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Growing up, I had not the best circumstances and would dream about being able to move out and be whatever I wanted to be. My grandma was constantly telling me that the rapture would be here any day and the world was ending. My sister and I would laugh whenever she did because she is just a narcissist who can't image the world going on without her. Once I was finally able to move out and be an adult, I remember thinking "Now what? I didn't think I'd make it this far?" And I always thought it was because my dad used to tell me he never thought he would live past 18, but now I'm realizing we all probably have some religious trauma and rapture anxiety and that's why no one in my family thinks in the long term or thought they would live to an adult age.
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Look at this... 👀
Look at this... 👀 https://pin.it/DGtho7f
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Look at this... 👀
Look at this... 👀 https://pin.it/46Bnt5F
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I will break the cycle of abuse.
Generations of trauma.
It ends with me.
My children will feel safe in my arms.
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I told my husband something I don't even think I realized until I said it out loud. I hate that my mother and father let my grandmother raise us despite the fact that she abused my father. He knew what I would go through and still had the audacity to say "but you seemed happy". I wasn't happy, dad, you just ignored the problem until it involved the family you chose to raise. He let my mother endure the most abuse from her and still never said a word.
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Words hurt man. My Grandma (who raised us) said a lot of these to me and my sister. The most hurtful one by far was number 14 on this list. Be careful how you talk to your children.
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People only ever talk about trauma survivors being scared of men (which is totally valid btw), but what about us peeps who are deathly afraid of women? Those of us who can't stand to be in close range to old women? Those of us who are scared shitless by tall women? Those of us who aren't able to even look at any subcategory of women because of trauma? We exist too, and often we're belittled and mocked for being so afraid, while everyone understands and supports those afraid of men. Don't shame us, don't tell us to get over it, don't make fucking fun of it, we are not at fault for who we are afraid of.
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Past-emotionally abused culture is someone treating you nicely or smiling at you and you immediately have to barricade your emotions so you don’t get too attached to them or confuse it with romantic love.
It’s people genuinely showing romantic interest in you but you don’t notice or find any truth in it because genuine, pure liking of a person isn’t something that exists in your world because someone gave love a bad name.
It’s flirting with people confidently but not getting attached. Liking it when you don’t want them but they want you because it helps you regain power over feelings, for you to have some control. And then feeling incredibly guilty because power lust is what drove the person who hurt you, and goddammit they were right, telling you it was all your fault, you’re just as bad. It’s your fault.
It’s wanting touch but shriveling up at any gesture of it because your past relationships withheld any affection with you unless they were grooming you or trying to make you forget the things they did.
It’s struggling to put a label on any relationship you have because you forget what friends act like, talk like, feel like. What separates platonic from romantic? Typical arguments from abuse?
It’s knowing it’s easier and safer not to get too close to anyone but knowing that only makes you feel more starved for connection.
It’s jumping too fast into ‘best friendship’ because how long do these things take? Who decides?
It’s your skin burning and crawling because of touch starvation but not adequately having the skills nor resources to get what you need: connection. It’s straddling the line between self-preservation and withholding connection in fear or internalized anger or distrust in yourself.
It’s flinching at sudden movements and loud, angry voices because you know that could have been you, black-eyed and beaten. It’s being undermined because no physical scars could prove the hurt.
And of course, trying to get past the complete humiliation of being used and manipulated and strung along to finally tell someone, they question it. They don’t get it. They tell you it’s not abuse. Friends you thought had your back support your abuser and once again, friendship is not so simple and honest. You never get rid of that; knowing someone you trusted won’t trust you in your darkest moment, your most vulnerable moment.
It’s trying to talk things out but you have trouble justifying to yourself what the person did because you can’t remember. You can’t fucking remember a thing because it was so traumatic. Maybe they weren’t bad. Maybe it’s your fault.
You don’t get to choose what to forget. I can’t ever forget the way he said to me that he enjoyed hurting me, how it made him proud, but I forgot the face of my grandmother and the sound of her laugh because my brain checked out for a solid year.
The year she died.
It’s being too passive but being too aggressive. Wanting someone else to make decisions because you can’t for yourself and not letting anyone do anything for you because then they can use it to guilt you. Not being able to be angry and then being angry as goddamn hell because how could this happen to you.
It’s so much more than miscommunication and heartache. It leaves long-lasting PTSD like effects like physical abuse does. We need to make people aware of this.
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the worst part of being around my grandmother is waiting for the storm. no matter how calm and nice she seems to be in the moment, eventually she snaps and it all goes to shit. its so fucking stressful to just sit there and watch her be nice and kind and caring knowing that in just a few minutes itll all go away and be replaced by angry yelling and criticism and hatefulness because just for a second, things feel normal. just for a second, i think that maybe, just maybe things arent as bad as they are. but it never lasts
its just the calm before the storm
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“Macbeth: We’ll surely go to Hell for this. Lady Macbeth: And when do, we’ll rule that too.”
— Shakespeare (via: poetic-sanctum)
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