The Cause of All Our Problems

[My imaginary friend is GOD]

What were your parents or guardians like when you were growing up? Particularly, I'm interested in hearing from people who were neglected or abused. Did you have any siblings? Did they experience the same treatment?

On the surface, it seemed like I had a perfect suburban life. I had a mother, father, and brother who loved me. But I also had a biological father I had to visit every other week who was emotionally abusive and psychological manipulative - not just to me, but to everyone, especially women. It was like I was the only one who could see him for the monster he really was - everyone else thought he didn't mean to be so evil.

I used to be furious with my mother for letting me go with him every other weekend. I knew that the law demanded that he got his visitation, but I didn't see why we couldn't just escape to Mexico or something. I was five.

I tried to think up every possible solution, but I always came back to three possibilities: catching him in the act of physical abuse (by wearing a camera on my person), killing myself, and killing him. I figured if I had video evidence that he beat me, and if I had bruises and possibly even broken bones, that would be enough for him to lose visitation rights and go to jail. But that idea scared me because I knew eventually he could get out and when he got out, he might be angry at me. I also didn't know if I was strong enough to testify against him in court. I wasn't afraid for myself, I was afraid of what he might do to my friends or family to get to me. He threatened everyone I cared about all the time. I never told him my friends' last names. Anyway, that solution was not permanent, so I didn't like it.

The reason why I didn't attempt to kill myself was simply that I did not want to leave my brother alone in the world to fend for himself. He was always really sensitive and that scared me for him. Some days I also did not want to leave my mother, but again, I was angry with her for putting me in this situation in the first place. I thought my friends would probably be sad but get along okay without me.

That left killing him. I thought about it all the time. Since he had cancer in his final days, he was weakened and I could have done it easily. I could have made him swallow too many pills or smothered him with a pillow. However, I always imagined setting him on fire while he was asleep and then chopping him up into bits and feeding him to the dog. That seemed like the most satisfying way to end him. If he had lived long enough, I may have gotten up the courage to actually execute one of these plans, and I would have ended up either in juvie or in prison, and I still wouldn't have regretted doing it. Cancer got to him first, though, and because cancer is slow and painful, it was the most fitting death of all.

If he had not died when I was eight, like I said, I may have ended up in juvie or prison, or on the street, possibly a junkie. I was going nowhere good with his influence on my life. As it is, I have difficulty in relationships because I don't trust easily. Or maybe at all. And a part of me wants to keep replaying the same scene over and over and fix it, so I choose to be with people who are abusive towards me. My biological father would be so pleased that I couldn't totally shake him off and erase his influence from my life. He'd be thrilled to have scarred me so.

Oh, and by the way, I'm not going to forgive him for what he did to me and to everyone I care about, ever. I give people what they deserve, and he does not deserve forgiveness. So please don't post suggesting that.

[Walking Void]

Well done on opening up, ftw.

I do not have much else (as seen in an older thread) to say about my past, aside from what it leaves me with today. A void where my motivation, my drive, used to be. I am still interested in various topics, but I feel nothing for them. It is hard to explain to people with emotion than by rationality. I still have feelings, but I am so detached from myself. An out of body life, really. The symptom only improves when I lie to myself and say that my goals have any motives, or intrinsic value.

[Kayenneh]

I'm so sorry Futile. It's horrible to hear that someone would want to kill their sire (I can't call him a father, since the 'title' implies to me that he would have done at least something good for you) as a child, but I understand completely why. As for your relationship with abusive people, I think it's good you know the reason why you do it, but at least what I gather from your post, you would not have done anything different. Understanding and accepting this might be the way to break the vicious cycle and the last hold he has on you. (I'm sorry if I'm being presumptuous, I do not wish to offend you.)

[Minimalist]

Hell of a tale, Futile. And no, there is no forgiving someone like that and no real point to it either as he is dead and past caring. It would be phony forgiveness like these xtians telling all their problems to thin air and acting all holy afterwards.

But there is a cost to carrying these memories around in your head and it is a cost that you bear alone. I have a friend, a very close friend even though she is a nutty baptist. When she was 14 her father was murdered during a convenience store robbery. The shooter died of AIDS in prison but eventually the accomplices were eligible for parole and every two years she and her mother would dutifully go testify at the parole board opposing parole. Eventually she came to realize that the burden of preparing for the hearing and reliving the incident was tearing them apart. Everyone else at the hearing was playing a part in a mini-drama but for her and her mom the pain was real...not a state-imposed job requirement. She never forgave anybody but she simply stopped going to the hearings. The State never paroled them anyway and both died in prison as well. But the pain was in the resistance and by ceasing to tear the wound open she was able to move on with her life.

You didn't mention if you had talked to a therapist but it might do some good. Right now, it sounds as if the only one who is suffering is you. That's a harsh burden to bear.

[kılıç_mehmet]

You wanted to kill your father? Well, there are so many people out there who would kill their father for less, so I wouldn't hold it against you.

[Fruity]

I'm sitting here trying to find the right words, but there are none. I'm sorry you went through this. Hugs*

[freedomfromforum]

@futilethewinds,

I appreciate your openness. I'm not presuming anything here, but I do feel inspired to share my own brief personal experience.
The title to this thread is more accurate than most people realize. The significant role models young children are exposed to have a major impact upon prepubescent, and early adult development. It wasn't until after I graduated from college that I even began to consider establishing a new construct toward my father. The one I had developed toward him was rage filled and un-forgiving, and I considered my father to be the biggest monster alive for what he had done to me when I was a young boy. I was being eaten alive from the inner workings of something I had created and nursed within my mind over many decades. I was not responsible for being raped by my father and his friends. I was, however, responsible for nursing the wounds that were given to me by him. I now have a great relationship with my dad. It took two years of work and healing to even be able to call him 'dad' again. I am not sure exactly how I was able to reconstruct a warm environment within me to welcome my father back, but I will say that the heaviest load I'd ever chosen to carry has been completely lifted. "Forgiveness" is always for the benefit of the one doing the forgiving. The only actual thing I've 'given' my dad is a son who changed his mind. If I clutch the barbs I was once forcibly made to wear, I can expect only my own blood to flow.

[Raeven]

I, too, am sorry for all you went through as a child. As a child who went through something quite similar, I can relate to a point -- and I can also tell you that transcending your circumstances is very possible, if not easy.

You asked for those of us who also suffered abuse in our formative years to share their stories, so I will acquiesce to that request.

My mother was an undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. She tended toward violence and was the worst hoarder you can imagine. Actually, I doubt you or anyone else could imagine it. Put it this way: My first husband had heard about it for years, but when he actually saw it for himself, he had nightmares for 3 days. When my mother was younger, it wasn't so bad. But as she hit her early 30s, the disease became much more evident. My earliest childhood memories are filled with scenes of her and my father chasing each other with scissors, knives, whatever was handy. After my father left, that ultra-violent behavior was turned in my direction. I was close to my father, so her hatred of him became centered on me.

I was frequently thrashed with whatever was to hand: Broomsticks, rolling pins, whatever. She was careful to bruise areas that were covered during the day. Thighs and back were favorite targets. She would create reasons to have huge arguments with me, then throw me out of the house in the snow (in bare feet, no less!), then call the authorities to have me hauled off to the local juvenile hall. I don't think she ever realized how glad I was when that happened, because it meant a few nights of peace and safety. They always sent me back to her, though.

My father had moved far away and was not aware of what was going on. I didn't know how to contact him. My mother was fond of verbal abuse as well, and frequently told me I was crazy and "living in Never-Never Land." I took her words onboard. When I was 11, I volunteered myself to the local Community Mental Health center. (How I wish we still had those available for all the people who need them today, but that's another rant for another day!) I was fortunate to encounter a wonderful clinical psychologist who ended up saving my life in every way possible. After nearly 2 years of therapy with him, he finally broke his clinician's demeanor and outright told me I needed to get out of my mother's house -- else she was going to kill me. I brushed off his words, until one day when that nearly happened. Her intent was to acquaint me with the business end of a rake, but I saw her first and just... took off. I called my wonderful shrink, and he came to my rescue, permitted me to stay with him and his family until a more permanent placement could be found.

I bounced around in foster care for nearly 2 years until my father finally got wind of the situation. He immediately imported me to California where he lived at the time. And yada yada yada. My dad meant well, but he was ill-equipped to take on an angry, rebellious self-directed 14-year-old. I moved out when I was 16, never looked back. Best thing I ever did.

I was so very lucky to have encountered my wonderful psychologist. We had weekly one-on-one sessions, and I also attended therapy groups each week. I learned how to live in the moments of my pain, acknowledge them, experience them, put them in perspective -- and let them go. I can't say I forgave my mother so much as I came to understand and accept that her damage was caused by events in her own life, and despite being a miserable parent, she had done the best she could with what she had to work with. (Clearly we can agree it wasn't much!)

I carried on with therapy after I moved to California and found it to be a fantastic tool. I am no longer affected in any significant way by my past. It is what it is and has no control over me. My life is what I choose to make it, and I've done pretty well. When someone asks for a recitation of my upbringing, I can give that with no anger or residual pain over it. It's like reading out a grocery list.

I do have 2 siblings, both younger. They were not subjected to the same physical abuses I was, but they certainly suffered under the same chaotic household dynamic. My brother tends to stuff down his feelings, not dealing with them forthrightly, and to this day, I see evidence of unresolved anger in him over it. I fear my sister suffers from the same paranoid schizophrenia that my mother had. She is 2 years younger than me and on the verge of homelessness. She is unable to form meaningful attachments to anyone. I am sad for her, very sad, but I have come to understand I can't provide her with any useful help. In this, as for all of us, she is on her own.

Min and FFF have given you fantastic advice. If you still suffer pain and anger over your past, it's a good idea to get some help with processing it. You may have to try on a few different shrinks to find one who is a good fit. They are not all created equal. I have found quite a number who go into helping professions simply so they can deny their own damage. So be particular in your quest. But if you connect with a good one, it will change your life -- I promise!

I wish you all the best in your journey to get past your past. There is no more worthwhile endeavor. Hugs to you.

[LastPoet]

Does your suffering justify your behaviour?

[My imaginary friend is GOD]

I have been in therapy since I was about three years old. The original purpose was for me to learn to communicate with my mother what was going on, since all she knew was that I would come home from my visit with my biological father very angry and violent. I did not tell anyone what was really going on until my biological father was already dead. I was afraid he would find out and retaliate against me. I have worked on PTSD, but it's difficult work and I go backwards to a more scared and angry place when I bring up those old memories, and it's not conducive to completing my degree. When I get out of school, I plan to finally take on that battle and see it through to its conclusion.