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Rose White
VIP Member
Thank you @beaneeboo
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Childhood If your parent neglected or abused you, please just say me too
- Post starter Rose White
- Start date
spinningmytires
Gold Member
I think I had given up on making any loving supportive connections with my parents and brother, early in my life. I had no choice but to accept their abusive behavior. And yes, in my case, most definitely, they've formed tightly bonded group packs against me.
- Post starter
- #39
Rose White
VIP Member
@spinningmytires I gave up on that too, in a very unconscious way. But now I’m faced with the fact that having done that precludes me from making loving supportive connections with a partner. I have made a workaround with my children, and I do the best I can with friends. Haven’t figured out how to make that happen with a partner. I suspect it’s not going to be possible but foolishly I will probably keep trying. Feeling naively hopeful today—still have hormones on my side for now.
beaneeboo
Diamond Member
It's not foolish @Rose White ... you deserve and have the right to hope for that with a partner... alot depends on the partner of course.. but in terms of yourself, you have the right to want better things in your life, in your relationships and you deserve the right to have that belief somewhere in you that it just may be possible for you despite that feeling... that's your right no matter what your padt, and no one gets to take that from you... especially not the people who hurt you...
spinningmytires
Gold Member
I think my giving up behavior over the years -- where I've stopped trying to defend myself -- has only placed me farther outside the family group. The more I gave into their abuse, the more I accepted it, the more freely they had turned on me. While I was trying to establish a loving connection my tolerance was only making my abuse worse.
I've never connected with a partner -- my last attempt was 20 years ago. And though we remained friends on social media because he lived a distance away, he died earlier this year. No children and now cut-off from my remaining abusive family -- I am better off without them.
- Post starter
- #42
Rose White
VIP Member
@spinningmytires from what you’ve said, I agree that you are better off without them. I’m sorry you tried so hard to make it work and only had them treat you that way.
@beaneeboo thank you, very kind of you
. That “d word” so hard to grapple with. I can hear A’s voice in my head, “What function does it serve you to not deserve that?”
@beaneeboo thank you, very kind of you
. That “d word” so hard to grapple with. I can hear A’s voice in my head, “What function does it serve you to not deserve that?”phoenixfox211
New Here
Me too.
Abused, SAed, so many more
Muttly
Diamond Member
Full confession, I haven't read the full thread. My bandwidth is a bit limited. I can definitely say me too though.
It's weird, Last night I got together with this older couple who seem to have adopted me. I still don't understand why they think I'm so great, but it's so nice. And they seem happy for me and proud of me. And this morning I've been hit with a sadness. I've had it before with them. It's like it makes me realize what I never had?
It's weird, Last night I got together with this older couple who seem to have adopted me. I still don't understand why they think I'm so great, but it's so nice. And they seem happy for me and proud of me. And this morning I've been hit with a sadness. I've had it before with them. It's like it makes me realize what I never had?
spinningmytires
Gold Member
My childhood abuse was mostly emotional neglect where my feelings were either ignored or scolded for being incorrect. My mother once said, if I had more clearly understood the situation I wouldn’t be angry or upset.
I was never beaten as I was basically a very obedient child. Yet once when I hadn’t been brushing my teeth enough, my mother along with the help of my brother, held me down against my will, as my mother then forced a toothbrush into my month. I was being treating like an animal. There must have been a better way. She could have asked me why I wasn’t brushing my teeth. I think that because of my young age and reading disability, I was mistakenly brushing my teeth with my father’s hair cream which, was in a similar tube. I thought never again after that experience.
Rarely would either of my parents talk to me though my mother would sometimes harshly criticize my appearance and social skills, My father showed no interest in me at all, except when he was fondling his genitals while standing directly in front of me.
As far as I know, my father never touched me in any sexual way. He didn’t desire closeness with me, nor with his wife nor the family dog, He preferred being alone. I think this might help explain his no contact sexual abuse towards me.
When about age 12, I was invited to a birthday party of a girl I hardly knew. When I told my mother I wasn’t going, she said I would still need to deliver the birthday gift. So mother drove me to the girl’s house. When the girl’s mother answered the door, I told her that I wouldn’t be staying but that I’d brought a gift. Suddenly from behind. my mother forcefully pushed me into their house I think the girl’s mother was just as shocked as I was. I saw it in her face.
When I was about age 13 and invited to a slumber party. My mother bought me a two piece teddy to wear to the sleep-over. I only became embarrassingly aware of how shear its fabric was where first putting it on at the party. I felt so extremely embarrassed. This Teddie wasn’t my idea. I should have changed back into my street clothes and politely excused myself. I just wasn’t assertive enough and I didn’t have a jacket to wear over it.
Attending social events always frightened me during my childhood. I never knew what to say. After a social event, my mother would often ask me to tell her exactly what I had said. And when I’d tell her, she’d often response saying, something like, that’s horrible …oh please, tell me you didn’t really say that.
My mother sometimes seemed very psychologically cruel. She would place me in embarrassing situations at the very worsen possible time. Many times she would tell me that I was embarrassing her.
She told me that she loved me but that she’d love me more if I lost weight. Much of her abuse was centered around my body image. When I was about age 14, she once puffed out her cheeks while extending her arms out to her sides as if to mock my obesity while also awkwardly stumping her feet as she waddled across the kitchen floor -- screaming "This is how you look!!" I will never forget that moment. I had never before realized how much hatred she felt towards my physical body.
When I was about age 16 and very physically fit and not overweight, my mother complained that my body wiggled too much when I walked. I was fit!! So she then made me wear tight constricting underwear that cut-off my leg circulation, causing my knees ans legs to swell.
During my childhood, when my mother would take me shopping for school clothes, finding a dress that would fit was stressful. After trying on several dresses that were all too small, she would say, sometime like, hopefully this next dress will fit because they don’t make dresses any larger. What was I to do — withdraw from elementary school because I had nothing to wear. My mother didn’t sew and the dresses she had purchased for me were already uncomfortably tight.
I suspect, my mother saw me as only an extension of her own lifelong struggle with obesity. She was very over-weight as a child. She had scratched out her own image in old family photographs. She told me she had once done this herself using a pin. She also cut-out the size labels from her clothes.
Sometime shortly after my younger sister was born, my mother was consuming mineral oil along with her meals in order to restrict her calorie absorption — she nearly killed herself!! Her liver function was failing and the doctors couldn’t understand why. Only after her hospital admission without this daily mineral oil consumption had her health begun to improve.
Perhaps my mother thought a more beautiful body was what she needed to attract her husband’s love and affection. But then, I suspect, her husband, my father, was schizoid and stuck living within his own fantasy world. He showed absolutely no desire for physical closeness with anyone — and beauty had nothing to do with it.
Tough he obviously enjoyed looking at beautiful women, viewing his girlie magazines and attending strip shows, he had no desire for intimacy. Perhaps my mother was unconsciously suffering while consciously thinking that she just wasn’t beautiful enough.
I suspect my father was schizoid and that he thought everything was perfectly fine just the way it was. Yet he wasn’t a husband to her nor a father to me.
I was never beaten as I was basically a very obedient child. Yet once when I hadn’t been brushing my teeth enough, my mother along with the help of my brother, held me down against my will, as my mother then forced a toothbrush into my month. I was being treating like an animal. There must have been a better way. She could have asked me why I wasn’t brushing my teeth. I think that because of my young age and reading disability, I was mistakenly brushing my teeth with my father’s hair cream which, was in a similar tube. I thought never again after that experience.
Rarely would either of my parents talk to me though my mother would sometimes harshly criticize my appearance and social skills, My father showed no interest in me at all, except when he was fondling his genitals while standing directly in front of me.
As far as I know, my father never touched me in any sexual way. He didn’t desire closeness with me, nor with his wife nor the family dog, He preferred being alone. I think this might help explain his no contact sexual abuse towards me.
When about age 12, I was invited to a birthday party of a girl I hardly knew. When I told my mother I wasn’t going, she said I would still need to deliver the birthday gift. So mother drove me to the girl’s house. When the girl’s mother answered the door, I told her that I wouldn’t be staying but that I’d brought a gift. Suddenly from behind. my mother forcefully pushed me into their house I think the girl’s mother was just as shocked as I was. I saw it in her face.
When I was about age 13 and invited to a slumber party. My mother bought me a two piece teddy to wear to the sleep-over. I only became embarrassingly aware of how shear its fabric was where first putting it on at the party. I felt so extremely embarrassed. This Teddie wasn’t my idea. I should have changed back into my street clothes and politely excused myself. I just wasn’t assertive enough and I didn’t have a jacket to wear over it.
Attending social events always frightened me during my childhood. I never knew what to say. After a social event, my mother would often ask me to tell her exactly what I had said. And when I’d tell her, she’d often response saying, something like, that’s horrible …oh please, tell me you didn’t really say that.
My mother sometimes seemed very psychologically cruel. She would place me in embarrassing situations at the very worsen possible time. Many times she would tell me that I was embarrassing her.
She told me that she loved me but that she’d love me more if I lost weight. Much of her abuse was centered around my body image. When I was about age 14, she once puffed out her cheeks while extending her arms out to her sides as if to mock my obesity while also awkwardly stumping her feet as she waddled across the kitchen floor -- screaming "This is how you look!!" I will never forget that moment. I had never before realized how much hatred she felt towards my physical body.
When I was about age 16 and very physically fit and not overweight, my mother complained that my body wiggled too much when I walked. I was fit!! So she then made me wear tight constricting underwear that cut-off my leg circulation, causing my knees ans legs to swell.
During my childhood, when my mother would take me shopping for school clothes, finding a dress that would fit was stressful. After trying on several dresses that were all too small, she would say, sometime like, hopefully this next dress will fit because they don’t make dresses any larger. What was I to do — withdraw from elementary school because I had nothing to wear. My mother didn’t sew and the dresses she had purchased for me were already uncomfortably tight.
I suspect, my mother saw me as only an extension of her own lifelong struggle with obesity. She was very over-weight as a child. She had scratched out her own image in old family photographs. She told me she had once done this herself using a pin. She also cut-out the size labels from her clothes.
Sometime shortly after my younger sister was born, my mother was consuming mineral oil along with her meals in order to restrict her calorie absorption — she nearly killed herself!! Her liver function was failing and the doctors couldn’t understand why. Only after her hospital admission without this daily mineral oil consumption had her health begun to improve.
Perhaps my mother thought a more beautiful body was what she needed to attract her husband’s love and affection. But then, I suspect, her husband, my father, was schizoid and stuck living within his own fantasy world. He showed absolutely no desire for physical closeness with anyone — and beauty had nothing to do with it.
Tough he obviously enjoyed looking at beautiful women, viewing his girlie magazines and attending strip shows, he had no desire for intimacy. Perhaps my mother was unconsciously suffering while consciously thinking that she just wasn’t beautiful enough.
I suspect my father was schizoid and that he thought everything was perfectly fine just the way it was. Yet he wasn’t a husband to her nor a father to me.
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Childhood If your parent neglected or abused you, please just say me too
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