I experienced childhood as a torture in isolation, being a object to parents who would use me to take revenge on all that they hated most in their lives. Witnessing the most important ppl in my life destroying themselves, destroying their children and the relationships with a family who genuinely loved them but who s ability to move on in their lives activated in my parents a sense of jealousy and resentment. I grew up hearing endless conversations between my parents pointing out the worse in everyone and everything…. It was US a against the world. Not ever paying attention nor taking care of the damages that this self destructive narratives that finally became this mental illness, would causes to my brother and I and to themselves. Adults around me, smiling, happy in appearance in denial of small signs of abuse and neglect they sometime noticed on my body and on how terrified I looked, couldn’t really tell there was something…. Something to notice something to report and to save me from but then to move on….. Ignorance is a defense mechanism. Abused tortured isolated children when I was growing up, where everywhere not just in poor environments….. not just in children who displayed poor behaviors….. Ppl those days had two wars behind them the loss the wounds to put behind in the past and forget…. My individual suffering secretly meant nothing ……I was this perfect child. So well behaved every adult wanted children to behave like me. Only if they knew the terrors I endured that kept me quiet and so well behaved. Only small signs of child abuse would bleed through and even those were a threat. The one who ever experienced me didn’t want to suspect that as such young age I was already owning carrying this dark and painful secret. I couldnt tell. I couldn’t speak no one would believe me. I was told that if I spoke about the abuse I would be thrown into an orphanage and there the abuse would be worse and no one would love me…… The strange thing was that a part of me was determined to believe that only my parents could love me…. The rest of world like my dad trained me to believe was dangerous was even more abusive than them….Other adults who ever saw me, afraid to step in and get involved they couldn’t read that behind this sweet and beautiful smile I displayed, I was hiding a little girl who desperately had her hands out to be picked up and rescued out of this hell I was in, and ever so quietly so terrified cried “save me…..please”. Take me away from these scary parents. When I saw my cousins, my parents’s sisters and brothers how different than my parents gentle happy loving with their own kids I would quietly weep and crave for them to pick me up and include me in their lives full time. I saw in parallel to the life I had with my parents the rest of my family who were noting like my parents. On one hand this was a gift because I became aware of other alternatives …. I couldn’t believe my dad fully when he said the world and the ppl in that world are untrustworthy hypocrites and full of shit …. Seeing the rest of my family did not match his harsh perspective he tried so hard to teach in me. He warned m as his object he possessed on his side. Then there was the why me why did I have have to have these parents? Why could I not have my dad’s or my mom s sisters as my mom?
Most traumatized adults I met when I moved next door out of my childhood environment would robotically repeat themselves a mantra to cover up what they did not want to include in “the past is over it doesn’t exist anymore, let it go, be happy, be who you are and the past is not who are…… The past is who you are when there is unprocessed accumulated wounds and fear…..The past is in the past and the past is in the present when just left it behind, untouched, unhealed…. A past that is isolated and loaded with heavy trauma accumulated hurts and simply left there, is a past which repeatedly quietly shows its unhealed unreleased unloved face….. every tears every words every hurt, you were refused to express, to release during formative years, because you were told to suck it up, have an opportunity in the present for their release….. the present is a gift to embrace to own to kindly love unhealed stoke in time parts screaming or hiding to find…..
Yes how can one not follow through all they best know and when all they best know is destructive……
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