Hi everyone,
I apologize in advance that my first post is a rather lengthy one that is a call for help rather than a polite introduction. I've lurked for a little while, but am a quiet person who doesn't really say something unless they really need to.
Firstly, it's nice to actually meet you all and hopefully give each other support on our journeys. You can call me Misul. For obvious reasons, I don't feel comfortable using my real name. I'm 32 years old and unemployed due to a myriad of health issues.
Let me begin with my story. My PTSD stems from childhood abuse and the abuse I still face this day. My parents divorced when I was 1 or 2 years old and I lived with my mother until I was 12. My earliest memories are of her sleeping around with many men and not really hiding it from myself and my elder sister. She was (and still is) and alcoholic and was almost always blacked out from drinking too much. She'd leave us children with friends or strangers to go out with friends and meet men. When I was 5 years old, she remarried. The step-father was also an alcoholic and thus ensued the rest of my childhood with daily beatings, neglect, manipulation, police visits to the home, fighting, screaming, etc. I don't need to go into the details and I don't really wish to relive them. Looking back, I'm not sure how I lived through that time. I have scars and broken bones that never fully healed to remind me whenever the weather changes. I was even frequently attacked for no reason at all, told it was my fault for being a bad kid, was sent away to "give mom a break from me", etc. However, I was the most quiet and well behaved child you could ever imagine. I was painfully shy, got straight As in school and did not even have the guts to misbehave.
I saw my bio-dad (I question whether he is or not, but that's another story) every alternate weekend. I was terrified of him as well because firstly, he was like a stranger to me as I saw him twice a month, and secondly, he has an explosive temper. He is extremely self absorbed but thinks he is a altruistic saint. He never beat me like my mom did, but he didn't have to because his temper was like a knife. Something happened which has further prevented me from having any sort of familial relationship with him; he bathed me until I was about eight years old. As frequently happens with abused children, I used to wet the bed. I remember the bad feeling I had when my dad would give me a bath in the mornings; why didn't he tell me to do it himself? I can't stand to think about his hands on me to this day and I hate him for it. As an adult, I cannot imagine bathing a child who was that old and putting my hands in those places, never even thinking that they should be doing it themselves. Why didn't he have my sister do it at least? I think my sister told my mom about it because she told me to do it myself from then on.
Anyway, when I was 12, we actually became homeless. So my dad stepped in and I went to live with him. Instead of outward physical violence every day, I dealt with his narcissism and neglect. Our house was always filthy, he was always screaming at me, didn't do anything to help my bedwetting situation and let me go to school in dirty clothes. I was also dealing with my mother's manipulation, accusing me of abandoning her. She gave me the wedding ring that her husband bought her, as if I wanted anything from either her or that man who had hurt me so many times... It was around the time of 8th grade when I started leaving school frequently due to severe illness. It took years to diagnose, but it was the first signs of auto-immune disease. I have mixed connective tissue disease, which in my case is a combination of lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, and sjogrens. This is why I am not employed right now.
I have a really strong spirit and an amazing ability to cope so I survived all those years. I never became addicted to anything or adopted a bad lifestyle; I just waited patiently for the day when I would escape. I busied myself with studying my cultures and other cultures of the world. I am very in tune with my Asian and Native American cultures and I really believe that along with my musical gift has saved me. At least I could read old stories and live traditionally and then I felt comfortable and at home in my heart. I dissociate a lot as well. It's been a life saver.
Now I can get to the point: Because I had to stop working, at 32 years of age, I am back living with my father. I have been here for eight months and am really starting to lose it. I am stronger than I used to be and can stand up to him more than before, but you cannot change a person; you can only choose your reaction. He is worse then he was when I was a child. I really feel he believes that since I'm an adult, it's okay to act badly around me. Not that he didn't before, I don't think he is aware of how terrible a person he is. He lets his dogs pee everywhere on the floor. Even on the weekends when he is home, he is too lazy to let them out. He makes excuses and blames everyone but himself. The house is constantly filthy. I will not clean up his messes. I clean up after myself and have made my room an oasis in this house. Whenever he helps me out, he always throws a fit over it and makes me not want to ask him anymore. I have gone hungry because I don't even want to hear him complain when he gives me a little money for groceries. It took me months to convince him to take his cat to the vet because a tooth was so rotten, it had formed an enormous abscess in his gum. It was the first thing I noticed when I saw the cat (not to mention the infection you could smell in his breath) but my dad would say things like "It's always been like that, he's fine," etc. The cat's eyes were clouded over, and you could tell he probably didn't care if he lived or died. Sure enough, a few weeks ago the vet said he must have been in unimaginable agony. I'm sharing the story about the cat because it's a perfect example of my dad's personality and how he treats others. Yet somehow he thinks he is some nice guy. He treats everyone badly, talks down to strangers and thinks he's the center of the universe. He is incredibly racist as well. He works in the inner city and constantly puts those people down. I told him one day just to imagine what life is like for them, imagine being a child growing up there. I know it's pointless, but sometimes I can't help but say something.
I need to get out of this situation. It's wearing me down. I don't have any family since I am estranged from everyone. (My sister turned out like my mother). The friends I have don't understand what I"m going through as they have large happy families and they aren't in a position to help me anyways. I am basically alone as far as support goes. I haven't seen my therapist in months because I cannot afford it. I may have to have surgery for cancer in a few months and I don't want to be in this house to recover. I don't want my dad at the hospital. If you want me to be honest, and this is hard for me to admit, I wish that he would just die in his sleep or something. Same goes for my mother and her husband. They say that abuse survivors feel at peace when their abusers die and I believe that. I know I will finally be free.
I need so much medical care and haven't had a checkup for my disease in a long time. I don't know why my dad can't help me with this; why he ignores everyone's problems and thinks only of himself. It makes me feel so trapped and upset. I can't live with this person any longer. I want to get away. It's breaking me down slowly. I am 32 years old and and still facing these same problems. I haven't had a chance to live my life.
I have reached out to all the community services in my area. Because of the economy, every charity and organization is full and can't accept new people. I've tried every couple of months to check again and again, and they all say the same thing: call this place or that place, but they are all full. I'm trying to get food stamps now and just filled out the forms for Medicaid. If I can't get Medicaid by next year, I'm hoping that I can get medical help under Obamacare, but that doesn't help me with my living situation. I've been so strong for too many years. It's taking its toll on me.
Does anyone have any suggestions that might help me get away from my situation? The only things I'm able to do now are meditation and such. I'm a very spiritual person and do those things already. But I need a real change in situation. We can pray all we want, but nothing happens unless we make at least a ripple in the water.
Thank you for reading my story. I think it's good to tell others what is happening with me so I feel less trapped.
Misul
I apologize in advance that my first post is a rather lengthy one that is a call for help rather than a polite introduction. I've lurked for a little while, but am a quiet person who doesn't really say something unless they really need to.
Firstly, it's nice to actually meet you all and hopefully give each other support on our journeys. You can call me Misul. For obvious reasons, I don't feel comfortable using my real name. I'm 32 years old and unemployed due to a myriad of health issues.
Let me begin with my story. My PTSD stems from childhood abuse and the abuse I still face this day. My parents divorced when I was 1 or 2 years old and I lived with my mother until I was 12. My earliest memories are of her sleeping around with many men and not really hiding it from myself and my elder sister. She was (and still is) and alcoholic and was almost always blacked out from drinking too much. She'd leave us children with friends or strangers to go out with friends and meet men. When I was 5 years old, she remarried. The step-father was also an alcoholic and thus ensued the rest of my childhood with daily beatings, neglect, manipulation, police visits to the home, fighting, screaming, etc. I don't need to go into the details and I don't really wish to relive them. Looking back, I'm not sure how I lived through that time. I have scars and broken bones that never fully healed to remind me whenever the weather changes. I was even frequently attacked for no reason at all, told it was my fault for being a bad kid, was sent away to "give mom a break from me", etc. However, I was the most quiet and well behaved child you could ever imagine. I was painfully shy, got straight As in school and did not even have the guts to misbehave.
I saw my bio-dad (I question whether he is or not, but that's another story) every alternate weekend. I was terrified of him as well because firstly, he was like a stranger to me as I saw him twice a month, and secondly, he has an explosive temper. He is extremely self absorbed but thinks he is a altruistic saint. He never beat me like my mom did, but he didn't have to because his temper was like a knife. Something happened which has further prevented me from having any sort of familial relationship with him; he bathed me until I was about eight years old. As frequently happens with abused children, I used to wet the bed. I remember the bad feeling I had when my dad would give me a bath in the mornings; why didn't he tell me to do it himself? I can't stand to think about his hands on me to this day and I hate him for it. As an adult, I cannot imagine bathing a child who was that old and putting my hands in those places, never even thinking that they should be doing it themselves. Why didn't he have my sister do it at least? I think my sister told my mom about it because she told me to do it myself from then on.
Anyway, when I was 12, we actually became homeless. So my dad stepped in and I went to live with him. Instead of outward physical violence every day, I dealt with his narcissism and neglect. Our house was always filthy, he was always screaming at me, didn't do anything to help my bedwetting situation and let me go to school in dirty clothes. I was also dealing with my mother's manipulation, accusing me of abandoning her. She gave me the wedding ring that her husband bought her, as if I wanted anything from either her or that man who had hurt me so many times... It was around the time of 8th grade when I started leaving school frequently due to severe illness. It took years to diagnose, but it was the first signs of auto-immune disease. I have mixed connective tissue disease, which in my case is a combination of lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, and sjogrens. This is why I am not employed right now.
I have a really strong spirit and an amazing ability to cope so I survived all those years. I never became addicted to anything or adopted a bad lifestyle; I just waited patiently for the day when I would escape. I busied myself with studying my cultures and other cultures of the world. I am very in tune with my Asian and Native American cultures and I really believe that along with my musical gift has saved me. At least I could read old stories and live traditionally and then I felt comfortable and at home in my heart. I dissociate a lot as well. It's been a life saver.
Now I can get to the point: Because I had to stop working, at 32 years of age, I am back living with my father. I have been here for eight months and am really starting to lose it. I am stronger than I used to be and can stand up to him more than before, but you cannot change a person; you can only choose your reaction. He is worse then he was when I was a child. I really feel he believes that since I'm an adult, it's okay to act badly around me. Not that he didn't before, I don't think he is aware of how terrible a person he is. He lets his dogs pee everywhere on the floor. Even on the weekends when he is home, he is too lazy to let them out. He makes excuses and blames everyone but himself. The house is constantly filthy. I will not clean up his messes. I clean up after myself and have made my room an oasis in this house. Whenever he helps me out, he always throws a fit over it and makes me not want to ask him anymore. I have gone hungry because I don't even want to hear him complain when he gives me a little money for groceries. It took me months to convince him to take his cat to the vet because a tooth was so rotten, it had formed an enormous abscess in his gum. It was the first thing I noticed when I saw the cat (not to mention the infection you could smell in his breath) but my dad would say things like "It's always been like that, he's fine," etc. The cat's eyes were clouded over, and you could tell he probably didn't care if he lived or died. Sure enough, a few weeks ago the vet said he must have been in unimaginable agony. I'm sharing the story about the cat because it's a perfect example of my dad's personality and how he treats others. Yet somehow he thinks he is some nice guy. He treats everyone badly, talks down to strangers and thinks he's the center of the universe. He is incredibly racist as well. He works in the inner city and constantly puts those people down. I told him one day just to imagine what life is like for them, imagine being a child growing up there. I know it's pointless, but sometimes I can't help but say something.
I need to get out of this situation. It's wearing me down. I don't have any family since I am estranged from everyone. (My sister turned out like my mother). The friends I have don't understand what I"m going through as they have large happy families and they aren't in a position to help me anyways. I am basically alone as far as support goes. I haven't seen my therapist in months because I cannot afford it. I may have to have surgery for cancer in a few months and I don't want to be in this house to recover. I don't want my dad at the hospital. If you want me to be honest, and this is hard for me to admit, I wish that he would just die in his sleep or something. Same goes for my mother and her husband. They say that abuse survivors feel at peace when their abusers die and I believe that. I know I will finally be free.
I need so much medical care and haven't had a checkup for my disease in a long time. I don't know why my dad can't help me with this; why he ignores everyone's problems and thinks only of himself. It makes me feel so trapped and upset. I can't live with this person any longer. I want to get away. It's breaking me down slowly. I am 32 years old and and still facing these same problems. I haven't had a chance to live my life.
I have reached out to all the community services in my area. Because of the economy, every charity and organization is full and can't accept new people. I've tried every couple of months to check again and again, and they all say the same thing: call this place or that place, but they are all full. I'm trying to get food stamps now and just filled out the forms for Medicaid. If I can't get Medicaid by next year, I'm hoping that I can get medical help under Obamacare, but that doesn't help me with my living situation. I've been so strong for too many years. It's taking its toll on me.
Does anyone have any suggestions that might help me get away from my situation? The only things I'm able to do now are meditation and such. I'm a very spiritual person and do those things already. But I need a real change in situation. We can pray all we want, but nothing happens unless we make at least a ripple in the water.
Thank you for reading my story. I think it's good to tell others what is happening with me so I feel less trapped.
Misul
