When I was first diagnosed, of the nine criteria, seven needed to be met, which makes 36 different combos, and that’s assuming someone only meets seven of them. Nine more possible combinations if they meet eight. Plus, of course, those of us who meet all nine that’s another one. Add that all together and you have: 46 people in the same room who all have Borderline Personality Disorder, but none of them share the same combination of symptoms. And oh hey! You only have to meet five criteria now to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder? That’s even more combinations!
This room is getting crowded and none of us are alike!
And that list defines BPD? That’s ludicrous! It may diagnose this personality disorder, but doesn't define it. Doesn’t define us.
Then you have the nature versus nurture debate. There are those who suffered child abuse, neglect, or suffered from no real validation in childhood. Then you have those who suffered no ill-raising at all, but yet, something in their DNA predisposed them to have this illness and there was no way of preventing it.
Of course, most of us are a combo of the two.
We're told that we are the patients the field of psychiatry dread. We are difficult patients. We have a limited success rate. Yet there are those of us who are no different to treat than anyone else with a mental illness. Surely I’m not the only one. Granted, I have an amazing psychiatrist who allows me use my knowledge of the disorder coupled with my knowledge of myself to help treat me. Not everyone does.
We are told we have the emotional growth of a teenager. Oh, this is true, I suppose, but there are many ways this can play out. Emotions are intense things. Teenagers are no longer simply feeling their emotions, but they can name them and target their trigger. They are learning to be at one with their feelings while the process their emotions. Teens don’t deny them - they feel them. They let them shape who they are and who they become:“That man crushed my soul and made me feel vulnerable by being overly dominating. I don’t like that. I want someone who is more my equal. Maybe I want to try being the more dominating one in my next relationship.”
Teenagers learn from their emotions. If adults don’t at least do that much, they may remain a juvenile forever. I'm adult enough to know there is a time and place for it. Maybe not all with BPD do. Then again, some teenagers who do know how to save it for the right time and place, too. I’d like to think it’s an even spread for both groups.
We are manipulative, I’ll give you that. Some know how to use it for good. Some know how to use it for evil. Some use it for both. Or some try their best not to use it at all.
We are capable of being self-aware.
We have addictive personalities. I can’t argue that. But not all people who have borderline personality disorder are addicts. Nor are all addicts living with with borderline personality disorder. Some can cut themselves off from their addiction before it became a real problem. Some can’t do this, others are otherwise predisposed to suffer alcoholism whether they have BPD or not.
This is just the tip of the iceberg. Like the diagnostic criteria, there are so many ways this can go, so many people with BPD who aren’t the same. There is no one thing I can tell you that applies to all of us. Other than it’s a bad idea to try to “train us." (Don’t ask, I came across a site that made me want to puke. A lot. From a mental health professional. No, I’m not linking. She doesn’t need the site hits for her harmful hatred.)
People with borderline personality disorder can be taught. Many of us need it. What do we need to be taught? To recognize our behaviors. Coping mechanisms. How to allow ourselves to heal. Fine, maybe it is a training of sorts, but I assure you that is not what the hateful woman meant.
So I leave you, The Band, with the knowledge that if anyone tells you they can define BPD, they are either defining themselves or the borderline PD person in their life. Perhaps they are reciting a text-book.
But I assure you, we are anything but text-book.1 Comment