whatwedoinsilence

[whatwedoinsilence]

ra ra rasputin something something sour cream

[whatwedoinsilence]

Me as a teenager: I really relate to victims of child abuse. Weird, given my parents are amazing.

Me now: oh.

[whatwedoinsilence]

it's been a while since I've written, been a while since I've had the strength and time to write.

I've spend the last year at sea. Got a new job, packed my suitcases and left to what would be the most turbulent year of my life. it was hard, painful and traumatic at times, but every day I would remind myself that it was better than being at home.

the time is coming for me to go back to work soon, and after being at home for nearly two months all I can think of is how hard it'll be to go back and get used to the routine, the people, the places.

but there are little things that remind me why I chose that job. I'm so far from home, far from the screaming, the condescension, the mistakes I didn't even know I made but that are pointed out constantly.

this morning I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming I ate too many eggs. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have to plug in my headphones early in the morning, scared of coming out of my room, but listening close to what mistake I've made, what issue she's gonna find with something I did, how can I make sure tomorrow will be different, things will be clean and orderly enough that the literal first sound she makes in the morning won't be a word of depreciation for my existence.

maybe my next contract will be even harder than this one, but it sure as hell beats being home.

#childhood abuse #abusive parents #emotional abuse #abusive relationship #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma

[whatwedoinsilence]

When I was younger, I used to have really bad meltdowns. I would cry and scream and hit myself, throw myself to the floor and shake. I would beg my mother not to touch me, because the sensory overload was already too much. She would grab me by my arms and shake me harder, scream that "she was my mother and I belonged to her, she could do whatever she wanted with me", then she would beat me while yelling at me to stop crying.

Now, she's in the process of getting diagnosed with ADHD, and her doctors think I might have it, as well as autism. We were watching a news segment on a famous actresses' child who has a sensory disorder, and they brought up skin sensitivity, which reminded me of my meltdowns.

I brought up my childhood meltdowns, how I used to ask her to not touch me and she would grab me even harder. She said, "well, it's not like anyone even knew what autism was back then. you were always such a sensitive kid how would I know I was hurting you?", I don't know, because I told you?

The word I was looking for was "I'm sorry", although I should've known to stop hoping for it a long time ago. My mother would rather shoot herself point blank than ever apologise to me about anything.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic relationship

[whatwedoinsilence]

My mother got home at 2am yesterday.

Didn't call, didn't text, didn't let me know where she was. I was worried. I tossed and turned in bed until she got home.

Finally, this morning, as I woke up, about half an hour after her, I asked her "what happened last night? you're usually no out that late without letting me know". She said she was talking to my grandfather. I said, oh okay, and moved on.

Not even a full minute goes by, she's now in the kitchen, and I hear her scream "what the fuck happened last night? what the fuck happened in this kitchen? I leave for one night and you ruin everything."

Just like that. Out of nowhere. No warning, nothing. Just asked where she went, and she found a way to make me feel bad about it.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior

[whatwedoinsilence]

One of my earliest memories is being beaten. Laying in bed in a fetal position, protecting my face with my eyes shut as my brain tries to muffle out the sound of screaming, while my lips beg and plead for her to stop. Stop hitting me. I'm sorry. It hurts.

When she decides my punishment has been completed, she leaves me there, and I finally cry. Cry because I'm alone, cry because I can no longer be punished for crying. And I hug my little knees so tight and rock back and forth, whispering to myself "one day we will leave. one day we will be free." I was talking to myself, talking to my body, talking to my bruises, but talking as if I was a spectator and that wasn't really happening to me. Not me. Not me. Someone else.

Eventually I would get up, walk out, standing high. If she was still home, she wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't look at me. I must be the one to cave first, I must be the one to break, because I'm the one in the wrong.

I don't ask what my crimes are, I don't know them to this day. I approach her, very carefully, as she takes a long drag off her cigarette and ask her for something to eat, or maybe a glass of water.

And it's done. The anger that once was there is no more. We can go back to loving each other, until once again I disturb her peace, as I've done for all of 23 years now, and the cycle starts over.

I know what my issues are, I've always been a very introspective person. I crave love, I need it, I long for it, but I will choke on my own tears before I ask out loud. I just stand there and hope that one day I will ask for the right glass of water, the right food, and someone will finally love me.

But what if I can't be loved? What if I am the only person in the world who is unworthy of it? What if I'm the unlucky child who has to live forever without it?

I hear the things she says. To herself, in the morning when she knows I'm listening. To her friends, whenever I'm near. To our neighbours, when we're walking by. She says it with a smile on her face and laughter leaves her lips but I know she means it. I am difficult. I am snobbish, brute and hard-headed. I am loud, angry and freakish. I am lucky to have a mother like her, other mothers would've burned me with cigarettes or left me in a trash bin. I am a lot to handle, a lot to deal with.

When I get angry, I see myself as a spectator once again. I scream and I hear her voice, I shout and I hear her words. I feel her rage. And it frightens me so much I can barely breathe, but I cannot stop. It's a scary sight for sure, and one I wouldn't wish anyone to have to behold.

I am broken. I am not complete. But maybe someday I will be. Maybe someday far away from this madness the Prince that was promised to me, by every kind kindergarten teacher and Disney movie, will appear. Maybe it will be a Princess, even. And they will rescue me. They will rescue me, because I'm growing more unsure by the day that I can rescue myself.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic friends #toxic relationship #physical abuse #childhood abuse #child abuse survivor

[whatwedoinsilence]

omg, dear, I'm so happy for you ! that's the greatest step forward, I'm sure it's only bound to get better. I'm very proud of you ❤️❤️❤️

the narcissist trap

the narcissist trap is what I like to call situations that your narc parent, significant other or family member put you in solely so they can use said situations to humiliate you.

my mother has the habit of setting narcissist traps and using them in front of others.

for example, when she sent me to the grocery store to get snacks for me and my friend and some groceries only to demand 90% of the money back while calling me an idiot, say she never asked for any groceries and eat the pastry my friend picked for herself (even though i brought her a snack as well, the only one I knew she’d like, but she said she hates it and demanded the sweet pastry, only to take two bites and spit it out as she doesnt enjoy sweets, then throwing the pastry in the trash and eating the other snack), leaving my friend with nothing and forcing me to give her my pastry so she’d have something to eat.

set. catch. release.

another time, she gifted me a blouse for christmas that had a small slit on both sides. the first and only time I wore it was to the theatre with a friend, my mother accompanying us as she didn’t allow me to get out of the house unaccompanied. as I step out of the room, she turns to my friend and says “look how she’s basically naked. probably wants some attention because she knows she can’t compete with you without dressing like a slut.”

I’m curious now, does your abusive parent or significant other set traps? how do you deal with them?

[whatwedoinsilence]

When I leave, will you miss me, or miss screaming?

Will you miss me, or miss having someone to blame?

When I leave, will I have the guts to come back? Or will I be so different that home will finally become somewhere, someone, else?

Will you miss hugging me more than hurting me? Miss my smile or my tears?

When I leave, will you see reason, and beg me to come back? And will I? Will I abandon all my senses, all the time I've spent bettering myself, all the tears I cried and the nights I spent praying and begging God that you'd change?

Will I grow once more blind to the demons that live in your shadow and just jump into your open arms? Will I think you've truly changed, as I did so many times before? And will my heart skip a beat and ache once I realise that once again you have not changed anything but your lies?

When I leave, don't forget you're the one who shut that door, all I did was lock it.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic friends #toxic relationship #therapy #moving on #mental illness #abusive mother #abusive parents

[whatwedoinsilence]

In the middle of the night in September, my mother and I, and about 3/4 of our apartment complex, were awakened around 2am by the sounds of a new neighbour yelling incessantly and what seemed like someone being beaten. There was no other voice, but the sounds of things breaking and the loud, angry yelling were immediately startling enough for several neighbours to call the police.

I panicked. In hearing the screaming and the sounds of what seemed like someone getting beaten over and over again, I had flashbacks to my childhood. I hyperventilated, begged my mother to get off the window, as the man could be armed, before hiding in my room and crying.

The screaming went on for 3 hours. Nobody slept that night. I remember hearing my mother crying and praying by the window, muttering "she must already be dead. why is he still going? why hasn't he stopped?", while begging God to protect whatever poor woman was at the mercy of this man. I never saw her so distressed. My mother, who mocked rape survivors and was quick to discredit any woman who came forward reporting rape or domestic abuse, was now showing concern for an unknown woman.

We soon found out we got it all wrong. The man lived alone, and he was in fact yelling at and threatening a next door neighbour whose dog kept incessantly barking and wouldn't let him sleep. He was drunk. My mother's mood soon changed and she found the situation hilarious. Her tears dried and she went back into her room to try and get some sleep. The next morning, she retold the story to neighbours and family members, laughing at how distraught I had gotten.

This whole time, all I can think of: why did she never cry for me? Why did she never feel bad for me? Why did that unknown woman, whose voice we never heard and who never truly existed, awakened a stronger feeling of empathy and concern in her than her 3 year old daughter, her 5 year old daughter, her 11 year old daughter? Who throughout years and years cried and begged and pleaded for her mother to stop beating her, only to be faced with nothing but calm and "I told you so", "this is for your own good", "you need to learn manners"? While I covered my face wrecked with tears and snot, while I cried and begged at the top of my lungs, promising to change, promising to be better, where was the empathy for me? Where were the tears for me? Where was the concern for that little girl? Why didn't I deserve it?

What did I do so wrong that was worth the punishment, why was my pain never important enough to be concerned for?

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narc mom #surviving narcissism #childhood trauma #child abuse survivor #childhood abuse

[whatwedoinsilence]

Goncharov (1973) dir. Martin Scorsese

Clips from rare 1991 Spanish TV cut of Goncharov. Sourced from limited 2001 PAL DVD release.

[whatwedoinsilence]

reasons I have been beaten in the past:

- the ceiling fan broke

- I cried at a book

- I used all the shampoo

- my mother hurt herself doing the dishes

- I talked back

- I asked to many questions

- I didn't eat enough

- I ate too much

- I was crying

- I asked not to be touched

- I shut my bedroom door

- I yelled

- mother had a bad day

- grandmother had a bad day

- I asked someone to stop laughing at me

- I asked someone to stop yelling at me

- I said a swear word

- I didn't know how lucky I was to have a family that doesn't burn me with cigarettes

- I begged to not be beaten

- I didn't bring mother any snacks

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic friends #toxic relationship #physical abuse #child abuse survivor #childhood abuse #childhood trauma

[whatwedoinsilence]

Punishment comes in many ways with my mother. After years of beating me to a pulp, grabbing me by my hair, emotionally manipulating me, berating and humiliating me in private and public, she knows the mere sound of her voice is enough to scare me. Enough to make me go quiet and anxious, waiting for her next sentence, her next move, to find out if I'm in trouble or not.

So she just says whatever she wants out loud. Back in the day, before we had a dog, if I ever so much as attempted to defend myself from the names she calls me out loud, loud enough so I can hear behind closed doors and with headphones in, she would start yelling. Telling me I must be stupid because she wasn't talking to me she was talking to herself, she's allowed that. Now that we have a dog, the excuse has mutated. She talks to the dog. She's conversing with them. I shouldn't assume it was me she was talking to when she calls me stupid and clueless, tells me I don't know how to do anything well, that I can't be trusted with anything.

I bought some fruit today. It's getting warmer where we live and fruit can be a refreshing treat. I placed them in the fridge so they wouldn't go bad. Not even an hour goes by, she yanks the fridge door open and starts yelling at the dog: "Fruit doesn't go here. Fruit goes in the fridge drawer. Fruit has always gone in the fridge door. Is she stupid? Is she fucking dumb? How does she not know this?"

Mind you, I know how the fridge is organised. I put the fruit in what I thought was the right place, but if I even attempted to apologise (which I wouldn't, because its best not to bother her while she's in that mood), I would hear long tangents about how I'm eavesdropping and she "wasn't fucking talking to me".

Sometimes even the mere sound of her voice makes my heart freeze, whatever she's talking to herself about, every time she opens her mouth I wince and instinctively protect myself. I am highly sensitive to sound as well, have always been, not that it matters to my family, who will take any opportunity to shout. I absolutely despise the sound of her voice. I hate how scared it makes me.

So I just wait behind the closed door of my room, hoping this screaming match with no one will end soon and I won't need to be afraid to leave my room.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic friends #toxic relationship #therapy

[whatwedoinsilence]

me, listening to my abusive mother have a long, extensive conversation with a formerly close friend she cut off her life for "not caring about her anymore" about how said friend is now in therapy and learning to identify the narcissism in her mother while praising mine for being so good:

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior #toxic relationship #therapy

[whatwedoinsilence]

Just watched my mother and aunt threaten to beat my 5 year old cousin because she rolled her eyes at them.

Nothing ever changes in this house.

#toxic #toxic family #toxic mother #child abuse #toxic friends #trauma #verbal abuse #narcissistic behavior

[whatwedoinsilence]

The more I share on here, the more I realise that some people just don't deserve to be parents. Some people shouldn't be allowed to be parents. I can't describe the pain I feel for you right now, and I hope with all my heart that you can one day find yourself happy and far away from this woman you're forced to call mother.

I definitely understand what it feels like to grow up in a family where wanting things, whether they be material or not, makes you spoiled or a bad person. When I was younger, I would get smacked and called spoiled by simply stating that I liked something or found it pretty, not even asking for it or anything.

Know that you are not alone, and we'll get through this together ❤

the narcissist trap

the narcissist trap is what I like to call situations that your narc parent, significant other or family member put you in solely so they can use said situations to humiliate you.

my mother has the habit of setting narcissist traps and using them in front of others.

for example, when she sent me to the grocery store to get snacks for me and my friend and some groceries only to demand 90% of the money back while calling me an idiot, say she never asked for any groceries and eat the pastry my friend picked for herself (even though i brought her a snack as well, the only one I knew she'd like, but she said she hates it and demanded the sweet pastry, only to take two bites and spit it out as she doesnt enjoy sweets, then throwing the pastry in the trash and eating the other snack), leaving my friend with nothing and forcing me to give her my pastry so she'd have something to eat.

set. catch. release.

another time, she gifted me a blouse for christmas that had a small slit on both sides. the first and only time I wore it was to the theatre with a friend, my mother accompanying us as she didn't allow me to get out of the house unaccompanied. as I step out of the room, she turns to my friend and says "look how she's basically naked. probably wants some attention because she knows she can't compete with you without dressing like a slut."

I'm curious now, does your abusive parent or significant other set traps? how do you deal with them?

[whatwedoinsilence]

I’m reading the book “I’m glad my mom died” by Jennette McCurdy, and it describes in detail the type of narcissistic abuse that features enmeshment with the child. The child is not allowed to have a separate identity from the parent, nor want anything the parent doesn’t want. They constantly have to put on a performance and pretend to be whatever is asked of them, or the parent will throw a tantrum and gaslight the child into so much guilt and pain it will be unbearable. The abuse is so bad, the parent purposefully ignores the child’s ocd, encourages anorexia and the child has no choice whatsoever but to allow the parent to live vicariously thru them, and disregard any sense of desire, personality and needs of their own. The kid is not even allowed to have their own favourite color, or ice cream flavour.

I got to a point where it’s explained the narcissistic parent is a hoarder, and I remembered my narcissistic abuser is also a hoarder, and had a room filled with old filthy stuff with no use or care. A friend of mine confirmed their narcissistic parent hoards too, and now I wonder if it’s a pattern? If you have a narcissistic parent who is also a hoarder, please comment/reply and let me know.

I’ll probably write more thoughts on the book, as it’s a great re-telling of a narcissistic child abuse. If you’ve experienced the type of abuse that demanded you to hand over your personality and be nothing but an extension of your abusive parent, this might be relatable, as much as it’s triggering. It also features childhood sexual abuse, so be careful if it’s something you don’t want to read about.

[whatwedoinsilence]

Your counselor at the time is a fool. Your so-called mother actually doesn’t love you because she’s not really capable of loving you. As for your so-called friend, well, I would dump her if I were you because by telling you to forgive your abusers and let them hurt you, she’s actually not your real friend. You don’t have to forgive anybody who has always hurt you. You deserved better and I hope you know that there are people out there who truly care about you, even when so many of us who care about you are only online.

I want to begin by thanking you for this, you have no idea what it means to me. I've spent so much time having my experiences invalidated that finding out there's a community of people who believe and care for me has been surreal.

I also want to add that I never understood why my counselor advised me to tell my mother, but I went to a highly religious school and that might have something to do with it. As for my "friend", we thankfully haven't been in touch since high school.

It's been a journey trying to leave my house, but I know one day I will be free and will have my own life, with people who love and truly care for me. I still get scared that my mother will do something to stop me, she raised me to be dependent on her in every aspect and she never expected me to leave, I'm not even allowed to go on trips without her. But I know in my heart all will be well someday.

Thank you again, I'm so thankful to have people like you here ❤