Abuse Survivor - Blog Posts

Friendships are such an interesting component of humanity. They truly serve us in a valuable way in terms of finding connection, interaction, community, and belonging. It’s fascinating and colorful to also see how different people think and value friendship and companionship. I had a rough conversation with my mother about some problems that I have been having about my own friendships at the moment. She brought up the fact that she doesn’t rely on friendships that much because she had a strong relationship to her family that she knew would never waver. She saw reoccurring patterns in the people that she attempted to be friends with, was continuously hurt by people that were a risk to trust, so she realized that friendship wasn’t that important to her.

There is always a risk when you meet someone, or are trying to make friends, or start a new relationship. Deciding what, when, how, and why you want to share with people is always risky, and exposing and opening yourself to people is always a hard thing to do. But why is it so easy for me? I actually find a lot of comfort and release when I open up to people and share who I am with people. I feel like I am getting closer to knowing my authentic self when I let go of expectations and hesitations about who people think I am when I just honestly tell people about myself. However, as a sophomore in college, I have learned to fear that side of myself. I have learned the patterns of hurt and betrayal that surround me with friendships, and even the problems that I am experiencing right now with my friends follow the same trend. I value and think of friendships to be a deeper connection than what most people think for themselves. My family never served to treat me in a loving, caring, affectionate, stable way, and didn’t teach and show me how relationships work and function. Through the abuse and trauma that they inflicted on me, I don’t have a safe space that my mother had when she was growing up. She had a bright, caring family to come back to, I have a dark chasm of self hatred and longing. A chasm that is reserved and meant to be filled by the love, affirmation, and belonging by my family.

So I look to friendships instead to fill that chasm. I pour my all into trying to build a support system through friendships that grow. Being seen, recognized, accepted, and loved put the pieces back together that have always been broken inside me. But the pieces only held together by aging glue. Until they fall apart again because those seemingly supportive friendships weren’t as supportive as I was led to believe. I have a twisted view on friendships, believing that the way that I see and value my friends are, by default, the same way that my friends see and value me, but that is a lie that I keep telling myself. I don’t mean the same thing to them, the same way they mean to me. Why is that so hard for me to understand and live with? Maybe it’s because they will never be the family that I should have received growing up. Maybe it’s because I have too much baggage to be supported by the unstable connections between us that I am desperately relying on. Maybe I am looking in all the wrong places for something that will never be found because the time for that has long passed. Or maybe the problem is just me?

My friends do not owe me anything. My friends are not obligated to constantly support me and fill/fix the everlasting holes within me. Do I address my issues with them? Even when I know that they probably will be offended by what I have to say? I am putting them in an impossibly difficult place. But is it so wrong of me to not to want to be alone? Is it wrong of me to want to feel like I am not broken or damaged, and want to feel like I have people I can come back to no matter what? But maybe that opportunity is not meant for me anymore. Maybe this is all I am meant to get from relationships at this point. I should be more grateful for what I have, for my friends, and for everything that they have done for me, but I can’t help but want for more. But alas, friendships aren’t meant to be used for self-gratification, for me to feel liked, loved, accepted. For me to feel like me, just once, in my fucked up life. please… But maybe this is a sign that instead of trying so hard to get something that is impossible to get, I should learn to live and adapt to what people’s emotional capacities are. I should be willing to sacrifice my wants, needs and desires, and be real with the rest of the world. Because in reality, the time has passed for the world to be able to meet my wants, needs, and desires. Now the world will never be enough.

maybe life is all about waking up every day and trying to learn how to appreciate the beauty of the world without allowing the ugliness of everything that has happened to me in the past to interfere with it

That is SO true. ☝🏻 My family does this all the time, and I hate it. 😞

Don’t ever let anyone get you down (too much or for too long,) and don’t let it define your worth. ❤️‍🔥 YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Don’t listen to the lies.

This is a mood so bad, it hurts.

“And you tried to change, didn’t you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake… You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.” —Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love

They sure don’t.

(—I’ll do a happy version of this later, since it’s two sides of one coin. ;) )

via weheartit

So do I, Sweetheart. <3 😈 🔄

sometimes you have to look over the wall to remind yourself that - it's not okay

looking over the wall of a place you're feeling safe in can give you an insight into what's fucked about this world

take that lesson - have courage to be different

say: "NO" even if you're the only one who says it, be the example

it honestly motivates me as bad as it is, it really does... every horrible thing I see tells me that I should be different and that I should protect others who were in the same position I was in, especially if everyone else seems to be ignorant about it

it took me a while to realise that some life lessons are really freaking painful and it's normal to cry, to feel pain and fear but also listen to what that pain is telling you "this is not okay" "this is wrong" "it shouldn't be this way"

most of the time - your body is right

be different, do better

Survivor experience that mega sucks: watching your sibling turn into your abusive parent

To Anyone Who’s Still Carrying It

You don’t get over it in a straight line. You just don’t. And anyone who tells you different hasn’t been through it or hasn’t faced it yet.

Harassment doesn’t always leave bruises you can point to. It gets under the skin in quieter ways. It makes you second-guess what you heard, how you felt, what you wore, what you said. It can turn a job into a minefield and your own instincts into something you stop trusting.

And it doesn’t end the day you leave the job, or file the report, or speak the truth out loud. Sometimes it lingers. In your body. In your sleep. In how you walk into new rooms.

But here’s what I know: healing doesn’t have to look heroic. It’s not always confrontation or closure. Sometimes it’s just getting through the day without that weight taking over. Sometimes it’s finding one person who listens. Sometimes it’s deciding to stay. Or leave. Or try again.

Whatever it looks like --- that’s valid. You’re allowed to move forward without explaining why it hurt or proving that it did.

It was real. You’re not imagining it. And you are absolutely not alone.

mentions of sexual assault and grooming

nah because what is up with being confident in your memory that you were sexually assaulted (and you still are being sexually harassed and groomed btw) but the perpetrator shows basic human courtesy once and now you’re the delusional lying fuck.

generalized amnesia and emotional amnesia goes hard because oh yeah that extremely terrible thing happened and i don’t feel anything i felt while i was experiencing and oh this other thi- NERVOUS SYSTEM SHOWS UP

When I walk into the room he’s already puffed-up wide-eyed scared

Looking like he’s seen god at the bottom of a bottle

I ask him what’s wrong and he shakes

Shakes his head

There’s something that neither of us want to say.

It’s on the horizon

Ground-shaking, dead-waking, alarms wailing as it pushes closer

He’s stuck in its path and in that body-freeze

Ready to be struck

I’m laughing in time with the rumble and staring down from behind the wheel

Wondering if the bottle or the god will save him first

I walk into the room.

TW! DRUGS, ALCOHOL, OVER DOSING,REHAB, EATING DISORDER, RAPE, MENTAL HEALTH, SELF HARM, SUICIDE

Now we skip a year to the beginning of the year. Year 9. 2022.

On October 24th 2021, i was walking to a friends house. To get there you had to walk down a dark, forest like path. I wasn't wearing anything too revealing. Nothing more then slight cleavage. This guy, must've been in his mid 20s, came up behind me. Grabbed me from behind, and raped me. My innocence was stripped away, only because i was wearing a top.

This event lead me into a horrible spiral of depression. I was 13.

I started drinking, everyday, for 2 months. In school, at home, out side. I felt like i needed to get away from this pain. I was made to be mature, the child i once was had gone. I was caught, i was excluded, i was put into treatment for recovering alcoholics.

I stopped eating for months. I needed control. And somehow eating was the only thing i could. No one noticed, i'd always been quite fat, so it was seen as me loosing weight. Everyone was proud of me. No one could see the true intentions. I was dying, slowly killing myself to end my suffering.

One day, whilst i was at a party, drinking, someone gave me a massive load of cocaine and heroin . And there forth i was an addict. In school, at home, outside, in dirty public bathrooms, i was always doing drugs. I stole weed, lighters, filters and rolling papers from people. I stole bongs and grinders from shops. I needed it. It made me forget. It made me happy. I was 14. I was shooting up heroin every week, snorting cocaine every day. My friends encouraged this, told me it was my life and i could do what i wanted. I needed the help. They only really got concerned when i almost over dosed on heroin in the park near my house. I was sent to the hospital, where i am now. They are sending me to rehab on the 21st. They said it was what i needed.

I started self harming again, almost slitting my wrists everyday to end it. If i couldn't be happy, what was the point in being here.

I was diagnosed with autism and am currently waiting to be diagnosed with bpd , which all my therapists said i most likely do have, it gave me some clarity, although i will never tell anyone any of this, only you.

This is my story, of what has happened, before you judge someone, think about what they have been through.

Fare well - Radio

How to Survive Fourth of July With Hypervigilance:

Independence Day can be rough for Americans living with hypervigilance related issues. The loud noises can make your heart race and your head spin. It may even feel hard to breathe. You’re gonna have to be strong. Fortunately, there are some things you can do to help.

Put in your earbuds. Listening to music will not only drown out the sound, it may also help you calm down. Music has been shown to help reduce anxiety and stress levels by up to 65 percent.

Use noise reduction headphones. If you want, you may even be able to see the fireworks! Just make sure you slip on a pair of noise reduction headphones. They can reduce the noise by more than 70 percent!

Spend the day with someone you love. Just being around someone we love can help steady our heart rates and calm our breathing. While it may still be rough, spending the time with a loved one is likely to make it a little less torturous.

Take a shower. It’s gonna be a long shower, but the noise of the water will drown out the fireworks.

Cuddle with a furry friend. Pets can be hugely therapeutic to people struggling with any sort of mental health issue, and even more so for those struggling with anxiety and ptsd. (Note: this may not work if your pet is just as panicked about fireworks as you are.)

But most importantly, especially for anyone struggling with any past trauma, remind yourself that you are safe. Do something that requires you to interact with your environment to help yourself stay in the here and now. It can be hard to stay in the present when faced with certain triggers, especially if you are alone.

You are strong and you will make it through this. Everything will be okay. I promise.

A couple of other things from my experience:

Unless you know for a fact that they are comfortable with it, always ask before touching them in any way. I’ve had a couple friends trigger panic attacks that way.

If you’re in a relationship try to have some sort of code for when it is and isn’t okay to be super intimate. My ex and I had a color code for what level of intimacy I was comfortable with and he would always ask what color I was.

I often flinch and put my hands up at any sudden hand movement. Don’t get offended if someone does that. It’s just an instinctive response.

Don’t slam doors, stomp around, or make unnecessary excessive noise when possible. It can often cause anxiety attacks.

Never, and I mean NEVER, refer to someone’s anxiety/panic attacks or PTSD episodes as a “tantrum” or “fit” EVER

If I say, “can you not do that? It reminds me of my abuser.” It isn’t me comparing you to them. It’s simply me trying to let you know that whatever you’re doing/saying triggers traumatic memories.

You are not alone and it is NEVER your fault if you are a victim of abuse.

THINGS TO BE AWARE OF WHEN IT COMES TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ABUSED: 💬

we all experience it differently, but these are the most common ones to me.

Since I grew up in a abusive household,

• I could tell the mood to the person who abused me by their steps, and I remember not being able to breathe when the person was mad because the footsteps were fast and heavy. I still get scared when people walk like that.

• I get scared when a person comes home without saying anything to me because it was what the person who used to abuse me did when they were angry at me.

• I still tip toe around the house at night on my way to the bathroom, scared that the smallest sound I make will get me in trouble.

• I jump at the slightest movement because I’m afraid it’s aimed at me after all the years of being threatened and hit.

• I never refuse to help with anything even if I can’t, because I remember what happened when I refused or didn’t answer right away.

• I am very observant because it’s how I got away from being abused for days, I see one thing outta place at home and I know that day will not be a great one. Is everything at place? a day without abuse.

• If a person gets a bit angry, starts rising their voice or looks at me with a sharp look, I feel like running away and never coming back because it’s how the person who abused me would intimidate me.

please, take these things into consideration and be aware of them, it would mean a lot to me and others who also went through the same things. don’t make fun of anyone who acts like this, you have no idea what they have gone through.

if you have other things to add, please do. it’s important to be aware of the things that might trigger people who have been or are still being physically abused. and if you know someone who’s being abused, please help them. it could do so much good for them.

and if anyone ever needs to speak with anyone, just know that you can message me and I’ll do my best to help as much as possible. I’m also here if you need a friend as well :)

The Recloseted Lesbian. Ungrateful

Here's a thought: if a child begs to be allowed to see a counselor and the parent's response is to prevent them from accessing mental health care because you're afraid CPS will be involved? That's a red fucking flag.

If a kid carries around a window crank and a screwdriver in their bag, tells you it's secret from their parents, "just in case," because their windows have been screwed shut and the cranks removed? That's a red flag!

If a kid tells an adult they trust, "my parent is an asshole and I'm afraid of them," that's a red mother fucking flag.

If a kid wears shorts to school with bruises covering their legs and makes teary eye contact with their teacher through the entire class period? Red. Flag.

If a straight-A student fails an exam, looks like they haven't slept in two days, is holding their arm awkwardly to the side as if it is hurt, and stands in their guidance counselor's office, shaking and crying, convinced that that failed exam is the end of the world? guess what color the flag is. RED.

If a kid passes out after a hot day of outdoor activities and when their parent arrives to take them home they scream at the kid for making them look bad- the flag is red!

All of the fucking flags were red. Fuck.

This was my 4th Christmas without my mother. Every year, I am struck by how much of a fucking relief it is. I was told by so many people that I would regret my decision, that I would miss her, that "she's your mom and you only get one."

I don't miss her. My life has been objectively better without her.

I miss believing I had a mom who loved me, but that started a long time before I cut her out.

I don't miss the panic I felt seeing her name on my caller id. I don't miss her manipulation. I don't miss her parentifying me. I don't miss the burden of caring for her in her old age looming over my head like a fucking guillotine. I don't miss her guilt or her lies or her abuse.

I don't miss her. I don't miss her. I don't miss her. I feel free.

I can't believe I'm 31 and still putting pieces together.

Shortly after reporting my stepfather to the police for rape, his father, the man I had called grandpa for a fucking decade, started coming to the burger joint I worked at. I couldn't get a restraining order because he didn't do anything but order a burger and sit at a table directly across from the register and stare at me. He'd leave when he finished his food.

When I told people, their reaction was always "why would he do that? That's so weird." But knowing what I know now, knowing he'd been paying my mother thousands of dollars over the years to keep both of us quiet, knowing he had effectively been paying my mother to let his son use me-

It was just intimidation. Money wasn't keeping me quiet so he wanted to scare me into silence. Wanted me to know he had more power, more resources, more time.

And they did win the court case. And he did scare the shit out of me. So much so that I nearly quit my job.

I was just faulty merchandise to him. God.

Just thinking about how, as an under-medicated, severely mentally ill 18 year old, living 800 miles from the only home I knew with no support system other than the fundamentalist cult I was wrapped up in-

I was supposed to sit in a court room and point a finger at the man who hurt me for over a decade, and know how to explain what he did to me, and remember events I was completely dissociated during, and understand that I wasn't lying, I just didn't have access to all of the parts of me that experienced all of the things that happened.

With an undiagnosed dissociative disorder, I was supposed to explain to a jury why my three witnesses knew different details of different events and why I'd only reported one instance.

As a minor, I was supposed to understand that if I told my mandated reporter therapist about one specific situation, I'd be expected to then disclose every instance of abuse, or pretend that it all only happened once.

As a child, I was expected to behave in a way that "makes sense" to the middle aged, rural, conservative jury of my abuser's peers.

Fuck. That.