Abuse comes in waves. So does pain.
You spent months being civil with each other, kind even. They do things for you, buy you clothes, groceries, say nice things and ask about your day. And you start to forget. You start to feel guilty. Why did I hate them? Why was I angry? Why did I want to leave? That was awfully mean of me. They need me. If I leave, they'll be all alone.
Then it all comes crashing down. One little thing lights up the flames and sparks a reaction. It happens fast, but feels like it lasts a lifetime. They say "things they didn't really mean", they "let anger get the best of them", and you're at the receiving end, scared, alone and not able to react.
And you start to remember. You place this memory with all the others, like a bunch of crystal ornaments on a shelf. You start noticing the patterns. You even make excuses for them. I was too loud, too aggressive, too mean. I deserved it. I deserve this.
Hours later, when you're safe and sound in your room, the reaction finally hits. You cry and sob, you want to scream but know you can't. You want to leave but have nowhere to go. You have no choice but to stay put and feel the pain. The pain from this moment and all the others that preceeded it. The pain from all the chances you had to leave but didn't take. The pain from all the instances you believed they changed.
And you know, once they wake up, it'll be like it never happened. Kind words and kind gestures, all over again. And you have no choice but to play along, otherwise who knows what might happen.
Every week. Every month. Every year. A new little crystal ornament for my collection. A new memory for me to obsess over and try to prove to myself that it wasn't that bad, that I barely got hurt, that it could've been worse.
I wonder how long it'll take for the next ornament to arrive. I wonder if I'll have enough space for it on the shelve.
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Heyo guys!
Since my friend made a post about it, I figured I should make a separate post of it as well that could hopefully grab the attention of more of you out there. Especially since it's now not only become a recurrent issue for myself, but millions others like me; whose voices and pleas for help are often met with silence and no aid when it's needed more than ever.
My friend made this with the hopes it would get the attention of a lot of people. And the few that have so far responded, with boosting my signal, it's truly appreciated.
So, I figured I'd best give my story here.
For those who know me, they know that I've been through this before, not that long ago. For those that don't:
This isn't my first rodeo with my dad. This isn't his first offense, and I doubt it'll be his last. But, even my boyfriend commented that it's really like I'm Cinderella.
Which, would make my family Lady Tremaine and her daughters, Anastasia and Drizella.
Surprised?
Yeah, not the most fun people to have in your life as family, let alone be analogous to your own.
But, for at least my brother on the matter, he doesn't mean to intentionally be cruel- if anything, he is just trying to survive from becoming the next target. Which, I get entirely. I oftentimes do the same for when a fight breaks out between my bio father and my stepmom.
But, that's besides the point-- the fact that they are even akin to that family dynamic is absolutely atrocious.
I'm often seen as a black sheep in my nuclear family- a dark horse, a scapegoat, pariah, outcast; hell, I'm almost synonymous to fucking Bruno Madrigal from Encanto, with a little bit of even Luisa for that matter with how bad her anxiety is.
Sure, that sounds pretty awful, but that's like, a surface-level perspective of who I am and what I've been through. And I'm not gonna give you my whole life story here, but, as my grandma would always famously say:
So, here are the said facts (bullets are Bruno related, indents are Cinderella)-
People used to see me as a gifted child when I was little, y'know? Like, my talents had no bounds. My way of being so empathetic and friendly to even the most awkward stranger was renowned by my extended family. I was awkward with communication, and often was very blunt but honest when talking to people, but I was a happy kid. And it's not like I'm not seen for my talents now, but they're brushed to the side more now as an adult because "you can't be living in a fantasy".
Since my dad and stepmom started living together, I've been made to become the maid of the house, doing most chores because the boys won't do it and my stepmom is incapable of handling all the chores and dishes on her own, so she's dumped most things onto me as a "way of covering for part of your rent". Which, I still have to pay upwards of 660-880 a month for. For one small room and a bathroom. For wifi use. And I still have other bills to pay, like for my car, insurance, credit cards, and stuff like that.
It wasn't until I was starting in my teens that my dad saw me very differently. I would often lie to try and keep the peace, because I feared that telling the truth would only hurt everyone more.
I started failing in math; I never got a grade higher than a C-average after sixth grade, because the teacher that year not only made me look like an idiot, but several times painted me as a villain and treated me like I was evil. Simply for standing up for myself amongst a group of classmates who would often bully me
I have little to no privacy in my own room. The only time I do is when I sleep, and that's even temporary at best. My father will routinely inspect my room and if it's not meeting his standards, he has me clean it or threatens kicking me out onto the street because he won't let me live in this house if I can't "do what I am required to do in order to keep living here" shit I wish I actually wish I had recorded him saying fr
He's taken off my door several times in the past as a punishment for not "adhering to his rules"- not okay as a teenager, even more not okay as a fucking twenty-four year old adult
(literal screenshots from conversations with my dad below)
My bio dad started seeing me less as an honest and good person, because during my sixth grade years and beyond I'd struggle with being honest with myself, let alone my parents, about my personal and educational issues.
I've had to be the one to call out when things aren't right, and be shut down for it. I've been the one to call out my family's bullshit, only to get side-swept with the realization my perception of how they treat me is cuz they do believe something is inherently wrong with me for retaliating.
I'm often accused of mishearing things- like, my parents will say one thing, and then the next day, or weeks or months later, when I repeat that statement, they go and say "Oh, I never said that."
I've walked out of my parents' lives once. It only lasted two weeks, but I did have to take a step back from it all. Because I could see what it was doing to everyone in my family. And I love my family, despite their shit. But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna walk out again- in fact, I'm working on a way to do so.
I relate more to pets and small children and even teens than I do older people.
I still have anxieties and fears over my talents and what I'm capable of, thinking I'm not good enough or that it's just the same old thing. The difference is I know it's not, and I know I'm worth more than this.
I have always liked the color green, and it was always a more mysterious color more than an evil or menacing color.
I often have had foresight of future events and get deja by when they do happen. Though, other times I just notice things going awry and I try to warn others of like, a possibility that they don't want to accept.
I lost friends and people who I actually enjoyed being around because of how I was growing up, and it was until I became an adult that part of it wasn't even my fault. A lot of the kids noticed my parents and didn't want to be around that kind of behavior with adults, because they could sense what I couldn't at the time, which was that my parents' behavior towards me was absolutely uncalled for, and rather controlling.
I was only recently properly diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder and ADHD; but before then, as an adult, I had more difficulty talking. Difficulty expressing how I felt. Trouble with finances. Being in the right headspace. Being able to take a step back and be like "whoa, now hold on- pointing fingers at me is only going to point three right back at you, let's not assume shit here". And it took a lot of support from my support systems and my boyfriend- @constant-state-of-self-discovery - to get a truly more accurate diagnosis. Cuz I've had three different diagnoses over the years, with the third being my most accurate one but I digress
I have echolalia and repeat funny phrases, hum music, etc.
When my brother was born - and I hate to use this comparison, but - almost immediately he became the Golden Child of the family dynamic. I was ten when he was born- and yeah, that's unfair for a baby, toddler, and little kid. But flash forward to when he's a bigger kid, when he's in his pre-teen stage and now a fourteen year old, who's gotten more educational advantages than I was ever offered or even given when asked. Who has had more positive experiences with his parents than I ever did. Who got the chance to actually go to the highschool he wanted to without having to worry about who I was really zoned for. Who is getting to work on his passion and talents. Yeah, that's totally not favoritism there.
I draw. I write. I legitimately can see myself voice acting one day.
I have often proved my family members both right and wrong about things in their lives, but I'm still the bad guy. Interesting how that works.
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See, these are the facts that just have me relating to just Bruno and Cinderella alone, with how my life is. There's plenty of other shit to add on about my stuff, but that's enough dirty laundry to get the ball rolling.
The fact of the matter is this: I cannot live in such a place like this anymore. And if anyone can help, I'd seriously appreciate whatever cash, boosting, reblogging, sharing that can be done.
I'm tired of living a life like this. I want to move forward. I want to start my next chapter, away from abuse.
And I'm really hopeful for the first time ever that something good might come out of this.
(thank you @savythenillerwaffer , @nystiaa , @oswinunknown , and @anne-of-crows for reblogging along with the others who have spread the word.)
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Bring an adult who was raised by an emotionally abused parent can be hard. Especially when you don’t realize that what you experienced was abuse until you’re older. And then you’re constantly learning and unlearning what moments of your childhood would be actually considered “abuse”
You’ll watch a show and people will call the parent abusive and you’ll reject the statement and say - “that���s not abuse because the kid did xyz” or “that’s not abuse because that’s just the parent’s personality” or even “wait, you think that’s bad?”
Anyway, watching Connors Wedding episode and then going on tumblr has me seeing all these posts of people pointing out how well the show did in capturing the nuance of losing an abusive parent
And I’m still here reeling that 4 seasons into this show, it was only until this episode that it even occurred to me that Logan would have been described as abusive to his kids
Watching that episode for the first time was like being in a trance and I felt like I could map each kids’ reaction to what the reaction my siblings and I would likely have in the event of my parent’s death and now I’m tying all that together
Having an emotionally abusive parent is hard. Especially when you are just trying to enjoy your day and something will remind of the ways you’ve been damaged
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