Did you get bullied?

[Ziggiddy]

A common, a frighteningly common theme around here is that people got bullied. Not just by BPD family members or partners but also at school, in social environments and at work.

I have been thinking about different ways that I have been bullied and it makes me queasy to think I simply had no sense of standing up for myself and rarely anyone who would stand up for me.

I thought everybody had a rough adolescence and that everybody got bullied (or as I thought of it - was 'teased/made fun of'

After reading diaries from my teenage years and skipping through old school albums i am appalled to see the extent and frequency was well beyond what I had recalled.

Talked to two of the girls I was very good friends with in high school and in the course of the confab they spontaneously got onto the subject of bullying. i went quiet and was stunned I mean stunned at them pointing out to me that 1) they thought that I had been bullied far more than anyone we knew and 2) how little it seemed to affect me. This despite the fact that they have literally hundreds of letters cards notes from me where I am crying my anguish about how much pain the bullying put me in. They both remembered but just didn't really understand the scope.

I was hoping some of you might be willing to share your experiences or what you may have seen others go through. I know it's a painful subject but any input would br greatly welcomed.

[HappyChappy]

Ironcially, my GC older N Bro  use to be so violent with me that members of our gang stopped him bullying me. Then it was my N Bro that was bullied, as he's quiet and odd. My sister also was bullied. I was fisty and had friends (protection) so I only had one fight at school (which I won). However I did front out situations that were a bit dangerious at times - and no one ever called my bluff.

Intresting when people have had a go at me through out life - they've normally been very Narcisstic in their attacks/bullying. For example I had a member of staff, who was clearly narcisstic, who tried to bully money out of me, by makeing threats agains me and my kids and all sorts. He didn't get anything, but did damage my business .

I read that we children of Narcassists will attrack other N's . Yet I never saw myself as a target of bullying - the truth is I have been. Even thought I always fought back, didn't stop me being a target.

On another note, is there a spell checker on this forum ?

[lucyhoneychurch]

Yes, horribly bullied. Skinny flat-chested gangly little girl all through teen years. Even as I got pretty athletic (how I escaped the home abuse, running and playing tennis), I stayed so boyish - so lots of comments about no boobs, etc... . and expected to laugh as it was all "just kidding" bulls**t.   :'(

Teachers too... . I was a target for one man at age 13 he did stuff that would get him fired in this day and age, right in the middle of the classroom while everyone laughed at what he was doing and saying at me. The hurtful thing looking back is it was male attention that I craved, no matter how cruel he was - my father treated me like an invisible nothing.

I believe the home abuse marks us as prey. We have no idea how much we walk around *expecting* bullies to come after us; it's written all over us. Body language, posture, eye contact or lack thereof - I never whispered a word of what was going on at home to friends or nice teachers. She warned us it was our personal business.

My siblings bullied every bit as much - none of us able to speak up and say no.

The silent N father bullied by her too, even physically, so no example of anyone telling a damaged dangerous predator to back off and stop.

You think it's "normal." You think you deserve what you get. Self-esteem in the toilet. No ability to discern that you are a human being worthy of kindness.

so cut to adult years - bullied by women I was trying to be "good friends" with, i.e. I kissed their arses nonstop and did anything they asked me to and when it would finally dawn on me how manipulative these "friendships" were and how one-way, and I would try to back out a bit (they catch on real fast though, users and takers), and then think I had to explain... . another abusive connection would bite the dust.

My children are the only persons on the planet I would say I have profound wholesome ties to... . I told them every single day that they were good and deserved kindness and compassion and matched my actions with my words. I told them being kind to those in need or those they see being bullied is a must. 

They have all three stepped up and spoken up in school by reporting a situation that is getting out of hand with one child being targetted.  I am so proud of them for knowing they are only responsible for doing that - they can't fix anyone else but we are able to perhaps alert the right folks that this person needs help.

I will never buy that bullies bully out of their own pain. I have read articles and whole-heartedly agree that parts of their brains light up in studies when they are viewing bullying-type videos... . they like to see human pain.

They like inflicting it.

I do believe that bullied persons can sometimes respond with over the top reactions to situations - I have done it myself to completely and irrevocably let someone know they are so so so so SO out of my space and life.

As in just stop short of using every foul word I know.   

You get poked often enough in a trap, you tend to finally bite back.

That's not healthy but it's only natural.

My solution for apparently choosing bullies as friends all of these years (and I do glom onto them), is to limit my contact to people I have known and trusted for years.

People prove all the time that they are for you or against you. It IS that simple and black and white. And after wasting enough years being damaged and hurt, it's a better cycle to cut it that thoroughly than the lather rinse repeat of trying to find out too late that someone is a taker/user.

I'm sorry for your painful memories that were stirred up. But appreciate the fact you did not pass on the pain.

The cycle stopped with you and with me.     

[Haye]

Yup. At school. We moved when i was maybe nine years old. We had been growing in a small neighbourhood of hippielike artist and we moved to a very erm 'normal' neighborhood. Not surprising I didn't quite fit in. By twelve I was getting okey with the people around me, but then we moved again, and again to a totally new and different type of neighbourhood. And again i was bullied.

[isshebpd]

I took a lot of abuse, mainly from "friends", until my mid-teens. It ended when I stopped talking to a childhood "friend" who did something rotten to me and then laughed in my face. I ceased all communication with him, for good. Some of our mutual friends tried to heal the rift, but I wasn't interested. I was done with him.

Throughout the years, he tried to reach out to me, but I wasn't interested. A few years ago, over two decades after the fact, he apologized to me at a social gathering. "Look, I know I shouldn't do that to a bro." I humoured him, let him know I no longer hated him, but in my mind he can never be trusted.

I also loudly and verbally confronted a teacher who had been bullying me (and another kid) in our Grade 9 science class. Yes, I was wearing some odd clothes but, after months of taunting, I snapped. I was almost expelled for what I said to him... . loudly in front of many students. Nobody really bothered me after that   and I gained some schoolyard credibility.

So, like a lot of others here, I tolerated a lot of bullying until... . BOOM.

At one point, a group of boys a year younger than me wouldn't leave me alone. It reached the point of food fights between me and them. All of a sudden it stopped. They were about to start bugging me again, when one of them called it off. Apparently, one of my best friends knew them, and me just being associated with this friend got me a "Get out of Bullying Free" card. Weird how it works.

Another time I was at soccer practice, and a couple of boys were making fun of a teammate (though not directly to his face this time) who was often the target of ridicule. I don't know why he was targeted, other than he kept mostly to himself and had a soccer-nut father who put a lot of pressure on him. I asked the two boys why they were doing that. One of them basically told me to shut up or I they'd start talking about me instead. And I walked away.

So, yeah, bullies consciously and purposefully choose their targets in many cases. They are not doing it because they are "hurting inside". It is deliberate manipulation to determine where people stand in the social hierarchy, and some idle amusement.

[Ziggiddy]

This is pretty interesting to me as I was completely passive. instructed by BPD/NPD parents to "Just hold your head high and walk away" I was terrified of the consequences of standing up. It didn't occur to me to fight back which is also interesting as I am large. like 5'10 even in high school.

I was fisty and had friends (protection) so I only had one fight at school (which I won). However I did front out situations that were a bit dangerious at times - and no one ever called my bluff.

Even thought I always fought back, didn't stop me being a target.

On another note, is there a spell checker on this forum ?

Not sure about the spellchecker on the forum - you might activate it on your device?

I believe the home abuse marks us as prey. We have no idea how much we walk around *expecting* bullies to come after us; it's written all over us. Body language, posture, eye contact or lack thereof

You think it's "normal." You think you deserve what you get. Self-esteem in the toilet. No ability to discern that you are a human being worthy of kindness.

I will never buy that bullies bully out of their own pain.

They like inflicting it.

You get poked often enough in a trap, you tend to finally bite back.

That's not healthy but it's only natural.

I'm sorry for your painful memories that were stirred up. But appreciate the fact you did not pass on the pain.

The cycle stopped with you and with me.     

Absolutely agree with the idea that many enjoy it. And being bullied at home seems to make for victims more often than perpetrarors. Although I had the crap kicked out of me by this one girl. i'll call her Carolyn because well that's her name (JK) She came at me from behind while 3 other girls were reciting the rules of the fight (obviously preplanned. And oh so brave. 4 against 1 and they were all older. Well Caro got me on the ground rugby style, climbed on to my chest kneeled on my arms and grabbed ahold of my hair thumped my head onto the ground till I was near unconscious. Ripped chunks of it out. Well the next day at school she apologised in a whisper and I could see stark raving terror on her face. She was appalled at herself. I forgave (I was well trained for that by floggings from BPD/NPDm and would have done it anyway.) Well this girl was a fairly near neighbour of mine (ironically) and out in the yard one night could hear the scrwams coming from her house as her brothers father and/or uncle were laying into her. Still chills me now 35 years later. We actually became friends after that. What kind of homelife did she have that taught her to smack someone's head in the ground. She was 11 for crying out loud.

So, yeah some bullies are made whilst others are just malicious vicious sadists.

A far as it being unhealthy to fight back I'm not sure. I sure as hell wish I had had permission to look for the faults and weaknesses in the ones humiliating me. Would have been happy to scrap back I think

thanks for the comment at the end, too. )

Yup. At school. We moved when i was maybe nine years old. We had been growing in a small neighbourhood of hippielike artist and we moved to a very erm 'normal' neighborhood. Not surprising I didn't quite fit in. By twelve I was getting okey with the people around me, but then we moved again, and again to a totally new and different type of neighbourhood. And again i was bullied.

haye that's a helluva thing. Interesting that an environmental change brought about similar conditions again though.

At one point, a group of boys a year younger than me wouldn't leave me alone. It reached the point of food fights between me and them. All of a sudden it stopped. They were about to start bugging me again, when one of them called it off. Apparently, one of my best friends knew them, and me just being associated with this friend got me a "Get out of Bullying Free" card.

So, yeah, bullies consciously and purposefully choose their targets in many cases. They are not doing it because they are "hurting inside". It is deliberate manipulation to determine where people stand in the social hierarchy, and some idle amusement.

This just reminded me of something weird, isheBPD. Had a similar thing happen in high school where this popular girl took a shine to me and suddenly the worst of the bullying abated as her boyfriend was one of their crew (although he was never cruel like them) Oddly enough in later years it occurred to me that the girl who befriended me was actually quite messed up and was undermining me and insulting me in the most insidious ways! If I was talking to someone 'popular' that she had more entitlement to talk to (from having rescued me from ignominy she was entitled to my eternal devotion and slavery (apparently) she would literally place herself between us. physically squeeze in and jiggle down to separate us! She was master of the sly putdown "Oh are you wearing THAT dress to the dance? Maybe you should wear a black dress. You know. because of your weight." or Sorry darl that guy you like? He likes ME. Sorry mate. Hope you're not too upset." Find out years later he did like me and he hated her. And she KNEW it! wth?

Think I traded one type of bully for another!

[HappyChappy]

So, like a lot of others here, I tolerated a lot of bullying until... . BOOM.

Couple of people have made the above point. I never realised that when I over react to perceived bullying (when stressed) that this is normal for bullied ACoRNs. You live and learn.

School kids come past my shop window, and see me working - head down. One punched the window really hard one day, and as I'm hyper vigilant currently, I jumped out of my seat. He loved it. So guess what, he was punching it every day. I then read about how your body language suggest you have low sell esteem. I put on my leather jacket sat upright, and eyeballed him as he walked by - he stopped doing it.

I also remember at school, a very Narcissistic teacher use to bully me. I'm dyslexic and back then it wasn't recognised. He would pull my hair till it ripped. He would have me stand up in class and read out aloud - and I would mispronounce words and he would laugh out loud like a child. Ironically, not one classmate joined in. I remember the school bully (the female one) telling me he was out of order and I should skip his classes. Mind you, I always though the class bully gave me a free pass as she had an abusive Mum also and related. She eventually got expelled for going down a hit list. As the saying goes "the female of the species is more deadly than the male." Just being provocative.

Ziggiddy Great user name and great topic.

[Turkish]

I have a genetic condition where I look a bit different than other kids. i was bullied mercilessly from kindergarten when I first became aware of it, until about 15 in high school when kids became more mature, and I was no longer a skinny beanpole (I was also the third youngest in my class, graduated at 17 from hs, so I was slightly behind, physically). My mom told me that my 2nd grade teacher bullied me as well, so she took me out of that school and put me into a small private one.

It waxed and waned. My mom, while periodically bullying me at home with her BPD-like emotional instability and angers, did defend me a lot, though. She said when I was three, a woman made a comment in the five and dime store that "children like that (me) should be institutionalized!" My mom said she actually kicked the woman.

When I was 12, some drunk 18 year old punk approached me in a gas station as I was  paying, and asked me why I looked like that. I was so tired of it, I did the wrong thing and responded snarkily, "because God made me that way." He followed me back to our car, and he sucker punched me. My head went towards the car, spraying blood, and my head went the other way, my glasses landing 10 ft away. I remember it didn't even hurt, I was so shocked. I have never been punched like that ever, and never again, not even when I took boxing for years as an adult (well, we had gloves, and we just sparred, no full power head punches).

Having learned that lesson, in junior high school, two kids in the class took a shining to me in a bad way. I responded passively. They always wanted to fight me after school, and called me out on it several times in front of other kids. I thought to myself, "you show up, I'll be on the bus home!" I never rose to their bait.

We lived in a small town, which I moved away from my 18th birthday. Years later, I was back in town and happened to walk out of the bowling alley. Who should come in the door, but one of my junior high school tormenters (I never had classes with him in high school, because I was one of the smawt kids, and on a different track). He was startled, and exclaimed, "Turkish! Wow, you're BIG!" This was a few years before I even started lifting weights and boxing, but yes, I naturally am. In a moment, he looked at me and said, "hey, you know all when I used to give you a hard time back in school, I'm really sorry about that." He was totally sincere, too. He said it so instantly, that I could tell the guilt was at the top of his mind.

You know what? In that instant, I forgave him. I smiled, shook his hand, and said, "That's ok, that was a long time ago, dude." He grinned wider, and said, "thanks, hey, we're going to a party at so-and-so's house, you can come if you want!" I replied, "thanks, but I have to go somewhere else with my friends, maybe next time," and then parted ways.

I heard that he may have ended up in jail for something minor around that time. 18 years later, he found me on FB and friend requested me. I accepted it. I saw in a year that he had some type of cancer and was on chemo. He seemed to have beat it, is married and has a few kids, too. I'm glad that he seems to be doing better now, and is stable. Rarely is someone irredeemable, but they have to look for and work on that redemption. I won't rescue, but I will certainly do my part by granting forgiveness if by seeking penance, they ask for it. 

[P.F.Change]

Ziggidy,

As you can see, you are not alone in having experienced bullying as a child. Many of us were bullied at home and didn't receive support or skills to cope with bullying that we may have experienced outside of the home.

Looking at the Survivor's Guide, remembering the abuse we experienced and how we felt about it is an important part of the process. Where do you see yourself in the Guide? Do you think you may be ready to take a look at Step 7?

"REMEMBERING [Step 7]: This step involves turning inward, away from the violence and pain of your abuse, to reach inside to your inner child and begin learning how to nurture and develop this vulnerable part of yourself... . "

What is the next step for you in processing the bullying, Ziggidy?

Wishing you peace,

PF

[Gowest]

This is pretty interesting to me as I was completely passive. instructed by BPD/NPD parents to "Just hold your head high and walk away"

"Just ignore them" yep.

Used to get bullied unmercifully, and I do blame my mother for essentially drawing a target on me by training me to react to abuse in a pleasing way.

[HappyChappy]

This is pretty interesting to me as I was completely passive. instructed by BPD/NPD parents to "Just hold your head high and walk away"

"Just ignore them" yep.

Used to get bullied unmercifully, and I do blame my mother for essentially drawing a target on me by training me to react to abuse in a pleasing way.

How do you train your children to not get wound up about bullying ? My daughter gets wound up something proper by her  younger brother - not unusuall. And we keep saying that he only does it to get her wound up. But she can't help herself. They're starting to grow out of this, but ... .

[Ziggiddy]

Jeez Turkish. What an experience. I am impressed you forgave the bloke. I think you can feel a genuine apology. And it is fairly interesting that it was upmost in his mind when he saw you. I have seen many of my bullies over the years to varying reaction. And not the ones I expected either. It flummoxes me that I am such a bad judge of character and that people are so unpredictable to me. i guess I am overly cynical.

Looking at the Survivor's Guide, remembering the abuse we experienced and how we felt about it is an important part of the process. Where do you see yourself in the Guide? Do you think you may be ready to take a look at Step 7?

What is the next step for you in processing the bullying, Ziggidy?

PF

You make a timely point there, PF. I confess I was at a loss as to what to do about it - wanting for the moment to compare with others experiences perhaps to validate that it was bullying (I am sure it was but I feel the need you know?)

Very very good thing to point me back to the survivor's guide. i had downloaded it and printed it but 'forgot' to go back to it. I confess I am further back than I thought - still remembering and assimilating experiences and trying to fit them in a broader context of what they meant then rather than what they mean now.

I would like to review them with adult perspective but i am not there yet. Right now I am re experiencing and feeling painful fear and a desire to crawl inside myself.  This needs further thought. I feel full of tears and outrage but just DO NOT want to cry!

[Turkish]

Right now I am re experiencing and feeling painful fear and a desire to crawl inside myself.  This needs further thought. I feel full of tears and outrage but just DO NOT want to cry!

Hi Ziggiddy, is it that you are tired of crying, or that you don't feel safe doing it?

[lucyhoneychurch]

Hello again Zig... . if you had a friend who was feeling like you are, sort of bottled up with tears and pain and confusion, I know you would sit beside that person and say, Well I'm right here, it's okay with me if you cut loose, and let it out... . I understand.

Sometimes we are the only friends WE have. If you are sensing that there are tears there, I really do just recommend... . let them come... . it's a cleansing thing. Sometimes I know it seems once they start they won't stop. Maybe all the more a sign we needed to really purge that type of pain.

Outrage is such a natural "shock" symptom maybe even years later to abuse. HOW DARE THEY? and really, how dare they... . I am outraged on your behalf... . and mine... . and my siblings'. We deserved so so much better and so much more.

Yet reality is... . it wasn't there.

We didn't just get let down. We got trampled. Ruined. Very badly damaged.

Fear and wanting to crawl away are natural reactions (fight or flight) to battery and assault, whether physical mental/emotional or all of them. 

As adults, and sometimes on our own... . we have to create our own "sanctuaries." Not just a bedroom to run to and close the door - although I think that's a very good idea at times. But a safe place in our thoughts... . I like horses alot. I will never have a horse. But when I do get to ride, one of my favorite things about it is grooming the horse before I tack him up. You have a curry brush, and you lift his mane, and you make his coat under his mane and down his neck so smooth - sometimes there might be mud from the pasture... . or grass or dust... . but you can enjoy the soft sounds of the curry brush and feel the lovely muscles and watch his eyes close in the sun as he enjoys getting some TLC... .

When I get where I can't sleep and I am ruminating and RELIVING a very hurtful painful experience... . I will breathe deep, and keep my eyes closed and see myself out at my friend's farm with this big palomino waiting for me to groom him. And I visualize and can feel his coat and the soft sound of his breath and the rumble down in his chest as he whinnies at another horse... .

What means enough to you that it can take you away from the momentary flashback that is scaring you?

It works for me. It really does.

Because I get so caught up in a familiar, comforting memory I am really inside that memory.

It's a little lifeboat for my heart.

I just row away in my mind... . and it helps so much.

[P.F.Change]

Hi Ziggiddy, is it that you are tired of crying, or that you don't feel safe doing it?

This is a good question. What do you think? What does it mean if you cry?

[Turkish]

Hi Ziggiddy, is it that you are tired of crying, or that you don't feel safe doing it?

This is a good question. What do you think? What does it mean if you cry?

I once heard that anger was an outward manifestation of pain. My uBPDx confirmed this when I asked her, and she said when she was raging, she wanted everyone else to feel her pain. Rage and anger can hurt others. So what is crying?

Perhaps it is the manifestation and acknowledgment of one's pain without hurting others by raging (though crying and raging can certainly co-exist). Maybe it is acceptance, rather than keeping it bottled inside where it can build up and explode in a rage or other hurtful behaviors to one's self or others.

After I had been seeing my T for a while, and sure I did cry a little in the beginning, he asked me, "do you cry? You know it's ok to cry." I replied, "what do you think I have been doing for the past two months man? I cry at home, in the car, at work, when I am alone with the kids (though I kept them from seeing me like that, being so young), at night as I go to sleep."

I did it for many months. Me, a guy who went years without crying over anything, except perhaps a tear from a movie or song that moved me. I think the last time I really cried was when I was maybe 15. Then I decided not to. Seal it away. Suppress the pain from my childhood. Move forward... . only to find a decade and a half later a woman who was so like my mom emotionally that it was uncanny.

So through the many months of the destruction and loss of my dream (the nuclear family that I never had), I let it go. I felt it would never stop. She's been gone since early Feb. The other day, I felt like crying, then it just stopped. To get to that point, I went through many months of letting it out, the intense pain of loss and acknowledgment of my new reality. I still struggle with it (and probably will for a while... . the mild to moderate depression), but it's a long process, and I have nothing but time.

[Ziggiddy]

Thank you, guys for your concerns and your thoughts. I am ever surprised at the positive help and the consistently useful feedback and questions. How do I answer without seeming perverse?  When I am sore (internally in pain) it's mine. If I cry it lessens and then I have less. Clear as mud? I will try and clarify: when I was 15 I was in a car accident where the driver and the other passenger both suffered brain damage to different degrees. I suffered a head injury and was in in intensive care for 2 weeks. This marked the beginning of the time where I learned I could no longer trust myself to care for my body completely and I learned to stop living by instinct.  The guy who was driving never learned to walk or talk again properly. Whilst I was in hospital I had a stream of visitors who commiserated with my stupid decision to get in a car that resulted in me fracturing my skull, my neck my back spraining both ankles bruising my clavicle and necessitating several stitches to my arm and my leg. The whole time I spent feeling so terribly guilty that I was not injured worse but the 'class heroes' were banged up so badly - promising sporting careers cut off forever.

About 2 years ago the driver dies in a car accident in which he was driving. I was gutted. Then a very wise friend of mine whom I called in distress said a remarkable thing. "So he was permanently brain damaged and partly paralysed in his leg - why was he driving? And more to the point, not content with nearly having killed you and the other guy he went ahead and did it all over again." Wow. it never occurred to me in 30 years that I had a right to be mad at him for being responsible for my injuries. And then I stopped being upset and I stopped crying. it was suddenly mine. this right. this thing inside. And as absurd as it sounds (even to me. Especially to me!) this is mine. If I 'let it all hang out' what if there's nothing left for me in the end?

Rationally it's the thing to do - these things are causing me asthma from 'suffocation' of sorts ... . but is it preferable to finally indict my parents?

Like you said, lucyhc "We didn't just get let down. We got trampled. Ruined. Very badly damaged." this means acknowledging I am really that. That THEY are really that. Maybe I'm stuck in Stockholm but what if there's really nothing left after the flood? .

[lucyhoneychurch]

Since you asked      Yes better to indict someone inside your heart, really cough up the truth of what happened, what they were, maybe that they didn't love you or "only loved you the best way they knew how" as we hear so often... . better to do that than suffocate.

Ever see those great old movies where there's a shipwreck and the lone survivor is facedown in the sand, sodden, weak, water rippling around the one side of his face getting any air? They lie there... . they struggle... . you see them pulling their legs up under them... . then they stand... . and they have to figure out what new land this is... . where are they... . will they make it... . who else might be here - the *unknown* is out there and not so friendly perhaps... but hey... . the point is... . they're not fish food back in the deep blue sea.   

You were in a shipwreck the minute that driver wrecked the first time. You crawled out mentally and emotionally as your physical person started to heal. Then you hear it happened again. HE DID IT AGAIN.  Yes you had a right to be mad at him a long time ago when your dying and living were suddenly in such close proximity as a young 15-yr-old... . you were triggered into that again hearing he'd "did it all over again" as your dear wise friend said.

An indictment, legally, means that the jury is still out. It means there is simply enough evidence to move forward with a case... . the case in this instance is - was your family really "that" bad for you? Only you can and will decide... . you do get to be the judge and jury because you were also the victim/target. You were the wronged party.

So yes, tears could be your last defining acknowledgment that you were abused and malpracticed over and over and it could end the suffocation once and for all.

If you're in a state of constant mental and emotional faint... . flush your system with the truth and just see if the flood of mental O2 makes any difference. What could you really lose? Hypoxia is a rotten way to live.

I'm vouching for tears. Just because... . I cry and then I really cry... . and the utter collapse just lets me get the residual toxic gases out of my thoughts.

That's my personal take on what you've dealt with. You have had it hard. Really bad.  Be your best friend now and give yourself permission to grieve and mourn.   I'm so sorry. It will be okay. 

[P.F.Change]

And as absurd as it sounds (even to me. Especially to me!) this is mine. If I 'let it all hang out' what if there's nothing left for me in the end?

Are you saying you are holding on to the pain because you have adopted it as your identity?

Rationally it's the thing to do - these things are causing me asthma from 'suffocation' of sorts ... . but is it preferable to finally indict my parents?

Survivor's Guide, Step 5:

"This is an essential step in recovery because, without seeing that your parents/abusers were at fault, you will have difficulty in facing the remaining tasks of recovery: directing your anger away from yourself and towards them, uncovering your shame and understanding how the abuse affects your life today."

[Turkish]

And as absurd as it sounds (even to me. Especially to me!) this is mine. If I 'let it all hang out' what if there's nothing left for me in the end?

Are you saying you are holding on to the pain because you have adopted it as your identity?

Rationally it's the thing to do - these things are causing me asthma from 'suffocation' of sorts ... . but is it preferable to finally indict my parents?

Survivor's Guide, Step 5:

"This is an essential step in recovery because, without seeing that your parents/abusers were at fault, you will have difficulty in facing the remaining tasks of recovery: directing your anger away from yourself and towards them, uncovering your shame and understanding how the abuse affects your life today."

So could crying in a way be anger and shame directed upon one's self? If that's part of the process, then showing anger is the next step? I know my T was pleased when I finally showed anger over what was done. It felt weird for him to say that, like it was ok to be angry. I guess this goes back to my FOO where my mother forced me into counseling rather than trying to understand why I was acting out towards her.

[Ziggiddy]

Road to Damascus moment!

Are you saying you are holding on to the pain because you have adopted it as your identity?

I think that is exACTly what I was thinking. Ho-lee snapping duckdo, Batman.  What a painful realisation. But also kind of relieving. I am SCARED to blame them. Back to stupid paralysing fear. I know I will lose what little love I have for them by taking the rose coloured pane down. I guess it's the only way to perhaps build something new and real. So sad. So very very sad. And I would like to believe it's not my fault. Somehow it feels like I am bringing us all to this. I get the sense from mother that "Why are you stirring all this up?" even though I can't talk to her about it. The deisre to just go back to how it all was is quite powerful.

[Ziggiddy]

lucyhoneychurch your words have touched me deeply. Thank you. Really. I am printing them to reread. I can't even reply right now but I will

Turkish - So could crying in a way be anger and shame directed upon one's self?

yes yes yes. I sense that is true. It feels like giving in. Like the schoolyard bullies surrounding me and saying "Are you gonna cry? Go on! Cry crybaby cry" it's not that. I know it's not that, but that's what's surfacing

[Turkish]

lucyhoneychurch your words have touched me deeply. Thank you. Really. I am printing them to reread. I can't even reply right now but I will

Turkish - So could crying in a way be anger and shame directed upon one's self?

yes yes yes. I sense that is true. It feels like giving in. Like the schoolyard bullies surrounding me and saying "Are you gonna cry? Go on! Cry crybaby cry" it's not that. I know it's not that, but that's what's surfacing

Giving in, or acknowledging it and letting it out? The proverbial bullies are the   in your head, implanted there long ago.

When I was 6, we were on the way to school. I don't even remember if my mom was... . "getting on my case" that morning or not. I don't think so, but she may have been in a mood. I remember she reached for the gear shift, or something in the center console and I flinched. She then backhanded me hard enough that my head hit the window. I cried out, "why did you hit me?" my my little inner Turki___o voice wondering what I did wrong to deserve that, because when she hit me, I usually knew I did something wrong. She replied, "if you act like you're going to get hit, then you will be!" Even at 6, I remember thinking: 

I rarely felt safe showing my emotions, I was a very quiet kid.

[Ziggiddy]

  Yes you had a right to be mad at him a long time ago when your dying and living were suddenly in such close proximity as a young 15-yr-old... . you were triggered into that again hearing he'd "did it all over again" as your dear wise friend said.

An indictment, legally, means that the jury is still out. It means there is simply enough evidence to move forward with a case... . the case in this instance is - was your family really "that" bad for you? Only you can and will decide... . you do get to be the judge and jury because you were also the victim/target. You were the wronged party.

So yes, tears could be your last defining acknowledgment that you were abused and malpracticed over and over and it could end the suffocation once and for all.

Hypoxia is a rotten way to live.

That's my personal take on what you've dealt with. You have had it hard. Really bad.  Be your best friend now and give yourself permission to grieve and mourn.   I'm so sorry. It will be okay. 

I have spent quite a bit of time slowly mulling over some of these thoughts lucy. And I did have a weep. More for the fact of the sympathy and understanding across the ether from someone who obviously has a heart and compassion. it made me realise how very sorely that has been lacking in so many of my r'ships and friendships. i had to acknowledge that I have kept up friendships with people who don't care all that much for my problems. That made me sad but then I felt better. Like "Poor Zig. Hasn't got caring friends." then "Lucky Zig! Now she's learning to identify that and get better healthier NICER friends!"

I was gobsmacked by your comment on acknowledging that I was abused - again not for what should have been obvious to me but by hearing someone else 'say' it. So busy was I coping with the idea of my parents being abusers (such a damnable cliche and I HATE being a cliche!) that I completely overlooked the idea of myself as being an abused child. Maybe part of the training? Still about THEM and not about ME? I don't know. But it felt kind of ... . well powerful to think it. To say it.

I am so sick and tired of so many people I have known talking about their rotten childhoods which seemed glamourous and easy in comparison to some other kids I have known. Maybe I was drained of empathy or insensitive but I would feel like this: one friend "I don't speak to my father because he chucked a bucket of water at me when i was a kid" Oh. And? And what? No that's it. how cruel and hurtful. Ok then i compare that with another friend who, as a teen i'd go to meet up with to go out. there she is all dolled up in pretty dress nice shoes, lovely lipgloss all starry eyes and ready to go out and her mother would say "Oh I've changed my mind you can't go out. You stay home and baby sit, i'm going out instad" Over and over. She had to quit playing sport because mum was off on her social life and needed my friend to stay in and do laundry. And cook tea. And wash dishes. And get sibs ready for school. I watched her whole adolescence stolen from her and her mother belittle her and compete with her and thought "Your father chucked a bucket of water at you? Is that ALL? Really?" Am I hard hearted?

Anyway the shorter meaning is that I lost comparative points and saw so much dysfunction and pain that my own story and voice became softer and less important. Other people had it worse, much worse and very few of my friends were compassionate. The conversation always quickly turned to THEIR problems. What you have said in this comment above lucyhoneychurch has actually affected my mindset. I have decided to try and listen to myself as if I were as important as the next person. As abused as the next kid.

i am not yet equipped to judge as I still have an irrational fear of reprisal but I am just that one leap closer! Thankyouthankyouthankyou

[lucyhoneychurch]

Bullied children, who grow into adults, only know how to whisper "ouch that was so painful." We do not shriek, scream, shake our fists - we know better than that - because if we thought the initial bullying abuse was bad enough, we know that any "rebellion" on our part will only bring more.

As real adults now, of legal age, with rights, more ability to look into the crystal ball of years gone by and say, MY GOD that was SO WRONG how dare she! how dare HE/THEY?

The whisper almost needs to become a wail - wailing is what many cultures officially do at funerals or burials -

Someone set us on "mute" because as we know - secrets protect abusers.

Zig... . it took my being a mother to very young children to scan across my past and my siblings' and feel outrage, disgust, fury... . sometimes those emotions can be hard to channel safely especially if you are around tiny ones who won't ever understand you're hurting - journals and artwork are great for safely dumping our thoughts into little capsules that can be burned, buried, used for target practice   

I have always argued against the thought, "Well, everything's relative... . you know... . us kids weren't in a concentration camp or starved - we had it bad but not THAT bad... . "

One hell cannot be compared or re-struck to pale to someone else's... .

We had ONE childhood, ONE innocence, ONE chance to breathe carefree air and feel joy and laugh - your lovely little friend who watched her mother play the teen and had to mother at a young age, housekeep at a tender age - both of you living in worlds that were robbed of light.

Hug yourself.     My garden is one way I hug myself - the weeds are ripped out, they cannot suck the nutrients away from the invited perennials... . invasive intruders are not welcome.  The blooms are faces that greet me and dance in the wind. Trees that are now mature that I planted when we first arrived shade me. I am hugged.   

My daughter loves to cook. The kitchen is her refuge, even after a long day at work - this she did not get from me . Her special ingredients that she had to track down at specialty shops are her "self-hug."

What would be your self-hug? I know you have one. We all do.

One day my self-hug is going to be returning to France and riding trains wherever the hell I choose.    oui? 

[lucyhoneychurch]

Oh Turk   :'(

' "When I was 6, we were on the way to school. I don't even remember if my mom was... . "getting on my case" that morning or not. I don't think so, but she may have been in a mood. I remember she reached for the gear shift, or something in the center console and I flinched. She then backhanded me hard enough that my head hit the window. I cried out, "why did you hit me?" '

Yes, the automatic flinch and shrink and dodge and duck for cover - as kids hardly old enough to write our own names. The retort after being hit for flinching and then crying was, "I'll give you something to cry about." This was a woman approaching 250 lbs. How old do kindergarteners weigh soaking wet, 40 lbs? maybe?

So an elephant slamming a lamb.

That is what it was. Totally and completely - something that huge and unfair and monstrous and CRIMINAL - these days, just think if an educator or caregiver did a fraction of what we lived with every day -

Jail time.

So this is why we have to say, I didn't deserve that. Hug the little tiny person you used to be.

I had cornsilk blonde hair, white blonde, as a little girl. I framed some of the tiny waify little pix... . just to let myself know this little thing couldn't fight back, she couldn't protect her little sister nor her little brothers.

It blasphemes "family." Doesn't it?

Love never ever ever inflicts pain.

No matter how many times it's the excuse for what someone is doing to us.

My guilt about my younger siblings and my NOT telling, like I was warned about doing, eats me up to this day. This very moment in fact.

 but it is what it is. Sadly.   

[Ziggiddy]

Definitely gave me some useful things to chew over there, lhc. I will also say that your comment about the 'relative' brought an unexpected gasping sob. You kind of tpped into something that I had not articulated. And I am trying to learn to place blame at the feet of the people who convinced me it was not their fault. Working working on it.

Like you, becoming a mother altered my perceptions. i stopped thinking in terms of "I had a golden childhood"  ( damnable die - true propaganda) and wondered why I whispered softly to myself "I will NEVER use a belt on this beautiful sweet little girl" I will never belittle her call her names, steal her accomplishments. I won't laugh at the things she thinks are important. I won't deride her when her choices don't coincide with mine. etc It meant then asking myself Why am I even thinking about those things? I wasn't ready to answer that then

Your question about self hugs has bothered me for ages. It's worth a separate post! ;o)

Bullied children, who grow into adults, only know how to whisper "ouch that was so painful." We do not shriek, scream, shake our fists - we know better than that - because if we thought the initial bullying abuse was bad enough, we know that any "rebellion" on our part will only bring more

Someone set us on "mute" because as we know - secrets protect abusers.

Zig... . it took my being a mother to very young children to scan across my past and my siblings' and feel outrage, disgust, fury

I have always argued against the thought, "Well, everything's relative... . you know... . us kids weren't in a concentration camp or starved - we had it bad but not THAT bad... . "

One hell cannot be compared or re-struck to pale to someone else's... .

What would be your self-hug?

[Ziggiddy]

Turkish I did not see your comment. Now that I have it rips my heart to shreds with indignation. HOW DARE SHE?  Trying hard not to throw something at the wall. You were a little kid. How DARE she?

[Turkish]

Turkish I did not see your comment. Now that I have it rips my heart to shreds with indignation. HOW DARE SHE?  Trying hard not to throw something at the wall. You were a little kid. How DARE she?

Hi Zig, thanks for the sympathy. That was 36 years ago, however... . I often would end up at school in tears for something. One time, a teacher in 4th grade picked up on it and started to interrogate me. I shut up quickly and said everything was fine. She gave me a long look and let it lie. I think I said it before here, but I think her attitude was that her abuse was so much worse (it was!) that she wasn't abusing me, and also think that this was the 1970s and early '80s, where attitudes were different. From the survivor's guide: The child's often distorted perceptions of who was responsible are enhanced by the parents'/abusers' indictments. "I'm beating you because you are a bad boy." "I am showing you how much I love you."

I bet many of us got that.

As I grew into the strapping young lad who stands before you now, her abuse got more severe, but physically, I became bigger than her. I remember one of the last times she tried to hit me (I don't remember why she was raging at me... . I was a teenager, I was "bad," or whatever). "Stop arguing with me!" I'm just trying to defend and explain myself. "No, you're arguing!" :^|

My buddy (the guy whom I think a brother who lived through the woods a short distance) and I were into martial arts and ninjas (hey, it was the '80s!). My mom went to hit me and I grabbed her left wrist and held her arm away, She kind of growled and then went to smack me with her other hand and I grabbed that wrist, holding her further away from me. She was so frustrated that she then kicked me in the shin (no, it wasn't bad, it was a weak blow). Sad to say that as a grown man if I did that now, I'd probably be the one hauled off to jail. I think I was 15.

The year when I left the house, I had just turn 17. She was mad at me for something, and slapped me hard across the face. My natural instinct was to hit her back, and I did instantly raise my hand (for the record, despite years of boxing, and various weapons training, I've never been in real fight, not hit anyone out of anger in my life), but stopped it. She then looked at me and said, "what? Are you going to hit your own mother?" I sighed and walked away.

M uBPDx would get angry at me, though she was more of a quiet rager. The loud fights in 6 years I can almost count on one hand. It was mostly me shutting down. My FOO. Abandonment in the eyes of a BPD, which may have resulted in a nasty feedback loop with my mother as well.

[Ziggiddy]

  I think her attitude was that her abuse was so much worse (it was!) that she wasn't abusing me, and also think that this was the 1970s and early '80s, where attitudes were different.


She then looked at me and said, "what? Are you going to hit your own mother?" I sighed and walked away.

This is a sticking point with me. "It was the 80's". That does not make  it validate-able. if you think about it, this is a mere 15 years after the famous Dr Spock child rearing book was a best seller and many recommended practices were undertaken by that generation.

For me more the 70's. The worst physical abuse was 77-79. A lot of my friends were 'disciplined' the same way -mostly with a belt but it was not till a couple of years ago that I discovered that the use of the belt was different on most of them than us. For instance I asked my husband ":)id you ever get belted as a kid?" He laughed and said "Yeah, but we were pretty rebellious - coming in from the paddock two hours late, running off instead of doing chores." then I questioned him further - what was a belting in your household? It turns out that him and his brother were hit with a belt twice on two occasions across jeans-clad butts. They both didn't think it really hurt and they both consider that they got away with heaps of stuff without more than a lecture or a telling off.

i compared that to the traumatising publicly humiliating stuff my brother suffered - Dad would absolutely go into a blind red rage and disappear somewhere just mechanically yelling and methodically pounding him. On more than one occasion he was copping it for something he did to me and yet I'd be leaping on my dad's back trying to haul him off. This did not seem similar to other kids' experiences.

From the survivor's guide: The child's often distorted perceptions of who was responsible are enhanced by the parents'/abusers' indictments. "I'm beating you because you are a bad boy." "I am showing you how much I love you."

I read somewhere yesterday regarding the '3 mothers' - three types of mothers. One ~ I love you and show you I love you. Two ~ I hate you and admit I hate you. Three ~ I hate you but I pretend I love you. The third, three, being the most destructive because of the mixed messages.

I have read of kids with NPD parents who feel they are more balanced because they have a clear idea of their parent's hatred for them and work specifically to recover from that whereas the borderline personality confuses the child because they are on occasion very loving and normal. For me, 'the child ephemeral' was all about re engaging that warm hearted loving mother. Where was she? She was who I thought was there all the time occasionally obscured by these other 'moods'. And naturally it was dependent upon my behaviour which one would appear.

I see now more clearly that that is why i assume responsibility for so much and so many. never really got past the notion that it is completely and utterly nothing to do with me whomever surfaces in her (or my BPD -seeming friends, for that matter) I would like to somehow believe that nothing I could have done would have brought about a different result but alas, I am not there yet!