My weird, constant, CPTSD nightmares

Hi friends. Today's post is about the weird, disturbing CPTSD nightmares I have on a nightly basis. And when I say weird, I ain't just whistling Dixie. I  have so many dreams that I have dream memories. There not recurrent in that they change and piggyback off each other. I've had dreams involving all areas of the town I live in. I have more dream memories than actual memories, at least of childhood. Sometimes I can't separate dream from reality. More than once I've had regular dreams about something I thought had actually happened. But when I looked back, it only happened it my dream. 

 They are nightmares in that they are upsetting, scary, disturbing. I'm always in unfamiliar situations, burdened with loads of work I can never get done and caring for many children I don't know. There are endless expectations from others who do not help. I'm doing it all but I have no idea what exactly I'm supposed to do, how to do it, where to get the supplies to do it why I have to. There are always dirty bathrooms I have to clean. Toilets that turn out to be chairs, urine and feces everywhere. 

I'm always late, or I've missed something. I don't get schoolwork done. I am in a play and I don't know my lines. I've let people down. Children go missing and get injured or worse. Children are always in danger and I don't know how to protect them. My dream plunks me down in situations and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, who I'm responsible for. And people are always upset with or angry at me. They are accusing and questioning.

It loops endlessly. I'm never relaxed, off duty or enjoying myself. I'm waiting on others with no help. I'm scared, worried, exhausted and stressed. My home is broken down and filthy, with gaping holes and bugs and vermin. There are familiar elements but mostly odd or different. In short, my dreams are never good. 

 In last night's dream, I was with my oldest daughter Molly who was both and adult and a teen (her age went back and forth). I was in an unfamiliar church bathroom and found, on the bottom shelf of a changing table or toy shelf, a baby. She was abandoned. There were people around but no one claimed her. I called to my daughter who was outside. She was an adult but then a teen of 12. I asked her to ask some people if they had any formula to feed the baby. My phone wouldn't work so I could call someone. 

Now I also have many dreams in which I am still breastfeeding. I dream that I nurse my grandkids but secretly so my kids won't find out. I know this sounds super creepy. But I don't think it's really about my grandkids but the two stillborn babies I lost. I'm forever trying to reach them so I  can care them. It's quite heartbreaking, really. 

Anyway, while looking for formula, I said to my husband who was suddenly randomly in my dream, that today was the first day my milk had dried up. We were sad. When I woke, I had to bring myself up to present and recall that this happened decades ago. 

But then the dream jumped back to my daughter (a teen now in dream) and I (she is pregnant in real life, which might have had something to do with the dream). We couldn't find any formula. In my dream I was feeling bad about giving formula because I always nursed and somehow I felt I should with this baby, as if she were my own. The baby was okay but I knew she had to be getting hungry. 

Then the dream cut to my daughter now holding the baby, who still hasn't eaten ( I dream a lot that my babies are hungry because I haven't nursed them). Near us was a woman I recognize as "Jan" an older teen who was in a  singing group I was in (in real life). We younger kids were in hero-worship awe of her and her agemates and were kind of led to be. They were set up as examples of  holiness that we should follow. 

Jan (an adult but weirdly, younger than me, now) is lining people up with their babies to be in a pageant of some kind. She pulls Molly over, telling her what to do, where to stand, etc. She is being a little too nice and chummy and trying to elbow me away. I said, "no, this isn't our baby. We found her here. We don't know her and can't find her parents. I'm trying to do that. Have you seen them and do you know this baby?"

Jan ignores my question and screams at me to leave my daughter alone and butt out. It's none of my business. My daughter is looking confused like she should do this to keep the woman happy. I try to take the baby and the woman shoves me out of the way and tells me to stop being such a control freak. Everyone seems to just accept this as okay.  I say "Look, this child has been abandoned or lost by her parents! She has not eaten!" The woman says "she doesn't look hungry. She'll be fine!" I say "okay but if anything goes wrong and Molly needs help, I'm coming to get them, pageant or not" Woman says "no you're not!" 

In the dream I felt ashamed of myself and in the way. I was starting to believe that I actually was keeping Molly from something. Even though I knew we needed to help this child and so did my daughter, I felt like I was letting someone down by not going along with it. And I was still terribly worried. I felt torn between doing what's right and what was expected. I started by knowing what I should do but letting someone else gaslight me into ignoring that. The dream ends with me saying "you clearly know nothing about abandoned kids. I DO!" 

This is the first time I've dreamed this dream but it's very much pattern to my other dreams. I experience a lot of questioning. And what do I conclude from it? Well, I should have stood my ground and gotten my daughter and the baby out of there. The fact that I kowtowed against my better judgement (and often do in my dreams) tells me that I've often let bullies push me around. Especially people who were wrongly set in authority over me or as examples of "good Christians." It tells me that maybe I have even perpetuated unhealthy tolerance of bullies in my kids. 

Healing CPTSD and toxic shame by sourcing the disconnect

 Hello my friends. This blog has become about my recovery CPTSD caused by parental abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, exploitation, manipulation, toxic shaming, scapegoating, parentification and gaslighting about it all by four very narcissistic parents. Today I'm looking at healing from CPTSD by sourcing the disconnect. And I'm doing that by paying close attention to uncomfortable feelings,  clues that I'm spiraling or may be about to.  

And this might be one of the trickiest things I've ever done. Why? Because I don't know how because I was taught to ignore bad feelings and red flags. My boundaries were so smashed by steamroller adults that they no longer existed. In fact, I don't think I really ever developed boundaries. I never knew where others  stopped and I began. Because "I" didn't really exist. I was a human doing and giving, source of constant narcissistic supply for the adults in my life.  

Marilisa was not a human being with needs, wants, goals, opinions and feelings of her own. She existed to be a supply, servant, surrogate spouse and/or parent, scapegoat and support (prop) for others. Needs were ignored and dismissed. Feelings were mocked and sometimes exploited. To have needs and wants was selfish. To have opinions or ideas outside parental ones were unspeakable acts of insurrection, instead of  just normal kid stuff. 

I was literally indoctrinated that self-care was disobedient to God, especially if it went contrary to whatever they wanted me to do at the time. For example: most of my  life I did not have a bedroom or bed. I was put in their kids' and babies' rooms of whichever parent I was living with. What was my room was  given to random people such as my uncle and his girlfriend, once. The parents were way across the house or several floors away. As far from the baby/children as possible. I still don't sleep more than a few hours at a time because I've been getting up at night with kids since I was 10. 

The one time I objected to that (well, not really objected but just not as delighted as my dad thought I should be), I was beaten in front of everyone. Another time, my mom's boyfriend exploded on me because the baby I was caring for, woke him up. He says I shook the baby Now I see he was lying to protect himself. I didn't then. And it so traumatized me that I thought I never should have children.

I also see now that that is not only abuse and neglect but endangerment, exploitation, parentification and gaslighting. But then those were just more ways I'd let people down. Those are just a few examples. And they've all congealed into a septic sewage dump of toxic shame in my brain. But for all the ick, they are silent until something stirs them  up. 

Then I start feeling fearful and anxious. I start looking over my shoulder, expecting some form of punishment. I start over-reacting. But since it's not down to anything that actually happened, but rather old memories, I can't see where it began. In fact, I don't even identify that I'm feeling this way because I always feel and have felt this way, just to lesser or greater degrees. I only realize it when I'm in full-blown dysregulation or panic attack. And I'm too fucking old to keep experiencing this. I'm sick of it. 

So I'm starting to pay much closer attention when the nagging anxiety. I'm starting to notice the ripples in the pond before a major hurricane occurs. I still can't sort out where they come from. Likely that swamp of toxic shame is deeper and dirtier than I thought. But I go with whatever I've  got to work with. 

Today, I sourced it to fear over not giving my kids a coupon I'd earned before it expired. Which I know is crazy. So it must be something deeper. I also had one of my famous bizarre nightmares last night. I found an abandoned baby in a church bathroom. My oldest daughter and I were looking formula to feed the baby. Then a woman put my daughter and the baby in a "beautiful baby" contest. I said no. We haven't even fed her or found her parents. But the woman snapped at me to stay out of it, mind my business and let my daughter be. She said the baby would be fine. I backed down but said that if my daughter needed me, I was crashing the contest and coming to help her. The dream ended when I said "you obviously know nothing about at-risk babies. She  hasn't even been fed!"

I'll blog on that more. I think this panic attack came from a constant sense of failure. That I'd somehow let my family down by failing to share the coupon. It hasn't even expired yet! But these are the things I dream about, missing deadlines, losing children, letting them get hurt, failing to do things, not picking kids up on  time, dropping the ball. Things I now recall happened to me on a regular basis. 

Healing from abuse and CPTSD by trusting myself

 Hi friends. I've been working on healing from parental abuse, neglect, abandonment, exploitation, shaming, scapegoating, endangerment and gaslighting from four narcissistic parents. Today, I'm looking at one huge thing I need to start doing and that is trusting myself. 

I've been bossed around, falsely accused, used as a punching bag, told off, pooh-poohed, blamed and shamed, criticized, lied to, gaslit and just made miserable by these people all my life. It extended into and got worse in adulthood. Their kids were now joining in. 

You might ask, why did I let them? You may as well ask the sun why she shines. It's all I knew. They'd been shaming and gaslighting me so long the poisonous arrows were embedded in my brain.   Once you learn something, even if it's wrong (maybe especially if it's wrong), it's virtually impossible to unlearn. No it is impossible. 

They don't even have to say or do anything anymore. I'm trained. I do the gaslighting, shaming, blaming to myself. Even when they die, their voices live on in my mind. So I have a nasty case of CPTSD as a result. I barrage myself continuously with self-doubt, self-recriminations, second-guessing. My self-esteem is shot to hell. Actually, I never had any. I just believed as I was told that I'm the problem. 

So actually, this title is misleading. I say I'm healing from abuse and CPTSD but I'm not. You never heal. You just hopefully find ways to cope. I say I'm learning to trust myself. Nah. The best I can hope for is to just start noticing the constant attacks and deflect them. Because I'm not just stuck in this, I'm buried under it. 

I'm sorry to offer hope and then pull it back. But I have to be real about how badly I really do feel about myself. No one likes to hear it, I get that. They want to be positive, to "cheer me up" But if it denies or minimizes what I'm really feeling, it's false and toxic positivity. Well meant, but still not helpful. And maybe, not even well meant. In a way, it's a perpetuation of the gaslighting. 

I have come to despise phrases like "let go and let God", ""you got this, girl" and especially "rise above" and "just get over it." They are so glib. They minimize what for me is a personal hell. And they just make me feel more ashamed because I effing can't let go, get over, rise above. I don't got this.   You might as well tell me to leap a tall building in a single bound. 

And for crying out loud, don't you think that if I could just get over it, I'd have done so ages ago? I hate this shit with all my being. No one wants me to get better more than me. I want to box it all up and incinerate it. I want do-overs. I want a childhood that wasn't filled with suffering. I want teen years without all the added shame. Those times are hard enough without people torturing you. I'd like to have been celebrated or loved, for a change.  

And it's abundantly clear that anyone who would say these things don't got an effing clue. They aren't experiencing it. If they were, they would not be so blase. It's like telling someone whose loved one has just died, that "he's in a better place." She doesn't want him in a better place. And who are you to pontificate like that? Just shut your mouth and love her, foo. 

So, what can I do? Well, for starters, I can be honest. I can keep saying what I need to if others don't like it, tough shit. I'll probably do that through this blog, though. Being scolded for feeling bad just makes it worse. So I'll consider the source. I can also recognize that nobody really gets it because they didn't live it. When they say unhelpful or hurtful things it just proves that. 

I think the most important thing to do is to poke holes in every crazy, negative thing that comes into my head. Every time I hear their voices mocking or shaming, I can talk it down. I can interrupt. I can contradict, argue with and reject the lies they tell about me. I can call it out and name it. I can listen to the good things people tell me. I can begin telling myself good things. 

10 ugly baffling behaviors of histrionic and narcissistic parents

 Hi friends. I'm working on healing from narcissistic parental abuse from four pathologically histrionic, antisocial and narcissistic (the category B personality disorders) parents. Here are 10 baffling behaviors that histrionic and narcissistic parents display. 

1) They take up all the oxygen in the room. Everything is about them. They require a lot of attention, in fact all the attention. They make every event about themselves. If they feel an event is focusing too much on someone else, they will do something to put themselves in the spotlight. And it's often something outrageous, disturbing or hurtful to someone, particularly the one getting the attention. 

2) They do weird things for shock value. Attention is good. Shocked, comfortable attention that makes their victim feel self-conscious or insecure, is better. The type of behavior differs depending on the type of narcissism or histrionic pattern (malignant, covert, overt). My narcissistic/histrionic mother threw a pie in my face at her work picnic. 

3) They don't see or hear themselves as others do. Their narcissistic/ histrionic delusions are so off that they don't realize that how odd they seem My dad believed that he was a preacher and a missionary despite having zero training or background. He would get mad when whatever church he happened to be in at the time, didn't allow him to preach. My narcissistic mother wore nightgowns in public. 

4) Narcissistic behavior changes as they age. People who begin as grandiose narcs tend to become more covert or malignant as they age. My mother was big grandiose when she was young and "hot". (I put that in quotes because that's how she saw herself. I feel uncomfortable with the word). As she got older, she decided that if she couldn't be the hottest anymore, she'd be the most pathetic (covert) Any attention is better than none at all. As I matured, she felt outshone and her behavior toward me became malignant. 

5) Narcs are waaaaayy off sexually. Both my parents used to run around buck naked in front of me. My dad took me on dates with his 17-year-old girlfriend when he was 34. My mom wore sexualized clothing, dressed as a hooker for a church Halloween party and a bikini in front of my friends. This was not acceptable back then. She talked to me about sex all the time, starting when I was 7. She spared no gory detail. She and her boyfriends were loud during intimacy. She tells people she  sleeps naked and paraded around my home nude, in front of my kids. 

6) Malignant narcissistic parents purposely expose their children to icky situations. My mom began having affairs when I was 6. She left me alone in unfamiliar places for days at a time. At least one affair was with a married man. They would make out in front of me. His wife came to our house one day and knocked her down the stairs. She blatantly lived with her boyfriend in our quite conservative community. She left me to care for her foster kids, night and day. 

7) Narcissistic parents are hypocrites. Both my parents put me in dangerous situations. They didn't monitor me. I was wandering alone at age 4 or 5. My mom had a foster care home which closed due to abuse. They lived immorally and very contrary to the Bible. Yet both believed themselves to be model Christians. They preached continually to others on how to live. 

8) Narcissistic and histrionic parents aren't safe. You cross them at your peril. Even if they just think you are questioning them, watch out. My  mom let her (chronically unemployed, abusive) boyfriend sexually harass, mock, hurt, attack and shame me. Later, he kicked me out of the house when I was 16 because I came home an hour late. The two times I confronted my mom on something, she went ballistic. Then she triangulated her husband against me. My dad went nuts and beat me once because he thought I wasn't happy enough about losing my bedroom and being made to sleep in a tiny room with their baby.

9) Narc parents gaslight with every breath. They like attention except when they are being held accountable for bad behavior. Then they pull out every dirty trick to make themselves the victims. They lie, mock, shame, humiliate, distort and throw sand in your eyes. Mine scapegoated me to deflect attention away from their abandonment, exploitation, manipulation, abuse, neglect, parentification, shaming and endangerment. They invent things you supposedly did and then crucify you for them. 

10) Narc parents get you to hate yourself. All the shocking acts. All the bizarre talk. All the out-of-the-blue accusations. All the exaggerated punishment. All the of the betrayal, backstabbing and passive-aggressive cruelty. All that sewage rots in your brain till pretty soon you don't feel fit to live. At least I did. 

This is only a sample of the baffling behaviors. If you're living with it, know you're not alone. I see you. You're not the problem. What you can do about it? I'm not the one to ask because I did nothing and just suffered with it all these years. Looking back, I'd at least tell a safe adult preferably one who can help. Don't keep it inside. You're doing no one any favors least of all yourself. Make noise but with safe people. Abusive parents aren't those people. Then get out of Dodge as soon as you realistically can. That's the only thing that saved me. 

Love, mar

7 reasons why I have to catalog every bad thing that happened in childhood

 Hi friends. If you follow this blog, you know I've been working on healing the childhood trauma I experienced throughout my life with my "family." I'm deconstructing the abuse (physical, emotional, mental, social, sexual, religious, financial and medical), neglect, abandonment, endangerment, exploitation, parentification, family scapegoating, mocking, toxic shaming and gaslighting about it all. 

And you may wonder why I always list each type of abuse that  happened, separately. Or maybe you don't. But the shrieking harpies in my head do. My brain is full of flying monkeys telling me that I'm showing off and making it up. That's one result of narcissistic abuse. My brain gaslights itself with questioning, undermining, insulting and name-calling. And that's one reason why I have to catalog every bad thing that happened. It's one of seven reasons. I'll get back to it so I can do them in order. 

First, I need to fill you in on my very bizarre (for the time, I was born in 1964) family structure and dynamic. My parents were both very self-absorbed. They left me unattended from around age 4, for long periods of time. Neither one held consistent jobs and I  have no memory of a bedroom, bed or toys. But they  had money for expensive breed dogs, riding lessons, English saddles, etc. We moved around a lot and actually squatted at various times. When I was 5, they moved to Alaska to be missionaries (unsanctioned by any church). My dad left immediately to in his words "preach." He wasn't a preacher either, except in his mind. 

My mom did her own thing and I wandered downtown Haines Alaska on my own. We lived with different people. Neither parent worked yet never had time for me. I walked to school alone. I was cared for by a native Tlingit couple in their 80s. Then she moved to an  island up the inland passage. I had no idea where my dad was. She told me they were getting divorced which in 1970. She left me for a week with strangers. Then moved us back to Michigan. 

My dad came back a year or so later. He got remarried almost immediately after a failed relationship with a 17-year-old (he was 34). I was bounced between homes. His wife did not want to include me in their new family until she realized how useful I could be around the house and with her kids. She and my dad bullied me into being their au pair, nanny, housekeeper and personal maid. My mother had affairs with various married men. Then opened a foster care home, met a guy whom she moved into our house. They didn't work and left me to care for the kids. Then they lost the foster care home, moved around a lot, got married. Her new husband was very abusive to me and she let him be so. He would later kick me out of the house when I was 16. Neither my mom nor my dad ever took my part against their very abusive spouses and would egg them on to further exploitation. 

It's the abbreviated version but it gives you an idea of just how bizarre and foreign my life was compared to the kids around me. And it helps explain how the complex was the abuse, coming from four different "parents" each with his or her own spin. Among them all, my life became a messy mix of abuse (physical, mental, emotional, religious, sexual, social, financial, medical), neglect, abandonment, exploitation, cruelty, bullying, exploitation, parentification, shaming, scapegoating and gaslighting about it all. So on to the reasons

Reason 1 why I have to list each type of abuse: to begin to accept that it happened. I don't know who needs to hear this but if you have been the victim of narcissistic parental abuse, you have also been gaslit into thinking you're the problem. You are not. They are. It's them. They have catechized you on the Narcissist's prayer. (credit to Dayna Craig). 

That didn't happen.

And if it did, it wasn't that bad.

And if it was, that's not a big deal.

And if it is, that's not my fault.

And if it was, I didn't mean it.

And if I did, you deserved it.

Reason 2 why I have to list each type of abuse. To begin to put it in perspective. All my life, I accepted whatever they dished out: the slapping, harassment, beating, name-calling, sexualizing, betrayal, mockery, ignoring. I worked like a dog to please them, doing pretty much all their work. Sleeping with their kids and getting up at night with babies from around age 11. I never realized how bizarre and abusive it was. Now that I have words for it, I'm using them to sort out what happened. 

Reason 3 to list each separately: to sort out how they did it and how it was wrong. I always defended every weird, hurtful or traumatizing thing my four parents did. I never questioned. Worst of all, (here's the part of the parentification) I parented them while they exploited me. I was expected to be surrogate parent and spouse, while also being obedient, subservient and scapegoat. They wanted the perks of being parents with none of the work. I had to be both parent and child. Cataloging how they did this helps me begin to frame how it was wrong. 

Reason 4 to list each abuse separately: to begin to see how each type of abuse affected me. Every thing I've listed are forms of abuse. But each affects me differently. Being hit makes me chronically flinch. Being emotionally abused makes me hate myself. Being neglected makes me feel worthless...a few examples. 

Reason 5. to quit gaslighting myself. For so many years, they each made me feel like the problem. I was disobedient, angry, selfish, lazy, too sensitive, too critical, on and on. All that has culminate in my gaslighting myself. They don't even have to incant the Narcissist's prayer  anymore. I do it for them. I still don't honestly believe that I'm not the problem. But hopefully I'll start to. 

Reason 6 to unpick the Narc prayer, line by line:

That didn't happen. YES IT DID. YOU DID THOSE THINGS TO ME

And if it did, it wasn't that bad. YES THEY WERE. THEY WERE WORSE THAN BAD. THEY WERE AWFUL. THEY FELT AWFUL. 

And if it was, that's not a big deal. IT IS A HUGE DEAL!!!! YOUR ABUSE HAS CRIPPLED ME.

And if it is, that's not my fault. IT IS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT. YOU ARE THE PARENT. YOU HURT ME, ALLOWED AND ENCOURAGED OTHERS TO HURT ME. 

And if it was, I didn't mean it. YES YOU DID. THESE THINGS WERE NOT ACCIDENTS. YOU HAD TO GO OUT OF YOUR WAY TO WREAK SUCH HAVOC. IT IS UNNATURAL, IMMORAL AND DEVASTATING. 

And if I did, you deserved it. AHAHA. NOW WE COME TO IT. THIS WAS YOURGAME ALL ALONG. TO MAKE ME THE SCAPEGOAT FOR EVERYTHING. TO BLAME ME FOR IT ALL. TO SHAME ME FOR IT ALL. I DESERVED NONE OF IT. I DESERVED LOVE NOT ABUSE, CARE NOT NEGLECT! RESPECT NOT SHAME! SUPPORT NOT EXPLOITATION! NURTURE NOT ABANDONMENT! I DESERVED TO BE PART OF THE FAMILY NOT APART. INCLUDED NOT EXCLUDED. I DESERVED TO BE A CHILD, NOT AN OVERWORKED, UNPAID EMPLOYEE. I DESERVED TRUTH NOT GASLIGHTING AND LIES. 

Reason 7. to find a way out of this effed up, screwed over, cluster-eff of misery and suffering that all this has caused. I don't want to write these posts anymore. I want joy, not a fake pasted on smile to keep others happy or at least not mad. I want to live my life not theirs. I wan to stop hating myself for things I was framed for doing but never did. I want to feel some satisfaction that I occasionally do something right. I want to restore the wounded kid in me to full health. 

Physical symptoms of CPTSD: health issues from childhood trauma. abuse and neglect

 Hi friends. I've written a lot about the emotional problems I experience from CPTSD, childhood trauma and parental abuse and neglect. Today I'm exploring the physical symptoms of early trauma. Many of these health issues (and they are many) are things I've experienced all my life but  never connected with  abuse and neglect. 

Quick backstory if you're reading for the first time. I grew up in unhealthy, unsafe conditions with four narcissistically abusive adults (two bio parents and their new partners). I was abused emotionally, physically, sexually, financially and medically, neglected, deprived of basic care, exploited, parentified, scapegoated, abandoned, endangered, toxically shamed and gaslit about it all, by all four of my parents. I only just, at 59, started really unpacking and talking about it. 

It's the medical abuse or actually medical neglect that I'm exploring today. But really, all the abuse, neglect, shaming, scapegoating, exploitation, endangerment and abandonment factor in. So the physical symptoms and conditions associated with CPTSD? Some of these might sound odd. But research has shown me that they are in fact quite commonly seen in childhood trauma survivors. 

But first, a word on the medical neglect (or neglect of medical care). This was part of a much larger pattern of neglect, deprivation, endangerment and abandonment. It began when I was a baby, in several ways. I was diagnosed with Congenital Hip Dysplasia and put in a Pavlik brace. All my mom remembers is that I cried and interrupted her but then got used to it.

It's my grandparents who told me about it. They worried all the things normal parents would worry about, but mine didn't. Once the brace was off, my parents seemed to forget all about it. No one ever checked to see of I had any residual problems. They didn't keep up with any follow-up. When I started having back problems (scoliosis, spina bifida and later, arthritis), no one cared. The fact that my dad and stepmom made me do all the heavy housework, vacuuming, mopping on hands and knees, ironing, sleeping with their babies and getting up at night with them,  climbing snowbanks to get laundry off the line (for real) tells me they didn't care a hoot if I had back problems or not. And they clearly never connected it with my hip problems. 

Now just a segue here on that. I've said before that their (expensive breed) dogs ate better than I did. Well, beyond that, they had better medical care. (this has a point, so bear with me). I recall all the vet visits their dogs had. When I asked why I might have so many back problems and could it be related to my hip issue, my dad got furious. He accused me of questioning his decision to put me in a brace and said "why don't you just sue me??" 

Of course I wasn't. I was just desperate to get feedback that might help. And that shut up any from him. I actually felt ashamed for asking and apologized. I apologized a lot to my dad for things I've not done.  But now I see that he felt stupid because he didn't know because he hadn't bothered to find out what the repercussions might be. But he knew all about the dog's problems. And it was, ironically, reading about German shepherds that led me to find the arthritis/ hip dysplasia link. Shepherds are prone to hip dysplasia and often develop arthritis from it and that ends up killing them. I find it further annoying how much info there is about dogs with these conditions and how little about  humans. I guess a lot of other people prioritize animals over people too. 

But it doesn't really matter because anything that could have been done about it then, wasn't and now I'm stuck with the arthritis, fused vertebra and neckbones, twisted spine, etc. And there we have ugly Mr. Medical Neglect to thank, again. Because they weren't there, they didn't care, it wasn't cared for, lather rinse repeat. 

All of which brings me back to my point which is the toll that abuse and neglect take on your health into adulthood. Being very self-centered, my parents were too preoccupied with themselves to have time for me. They still are. It's not a problem now because I cut most contact. But kids can't do that. They rely on parents. Or should be able to. But selfish parents are also incredibly unreliable. So I had to care for myself which was of course, impossible. Another vicious circle. 

I have had eye problems since I was a baby. But no one thought to have my vision tested or get me glasses till I was 12 and nearly blind. I've had years of headaches, blurred vision. I've had allergy issues since I was a kid but (wait for it) only just got tested as an adult. I had breathing problems that I only found out was apnea in adulthood. I've lived with chronic nightmares since I was 4 which I now know are CPTSD. And all my mom and her boyfriend did was to laugh at me because I talked and walked in my sleep. 

When I was six and we had moved to Alaska, I began having chronic throat problems. It didn't help that we were squatting in unheated homes without running water or electricity. Or that I was sleeping on the ground, floor or in a camp bed most of the time. Or that no one made sure I was getting enough to eat. Or that my dad had left us to wander around Alaska "preaching" and my mom was doing her own thing (having affairs, running off to Seattle, etc.). Or that I spent the majority of my time alone, homeless and wandering the town. 

But anyway, my throat got really bad. And they took me to an army MASH unit where I got cough drops. They didn't help. And my throat kept getting worse. Then my parents split and I was moved back to Michigan with my mom. Dad was still on perpetual holiday. By the time I was 9, I was chronically sick (like in missing 40 days of school in one year) with tonsillitis, strep throat and swollen glands. I was kept on penicillin for months at a time. That stripped out my immune system. I was left home alone when I was sick. My dad was back in town but I guess no one thought to have him come and stay with me? Or his new wife? Or my mom could have gotten a babysitter? But why would they? So I just managed on my own. 

It was only when my grandparents pushed them to find out what the actual was going on and why was nothing being done about it. Finally I had my tonsils out, was left alone all day to recuperate, got incredibly sick and lost a quarter of my body weight.  My mom and dad had their heads so far up their own asses that nobody noticed that I hadn't eaten in 3 weeks, following surgery. 

It was a little neighbor girl that brought it to my mom's attention that I was crying when trying to swallow some water. And then my mom got mad and forced me to eat applesauce which burned like hellfire. I think she was mad that yet again, someone else had to point out to her what would have been obvious to any parent. Or that someone would report her negligence leaving me alone so much. Or that I just interrupted her life. 

Another time, still living with my mom, I fell out of bed and broke my cheekbone. She just looked at it and said I'd be fine and to go to school. When I got to school, one half of my face was swollen to softball size. The school sent me home, thinking she'd do something about it. But she didn't. It wasn't till my dad saw me a few days later and said I needed it x-rayed that we found out I'd cracked my face. 

These are just a few of the instances of neglect I've lived with. And how it affects me now is probably not surprising. I have a lot of chronic pain but I'm so used to it that it has to get really bad before I do anything about it. And because I'm so used to being ignored, marginalized, dismissed and even punished for expressing a need, I don't. As one therapist put said "Girl, you have a scary high pain tolerance." 

After parental narcissistic abuse I'm not reparenting but just OG parenting

Hey friends, piggybacking on the last post, I'm looking today at how, after parental narcissistic abuse, I'm not reparenting but OG parenting myself. There is a lot of talk in childhood trauma survival about reparenting the wounded inner child. But if you missed out on a lot of it originally, as I did, you need to start from scratch. Especially if you were taught a lot of wrong things and gaslit about what was actually happening. 

Therapist and Youtuber Patrick Teahan and I must telepathically channel each other. Because just as I began to consider the many deficits I had in upbringing, he makes a video on developmental delays experienced due to abuse and neglect (which is just another form of abuse, thanks Patrick for affirming that). I've heard it called brain damage which is so accurate too. 

I can't remember any time that my life, up to early adulthood with my parents and their new spouses and families didn't include multiple forms of abuse. There was physical, sexual, emotional, mental, social, financial and medical abuse. At various times I was abandoned, endangered, exploited, gaslit, manipulated, shamed, parentified, scapegoated and always neglected. I was subjected to Draconian punishments for minor to nonexistent infractions. I was expected to do kinds of very adult things since around age 4 or 5. I was left to wander alone with no supervision, throughout my life . I was left out and left behind and regularly lied to. I was subjected to incredibly inappropriate adult behavior. I was gaslit that this was okay because my mom or dad was doing it but that others were wrong to. There was a looooot of hypocrisy. 

I was not taught to take care of myself. In fact, I was systematically indoctrinated not to care for myself. That it was sinful and selfish. My place was to care for others, to wait on, serve and let them hurt and exploit me. I was told that my normal kid behavior was wicked and selfish. Punishment was Draconian and cruel. I learned that to think or feel was wrong. If I expressed frustration or questioned, I was showing off or being "lippy." I had my mouth washed out with soap when I was 5 and by 8, was getting slapped across the face on a regular basis. I still don't know what I did or said that was wrong. Yet I was expected to know how to do things that many adults couldn't do, without any training. I spent a lot of time on my own, except when I had chores to do. Which was a lot. But even then, they pretty much ignored me, unless I randomly annoyed them. This happened a lot without warning too. And again, I still don't know what I did to upset them. 

So in all of this, I learned a lot of very dangerous things about myself, the world, and my place in it. I learned to expect to be hurt and exploited and that was what God wanted. What I didn't learn were , healthy coping skills and survival skills. I also had no social skills. I was used to watching my mom and dad and their spouses for cues. And that didn't serve me well. They did and said a lot of weird things I discovered did go over too well outside their little narcissistic fantasy worlds. They had a lot of odd ideas that didn't fit in well either. And being narcissists, they often behaved in awkward ways. 

I know you might think, oh yeah, all parents are weird to a kid. But it wasn't that. They weren't overprotective or anything like that. They weren't protective at all. They didn't care what I did so long as I was around to do the work. It was other adults who thought they were weird: kind of show-offy, oddly flirty, melodramatic, pouty, loudly Christian but also provocative and overtly sexual. Off behavior around kids. It wasn't me that thought so. I was always team parents. They could do no wrong in my eyes. I'll blog more on this later. 

The long and short of it is that I got zero, zilch, nada good and a lot of bizarre examples, of how be with other people. I had to kind of separate "real world" from "parent world" because the two were so different. I had to juxtapose how they did things and how everyone else around me (including their parents) was doing things. I had to be puppet-like, rigidly obedient, subservient and military respectful at home. I could never say how different my life outside home was. I could never bring problems home. They didn't care what happened as long as I played my part.

Dissociation and cognitive dissonance became my norm. I saw what was going on around me. I could see how polar opposite much of my life was. I was continually bewildered by my parents very unparental care of me vs. their apparent need for me to care for them. I saw other kids be kids with fairly reasonable expectations while I had all these adult things I was supposed to do. I saw other kids and adults react negatively to my parents' immoral and unsettling behavior. Yet I could never articulate that it was. It was wrong but okay because they did it. It was like living in parallel universes with very dissimilar rules, both of which were baffling to me. 

Living in this constant flux, had a disastrous effect on me. It caused my mind to existentially fracture. Then factor in all the neglect, gaslighting and constant nightmares. I literally believed that whatever bad I  got was good enough for who it was for. There were many times when I did not know reality from illusion. I still have trouble sorting it out. 

And factor in that it was very dangerous for me to express anything contrary to them. I was horribly embarrassed for example, that my mom was living with her boyfriend and that they behaved in rude, uncouth and immoral ways. She moved her brother and his girlfriend into my bedroom. They smoked, drank, cursed, partied and no one worked. It was worse because we went to church every Sunday and she considered herself a model Christian. 

But in 1972, where I lived, no one did this that I knew of.  It was considered trashy, Christian or not. I know people were talking about her, calling her loose and accusing her of "running around." Which she was and had been for years. But how does a child process all that? What kind of a terrible daughter would I be if I said anything. 

But I had to just paste a fake smile on and pretend it was okay. It wouldn't do to question my mom or do anything to thwart her getting what she wanted.  Even if it meant me getting really busted up in the process. And with her loose cannon boyfriend  whom she pitted against me and anyone who crossed her, I definitely  wasn't safe. Better to just play along and wear the perma-grin. 

So this is getting to novel length, lol. And I haven't really even touched on parenting vs. reparenting. I'll blog more about it but for now I'll end with this. When all you've gotten is shit in the upbringing department, better to throw it all out and begin fresh. That's what I'm trying to do.