First of all to say that the mind and will of a Creator exists in a book is ludicrous and cultish in itself. Secondly, those who claim to be “of the Book” yet don’t even know what’s written in it, is a mockery of his own religion/god. Evidence proves it to be a lie Click me!
My awakening of the Christian cult began when I learned the horrid truths surrounding the Israel/Palestine conflict. It’s really not a “conflict” as the Evangelicals like to call it. It’s genocide. It made me weep like a child when I saw the atrocities being done to Arabs all in the name of the bible god that I was worshiping.
Once I learned Evangelical christians did the same damn thing to the Native American’s I knew right then and there I no longer wanted any part of this Christian god found in it’s Bible. The OT was being used to justify genocide, adultery, theft and all other perversions known to man. My argument used to be the NT wipes out the OT but Jesus often quotes the OT and the book of Revelation only confirms a genocidal god who favors one race over another simply for being born from the “wrong tribe”
Another thing that was making my skin crawl about this cult was how Evangelicals were rejecting and shunning the wrong people! Their book says to shun BELIEVERS who live against it’s teachings. NOT unbelievers. Yet, most christians condemn judge and reject non-christians who are homosexuals, drunkards, druggies, while embracing and mingling with so called christians who can be found at the bar every weekend, gossiping, cheating, lying, etc. Can you say HYPOCRITE?
Some of the most beautiful spiritual people I’ve known were atheists, muslims and non believers while some of the most hateful and belligerent were christians. They also acted like zombies and robots with zero emotion or empathy towards injustices and perversions against “unbelievers”.
I’m glad to finally be free from Christianity. We could all benefit from the teachings of the great Native American Chiefs of the past. They were very humble in spite of the evils of the white christian men, therefore very wise and enlightened of many deep truths from the Great Spirit. I don’t hate or condemn christians, I just wish they would stop pushing their religious beliefs onto others thinking it’s their “god given duty” and threatening those who reject it with eternal hellfire from the god who "loves" them. Jesus taught that God is found within. Not in a book building or piece of land. No people are more favored or special than another and you need to stop the wretched teaching that the jews are such people.
Live and let live, give a voice to the oppressed, and do unto others as you want done unto you. Imagine a world such as this…
After fighting battle after battle to keep the white men from taking Lakota lands, the government asked Sitting Bull to make a speech when the golden spike would be placed in the Northern Pacific Railroad tying the east coast to the west. Amazingly, Sitting Bull agreed to make the speech. An Indian agent who knew Lakota wrote the speech for Sitting Bull. So, on September 8, 1883, amid applause and a standing ovation, Sitting Bull made his speech. He smiled and bowed throughout allowing time for cheers and applause, but what no one knew except the Indian agent who ghost wrote the speech, was that Sitting Bull gave his own address and it was nothing like the scripted speech he was suppose to have given. In part, this is what Sitting Bull said:
“I hate all White people,” he said. “You are thieves and liars. You have taken away our land and made us outcasts.” He went on to describe the terrible attrocities that white men had done to his people, their corruption and dishonesty . All the while, as he delivered his speech, he looked directly at the Secretary of State, Ulysses S. Grant, the governors and the bankers. On that day, with his speech, Sitting Bull made the white men into fools.
The Lakota knew Sitting Bull as a kind, generous and self-sacrificing man for the sake of his family and his people. I found something he said that speaks of his intelligence and his fondness and hope for the next generation of people. "A child is the greatest gift from Wakan Tanka (Great Mystery), in response to many devout prayers, sacrifices and promises". Another quote about the next generation by Sitting Bull is, "Let us put our minds together and see what kind of life we can make for our children.”
It’s hard to believe, but Sitting Bull participated in Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show for a few months. He would dress in full Lakota regalia and ride around the ring once to boos and shouts of distain. Although I know it’s true, I still cannot imagine such a proud man would exploit himself in such a way.
In the end, it was a Lakota’s bullet that killed Sitting Bull.
The Ghost Dance movement made the whites anxious and suspicious. It predicted a messiah would rise up in the Indian nations and defeat the white men. The unrest escalated and authorities felt that Sitting Bull (Lakota name: Tatanka) would join the movement and create a powerful resistance. Major James sent 43 Lakota tribal policemen and soldiers to arrest the chief. On December 15, 1890, the policemen surrounded Tatanka Iyotanka’s cabin and dragged him out. As his supporters objected to this treatment, a gunfight broke out in which Tatanka Iyotanka and twelve others were killed including his son, Crowfoot and his Assiniboine adopted brother, Jumping Bull all murdered by the Lakota police. Six policemen were also killed. A Lakota policeman shot Tatanka Iyotanka in the head.
Sitting Bull was buried at Fort Yates, North Dakota. Another controversy follows his burial. The Lakota refer to sitting Bull as Grandfather Tatanka Iyotanka
I can't help but shed a tear when I think to myself what if..WE secured our Borders from the terrorists who stole our land after killing us off and rewriting history to make them look heroic?
But I'm not crying anymore because I'm watching their fall everyday!
Now I can't help but laugh as tI think to myself how...Karma is a bitch!
Is it not white Christian America anymore? Well..There’s a Bible in every hotel and motel across the country. There are churches great and small packed through out the country. The smaller the town it seems the more church shacks you’ll see. It’s not rare to witness street preachers handing out their judeo-christian literature or hell fire speeches on street corners (Muslims/Jews/Hindus don’t do this) Hollywood comes out with a movie every year about the Bible god. Bumper stickers clothing and other “Jesus Loves You” merchandise are promoted throughout the country. I’m not sure what it’s like in your neck of the woods but in mine, the Nations Capitol Bible belt Washington D.C. area, whites are the majority in all aspects of life and business unless you drive through certain poverty stricken neighborhoods. This country was founded on Bible bashers and they used it to “tame and educate” the nature loving Native People to make room for our modern #robotic civilization and #greed prosperity. White Christian America has done much and should be given credit where credit is due. Does this make me a race hater? Well, if calling a pedophile out for his crime who just so happens to be White then yes. If judging a rapist for his crime who happens to be Hispanic then yes. If exposing a crooked Jewish politician for his murderous crimes makes me antisemitic then YES. You can call me a race hater, because I hate ALL humans who intentionally destroy and harm others and will proudly and loudly continue exposing them for who and what they are. Even if they’re white christian Americans.
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a great ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy - ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness—that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what—at last—I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate this evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me ~B Russell .♡
When I became convinced that the Universe is natural -- that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom. The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light and all the bolts, and bars, and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf or a slave. There was for me no master in all the wide world -- not even in infinite space. I was free -- free to think, to express my thoughts -- free to live to my own ideal -- free to live for myself and those I loved -- free to use all my faculties, all my senses -- free to spread imagination's wings -- free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope -- free to judge and determine for myself -- free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the "inspired" books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past -- free from popes and priests -- free from all the "called" and "set apart" -- free from sanctified mistakes and holy lies -- free from the fear of eternal pain -- free from the winged monsters of the night -- free from devils, ghosts and gods. For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought -- no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings -- no chains for my limbs -- no lashes for my back -- no fires for my flesh -- no master's frown or threat -- no following another's steps -- no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds." R. Ingersoll ♡
Native American Spirituality vs Christianity~
Most history textbooks designed for high school courses mistakenly consider the various Native American religions as an indistinguishable whole. One popular textbook, The American Waydescribes Native American religion in these words: "These Native Americans [in the Southeast] believed that nature was filled with spirits. Each form of life, such as plants and animals, had a spirit. Earth and air held spirits too. People were never alone. They shared their lives with the spirits of nature." The American Way may have been attempting to show respect for Native American religion, but it doesn't wash. Stated unequivocally in this way, the beliefs are depicted as opaque or meaningless fallacy and fable, not the sophisticated theology of a higher civilization. Let us attempt a similarly succinct summary of the beliefs of many Christians today as might have been described by Native Americans:
"These white men believed that one great invisible infinitely wise and powerful male god in the sky ruled the world and that he must be obeyed or we will be punished for eternity after we die. Sometimes they divided the deity into three parts, which they called Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. They ate wafers and wine, believing that they were eating the body of the God’s son named Jesus and drinking his blood. Jesus was born to a virgin and was later murdered on a wooden stake in the form of a cross but after three days rose from the dead. If people were obedient and believed strongly enough, they would live on forever after they died in a place called Heaven. They believe we are all born morally depraved, born into ‘sin’ and that the son of God was sacrificed so that our sins could be expunged. ”
In the excellent Canadian movie Black Robe (1991) the Mohawks and other native tribes were incredulous and dazed by the childlike beliefs espoused by the Catholic missionaries who attempted to convert them to Christianity. In consideration of the above, this incredulity and skepticism is certainly plausible.
In spite of its stark truth, textbooks however would never describe Christianity in this manner since it would be considered offensive to the dominant cultural and ethnocentric white European worldview of Judeo-Christianity. But as Robert A Heinlein the great science fiction writer once said, “One man’s religion is another man’s belly laugh”. Christian beliefs such as a virgin birth, a resurrection from death and the existence of an omnipotent invisible God whose only son on died for our sins are not perceived by Christians as mindless superstition. But the Native American belief in the Great White Spirit, the efficacy of a rain dance or that all living things have spirit lives is regarded as such.
Textbooks could present American Indian religions from a perspective that takes them at least as seriously and appealing as mainstream Christianity. My personal view is that all religions are equally superstitious and false but that is not the point of this discussion. But on a plausibility scale, the Native American religions make a lot more sense than do any of the three main monotheisms of Christianity, Islam and Judaism. The anthropologist Frederick Turner has pointed out that when white people remark upon the fact that Indians perceive a spirit in every animal or rock, they are simultaneously admitting their own loss of a deep spiritual relationship with the earth. Native Americans are "part of the total living universe," wrote Turner; "spiritual health is to be had only by accepting this condition and by attempting to live in accordance with it." Turner contends that this life view is healthier than European alternatives: "Ours is a shockingly dead view of creation. We ourselves are die only things in the universe to which we grant an authentic vitality, and because of this we are not fully alive." Thus, Turner shows that taking Native American religions seriously might require re-examination of the Judeo-Christian tradition. But no textbook would ever entertain such a controversial issue. Native Americans could never understand the white man’s total lack of respect and reckless disregard for the natural environment which they held in reverence. They would burn and slash, kill hundreds of thousands of buffalo and leave the carcasses to rot on the plains. To the Comanche and Kiowa for example the white man seemed to hate everything in nature. As the Kiowa chief Satanta said, “A long time ago this land belonged to our fathers; but when I go up to the river I see camps of soldiers there here on its banks. These soldiers cut down my timber, they kill my buffalo and when I see that my heart feels like bursting; I feel sorry.” A Crow chief, Bear Tooth~
Source:
http://www.skeptic.ca/Native_Religion.htm
"God" By John Lennon
God is a Concept by which we measure our pain I'll say it again God is a Concept by which we measure our pain
I don't believe in magic I don't believe in I-ching I don't believe in Bible I don't believe in Tarot I don't believe in Hitler I don't believe in Jesus I don't believe in Kennedy I don't believe in Buddha I don't believe in Mantra I don't believe in Gita I don't believe in Yoga I don't believe in Kings I don't believe in Elvis I don't believe in Zimmerman I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me, Yoko and me, and that's reality
The dream is over What can I say? The dream is over Yesterday I was the dreamweaver But now I'm reborn I was the walrus But now I'm John And so, dear friends, You'll just have to carry on The dream is over
"This insight into narcissistic personality disorder is offered from the perspective of more than 40 years as the daughter of a late narcissistic personality disordered mother, as well as years of recovery. Reading a list of diagnostic traits of narcissistic personality disorder may be a helpful guide, but this is how some of those traits play out in everyday life. Narcissistic personality disorder is a serious condition that can be especially damaging to the children. It is not just a shallow or self-centered person. It can take decades for the children of a narcissistic personality disordered mother to recognize what the real issue is, many never do.
Gaslighting, forgive and forget, gossiping smear campaigns, and playing the victim while vilifying the true victim, are prevalent maneuvers of the narcissistic mother that will be discussed. These tactics were nearly always effective tools used to manipulate the "flying monkeys," too. Flying monkeys is a term taken from The Wizard of Oz and used to describe the often times willfully ignorant, easily deceived or intentionally abusive friends and family the narcissistic personality disordered mother manipulates into also harming the true victim. It is abuse by proxy that results from ignorance of the truth, lack of character to stand up for the truth or intentionally targeting a family member. Whether it is directly or indirectly, physically or emotionally, etc., narcissists use flying monkeys to do their dirty work.
Even though my narcissistic mother is deceased, the flying monkeys continue to carry out her pretend world. They do not appreciate when the scapegoat refuses to play along. However, the pretend world of the narcissist, the rabbit hole, is intolerable. It is about like standing on the lawn with someone who has their sunglasses on at high noon on a sunny day. They not only insist it is dark outside and those are not sunglasses, but that you agree with them that it is dark outside and those are not sunglasses. If you refuse to play pretend or state the obvious, then you are accused of being a troublemaker or crazy. Now imagine growing up in the rabbit hole as the narcissistic personality disordered mother's scapegoat.
The Narcissist's Forgive and Forget
In my experience some sick people love to try to beat you half to death with the Bible. Of course, it's usually redefined terms and biblical text taken out of context being used as a pretext. That's what cults do and in my opinion a family led by a narcissistic personality disordered parent is a little cult family. So, I guess it should not be any big surprise. Forgive and forget must be one of the all time favorites for abusive family members and those who enable them, so I would like to address it.
I think the Bible is pretty clear that God wants us to forgive, but that does not necessarily mean what you may have been taught. It can easily become the "forgive and forget" that has been handed down in my family for generations, but only to certain members, of course. You are required to "forgive and forget," period. This is usually followed by the implication or suggestion that you return for more abuse in order to "prove" you "forgive and forget." Otherwise, YOU are the one accused of being "mean," "unforgiving," or "unChristian-like" by the narcissist and her flying monkeys.
Narcissistic abusers of all kinds, as well as those who enable them, would love for you to believe this is what forgiveness means. Among other things, this confuses the fundamental difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. Forgiveness takes one, you. Reconciliation takes two. However, in some situations such as relationships involving ongoing abuse, reconciliation is not desirable, in which case you can forgive without forgetting or reconciling.
The Bible provides instructions on forgiveness, reconciliation or, in some cases, parting ways in different situations, such as when there is repentance on the part of the offending fellow believer or when there is not repentance. In Luke 17:3 it says, "If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him." This is to honestly, frankly, politely speak as you tell a person how you feel that he has wronged you. It does not say a thing about stuffing your normal human response of anger, pretending you forgave, "forgetting" and returning for more abuse.
"Forget" does nothing but play into the denial and the rest of the pretend world of the manipulative narcissist. Abusers often gaslight, (see Gaslighting) and those who do especially like to reinforce this belief because it fits right in with them pretending the abuse did not happen. There is no mention of repentance on the narcissist's part, but the focus is on your requirement to "forgive and forget." This is a deadly trap in my opinion and one my narcissistic mother had me in for several years as a very young adult. Besides allowing abuse God never intended for us to endure, it can also lead to enormous anger toward God.
"If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a tax collector." (Matt. 18:15-17) (Tax collectors were hated and ostracized because they had turned against their own people to collect the taxes. Secondly, they were despised because they were allowed to add their own "fees" to the amount collected, but many would demand a much greater amount. So they were considered traitors and thieves.)
That certainly does not sound like the "forgive and forget" I was raised to believe God required! It's actually the "forgive and forget" abusers and their enablers promote to knowingly or unknowingly perpetuate the cycle of abuse. While this is an instruction addressing an issue between two believers, even then you are not required to just "forgive and forget" ongoing abuse if you are a Christian and go back for more. Reconciliation without repentance can be dangerous. God does not want us to continue to be abused!
"Forgive and forget" also removes an opportunity for the abuser to be confronted with their actions and repent. Of course, that will never happen with a true narcissist! Some people never repent, nor are they truly remorseful. However, there are actually certain people the Bible tells us to avoid altogether, which includes a narcissist who masquerades as a "selfless saint."
Of course, the narcissist never forgives the slightest infraction - be it real, imagined or completely fabricated. No, "forgive and forget" is for the victim. If you hurt her feelings or even if she hurt your feelings viciously, but told everyone you attacked her, she has what any normal person would believe to be a long forgotten small disagreement filed away just waiting for an opportunity to use it against you. Bet on it. She has either actively sought revenge or it is seething just under the surface waiting for the right opportunity. God forbid there was anything more substantial.
On a related note, it can be difficult to grasp that someone in your life is this far gone, let alone the fact that someone is your parent. For years I told myself, "All things are possible with God!" Well, all things are possible with God, but God gave us free will. She did not want to change. It worked for her and it worked well.
She paraded as a "martyred, selfless saint," and was terminally ill for two years prior to her death. Even as her professed beliefs told her she was getting ready to meet her Maker, there was no making amends. There was no confession of the truth, remorse or apology for the lifetime of jealous fits, abuse, gaslighting, slander, smear campaigns, broken relationships, damaged reputation, etc. There were more accusations, lies and manipulation resulting in a dog pile by the flying monkeys as the puppet master's final carefully orchestrated earthly gesture before stepping into eternity.
Do not make the mistake of believing there is empathy or remorse in there somewhere, there is not. See the following on my lessons learned if you are waiting for an apology or dealing with a terminally ill narcissistic personality disordered parent:
If there happens to be some expression presented as an apology to someone, listen to it carefully. Listen for a subtle shifting of blame away from the narcissist, which I like to call a "non-apology." It will never happen spontaneously as you or I would apologize to someone because we are truly sorry. For example, you accidentally step on someone's foot and almost as a reflex you apologize. It is never like that with a narcissist because not only are they not sorry, but they have been plotting, seething and scheming to do whatever they did. They are also seething that anyone could think they did anything deserving of an apology.
If it gives the appearance of an apology, there is an ulterior motive in there if you look for it. For example, the narcissist gives the "apology" not for the benefit of the person on the receiving end, but for the benefit of an audience who happens to be the narcissistic supply and flying monkeys. Again, they are not truly sorry, but if they do not pretend to be it could cost them in the eyes of their all important narcissistic supply and flying monkeys.
Ideally, if someone has a problem with another person, they go directly to that person to discuss it. However, that's just often not the case in a dysfunctional family. Some people do this without bad intentions because they have not recognized the habit or if they believe the person will become angry or violent if they communicate directly. However, this can be a favorite of manipulative narcissistic mother that can get you in deep before you even realize what is happening.
Let's use Daughter, Mother and Aunt as an example. Daughter has done something Mother does not like, but instead of going to Daughter about it, Mother tells Aunt about it. Aunt listens to the gossip, then involves herself in the situation, creating the triangulation. The Mother's intentions may or may not be bad. It could be an old habit and she may not realize the damage she is doing unless it is pointed out to her. Daughter then does not have the opportunity to address the issue with Mother, as well as potentially having her reputation harmed with Aunt.
The Narcissist Plays the Innocent Victim While Vilifying the True Victims
On the other hand, Narcissistic Mother does this with evil intent and it goes something like this. Narcissistic Mother just verbally assaulted Daughter because Daughter confronted Narcissistic Mother about her lying about Daughter. However, when Narcissistic Mother calls Aunt, she tells Aunt that Daughter just verbally assaulted her because she confronted Daughter about her lying (notice the flip, the projection of the bad behavior onto the true victim).
It appears to strip Narcissistic Mother of her wrong and true victim Daughter of her virtue, killing two birds with one stone. Narcissistic personality disordered Mother then appears innocent of the abuse, damages Daughter's reputation with Aunt and an alliance is formed against the true victim. Aunt may very well believe she is doing the right thing and standing up for the innocent person even though she may be unknowingly being deceived, used and manipulated.
However, there are also family members who are willfully ignorant along the lines of being silent partners. Aunt becomes Narcissistic Mother's flying monkey to do her dirty work and heap more abuse on Daughter for daring to confront Narcissistic Mother about her lying. If you choose to confront a narcissist, be prepared for the rage and revenge.
Narcissistic Mother Playing Concerned Parent While Destroying Relationships
The gossip may also be thinly veiled as fake "concern" for Daughter, whom the Narcissistic Mother just attacked after Daughter confronted Mother about her lying. In this scenario, the Narcissistic Mother may lie by saying something (usually dripping with martyrdom), followed by fake concern. "I tried to be a good mother, but I am so worried about her irrational emotional state."
To the undiscerning, this sounds like a caring mother expressing concern about her daughter. It is gossip just the same, directed toward casting doubt on Daughter's stability. If we stand back and look at it, it is classic narcissistic behavior. The Narcissistic Mother held herself out as the innocent victim who must endure this irrational child (who is not being irrational at all, but responding normally to the verbal attack and abuse) and tarnished the reputation of true victim Daughter in the mind of Flying Monkey Aunt.
Narcissistic Mother has also "explained" any upset Daughter might display, so that Aunt will automatically attribute it to "irrational behavior" should she see Daughter. If Aunt is a well trained Flying Monkey Aunt, she will often turn around and give true victim Daughter a talk about treating her mother better! (Remember, the reality of what actually happened was Daughter confronted NPD Mother about lying about her in the first place!)
Do not underestimate the cumulative damage this can cause to your reputation and other relationships when a slanderous narcissistic mother repeats this stunt over a span of years. A lying, manipulative narcissist can completely destroy your relationships before you even realize what is going on.
In my experience, the narcissist was a prolific gossip (spending hours a day on the telephone gossiping), who triangulated to divide and conquer, manipulate and punish. Watch your back! The same narcissist who tries to guilt trip you to death with twisted Scripture will completely overlook what the Good Book has to say about gossip!
After all of the hurt, anger, pain, frustration, trying, forgiving, trying again, praying, walking away and going back, it did not change anything about my narcissistic mother. It cost me time, money, enormous energy, broken relationships, trauma, devastation, anger, and nearly my life. She was my mother and I loved her, but I can honestly say had I fully grasped what the therapist was telling me decades ago - the true depth - I would have walked away and never looked back.
No contact would have been the healthiest option for me by far. Oh, I did walk away, more than once, but I would have stayed far away and never returned. I do not issue that opinion lightly. True narcissists do not change, they destroy other people, including their own children. The biggest mistake you can make in my opinion is to underestimate a narcissistic personality disordered individual.
It is important to me to be as transparent as I am able to be in my articles on this topic simply because I know there are many others out there who have dealt with or are dealing with the same situation. The simple fact that you are not alone can aid the healing process. I was in my 40's before I found so much as one other human being on the planet who had experienced my situation. It was a very healing experience just to have someone who truly understood because they have been there!
If this sounds like your mother or father, know you are not alone. Healing is possible after a narcissist, even if the narcissist was or is your mother. Join us at:
Also, being around a narcissist was once explained to me in a way I think is good to keep in mind. Allowing a narcissistic personality disordered or malignant narcissist to stay in your life is like being injected with a steady stream of venom, then wondering why you don't feel so good. You wonder because you might not be able to put your finger on exactly what is wrong. It's not you.
Get the viper out of your life, cut off the flow of venom, find some healthy support and start the journey toward healing and wholeness. Healing from a Narcissistic Mother provides some ideas and tips I have learned along the way."
Do you remember what it feels like to fall head over heals in love with someone? That blinding kind of love? They can do no wrong and even their worse traits are appealing exciting and charming to you. You would defend them against anyone who spoke ill of them. You lived to please them and wouldn’t dream of doing ANYTHING that would offend or upset them. They were the first thing on your mind when you woke and the last thing before bed. Your greatest desire was to learn and know every part of them, what made them tick, happy sad or mad.
This is how I was with God. When I first started my spiritual/religious journey I was determined to become someone god would be proud to call his own. Never having a father God became my father. When I cut off toxic people in my life God filled the emptiness and became my everything. The LAST thing I wanted to do was disappoint him. Maybe this is what made it so easy for me to give up drinking and drugging? All I know is that I easily quit my addictions cold turkey with no withdraws and no desire to go back to the person I was.
My new addiction became learning WHO this god was and I hungered for him like one hungers after their first love. I believed the bible WAS god breathed because it said so; therefore I studied it non stop and often shared many verses with others that took my breath away. Many christians would get angry when I shared these verses and I was shocked at how little people really knew about scripture/god. I loved that my newfound love/god wasn’t the pansy pushover god who loved everybody no matter what they did. I loved how my god was a vengeful god who would punish the wicked and protect his own. I loved how my god was jealous for my love and would not share me with other gods/desires/lusts. My love blinded me to the evil things the bible god did time and time again. Just like most people are blinded and delusional when they first fall head over heals in love with another…
I no longer believe in the god of Abraham Isaac and Jacob that man created. I no longer claim to know so much like I used to do. I question everything especially myself. Some think I left christianity because I was hurt or betrayed by people or a “church.” No. It was the jewish tribal bible and how it hurt the Native people and the Palestinians. I’m very knowledgable of whats written in it enough to know it’s nothing more than a tool for evil men to flourish. That doesn’t make me evil, or lost. It just means I no longer believe in the bible. It’s a book!
As with any break up from a blind love affair it’s painful shameful and embarrassing when we look back at the people we’ve hurt and things we said and did. One thing that’s come out of all this is a soft spot grew in my heart that I’ve never had before. If I never got hooked up with this bible spell my eyes may never have been opened to the worst genocide in history since the birth of the USA against the Native Americans. The Palestinian genocide committed by Israel. It feels so damn good to feel after being numb for so many years and for that I’m forever grateful even if I never live to see justice for those brave and beautiful Arabs of Palestine.
The only things I regret, and the only things I'll ever regret are things I didn't do. In the end, that's what we mourn. The paths we didn't take. The people we didn't touch. ~Scott Spencer, Endless Love
Someone once told me that when an alcoholic quits drinking it can be compared to slamming the brakes on a speeding vehicle. Everything in the back seat comes crashing forward, meaning all of those memories and problems we tried drinking away suddenly come slamming in our faces. I completely agree. Things got very messy when I got sober and I was forced to face a lot of ugly truths. But when I dealt with my past I was finally able to learn and heal from it. A lot of family members got offended and felt threatened because of this but I could no longer forget, move on, and deny things that happened until I embraced, analyzed, and dissected every painful event. THEN I was ready to forgive (not forget) heal and move on. To this day denial is something I can not tolerate. I guess from years of drowning in it while intoxicated. Some wounds unfortunately never heal and we carry the scars for life as a reminder. There is a world full of scarred people each dealing with it in their own way. This is my way.
A LOVE CHILD
I am what some might call a “love child” and others might call a bastard. My mother had an affair with her first husband’s best friend. She got pregnant by him with me. She was 30 and he was 50 when I was born. He stood up at my baptism as my godfather. She had 3 other children before me ages 10, 9, and 6. Four years later Mother got divorced so I never really got to know my birth father or my siblings father at all.
After the divorce we she took me and my sister to live with her and her new boyfriend who was married with children, giving up custody of my brother and oldest sister to their father to live in another state. I didn’t hear from or see them for years later.
As soon as her new boyfriend kicked his wife and 2 young children out of their home, he moved my mother, sister and I in. (Think about that for a minute) Our family was split apart and when I turned 5 they married. The beginning of hell on earth began for us all.
I never saw my real father again until I was around 32. The man who raised me until I was 4 came to visit once in a blue moon but after me begging him to take me away from Step Monster he soon quit coming all together until I grew up and out. Then it was usually a once a year visit which my sister and I both dreaded. To me he was a flirtatious stranger who abandoned and betrayed me. To my older sister he was an horribly physical abusive man.
When I was around 10, Monster kicked my sister out of the house to live with her abusive father and our oldest sister. (My brother had gone into the Navy by this time). Monster had no tolerance for her rebellion against the toxic environment our mother had brought us into. I later learned she endured a horrible hell of her own. I was left heart broken and alone in the house with Mother who often was caught in the middle of the war between Monster and me. She would try to keep peace by taking no sides. I wasn’t afraid to stand up to him. Only one time I saw my mother stand up to her new husband like mama bear protects her cub, and that was when Monster strangled me up against a wall. I thought, “Maybe mom does care and love me?” But that was the last time and Monster kept on with his abuse tactics showing no shame mercy or remorse. Mother said she had no job skills to leave him so we must shut up and endure. After all he was a much better provider than her ex husband
Years later when I was married and had kids of my own, I tracked down Bio Dad and was shocked to learn that I had many OTHER half siblings. During his affair with Mother he was married with 3 kids an his wife knew all about Mother and me, his love child. She stayed married to him until she lost her battle with cancer making him a widow. He then moved in with one of his (many) lovers, an Asian woman, who cared for him until his death. Bio dad never showed any signs of shame, remorse, or guilt, during my very few personal encounters with him; only ugly boastful pride which isn’t an unusual trait for young immature men, but very disturbing to see in the elderly..
I also learned that Bio dad had 4 other daughters with another lucky lady in Hawaii during the same time he was having an affair with Mother. He was a busy man to say the least, traveling back and forth from East to West Coast, not even considering the many lives he was destroying while feeding his psychopathic narcissistic ego. When he passed away at 94 I contacted each of my half Hawaiian sisters but no relationship was formed and rightfully so. I can only imagine the stories and false assumptions on all sides where scars run deep. I respect and love them all from afar knowing we were victims given no choice by those who were supposed to love and protect us, while at the same time brave survivors of something many people never have to endure making us stronger and more resilient than most.
My brother and 2 sisters from Mother’s first marriage each have their own horror stories to tell. Each of them unique making us who we are today. I also learned Bio dad sexually molested my oldest sister and because he was a wealthy highly "respectable" business man Mother never pressed charges. She did what she does best. Ignore it, keep the peace, and move along.
While I have chosen “NO CONTACT with Mother and Monster for very good safety reasons, my siblings still keep contact. He's supposedly a millionaire (he loves to remind us all of that) and they're wringing their hands anticipating his death to collect. For this reason, I cut ties with them as well. I have no respect for people of such moral retardation.
Parenting is the most precious God given gift yet the most abused and under appreciated. I no longer have deep hatred or bitterness for those who hurt me or their enablers BUT because they refuse to face hard truths and choose to deny blame and scapegoat, I must move on. Reconciliation can never happen until the 4 R’s are met and anyone who says you must forgive no matter what is a liar hell bent on keeping you bound in toxicity, bitterness, and self destruction.
We all have a story to tell. Sometimes the first step to healing is sharing it with others. Your story often times helps to set another free!
1) Responsibility -- The perpetrator needs to take complete and absolute responsibility for what they've done. They should not blame it on anyone else, their childhood, bullying, or moon spots. If it was their own decision, they must take full responsibility for having made that decision without justification or excuses.
2) Remorse -- The perpetrator must be truly remorseful. Most people feel bad because they were caught or had to suffer consequences, however, that's not true remorse. The only problem with this step is that no other human being can tell for certain if another is truly remorseful. People can say it, but we don't really know what's in their hearts. Actions speak louder than words.
3) Repair -- The perpetrator must do whatever it takes to repair the damage. Some damage cannot be repaired.
4) Repetition -- The perpetrator must take whatever steps needed so that this action is never repeated.
My first year or two of sobriety I cried A LOT. I rarely ever cried because I saw my mother cry all the time and I didn’t want to be anything like her. So I stuffed my feelings down since I started drinking at age 14. It was uncontrollable crying at times often leading to laughter. My emotions were all over the place like I had left off from that 14 year old little girl in a 40 year old’s body.
I ate and craved junk food and allowed myself to eat whatever I wanted because that was what filled the empty void booze had left. I also waked 3 miles a day and started a blog I named MIND VOMIT because all of my thoughts, the good bad and ugly, were typed out on my little laptop for nobody’s benefit but my own. It was dark and twisty, but so were all the dirty little secrets I was told by my drunk mother to keep.
My back broke out that first year. I’ve never been one to have acne but it was horrible boil-like pimples covering my upper back. I had no idea at the time but I’’m convinced now 8 years later it was alcohol toxins leaving my body.
My surroundings seemed more clear and vibrant, I started noticing things I never did before, I studied religion world cultures and medicine as if my brain was a sponge. I was never a good student in school mind you, I started drinking and drugs at age14.
I cut ties with all of my drinking buddies and abusive family members. I didn’t put myself in positions that would trigger me to drink. Luckily my husband was never a drinker so I didn’t have to deal with any of that.
But I did have to deal with my past to get where I am today and that is the hardest part. Dealing with things we tried to drink away. Not drinking is the easy part of sobriety. Sitting with feelings is the real challenge, that where the work is. So many people fail at sobriety because they refuse to sit alone with themselves and do it. I think it’s the key to a sober peaceful life. It was for me anyway and I encourage it strongly to anyone seriously wanting to be free from the chains of addiction.
I was never the kind of alcoholic to pass out cold in front of my kids or beat my kids or neglect my duties as a wife and mother. I never got DUI’s or DWI’s, I never got arrested or wrecked my car or harmed anyone physically. I wasn’t a visible alcoholic, I was what some might call a “highly functional” alcoholic. On the outside I looked fine, healthy, happy and had lots of friends. But on the inside I was a mess. Alcohol started out fun and became my best friend but over the years became my worst enemy. It became a love hate relationship and I wanted out. The hangovers became unbearable and I would spend the entire day binging on junk food to try and nurse myself back to normalcy. I could go weeks without a drink but once I had one I couldn’t stop. I woke up regretting things I did and said, and hated how bloated my face and body felt and looked. The days I drank I ate very little because I didn’t want the food to ruin my buzz and I didn’t want the extra calories. I had to plan my days around my drinking, even counting the hangover recovery day which limited things I could do. Drinking wasted a lot of precious time. It killed any and all self esteem and respect I had which was very little compared to what I have today. I was out of control and wine controlled me. I hated it. I tried quitting many times and told myself I would only drink on weekends which never worked because something always came up that warranted a drink and everyone I knew agreed that I deserved it. It was harder for me to quit cigarettes than booze which is surprising since the whole world supports and congratulates you when you quit smoking but when you quit drinking you’re met with shame, pity, and mockery. But for me, cigarettes didn’t have as many negative effects as wine did. They didn’t give me hangovers or make me act and look like shit and they didn’t limit the things I could and couldn’t do like driving and waking up early and running my kids here and there. People always ask me how I did it and honestly the only answer I can give is that I honestly just got sick and tired of feeling like crap! It was hard as hell, there is no easy secret recipe and willpower won’t do it either. You have to really really want to quit. I no longer enjoyed the person I became when I drank. I wanted peace. I never knew just how good sobriety could be until now. I look at the person I’ve become in these 8 years and the things I went through and overcame to get here and I’m filled with gratitude and relief. I’m relieved to finally be in control of my life. I'm relieved to be free from constant drama. Relieved to not depend on a drug to have fun and laugh and be crazy. Sure, I lost a lot of friends and family because of it but that’s the price to pay for peace and for me peace is priceless. If anyone is suffering from addiction it’s never too late as long as you’re alive. I promise you that you won’t regret it, if it’s truly what you want. I have no regrets and I wouldn’t go back to that misery for anything.
Me with Jimmy Lee, the man I was told to believe was my real father. I only lived with him for the first 4 years of my life before he and my mother divorced splitting us siblings apart. One of my earliest and fondest childhood memories is riding with him early mornings on his mare "Sweetie Pie" while looking for rabbits , and him singing a song he made just for me called "Old Hardhead." I still to this day love horses with a passion.
My bio dad Bill and me. (Below) He was a very close friend of the family and when I was baptized as an infant he stood up as my Godfather. The family all knew about the affair and me being a product of it but kept it secret for many years until in my late teens, although mother hinted many times she had hoped I was HIS daughter and not her husbands since Bill was such a "wonderful" man. (Until Bill died and left me a large sum of money in his will leaving mother nothing. Then he became a monster who molested my oldest sister when she was younger) Now I know why one of the horses we had was named "Sweet William." He was a gift from Bill to mother.
The term daddy issues insinuates it’s the child’s fault. Women are oftentimes made to take responsibility for things they had no control over. They’re expected to take responsibility for the various crimes men have committed against them. Women who have daddy issues are because of their fathers, and no fault of her own.
Bill on "Sweetie Pie"
Mother and me on "Sweet William"
Me & Bill
My baptism Feb 14, 1971
Mother on the left, Bill on the right, and mothers best friend Dotty holding me. Bill was much older than mother, I believe he was 50 here and she was 30. Bill was 94 when he passed away just a few years ago.
(Below) Bill with his Hawaiian lover and their 4 daughters. Photo taken 1972 Diamond Head, Hawaii.
The first time I met bio dad Bill and his wife Avis since we left Thurmont Md. My daughter is on my lap. (2001)
Halloween 1974
My brother Bryan the Scarecrow, My sister Leandra the Lion (Sissy as Toto) my sister Lisa as Tin Man, and me as Dorothy.
Below: visiting Washington D.C. with Jimmy Lee and my sisters. Gee I was a happy child LOL!!!
Me and Mom in Leesburg after she left Jimmy Lee to be with Jim T.
Washing D.C. Smithsonian
Me with my brother and sisters Sissy and Jimmy Lee
Me with my first child in 1997 on the back of Mother and Monster's boat. I guess I can thank Mother and Bill for at least one good thing. Good genes. I bounced back to my pre-pregnancy figure within days after giving birth.
(Below) Nola my half sister, and full daughter of bio dad Bill and his wife Avis. Mother often bragged to me about how beautiful Nola was and how she had won Miss USA in the 1960's. Bill produced many beautiful daughters and granddaughters.
Nola 1960's
Nola with Bob Hope 1960's
This (below) is my half sister's daughter, Eden who is currently in the finals of Miss California/USA 2016
Me at the Charlie Daniels Concert in 2004..Tattoo is fake
Playing around with the camera 2004
I learned early on my "worth" was in my looks. Mother always told me how beautiful I was, while Step Monster called me the human garbage disposal, refrigerator, and other wonderful things a young girl loves to hear. Never having a "daddy" I loved the attention I got from men when I got older. When I was 10 mother and step monster took me to see Endless Love with Brooke Shields since I idolized Brooke. I searched high and low for the kind of "true love" the movie portrayed. Sex was a very open subject in the house I grew up in and I was told over and over again to let mom know if I was having sex so they could put me on the pill.Click me!
Our beautiful horses from the past 2007/2012. I've always loved and respected the untamed wild spirit of horses and hated seeing bits bridles and saddles on them. I learned to love riding bareback and being one with the horse and often envied how the Native Americans had a special bond and understanding with the equine world that the Europeans never did.
My daughter's horse Teddy
My boy Winner
A PLACE WHERE THE HORSES ROAM FREE
They adorn them with shiny buckles and leather, colorful fabrics and patterns, steel bits and shoes and tie downs to control their every move, demanding them to move gracefully on unnatural ground for spectators eyes. These horses aren’t free, they’re owned. Although their masters claim to love and care for them with only the best of things, they function not in tune with their natural born state, but conformed into something to satisfy their owner’s expectations. Much like a trophy.
Until one day they are used up and too old to satisfy their masters desires, and these horses who've devoted their entire lives to benefit the well being of others, is unwanted and discarded. Too old for another to desire. Their natural born state is forever broken and forgotten. No fight left in them to care, the inner beauty has become a mirror of the outward and people walk past without a notice. She remembers how it was in her younger nobler days. Not a care in the world, no tie downs or demands or reprimands for being who she was born to be. The only thing left for her to do is to dream. So she dreams. She dreams of a place where the horses roam free…
It's funny how mother would often praise me on my looks while her psychotic husband, the Monster, constantly bombarded me with insults. He always called me a PreMadonna, which I had absolutely no idea what that meant and was too afraid to ask anyone. He told me how fat I was (which I was far from fat) and still I struggle with weight issues today. It wasn't until I turned 12 or 13 he started flattering me on occasion and although it felt kinda good it always came with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When I grew up and had children he would come up and watch me breast feed. With no shame at all he would come right up on me practically breathing down my neck and with the most perverted smile he would watch. Mother would tell him to stop it while she would leave the room and eventually he would walk away. Have you ever seen the movie with Kevin Costner called "Mr. Brooks?" At the end of the movie there is a dream scene he has about his daughter. That is the movie clip that runs through my head whenever I think about those days. He turned a what was supposed to be a special moment of bonding into a sick perverted joy ride for himself. Mr. Brooks Movie Trailer
I still lived in the same neighborhood as mother and step monster for years after I cut ties with them. (My husband lived on the next street over years before I met him. They stalk us by doing drive byes or drop things off at my doorstep like my wedding pictures and other things mother didn’t want anymore. I had to get a restraining order to keep her off my property so now I just get the occasional nasty email from her. Moving was a very sore subject in our house. My husband refused to move us away even though we feel like prisoners in our own home. For me it's a place where too many memories haunt me like a night mare that I can't wake up from. Step monster even taunted my kids while out walking the neighborhood with their friends. I seriously didn’t see any healing taking place until I could fly far far away from that childhood ghost town.
Remember Jenny in Forest Gump?
I'm still waiting for God to answer my prayer like he did for Jenny.
In order for me to stay sober I had to cut ties with my birth family. I just recently reconciled with them after 8 years of no contact, and it has only confirmed that what I did was right. I have evolved a lot over those 8 years, and they have not. I look at my life now, what I have and who I’ve become, and I know without a doubt that none of it would be possible had I kept my relationship with them. Many people think just because they’re “family” they somehow have a right to abuse you and you just have to deal with it. This is a recipe for disaster for staying sober and will prevent you from ever getting to a healthy place within yourself.
If your family can’t respect your boundaries, then they do not deserve a place in your life. If you want to remain sober you must believe this without guilt or regret. Of course it won’t be easy but trust me it’s a guarantee for your success towards a lifetime of sobriety.
Examples of boundaries: you want nothing to do with your sexual abusive family member (not even a mention of their name) If your family can’t respect this boundary, you must go no contact. Another boundary example: they can no longer deny family traumas/abuse that caused you to turn to addiction. If they keep making excuses or worse yet, call you a liar, you must go no contact. Your peace and health and happiness are priceless. It will be worth any pain this will cause you or your toxic family members. I don’t agree with “blood is thicker than water.” I believe family can be people who are unrelated to you. Family will respect you, they will validate your abuse, they will not defend your abuser or make excuses for them. They will protect you. And they will respect your boundaries and abide by them without a fuss. Once you feel safe from people who have done nothing but cause you harm and turmoil, then your chances of recovery increase ten fold and you will start to heal those wounds that are rooted within your addiction. I’m living proof of that and seeing my birth family after 8 years of absence makes everything so much more clear. All I want is the same for others. (This does not mean you are being unloving and unforgiving. Forgiveness does not always equal reconciliation, and in order to love others you must first love yourself. That is the greatest gift of love you can give others
I've never really fit into a clique or group of any kind. Even when I was into the christian cult I was an outcast from the rest because I went strictly by the good book. Most Christians claim christianity yet deny and reject most of its teachings regarding forgiveness (when and IF it's required), repentance, who to shun and who not to shun. I've always been different and somewhat of a loner although never a recluse until the past 4 years. Since 2012 I've been on some sort of quest for truth and because of this it's caused a separation from both friends and family, either by their choice or my own. It's strange once you start seeing things for what they really are and speak up about it people scatter as if you're pouring salt into open wounds. Truth being the salt and wounds being secrets zipped up tight. My car (see beginning paragraph) has come to an abrupt halt and while I'm dealing with the messy cargo that's come crashing into me, others are still speeding hysterically ahead to oblivion.
Just because Mother and men would compliment my looks don't think for a minute that I had a high self worth. I lacked in self confidence BIG TIME. Those negative scornful words from Monster's mouth sunk deeper than any positive ones. In boarding school I suffered from bulimia. Not to the point of needing medical help but I often threw up meals and had not one ounce of fat on my body. Although looking in the mirror I saw a fat ugly slob. It carried into high school (and into my adult life) and I was a very jealous girlfriend. When I found my boyfriends looking at other girls or porn I took it personally. Even into my marriage this was an issue and just to make sure my mates loved me I had to make sure they SAW the attentions I got from other men to SHOW them I was pretty and worthy of their love.
This (above) is Marvin and me on Prom night 1986. Marvin was more like a brother to me, although he was my boyfriend for 2 years and eventually bought me an engagement ring. We both were too young and dumb to know any better but our parents obliged. Mother and Monster would often times drop me off to live with Marvin for a week or so on their farm so they could go on cruises and other elaborate vacations. Marvin's mom and dad were like real parents to me and I loved them both dearly. They ran a dairy farm and I learned a lot about country folks, farm life and developed a deep love for the outdoors and the simple things. Some of my greatest memories are during those times and Marvin's gift was making people laugh. It was never a dull moment when hanging out with Marvin. Unfortunately I was introduced to many drugs and developed a strong tolerance to hard core partying and this became an outlet to escape my home life which sucked tremendously. I can still remember sitting in my driveway with Marvin in his little red pick up truck dreading going in the house not knowing what kind of mood the Monster would be in. My home life was a living hell and partying with Marvin and his friends was my escape. School was never a priority and it's a wonder I even graduated. Marvin was a high school drop out and a few years older than me so every morning before school we would drive around back roads and get high. After school Marvin would be there to pick me up and we'd do it all again until it was time to go home at night. This went on my entire Sophomore and Junior years in high school without a whimper of disdain from Mother or Monster. You always hear horror stories of parents or cops walking in on teenage lovers, right? Well, Marvin and I experienced both. One night with a cop and another at my house with the "parents". Monster didn't get mad at all. He just stood their with that perverted grin on his face (he's so good at) while Mother yelled from a distance (she's so good at) "Stop staring and let them get dressed!" Wonderful memories I can now laugh about I guess. Marvin passed away this year in 2016 and his father a week later; I just found out last night that his lovely mother passed away. I will always love Marvin as my best friend who was always there to make me laugh in the darkest times of my life.
A brief synopsis: At 4 my parents divorced and mother moved us in with step Monster, after he kicked his 2 young kids and wife out of their home.
Mom met monster at the mall where she worked selling pianos and organs. Monster came in with his wife and an affair was born.
Age birth to 4 I lived with my brother, two sister‘s mother and who I thought was my bio dad Jimmy Lee in Maryland. Ages 11-13, I lived full time in 2 different Catholic all girls boarding schools. At 14, I went back home to live and into public school and boys, drinking, and drugs. At 19 I met my now husband who was 32, (I moved into his house that he bought with his ex-girlfriend, which just happened to be in the same neighborhood I grew up in) at 23 we got married, at 26 I had our first child, second child at 28 and third child at 31. My husband is a Veterinarian and anyone who knows a good doctor from a bad doctor knows good doctors always put their patients/practice first. Bad doctors put their families hobbies and self first. My husband is the greatest Vet in town and at first this bothered me, being played second fiddle. But today I have no regrets or bitterness about it whatsoever. My kids were my everything and through them I lived the childhood I never had. I made my first scarecrow, carved pumpkins, baked cookies and champion fair cakes, made snowmen and went sledding, flew kites and raised puppies and kittens, and made my childhood dream finally come true with horses. When I met my husband I was still a rebel party girl and "sex kitten" as some would say, but I was worn down and out from the party life and craved stability and safety. For whatever reason the good doctor took me in. I did calm down a lot and was happy with our routine of going out to dinner and movies and being a home body, which I’ve always been. Steve paid my way through nursing school and I worked up until I was ordered bedrest with my first pregnancy. I never was career driven and we sacrificed much so that I could stay home and raise our kids. We didn’t drive fancy cars, we lived in a one level brick rambler with one bathroom (yes, we all five shared one bathroom) three bedroom home, so the kids had to share a bedroom and I shopped secondhand stores for our clothes. The kids friends all lived in the newer neighborhood with bigger fancier, houses, and toys, but for some reason, they always wanted to hang out at our house. I made our house a home a safe place unlike anything I ever had growing up. I loved being a mother.
Steve delivering a calf on a hot summers day!
Today 2017 my son is in college and 2 daughters in high school. I've been sober for almost 5 years and incognito studying and learning more in those years about religion, my country and its history that most will ever learn about in a lifetime. One doesn't need to travel the world to know these things. I sometimes miss the mind numbing substances that deadened painful memories. I sometimes want to forget the things I've learned. But I never want to go back to addiction self loathing and hangovers.
The best thing about sobriety is NO MORE HANGOVERS! No more waking up at 3 am regretting what I did, no more waking up with my tongue so dry it’s 5x it’s normal size, feeling like I’m going to puke and my head pounding with every breath. No more cancelling plans I knew I would never keep on recovery Sunday. No more laying on the couch scarfing down carbs all day watching crappy TV on a beautiful sunny day. No more ignoring phone calls due to painful guilt and shame for the night before. Or worse yet, trying to remember what the hell I did the night before. No more bloated face, saggy blood shot eyes and horrible smelly bathroom visits which couldn’t hide how badly I poisoned myself while “living it up and unwinding.” No more looks of pity from my husband who bought me coffee from my favorite place, only I was too sick to even smell it let alone drink it. No more hating myself for having lost control yet again! Sobriety isn’t something I have to do, it’s something I get to do, because I have the power now.. not the drug. I get to wake up every morning knowing I never have to experience those humiliating feelings ever again. So for those who pity us boring sober folks, it's the other way around.
(Below) My husband and I before we got married around 1992
1994 our Wedding day
Us in 2006
I remember the time I ran away from home I was around 16. My best friend Christina came over to visit whom I hadn't seen in about a year. She got pregnant by her boyfriend when we were Sophomores in high school and ended up dropping out of school and getting married at her parents request. The guy was a controlling jerk, around 27 years old. Anyway, she ended up leaving her husband and her little boy and was pretty much running wild and free. One rainy day she came over to visit me at my parents house. After she left I wanted so bad to go with Christina but Mother said no. I told her I was going and we got into a huge fight so I ran out of the house and into the pouring rain. She chased after me in her car but I was running through neighbors back yards hiding from and ignoring her frantic angry shouts from the road. Eventually she gave up and I hooked up with Christina. I think I was gone for about a week before the fun quickly ended when the cops busted a bunch of us partying. They called my parents but Christina had a way with words and they ended up letting her go. On the way home in the back of the cop cruiser I begged that officer in all sincerity not to take me back home even telling him what a pervert the Monster was. The cop tried to reassure me he would take care of things. When we got home I had to wait in his cruiser while he went inside to talk with Mother and Monster. When he came out they were all 3 laughing and talking like good timing friends. I was told to get out, go home and stay out of trouble, everything was fine. Monster had a way with words and often put on a very charming mask to hide his psychopathic ways. I knew right away he had fooled that dumb old cop with his cowardly lies. Ever since that day I've never trusted cops. They've given me no reason to even since that dreadful hellish day.
Christina and I went to the same all-girls Catholic boarding school in the 8th grade but never even spoke until our Freshmen year in public high school. Christina was every man's fantasy and although people thought we were sisters because we hung out so much together, I was no match compared to her. She even ended up dating one of those pigs/cops who was married and about 20 years older than her but that quickly ended when he was through with her, giving me another reason to distrust cops.
Christina (right) & me (left) partying on back roads :)
This is what cop cruisers looked like in my hometown back in the day~
Our friendship took off fast and every weekend I spent over at her house. She lived in a beautiful 3 story log house and had no restrictions or rules. I loved her family. Her bedroom was the entire 3rd story loft and we would sit up there and smoke cigarettes. This just happened to be the place I lost my virginity. He was a senior football player and we dated my entire freshmen year. I'm not proud of how I lost my innocence but I guess there are worse stories than mine. Still stuck in this small town that I can't seem to escape I can't help but remember those wild and crazy days whenever I drive by that old house, which thankfully is very rare. I wish I knew where Christina was today but I haven't seen or heard from her in over 20 years. She too was running from her own demons and grew up way before her time.
I used to think God was the reason my kids are nothing like I used to be, but I no longer believe I'm any more special or loved by God than someone else who's daughter lost her virginity too young through rape incest or just wildness and stupidity like me. For whatever reason my girls are still pure innocent and modest. They are not into boys fashion popularity drugs or other teenage fads. Maybe it's because I was around for them, did things with them, and didn't coddle them but was completely open with them about everything. I think it's just luck that they are who they are but whatever the reason I'm extremely grateful they're nothing like I was at that age.
My husband and I with our 3 awesome kids who are nothing like me (2016)
My Freshmen year I had a steady boyfriend, my Sophomore and Junior year I was with Marvin, and my Senior year I was with Charlie who was about 5 or 6 years older than me. Charlie brought me into the world of hard drugs and alcohol. Things got much crazier and way out of hand sometimes. Although he did seem to love and take care of me in many ways, alcoholics always bring pain on one another. My plan after graduation was to rent a townhouse with a girlfriend and go to work since I was told from a very young age that college was out of the question for me. My girlfriend backed out at the last minute leaving me with a choice. Either I kept living at home or I moved into the Townhouse with Charlie as my roommate . For years I promised myself that I was moving out the day after graduation so that's what I did. The day after graduation, at 17 years of age I flew the coop. Although I went to work full-time, and life was one big party. Our little townhouse was a hot spot for wild all nighters and it seemed I was finally free from hell on earth. From living in chaos and destruction, I was used to it and that was normal to me. I created it in my new life. It all carried over and my drinking got much worse. I couldn’t hold down a job because the hangovers prevented me from being on time at work. I begged my mom to let me come back home at one point and thank God she refused This went on for about 2 years until I finally started to burn out. I was growing tired of the endless party and longed for stability. I applied for a Vet Tech position and it wasn't long before I found myself falling in love with the Veterinarian. Charlie and I ended and Steve and I began. After 4 months of dating I moved in with him and 4 years later we married. It was a relief to find someone responsible respectable and grounded. Steve didn't drink, smoke or party and wasn’t a flirtatious man whore. I fell head over heals. Even though he was 12 1/2 years my senior neither of us minded. I knew I would never marry a heavy drinking womanizing party guy from my small hometown and I’m grateful I stuck with my standards in a lifelong partner. No marriage is perfect but I wouldn’t trade safety comfort and stability for anything. Especially when I didn’t have any of that growing up.
Charlie & me with our dog "Bo"
I didn't miss the endless party life but as a woman in my early 20’s I still loved going out to socialize once in a while. However, Steve wasn't a socializer. He worked hard and often so was too tired to go out. One time I convinced him to take me dancing at a club. Soon after arriving the bartender brought me a drink saying it was from some guy at another table. Steve was furious. That was the last time we went out for drinks. A couple times I would rebel and go out with a friend then sneak into bed at 2 or 3 am. My few outbursts of rebellion sometimes caused waves but we survived. (Steve never yells or explodes in anger like I’m used to seeing in men.) Kids pretty much ended those occasions, so I would drink at home instead and have fun dancing with the kids or other neighborhood moms. As I got older in my 30’s beer and liquor changed to wine and it became my comforter and best friend.
I think I always went for older men because of the "father figure" thing. I used to feel like one big disappointment for things I put my husband through but now I see it in a different light. Not a bitter light just a clearer one. Steve chose a teenage wild sex symbol for a life partner. If he wanted a goody two-shoes or a brilliant strait laced scholar or successful career driven woman his own age, he would have looked for that, but he didn't. He wanted me and everything I was and had to offer. I'm not who I used to be but I will never be a strait laced goody two-shoes play by the rules kinda girl. He knows it, I know it, my kids know it, and whoever knows me knows it. I'm not changing who I am even if I could.
Heather was my best friend from Elementary school til 9th grade. We were complete opposites but got along great. She was popular, blonde, straight A student, active in sports and music, and I was not. We used to pretend she was Olivia Newton John and I was Brooke Shields. Heather witnessed many times how mean Monster was and often felt sorry that I had to live with it. Her little dog and my dog loved each other and since we lived a couple houses away from one another they would sometimes meet up and play. My little dog Missy was also my best friend. When Monster kicked my sister out of our house to live with her dad and our other sister in NC. She would sit and wait by the mailbox for me to come home from school and as soon as she saw me come over the hill she’d race to greet me. Missy hated Monster too and would tremble whenever he came into the room shouting in his usual loud deep voice. Every pet we had as a child and an adult, hated him. Animals know evil when they see it.
Anyway, Heather and I would do lots of crazy things together. One day we stole our mom's "Kool" cigarettes and smoked them in our woods out back. I smoked too many and ended up crawling home sick to death. Heather just laughed. The Monster caught us once looking at Mother’s dirty magazines and instead of getting mad he just laughed at us. One night Heather slept over and we watched the Exorcist, one of our favorites. When we went to bed I kept making the deep throated voice Linda Blaire made in the movie to scare Heather, and when she screamed Monster threatened to make her walk home in the dark if we didn’t shut up. We were quiet as mice after that. When I came back from my two year hiatus of boarding school, I found out Heather had lost her virginity. I was shocked to also learn that I was one of the few virgins left among the girls we knew. Of course I often heard my parents harp on me to inform them if I was “sexually active” so they could put me on the pill. When the opportunity came I thought, why the hell not. Heather and I double dated at Prom our Freshmen year but after that we drifted apart. I got into the “bad” crowd and Heather remained a good student with the populars, although far from innocent they were. We never really reunited as best friends but many great memories remain.
Bobby & Me.. my freshman year Prom
My Step Monster
I met him at 4 years old and at 6 he became my legal guardian. At first site he was tall dark and handsome, charming even. But the mask didn’t last long and his rotten heart soon clouded my life with a suffocating stench of evil. He had bad temper attacks followed by days of silent treatments. It was like walking through a war zone not knowing what step would trigger a blow up. In public he was very funny, a jokester whom everyone laughed at and admired but behind closed doors Mother and I knew the true monster that he was. Mother would always cry the most pathetic way imaginable when he would start in on us, but I always struggled to hold back laughter which would really set him off. For some reason when I got really nervous I would start to laugh, still do, and he saw this as mocking him. His face would get deep purple almost black, since he has very dark skin to begin with, and his ears would go back like a rabid dog. Some people can move their ears, some can’t. He could do it very well. When his ears started to twitch and his scalp would slide back off his face, I knew to watch out. After these temper tantrums of screaming at Mother and me, he would then go into the silent treatment and ignore us for a few days. She would talk to him and he would pretend she wasn’t even there, yet spoke to others with laughter and joy right in front of her. Mother would tell me all is well, he’s just cooling off and when he was cool it was like nothing ever happened and things would go back to normal again. Until the next wrong step was taken in the mine field of the unknowns. Not all abuse is physical with bruises and blood. Words can kill a child creating a shattered adult. A man shaking his wrinkly old penis at a child can also screw with a child's mind. Not all sexual abuse is physical. Monster thought he was beautiful because he would often flit around the house in his underwear, the saggy kind with rips and holes in them making sure things were seen that shouldn't have been, and then jokingly asking if it bothered me.
I’ve never had a positive bubbly peaceful personality. I’ve always been a little rough around the edges, quick tempered, anxious and defensive. I HAD to be. Some say we can’t blame our childhood on who we are but that’s a lie. The way we were raised affects us very deeply. Orphan children have horrible scars within them that they never heal from due to lack of touch and emotional love. Dogs and horses who’ve been abused and neglected have huge trust issues and often times never fully recover. I’m not saying it does any good to hold onto a victim mentality or blame people and experiences for all of our failures in life. We need to take responsibility for our actions and try to be the best we can be. But sadly, sometimes that just isn’t good enough. Some are forever broken and no amount of glue can put us back together again. Life offers us things that can take the edge off and give us pleasure and comfort and I don’t see anything wrong with comforting and feeding our flesh; something christianity says is a big no no. Die to the flesh, die to self, die to the world, die ,die, die. I want to live! I want to love and feel and be me. I’ll never be that person who trusts people and sees the good in all. I’m a romantic, I laugh way too loud, I love love songs and sad romantic movies, but I have trust issues. I’m broken. But I am alive, and I do have passions, and I get angry and defensive when people tell me to calm down about those passions and not get angry about injustice. I was told as a kid to shut up and calm down about injustice and now I want nothing to do with people who defend it. I want to comfort my flesh, not deny and kill it. True love never tries to cage or control another.
Remember the movie "Fun with Dick and Jane" with Jim Carey? I remember my friend and neighbor a few years back told me NEVER to go see that movie because it was horrible and she hated it. So I didn't bother going to see it when it came out in theaters. But I did rent it a couple of years later and while I was watching it, I understood WHY she didn't want me to see it and WHY she hated it. Because it showed her exactly how she was. It showed how disgusting she and her high class cookie cutter neighborhood lifestyle was. It hit home. It hit her hard and where it counts. Have you ever seen the movie "Thelma and Louise"? It's an awesome movie and one of my all time favorites. My husband hated it with a passion, for the same reasons as my neighbor.
It seems to me that people who don't fit into society's mold of "normal" are labeled troubled and weird. But when you start to see the injustice and craziness and pain in the world I start to look at those who "go with the flow" or remain "calm cool and collected", as the real troubled crazy ones. My older sister Lisa was always the black sheep of the family, before I became the black sheep, and it was because she was so different. She was quiet and never got into religion. I remember when she had her first child my brother used to pester her about getting into a church for the baby's sake. What a crock of shit. Lisa was into the occult, black magic, and thought much like the Native American way as far as reincarnation and the animal kingdom being our brethren. She was very spiritual just not religious. She rebelled against the insane household our mother created for us and because of that Monster and Mother had her shipped away for good. She had her faults, she is a human after all. But she never fit into the sick mold society has told us to conform to. My sister Lisa and I went through hell together and we were all we had during that hell storm. I will always hold a special spot in my heart for my sister and often times laugh out loud when memories come flooding in of our short time growing up together and wish we could some day be close again....
I only have a few memories of Jimmy Lee, the man I thought was my bio dad growing up. After the divorce his visits were few and far between but those times were often spent at a little run down motel just down the road where I lived with Mother, Monster, and my older sister, Lisa. I remember he had packed us sandwiches for lunch and when I bit down on my sandwich the bread was soaking wet. I almost vomited it was so disgusting, but he told me it was good "now eat it!" When I started gagging he finally gave up so I went without. He then made me lay on the bed with him to watch 60 minutes which bored me to death. Things got more interesting when he started fondling me. I just curled up into a tight ball and my heart was racing. He left me alone. When the next visitation rolled around, I begged Mother to allow Heather to come along with me and she finally agreed. This time,Heather and I decided to run away. We went outside behind the grungy little motel shack, which was owned by a husband and wife who named it "Weona Villa Motel" (Pronounced WE OWN A VILLA) Thank goodness that dump is now closed down. However, I have to drive past it every single day since it’s on the only roadway to get home. I told Heather to start running and we ran through the back field which was waste high in grass until we could run no more. We sat down and talked, I don't even remember what we talked about but I do remember hearing the cop sirens and seeing blue cop lights. We both got really scared and when we ran back to the motel the cops were talking with Jimmy Lee. He acted really concerned but not mad, the cops left, and Heather and I went home. There were no more "motel" visitations after that. In fact, that may have been the last time Jimmy Lee ever came to visit me while I was a minor. I recall Mother and Monster chasing Jimmy Lee down for child support during my growing up years and he was very good at moving around to dodge that payment. But now that I think of it, they should have chased down the REAL man who was responsible to pay, who had LOADS of money. Daddy Bill. But that would have created a bad image on Mother so they couldn't do that. Instead they spent years trying to pin down a man who didn't owe a dime on my behalf. They expected Jimmy Lee to financially support the child Mother had while fucking another man. What a fucked up bunch of people.
For whatever reason, Jimmy Lee hated my sister Lisa with a passion and I recall stories from Mother of him beating my sister with the belt, buckle end. When Monster and Mother shipped my sister away to live with Jimmy Lee that was a death sentence for her. She lived her own hellish nightmare during that year or so and it's a wonder she even went to his funeral when he died. I sure as hell wouldn't have. And I didn't. To me Jimmy Lee was a perverted old man. A stranger. To my sister Lisa he was a hateful monster out for blood. Each of my siblings have different experiences with him just as we each have our own unique story of life after divorce and what it does to a young child. And how it made us into who we are today. We all suffered from sexual abuse. Some physical, some psychological, and some both, while mother did nothing but stand idly by, telling us to shut up and get over it. Once I started to speak out, I became the black sheep in the family. I am now the enemy and my oldest sister wishes I was never even born. In order to have the courage to cut ties with my toxic birth family I knew I had to do it sober because alcohol only makes you weak and out of control.It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but I have zero regrets.
The story of the crab pot explains how sometimes those closest to you are your worst allies and least supportive when it comes to healing and rising above
My brother Bryan and me on "Sweet William" named after Bill. 1973
Me & "Sweetie Pie"
I would often run around the farm wild and free with my stick and my brothers English Setter dog, "Chance." 1973
(Below) The beautiful old farm house in Thurmont Md. which daddy Bill owned and allowed us to live in for a couple of years before the divorce, buying us 4 beautiful horses to enjoy along with it. For years I would have re-occuring dreams about this house. In one of these dreams, I would be flying over the tree tops and down below me Step Monster was yelling and chasing after me. For some reason the dreams stopped once I had children of my own. I still love old houses to this day and currently (2024) live in an 1850 farmhouse.
Daddy Bill with one of his Saint Bernard's. I've always loved this breed.
When I was first told I would be going away to boarding school there was excitement because I really didn't have many friends or a happy home life with Lisa gone. But then fear settled in. When Mother dropped me off at the all girls Catholic school, Visitation Academy, I remember crying and begging her not to leave me but of course she had to. This was Monsters idea after all which gave them plenty of opportunity to travel without having to hire a "baby sitter" since Lisa was no longer around. Mother did keep me up to date with many post cards (I still have) from their many cruises and travels telling me what a wonderful time they were having and if I was good someday I could go too. She looks so happy and beautiful.
Visitation Academy was run by staunch nuns and which once served as a hospital for soldiers of war so there was much history to it with a certain erie feel. The nuns wore the typical black and white garb but were extremely mean. There were times I had to scrub a long winding staircase with a toothbrush. I still can't remember what I did to be given that lovely task. The food was gross and the cook was an obese sweaty wart-faced witch who would threaten us if not every morsel was eaten. Ruler smacks by the nuns kept even the most mouthy ones in line. There was Catholic mass every a.m. and p.m. as part of our educational "curriculum." I learned how to say the Hail Mary and "Our Father" quickly but I never did partake in "Confession." Thankfully, my parents told the nuns I didn't have to do this because I was "Lutheran" and they agreed. One of my best friends, Tammy would often go into the caretaker's shack. He was a little old bald Phillipino man who maintained the grounds and buildings. I never knew why they would go off alone until one day she told me to come with her and when I saw what he did to her I ran the hell out and never mentioned it again. Let's just say that creep should have his saggy old balls ripped out and shoved down his throat. We were only 11 year olds for fucks sake!
I did make some pretty awesome friends at Visitation Academy and I still keep in touch with one through Facebook. I even have pictures of the crazy things we would do to occupy our time there. Girls from all over the world boarded at Visitation and at Christmas Time they would all go home for a month long break. Monster and Mother were late picking me up due to their airplane delay at the airport because of a snow storm that blew in, I guess out of nowhere. All the other girls were gone and I was alone in that creepy old school with creepy old nuns. I remember someone taking me to McDonalds to pass the time for my first chicken McNuggets ever, fries, apple pie and a hot fudge sundae. It tasted damn good but still I was scared to death and wanted to go home like all my other friends did. Monster and Mother eventually did come of course. The second all girls Catholic boarding school I went to the following year was much better. The nuns were much nicer and I learned how to snow ski, took riding lessons, and made a handful of awesome friends. I learned nothing at all however as far as school studies go and was very far behind when I entered the public school system. But I did learn a lot about how damaged other people are and how I would NEVER ever send my children away for my own convenience.
Some of the drugs I've done in my lifetime include:
Marijuana
Acid
Crank
Crack
Cocaine
Mushrooms
Uppers
Downers
Alcohol
Cigarettes
Today I'm free from all substance abuse.
People always pronounced or spelled my name wrong. They either called me Laaaara, like how the "a" in air sounds, or Laura like Dora sounds. The "a" is pronounced as it is in the word star or car. Lara. Anyway, whenever I complained about it to Mother she always said, "Just tell them you were named after Lara in the Movie "Dr. Zhivago". So I did. It wasn't until years later that I finally watched the movie. Let's just say I wasn't impressed by the movie or Lara's character. I guess Bill and Mother were impressed enough to name their own daughter after her. Lara's Theme Song
After Marvin and I split there was a period of time I was single and free. I went to a lot of parties and that's how I met Jamie. He was 27 and I was a senior in high school Jamie was known to throw the best of the best (coke) parties. He had a little retreat in the woods and it became my go to place when shit hit the fan at home. Jamie was an airplane mechanic for a big commercial airline company and worked nights so I pretty much had his house all to myself when it wasn't full of partiers. Many times I would hitchhike to and from his house and he never minded when I slipped into his bed unannounced in the middle of the nights he wasn't working. He was sort of like a big brother and provided me with lots of free drugs. We never loved each other but I guess you could say we dated, since I did take him home to meet the parents. He sent me expensive perfumes when away on business trips causing Monster to blurt out "This one's a keeper!" I guess he made an impression on my sister- in- law too since she wasn't shy in making that known the first and last time I brought him home.
I remember one party I ended up spending the night at, not sure whose house it was or how I even got there, but that's the night I met Charlie. Charlie was a sweet sensitive man with a feminine side to him. Maybe because he had 2 sisters and no brothers? Anyway, This song Click Me!came on and Charlie sang it perfectly in tune. I was instantly attracted. Charlie drove me home from the party and it went on from there. Charlie loved me like no other man ever has. He protected me, defended me, and would swim through shark infested waters for me. When my high school class went to "Beach week' before graduation Charlie went with us. While my friends were playing arcades and sunbathing, Charlie and I were bar-hopping. One club we went to had an awesome and packed dance floor. A young woman, what I like to call "White Trash" spit in my face as we walked across the dance floor. Not sure what crawled up her ass but Charlie wasted no time in punching her in the face knocking her on the floor. Needless to say, "The Trash" pressed charges and Charlie of course lost having to pay heavy fines. At one of our townhouse parties Jamie showed up. I don't even know what happened but Charlie ended up stabbing Jamie causing jail time for a few days. At one of Charlie's friends wedding, the Bride's drunk mother didn't like how I was dancing and stumbled over to tell me I had to leave. Charlie told her to fuck off and we got escorted out of the wedding. It had rained a lot the night before and Charlie took advantage of it by flinging mud all over with his Mustang as we left the property. It was an outdoor wedding so the entire wedding party and guest list got to witness the muddy mess along with our middle fingers held high out of the car windows. I hate what alcohol does to people and I’m sorry to all those involved that day.
Charlie and me drinking a favorite drink, "Early Times"
I cared very much for Charlie even though we were both broken and toxic to ourselves and others. I feel bad whenever I think of the pain I put him through not only when I left him for my husband but for other things I did to hurt him. No body deserves that especially Charlie. He was the kind of person that would protect his own and those he loved and wasn't afraid to show it. I will always hold a special spot in my heart for him and I hope he's doing well in the world. (Charlie passed away in 2019)
My brother Bryan at 19 (1979)
My brother Bryan and I never really grew up together. We were split apart when I was 4 and he was 14 because of the divorce. He went into the Navy and made something of himself when he could have easily turned in the opposite direction. I actually tried to follow in his footsteps by joining the Air force at 19 since that was the only branch of Service that allowed women to keep their long hair, but I kept flunking the math test and never made it in. Bryan would ask me to set him up with my friends older cousins when he came home to visit on military leave. I loved when he came home and always looked up to my handsome big brother. Bryan was fun loving and had a way with the ladies. He and I both shared a deep love for drinking, dancing, and partying. I remember one time we both drank so much red wine after a day of water skiing on our parents boat that he decided to jump off the edge of the boat while it was going 60 miles per hour! On the way home we both passed out while riding in the back of Monster's pick up. He was a trip and I loved him, even though we were somewhat strangers instead of siblings. Once I started a family of my own, he was the fun loving Uncle my kids always enjoyed having around. He’s like a big kid who never grew up. Bryan has a big heart and was always Mother’s "favorite". He always tried to keep the peace instead of make peace. Peacekeepers and Peacemakers are not the same. Peacekeepers are cowards who's only interest is keeping the status quo. Smoothing over disagreements without solving or confronting anything. Peacemakers establish harmony between people...starting with the one causing all the disharmony. MONSTER. Bryan is a Peacekeeper. However, in our family of dysfunction I always saw him as the “normal” one. Although far from perfect, he IS a human being after all, I don’t think his kids really know how lucky they are to have a dad like my brother.
In my opinion my oldest sister Leandra suffered worse than any of us according to what she confessed to me, yet she was the most loyal to her abusers. She was the last and only one to help out her dying father in his final days and she remains the most loyal to Mother and Monster today. She used to have a heart of gold and would give her life for those she loved, but her heart has hardened and she's never been the same since. Like my brother, I never really knew and grew up with Leandra like my older sister Lisa and I did. We didn't become close until I started dating my husband. It was then that Lisa and I drifted apart and Leandra and I bonded. She adored Steve and looked up to him as a brother and Steve loved her as the sister he never had. She was the perfect Aunt that my kids loved very much and we made many wonderful memories together that I, and my kids, will forever cherish. Leandra was betrayed and abandoned in the worse way possible by the very family and people who were supposed to love and protect her. I won't get into the details, that's a story for her to tell not me. For me and my other siblings, our coping mechanism was drugs and alcohol. Leandra's was food. Somehow through years of physical and mental abuse she remained fun loving, happy, generous, and selfless instead of bitter hateful and hard. (until the last few years) She never put up a wall or became mistrusting but instead trusted too much. She would rather eat crumbs than nothing at all. Even if those crumbs are toxic. She remains alone to this day with no body other than her puppet masters, Mother and Monster, (Mother likes it that way) and I miss the sweet, fun loving, happy sister I once knew and loved.
Growing up, I always saw my mother as my best friend. She was beautiful, more so than any of the other moms, and I was very proud to call her MY mom. Everyone said she was gorgeous and I agreed. I could tell her everything and she didn't hold back either when it came to sharing moments of her past with me. I never really knew how unfaithful Monster was in their marriage until I moved out of the home. One Christmas morning I was spending with Charlie and his family, I got a call from Mother. She was in tears claiming Monster was seeing another woman. She received an angry phone call from the lover's husband who threatened to kill Monster if he didn't leave his wife alone. I was always protective of Mother. I felt it was my duty as her child to protect her from him. I was livid. This was just the beginning of numerous visits and calls from my hysterical Mother regarding Monster's infidelity. In fact it got so bad I had to tell her if she wasn't willing to leave the bastard she needed to stop complaining to me about him and accept the jerk that he is. A couple years went by without a peep until one day my oldest sister broke down in tears in front of me confessing that Monster was at it again and Mother had been bombarding HER now with the gory details. My sister was her spy and even resorted to taking pictures of Monster with his lover and sending them to Mother as proof. This is when I lost it. This is when all the past hurt and pain Monster caused all of us kids came flooding back. I told Mother I could get her a good private investigator and lawyer and she could finally break away free from Monster for good and live a happy life. She only got angry and defensive and would hear none of it. I lost all respect for my Mother that day. I wanted to hear nothing about her marriage anymore as long as she was tied to this toxic cancer who was responsible for destroying our family since the day they met in that piano store at the mall. Monster suffers from Malignant Narcissistic Personality Disorder and these kind of sick people destroy everything and everyone in their path. They will NEVER change. His own children want nothing to do with him, rightfully so. He completely abandoned them as children and left their mother for my mother. Maybe because his own wicked mother abandoned him as a child giving him up to his grandparents to raise while keeping his younger brother made him evil. I don't know and I don't care. All I know is he is a sick twisted individual who Mother ALLOWED to ruin not only her life but her children's lives. I was done with them both and all the drama.
Years later after having a family of my own, and realizing what a real family should look like, a dear friend loaned me This HIGHLY RECOMMENDED BOOKAfter reading it I did what the book suggested and wrote both Mother and Monster separate letters telling them all the good things and all the bad things that happened while growing up, and if they were both willing to admit to the truth we could work things out together and try to move ahead in a healthy loving way. Deep down I knew this would never work, and I was right. They denied many things and lashed out in anger, hostility and finger pointing. It caused my siblings to take sides and ultimately they took the side of millionaire Monster. Of course for the same reason, Mother chose her lying cheating perverted husband. And so it remains today. I used to be Mother's favorite daughter, now I'm her worst enemy. Occasionally she will send a pathetic email about how much she misses her grandkids and how sorry she is for "whatever" it was she did (she can't remember) and wants things back the way they used to be. I don't ever want to go back to the way things used to be. I told her the day she leaves her perverted cheating lying husband is the day we can talk. Her response was typical of a damaged bitter person living in denial. Hostility, finger pointing, and name calling. It hurts to not have siblings and a loving mom and dad, but I can no longer eat the crumbs of poison. I would rather starve.
YOU'VE ALWAYS HAD THE POWER
You don’t need AA to quit drinking, you don’t need a yoga class to do yoga, and you don’t need to lift weights and gorge on meat to build muscle and strength. You don’t need a support system to succeed. If you really want it bad enough, look within yourself, believe in yourself, and do it. It’s possible only through YOU. Sure it helps to have a circle of family and friends to lean on for comfort support and inspiration. But it’s possible to do it all on your own if you want it bad enough and I’m living proof of that. I quit drinking without the support of my birth family who are all addicts themselves, and no AA meetings got me through. I don’t take yoga classes and I don't follow a high protein low carb diet, yet I’m in the best shape of my life at 48 years old. We have nobody else to blame if we’re not happy with how things are. If you have people to thank for helping you get to a good place in your life then count yourself as lucky, but you wouldn’t be there without your own strength and determination. Nobody can make you happy more than you can. It takes grit courage and persistence for sure but the power has always been within yourself. You have the power and no one else. So don’t forget to thank yourself when you get there.
HONOR THY MOTHER AND FATHER
I think society's obsession with "honor thy mother and father" is just as harmful to humanity as the "forgive and forget" psycho-babble. I think it’s the cause for so much unnecessary guilt, self hate, mental and physical illness. It also gives a green light for abuse to flourish. People have no problem speaking out against abusive perverts but when it’s a parent, a mother especially, then it’s taboo. Even therapists fall for this harmful obsession. It wasn’t until I was given permission by a therapist to SAY that my parents were monsters, and I wanted NOTHING to do with them, that I began to heal. Christianity kept me stuck. I was rushed into the forgiveness mode. I was told I must honor and love my parents. So I said it until I thought I felt it but really I was faking it because deep down, once I accepted the truth and confronted my parents with it, I was livid. I was scared, hurt, angry, sad, and the last thing I wanted to feel was love and forgiveness. My writings were dark and hateful, all matching up with the Bible of course. The angry jealous possessive god of war who was going to come down and destroy all of my enemies. He would bring recompense and justice. So I stuffed down my hatred, anger and pain knowing in time wrath would come. If my other human emotions came up I was told it was of the Devil and not of god. No wonder so many christians are riddled with guilt and self hate! Since I’ve left the tribal bible cult, I have learned to take off the mask and acknowledge ALL of my emotions. Not just the "good ones", but sadness, anger, wonder, despair, fear, and hatred. I don’t think it’s wrong to hate certain people for the things they do. It’s called being human. It’s when we act on that hate and get enjoyment out of hurting others that it’s a problem. Studies have shown that people who deny themselves their true feelings, tend to act out in forms of rape, murder, or self harm. Could it be that they’re afraid of breaking the commandment Thy Shall Honor Thy Parent? Even those parents who sexually abused them? Beat them? Tried to kill them? Humiliated them? Instead of being able to express their anger or hatred towards their own mother/father they had to release it onto others. (society is obsessed with the idea of all moms being loving and tender. In all of the memoirs I've read most of the time it was the mother who was the molester/abuser) Ever see the Alfred Hitchcock movie Psycho? I don’t believe people are born evil like I used to in my christian cult days. I think our childhood from the second we’re born determines who we become. Some people have lived through hell as children and grow up to be empathetic loving people. Others become Narcopaths. I could be wrong but I believe those who don't allow themselves to feel ALL human emotions, are the ones who turn into psychopaths and serial killers. And I believe the cultural brainwashing tactic of honor thy mother and father is the main reason for their denial and fear of feeling. Children with loving parents will love their parents. They don’t need a commandment demanding them to. And no abusive monster deserves honor or love unless they stop abusing. Even if that abuser is a mother. It’s time we stop making victims feel guilty for exposing and shunning an abusive parent and do away with the bible standards of living and this antihuman bullshit psychobabble.
It’s been a few months since I’ve written this memoir and a lot has happened since. We finally moved!! To the country with enough land to have our horses, chickens and we even rescued an adorable sweet pair of mini donkeys named, Tom and Jerry! These little guys have taught me how much more forgiving and loving animals are than humans. They were abused and neglected yet took no time in learning to love and trust us when they had every reason to hate and reject all humans for life.
The funny thing is, this move to our incredibly beautiful 1800’s farm house on 10 amazingly stonewall lined acres, came at a time in my life when I gave up on god and became a non believer. I no longer prayed to or believed in god but believed in myself and my family and with a lot of determination and hard work between myself, my husband, and our kids, my life long dream has finally come true. I still can’t believe it’s become a reality and how lucky I am!!!!
I can no longer believe in let alone worship a god who allows so much injustice and unnecessary pain and suffering to be committed 24/7 but that’s my choice. We all have a right to believe in whatever we want; but the moment those beliefs effect or harm another, that’s when i have a problem and I will speak out against it. But for now I’m enjoying the fruits of our labors and extremely grateful and proud for the will and endurance it took on mine, and my family’s part, to make it happen.
Marriage can be extremely challenging and difficult.... but it’s worth it for me. To have an intact healthy family dynamic, no more loud fits of rage, walking on eggshells, or perversions running amuck like I grew up with, but instead a safe place that our kids can come home to when they need to recharge from this cruel relentless world is everything. I wouldn’t give that up for the world.
This website was a lifesaver for me over a decade ago when I cut all contact with my abusive mother and stepfather. Although, I’m no longer a Christian, I still agree with the entire concept of this woman’s wisdom logic and instruction regarding adult child abuse by narcissistic family members. Her book dispels the notion that Christians are demanded by God to forgive all, using biblical scripture. I hope it will help guide many others towards the knowledge, therefore the courage, to finally be free. Without guilt or shame. After all, it’s commanded by Jesus Christ Himself, to shun evildoers unless they repent and change their evil ways. Even family members.
