Guess it truly was her and I. We traveled we seen many places, even Banff, we took pictures, we took lots of photos with my new camera, we had camp fires and told stories, so you see there was good times too. Thing between Mom and I were going great, I finally had a Mom.
Just they were never around to witness this part of our lives. Their Mom life, too bad for them. To them she was what he said. She was just this drunken slut, he told them. Isolating her from everyone. They swallowed every word of it. You know this is probably why even to this date I hate it when anyone calls anyone a slut. I really do not believe there is such a thing. Maybe they haven't found the one, what is it any of your business. As long as they are not hurting you, move on, that is their life. I hate names. They do hurt, and they stay forever too.
For thirty years I have been hearing nothing but bad stuff from him, about my Mom. Mr. Dad would say, Jz tell ( Bxrb his new wife) how much your Mom beat you, how much she hated her own daughter! Your Mom was sick to the point of abuse; tell Bxrb how your Mom almost killed you. Your mom was a slut; your mom was the laziest person I he had ever met. I think he is a sociopath.
Just a thought
I am not a doctor but I do believe my older sister is as well. Most people I have talked to in my past they all say, Your older sister is like a candy coated pill, Sweet on the outside , bitter within. Wow. If they are not sociopaths they are just evil. Who plays with a person head like this? Am I wrong?
Thing took to the worse, shortly after our summer holiday to Banff, my mom slipped on a banana peel, yes you heard right, She was stepping out of the pickup truck slipped on a banana peel and Brock her leg in three places. THREE PLACES! She had a cast on her leg for over a year. With this in mind, summer was over and I was staying off of school a lot to take care of my Mom. She decided we had to move back to Kitchener. I came home from school and she was gone. I cried for the whole days. She left me with the man she was living with and his son, my mom lived with. He tried to calm me, said he would save and send me home. I wouldn't eat; I stayed in my room and cried. Three weeks past and he came home with a bus ticket,, I had to pack quick I had not even an hour to get there. He would send our other stuff back to us. I had no reason to question it I was only fourteen years old. I like him, remember.
Only to never see our stuff again. I mean everything, all our photo albums; this haunts me to this day. I wish I could get them back. I only have four photos of my mom. I have maybe five or me as a little kid. What a shame.
I would like to thank those that allow me to place their videos on my site.
We will make a difference.
I was asked today why do you jz want to bring this all out. What are you intentions? What are you trying to do?
I guess my answer would be. Maybe if I get ridge of all this pain I will see the good things once more. And as mentioned above less stress test. I really do believe this is going to help me make peace with myself. Maybe if I get my courage up I can make a difference. Maybe help others with their abuse. Maybe make awareness to all the different types of bulling. Who knows maybe one day I can be a speaker for an organization.
When arriving home from Calgary, I thought my Mom would meet me at the bus station, she wasn't there I had nowhere to go. I had No address, I didn't even know my Aunts address. I stay with a best friend for awhile. That was until I met up with a cousin of mine. He was gentle and kind, seemed to me he had all his shit together. A job, an apartment, and food in the fridge. He was very responsible. Weeks past and still no word from my Mom, No word from any family Members at all. But I felt safe like really safe for the first time in my life. He made me feel love just with his words. I didn't want to leave. I was only fooling myself; I knew he needed space, and who at 19 wouldn't? He didn’t need a teen around. My Mom surfaced 10 weeks later and home I went. You guessed it back with Mom and the Man I hated.
By this time in my life I learned to block people out even more. I was meeting new friend, and growing my own life. I tell my girls I was one of the forgotten ones, so I had to raise myself. I stayed with my Mom because I LOVED her so very much. I did want to leave though, I just couldn't, she would say if I were to leave she would take her life, this was when she was drinking. I prayed she would stop. It seemed to make her sad! She would repeat over and over again, he is isolating me; he is turning everyone I ever loved away from me. He has killed me and I'm not even dead yet. I truly thought I could help. I would say, you have ME. I must have been blind or something; I didn't see how big this really was. I always try to make everyone happy, even if I hurt myself along the way. I really was hoping things would change they just never did. The only one I would tell half stories too, was the school counselor. I needed someone to listen to me. Thank you Mrs. Smith if you ever read this. You listened. Thank you. Not that the school did anything about it. Guess they didn't think they could help. So I fell through the cracks.
I am not the smartest cookie on the block, but I do think I am smart in different ways. Street smart and common sense. I was teaching myself to love me, screw the world. What I didn’t learn in school, I teach myself now. Friend looked to me for advice; this made me feel wanted and alive and like someone really cared.
TODAY'S POST:
I received this letter today in my inbox so I thought I would share it with my readers
Eleanor
I guess my answer would be. Maybe if I get ridge of all this pain I will see the good things once more. And as mentioned above less stress test. I really do believe this is going to help me make peace with myself. Maybe if I get my courage up I can make a difference. Maybe help others with their abuse. Maybe make awareness to all the different types of bulling. Who knows maybe one day I can be a speaker for an organization.
When arriving home from Calgary, I thought my Mom would meet me at the bus station, she wasn't there I had nowhere to go. I had No address, I didn't even know my Aunts address. I stay with a best friend for awhile. That was until I met up with a cousin of mine. He was gentle and kind, seemed to me he had all his shit together. A job, an apartment, and food in the fridge. He was very responsible. Weeks past and still no word from my Mom, No word from any family Members at all. But I felt safe like really safe for the first time in my life. He made me feel love just with his words. I didn't want to leave. I was only fooling myself; I knew he needed space, and who at 19 wouldn't? He didn’t need a teen around. My Mom surfaced 10 weeks later and home I went. You guessed it back with Mom and the Man I hated.
By this time in my life I learned to block people out even more. I was meeting new friend, and growing my own life. I tell my girls I was one of the forgotten ones, so I had to raise myself. I stayed with my Mom because I LOVED her so very much. I did want to leave though, I just couldn't, she would say if I were to leave she would take her life, this was when she was drinking. I prayed she would stop. It seemed to make her sad! She would repeat over and over again, he is isolating me; he is turning everyone I ever loved away from me. He has killed me and I'm not even dead yet. I truly thought I could help. I would say, you have ME. I must have been blind or something; I didn't see how big this really was. I always try to make everyone happy, even if I hurt myself along the way. I really was hoping things would change they just never did. The only one I would tell half stories too, was the school counselor. I needed someone to listen to me. Thank you Mrs. Smith if you ever read this. You listened. Thank you. Not that the school did anything about it. Guess they didn't think they could help. So I fell through the cracks.
I am not the smartest cookie on the block, but I do think I am smart in different ways. Street smart and common sense. I was teaching myself to love me, screw the world. What I didn’t learn in school, I teach myself now. Friend looked to me for advice; this made me feel wanted and alive and like someone really cared.
TODAY'S POST:
I received this letter today in my inbox so I thought I would share it with my readers
Hello Jz
Thank you for your link. I read it with compassion. Would you be at all interested in sharing your story? I have noticed a pattern with adults that were abused as children. With others I have spoken to, it seems that the actual realizations and understandings about the abuse are coming about when the victim is older, say 35-45 years of age.
At the same time, I have met too many adults that either have substance abuse problem to cope with the painful memories and constant "why?" or they repeat the abusive cycle with their own children.
Best Regards
Eleanor
Hello Eleanor
I think it is wonderful what you are doing, But...
I cannot say my abuse has lead to abuse of substance, I don't even believe I should go on antidepressant. I feel I am sad for a reason. I still believe in hope. And I can promise you I would never in a million years ever do what I went through to my children or any child/person at that matter. I raised myself most of my life, I hated what happened to me and would not wish it on anyone, especially those I love. I said, as growing up, if I ever had children I would give them all the love I never did get. I kept that promise to myself, to my girls, and it was easy, Love is much easier, they are so precious, and they made it easy. They showed me love. They are all I ever did that was right, my family is me, they are who I am. I believe it is important to talk to your children, I think the more positive you are with people, In any walk of life, you get positive back. I believe in family, I believe in hope. I believe what they did was wrong. I wanted to be different than them. I am!! But I hurt inside.
I do see their abuse has touched my home once again. I know that seems a little weird but it has. You will have to fallow my story to see what I mean. I am the kind of person that finds it hard to be talk open in front of people, that is why I have started my blog site, maybe if I write it down then I can talk about it openly, without breaking into tears, I know you probably do not get this of me from my letter, but I am better on paper or on the phone. I don't know why.
Each day I add a little more of my jz inside story, and one day maybe I can make a difference for other, as you are. If you would like you are more than welcome to fallow me on my jz inside story, you are more than welcome to give me a call and we can talk, but I don't know if I am ready to join a group, or talk openly without the tears. Give me time, let me think about it. I just found out so much, and I am just starting with my healing. But I do want to help, I think it is wonderful there people like you out there that want to listen, you give yourself a pat on the back, and never stop what you are doing, Most people do not want to hear what I have to say, I guess it is a downer. I see there are many heartbroken people out there that have gone through the pain I have endured. It is a sin to believe the people you love and are to trust could hurt you so deep. I hurt!
I am broken, but I can and will fix what they broke. I want to help, give me time...
BUT THEY CAN'T REMEMBER!
Hello Jz
Thank you for sharing your journey with me. I should share back. The reason I am collecting people's stories is because I grew up like you. In fact the "forward" of the book was written by me, about my childhood. I will send it to you this week and it will give you a better insight to myself and why I believe that there is hope for people like us without turning to drugs or repeating the cycle.
I can certainly relate to you Jz - my childhood was physically abusive also, I was always told what a loser I am etc...Whatever my sibling did wrong I was punished for and the public humiliations were horrible. I recall a similar incident to your story - when I was 7 years old I fell while playing jump rope and broke my ankle. My parents refused to take me to the hospital despite my crying. A month later, my ankle was still bad and they finally took me to the doctors and lied about the injury. I was picked on all through school, high school and even college. I really felt like I had "damaged goods" written across my head. I actually wondered if other people could pick up on the fact that I was "damaged" because it seemed like It was just acceptable for anyone to treat me like crap. I did not turn to drugs or alcohol. But, I had an addiction to rage. I was tired of being treated badly. Over the years my anger got the best of me and people started commenting on what a "hot head" I was. I lost a good job over my temper. I decided to go to counseling and was amazed at what I learned. I learned that I had no self esteem. I learned I didn't like myself and that my anger was actually me constantly being in survival mode due to my childhood. We are not born with self esteem or confidence, we are not born with values, and we are not born with problem solving skills or life skills. These are supposed to be learned from our parents when we are children. Since you and I did not learn self worth, we have to go through these realizations and either get professional help, or become substance abusers to deal with the pain, or cry a lot. Jz I can tell you that self esteem counseling was very beneficial for me. Then I went on to stress counseling for post traumatic stress disorder and learned how to deal with anger and anxiety. I decided to invest in myself because I realized I am worth it. You are worth it to. I am a good person with lots to offer and I know that now. I also cut my parents out of my life years ago and what a weight lifted off my shoulders!
Jz, I cannot dwell or focus too much on my past. I also used to cry a lot, I could not figure out why my parents did this to me. But I can tell you that I am much better adjusted now, I am confident now, I can form positive and valued relationships now. Every day I think about what happened but now it is different. My parents still try to contact me in some way but they do not deserve me in their lives and they are not worth my time. I am worth my time. You are worth your time.
Our similarities are unreal. My parents used to abuse me but also each other. I recall many times I would hide in the basement and pray for them to divorce, for all the yelling and hitting to go away. I truly felt that if my father left, things would be better. Anyway, I could go on but I will email you the forward for the book - I think you will find it interesting. I think it is also important for you to know that my parents are both medical professionals and I grew up privileged. Abuse does not discriminate. No neighbors or family friends would do anything to stop what was going on. In fact my father to this day denies everything, which probably angers me the most, even to this day. When I confronted my mother, her response was "can't you just get over it". No I can't.
Judy, there will be no accountability from your parents. The burden lies with you to make you better. It is a tough journey.
Getting back to the book - I am asking people for one on one meeting not a group meeting and it has to be people, like yourself, who are dealing with this head on and not with drugs or medication. I think that is important - to face things no matter how much they hurt. Now people say to me, "you're so strong", but if they went through what I did, they would be stronger too. Also I would like the book to show people that the affects of abuse lasts a life time, and does not stop after your 10th birthday.
Eleanor
Continue where I left off above before this in-box letter
Friend noticed I could do whatever I wanted; they would ask if they could move in with my Mom and me. They were not getting along with their parents. My Mother would say, they could stay the night to calm down, she would say they had to call home to let their parents know where they were, she would say, “just because you didn’t think they cared, or just because you are upset at your parent does not mean they do not love you, they would worry and have a sleepless night. No one could ever love you the way your parents do. My Mom would say to my friends if you are having a hard time going back for any reason, she would be more then welcome to invite the parents over to talk it out together and to help fix what ever got broken. This is the way I was raised by my Mom.
Good advise something I would say!
