What were your most horrific experiences?

[JNChell]

Some of us give a lot of detail when it comes to our past. Our childhoods. Some of us don’t. It’s also been stated more times than not that we don’t have people in our lives that understand. Everyone gets it here.

This thread is meant to be personal.

What are your most horrific memories? What happened to you?

[Notwendy]

It's hard to say since my BPD mother didn't physically beat me to the point where there was no denying what she did. It was all presented to me as "normal" and even though I knew it wasn't, I didn't have a sense of what is "normal".

Until I became a parent, and didn't want to parent like she did and so learned "normal" parenting and was shocked at what I was expected to tolerate growing up.

She also managed to convince me that I was to blame for her feelings. When I left home for college, I believed she'd be much better once I, "the cause" was not "upsetting her".

But I had not seen my mother in full blown BPD mode for decades. When visiting she held it together in front of the grandkids for brief periods. I was not alone with her ever for extended times since before I left for college. My father didn't let on to issues between them.

Dad got sick and I went to "help". He was in the hospital while I was home alone with mother. It felt like being in a psych ward. But the most horrific thing I saw was how she treated my father once he came home to live out the remaining time he had. He was sick, and needed help, and she was abusing him. I reported it to social services, but he denied it. She was able to talk me out of my observations when I was a kid, but not as an adult. I suspected she was mentally ill growing up, but this time, I saw how severely mentally ill she is.

It was a horror show and because of the dynamics in my family, I couldn't help him.

[madeline7]

My Mom acted out while I was in active labor with my first child, and on the way to the hospital with contractions 5 minutes apart, she convinced my Dad to call me and he was her mouth piece and raged at me. Just writing this is giving me anxiety. That was a very long time ago, and I still cannot wrap my head around it. But I do actively remember this from time to time, to keep my boundaries firm, and not to get sucked into her current waif like mode now that she "needs" our help now that Dad is gone. I am not always successful, but it is getting better.

[JNChell]

Hi, Notwendy. I appreciate how you’ve pointed out “normal” and what it really means. That’s a moveable definition, isn’t it? I also appreciate how you’ve brought to light becoming parents ourselves. This stuff has been proven to be multigenerational, and it takes one person to lay it to rest. Kudos to you for doing that. I couldn’t imagine perpetuating abuse on my beautiful son. He’s an innocent child. I don’t know or comprehend how my parents did what they did to me. Especially at such a young age. Our children are safe from that.

I’m sorry that your mom made you responsible for her feelings. I can relate. How is a young child responsible for the feelings of an adult? We were barely responsible for our own feelings. We needed guidance on how to be responsible for our feelings, not what we were dealt. I’m so sorry that you were forced to go through that. I know how it feels.

I imagine how hard it was to witness your mom abuse your dad while he was trying to live out his final days. My mom abused my grandmother. She had Alzheimer’s and had to eventually move in with us. Thinking about the treatment she received from my mom turns my stomach. It’s vivid in my mind and makes me cry. My grandma was that one person in my childhood that kept me from crossing over into darker territory. I’m sorry that you weren’t able to help your father while he was in your mom’s care. I get what it’s like to have to stand by and watch it.

What has passed, is past. We have knowledge now. Pain is attached to it, digging deeper, duty is attached to the pain. Going even deeper, responsibility to prevent this dynamic from moving on to another generation is in our hands. Be extremely proud of yourself for being that person, Notwendy. I know the difficulties that come with breaking the cycle. I know that it is a very personal experience, but it’s a gift to society as well. 

[JNChell]

Hey there, madeline7. I’ve witnessed a woman in labor, but being a man, I’ll never know how it really feels. The physical pain, emotions and fear that are attributed to the experience. I imagine that there is anxiety attached to the pain. Being raged at by your dad at such a sensitive time must have felt unreal. A true What the heck moment. I know that it’s burned into your mind, but it’s over now and you’re safe. It’s a memory and a feeling that needs to be processed and laid to rest. Your parent’s anger, aggression and dysfunction are not your cross to bare anymore. I understand feeling anxiety about things that are behind us. You’re safe from all of that now. Let those feelings wash over you and watch them float away. Thank you for posting. It helps us all.

[miranda50]

When I was a teenager--my mom and I got into a terrible fight over some rebellious behavior.  There was a lot of screaming and I remember telling her I hated her---I still don't  remember all of the comments that were made---but it was very intense and volatile.  My dad was there trying to be mediator and never said a word to me. I remember him trying to calm my mom down and then all of a sudden she went into this full body convulsion/seizure? My dad had to hold her up because she would have fallen to the ground and potentially hurt herself.  Her eyes rolled back in her head and she became extremely rigid from head to toe and the only way I can describe it is it was like a seizure.  She does not have a seizure disorder, was on no medications (that I know of), and never had another episode like this ever again.  It only lasted about a minute and when she regained composure, we were asking her if she was okay and told her what happened----she didn't believe us.  She accused us of "lying on her". The fight continued like nothing happened. We never discussed it and it has never been mentioned since.  Psychogenic seizure?

[Notwendy]

Who knows? This isn't my most horrific memory but when I was a pre-teen my mom took me shopping for clothes. Apparently I was being so awful to her ( this could be over the smallest thing) that she "fainted" in the store- just layedthere on the floor- The salesladies were all over her, making sure she was OK. I think that was the last time she took me clothes shopping. After that, she dropped me off and then picked me up. I wasn't very young,  but I was about 12. I wouldn't have a 12 year old alone at the mall. I might let her walk around with a friend group while I was at the mall too, with specific meet up times ( and cell phones- which they didn't have then) but I recall being on my own.

Having had teens of my own, I know they can aggravate parents. But we need to stay calm and also decide the magnitute of behaviors when deciding on discipline. All I had to do was "talk back" ( as my mother called it) to her and it was the "most horrible thing" to do.

For those of us who have raised teens- we've probably heard "I hate you" at least once- usually when we have said no to something. Teens can get emotional and hormonal. They don't mean it. Our job is to stay calm and not add to the drama. I think that would be difficult for a BPD parent.

[zachira]

I have several horrific experiences and I think the more recent ones as an adult in some ways are more horrific in that I knew exactly what was going on. My most horrific experience with my mother with BPD and NPD was when my brother was dying of cancer and the doctor said he could go anytime and mom was abusing him. The social services got involved. My brother was mom's golden child and she expected him to take care of her when she got old. She made his dying all about her and who was going to take care of her. My brother was kind to her to the very end. Mom ruined his life in so many ways, and he is the one nice sibling I had. She never wanted him to get married and ruined all his relationships. To this very day many many years after both my brother and his ex girlfriend are dead, both dying young, mom frequently goes into a rage and talks about how glad she is that my brother did not marry her. I just walk away as I am too angry about what mom did to my brother and have learned from past experiences that listening to her doesn't help either her or me. I don't think my brother would have gotten cancer and died so young if he had the life he wanted which was to be married and have a family. My sister, who rarely gets it, once said she does did not want to think about how our mother killed my brother. The last few years have been difficult for me, as I no longer love my mother the way I did before my brother got cancer. I was just horrified to see my mother abuse my brother who did everything for her and was in terrible pain on his death bed. I often miss my brother. I have never married. All I have left for immediate family are my mother and two siblings who all have BPD and NPD, and I am the scapegoat.

[JNChell]

Hi, miranda50. I’m sorry that you were provoked like that. If anyone knows the power of provocation, it’s the people here on this board.

I’ve briefly read about psychogenic seizures. Causes related to trauma and sexual abuse. Do you know much about your mom’s childhood? I’m a layperson, but I wonder if this is an intense episode of dissociation. The mind at work. Regardless, it’s interesting. I’ve not read about it here. Maybe you could start a thread on it? It helps to talk.

This is obviously something that is very vivid in your memory. What do you tend to do when this memory shows itself?

[JNChell]

Notwendy, were you scared being in the mall alone at that age? I’m with you on the context of where a 12 year old should be in a mall without a parent by their side. Especially now with cell phones. That’s another topic.

I bet you felt helpless when your mom fainted. Do you think she really did? Just curious on your thoughts. I’m not qualified to diagnose, but my dad was a full blown NPD and would pull stunts. He was the brand that was spoiled as a child.

[JNChell]

zachira. Thanks for joining. It’s sounds like you have some things in common with Notwendy. You know, not particularly here, but I’ve read about people that didn’t really make it out of these situations. Whether it be physically or mentally. Or both. Something that needs to be considered is the fact that the dysfunction that we discuss here is, for the most part, multigenerational. For lack of better words, it’s a trend that has to be stopped. Most of us here have either done that, or are in the process of doing it. Sorry. I’m going off on tangents tonight.

What do you miss about your brother? It sounds like he had a kind heart that was misled and hijacked by a selfish person.

[Tsultan]

Witnessing my father beat the  out of my older brother because my mom provoked him.  She would ride my Dad to discipline and he snapped on day when he did who knows what and went into his room and beat him while he was laying in his bed.  I remember hearing his screams vividly in my mind.  My mom stood there and watched and I was on the stairs frightened and shocked.  He moved out of the house that night and went to Chicago to live with a female Artist friend. She took him under her wing and he lived there for the next several years until he came back home and married his lovely wife.  Eventually, my brother and my Dad had a close r/s.  He forgave my Dad.

Overall horrific experiences are when my mother used to rage by slamming cupboards, doors and swearing like a sailor. She would give me silent treatment throughout my childhood.  I would turn myself inside out trying to make her happy.  Eventually, I was told it wasn't my responsibility to make her happy and it was like a 50 lb bag was lifted off my shoulders.  I was relieved to know it wasn't my job anymore. This is the reason to this day I don't like to be around angry people.  It scares me.  I will also default into trying to make them happy just like I did when I grew up.  This character trait of mine was brought out with my uBPDbf so easily to avoid walking on eggshells.  It was difficult to not feel like I wasn't walking on eggshells around him.   

I used to have this strange emotional bond to my mother.  Kind of like an anxious emotional attachment.  I think that after learning more about the idea that she may have had BPD traits I understand what was happening now.  I don't think I have this obligation toward her anymore.  It's been liberating for me. 

[JNChell]

I guess it’s only fair to share. I have a   load of memories that run through my mind daily. A select few really stand out.

There were 3 instances with a gun. I’m just going to number them and be ok with it.

1. We lived outside of town. I had been grounded for a long time due to my grades. I was perpetually grounded. I had a moped to make it to sports practices and stuff like that. Anyway, my dad was asleep in bed in the middle of the day as was usual. I begged my mom to let me ride the moped to town to see some friends since I’d been stuck in the house for so long. Weeks. She agreed and said get home before your dad wakes up.

Dad was awake when I got home. I was met at the door with a cocked and loaded pistol being jammed into my gut. He was screaming at me. My mom was right there sitting on the couch. I called out for her, but she wouldn’t even look at me. I thought that he was really going to shoot me. I froze and trembled. When my anxiety really kicks in lately, it’s the same trembling. Sometimes I wonder if she set me up. Maybe that’s paranoid thinking, but it seems like she would’ve kept him tired and in bed if she really wanted me to have a few moments of freedom.

2. The screaming and yelling was bad. I don’t remember why, I just remember it being turned on me. I ended up in my room under a blanket. Eventually my dad came in with a pistol and tried to hand it to me. He said something along the lines of doing everyone a favor.

3. Family trip. All family trips were mom and dad fighting. Dad and I were loading the luggage. He and mom were fighting as usual. He and I were at the trunk of the car and he pulled out his pistol and said “this is all I need to do” and stuck it in his mouth. He looked at me, put the gun away and we continued packing the car.

A beating.

My parents were upper-middle class. They belonged to a car club. The club was a sect of a national car community. My parents were sitting members of the governing platform of the organization or what ever it was. They had an event to go to for the better part of the day. They told my sister and I that we weren’t to leave the house. I left. I went to the movies with a friend that lived a block over. I don’t even remember how I had money to pay for the movie, or even which movie it was. My parents were waiting for me when I got home. They were both standing there looking out of the storm door. My friend took off running home. When I got inside, I got it. My mom had one of two paddles that she would use. She unleashed on me. Screaming and hitting me all over my body. When I would start to collapse, she would jerk me up by my arms and start over. Eventually, when she couldn’t jerk me up anymore, she started pounding me in the head with her paddle. Still screaming. My dad eventually pulled her off of me. But he stood there and watched, just like my mom sat there and witnessed him stick a loaded gun in my gut.

I’m sorry if that’s TMI. I’m cutting it off there because I’m getting pissed. I have noticed, though, that the more that I can say things in words to other people, the more I’m able to let go of it little by little.

[Notwendy]

JNChell- did my mother fake it? She was doing a lot of her antics at the time. In retrospect, I think she was having anxiety.  She's also got a lot of NPD traits and likes to be the center of attention.

I found as a mom that kids can get overwhelmed at malls- all the noise, people, and you have to keep an eye on them. I realized also that my mother can't manage the mall on her own. Later, when I was a young adult, she wanted me to shop with her for her. She gets anxious at the mall and needs a lot of attention. When I take her to the mall, it needs to be shopping for her- and helping her select things and doing what she wants to do. This isn't unusual now that she is elderly but she was like this when she was younger too.

[Notwendy]

JNChell- I can't believe your father used a pistol with you. That's a different level of trauma. While my mother could hurt me emotionally, and destroy my belongings, I felt pretty secure that she could not murder me. She's a small built person and doesn't have a gun.

But wow, to think your father might actually shoot you. I can't imagine. Horrible. Also to have both parents physically abusive. I felt safe with my father around. I'm so sorry you didn't even have one safe parent.

IMHO, your father was a sick coward to use a gun to manipulate his family like that.

[cesk]

Hi all. I only recently learned that my dad was uBPD and mom was some kind of enabler with very low self esteem and an alcoholic rager father (maybe also BPD?) 

Dad used to deal with stress by blowing up, and even threatened suicide a few times (over things like trying to pack and leave for a family vacation, or to my little sister for going with friends to a ball game rather than staying home to watch TV with them).

But I think where he really got the most bang for his buck was the shame and blame.  I was not allowed to have strong needs and preferences. I even have  a memory of him raging because I kept spitting out my peas as a toddler. My son has some sensory issues and there are just some foods he can't eat without gagging. Not a big deal- he gets raw not cooked veggies.  But for my dad this was so infuriating. And I was made to feel like there was something so deeply wrong with me, that I will still eat foods I know I don't like rather than risk upsetting someone by refusing it...  I have trouble feeling my feelings much less knowing what I want or need because these were so threatening to my parents. They only seemed to care about me (or at least not verbally abuse me) when I did what they thought I should do. Even asking for a drink of water on a long car trip was treated as unreasonable and would get me screamed at. I remember once sobbing miserably in the back seat because I was so thirsty and could do nothing about it (was under 5).  And was being made to feel even worse for being whiny and demanding- my misery was so clearly my own fault!...  I am learning how to navigate these feelings with a new understanding now. 

[Irish1477]

As usual, my mom engaged my drunk step-father in a full on blow up argument. This time was different for some reason, looking back as an adult I realize she was looking for 'drama' and a viable reason to once again leave my step-father, and did not want it to be 'her fault' as the reason for the split. So, cue the fight at 1am. My step-father could become physically abusive to my mom, we had seen the black eyes, but never the punches thrown or the slaps, and the physical abuse was never turned towards my brother or I. I guess my mom thought we would be her safety net that night.

Instead of having their fight, and then eventually going to bed, my mom got us out of bed at 1am & told us we were leaving. We lived in the country in a trailer park, and since my step-dad was drunkenly disabling the car, we had to walk. I don't know where she was walking us to. I have no idea what her plan was. We were 30 miles from town, passed 5 trailer homes before walking down a country road with no shoulders (just ditches) and no street lights. I was 11, and my brother was 7 and we both knew there were coyotes & mountain lions out there because our step-dad has specifically told us to never go outside at night alone. We were terrified.

We walked for almost an hour before a car suddenly gunned the engine & tried to hit us. My step-father had turned off the headlights & rolled up behind us. We ran into the ditch & he backed up & tried to hit us again by swerving into the ditch. He got out of the car & proceeded to beat my mother. I remember standing on the side of the road with a death grip on my little brother while he screamed my mom's name.

Eventually, he drove off & we ran to the next house we could find, cops were called & somehow my step-father was not arrested. I realize now she didn't press charges, just like she never did. I can only imagine how my brother & I looked, we were covered in mud from being in the ditch, sweating, and were latched onto one another. My uncle drove from 4 hours away to pick us up and we stayed with him for a week. At the end of that week there was a knock on the door, it was my step-dad, and our bags were packed & we had to get in the car & go home with him.

Years later, as an adult, when I could finally talk about that story to other family members, I found out she had never told anyone what had happened. No one knew. All those years I thought no one in the family cared enough to get my brother & I out of that abusive situation, and it was because they didn't know. We were not allowed to talk about it, not to anyone. And when I became an angry teenager, she told everyone I was a horribly ungrateful child who verbally abused her.

I told her as a teen I was suicidal. She grounded me & then went out of town for the weekend to visit my aunt. I firmly believe she was hoping I would kill myself, and left so she wouldn't have to deal with finding my body. I was always the one who made her face truths, and called out the lies. Life would have been easier without me in it, and she would have thrived on the attention my death brought her.

My step-father may have been the one driving that car & swinging fists, but she was his puppeteer, she used every bruise as a form of manipulation & control over him, and us. I feel sorry for her, want to protect her, and hate her all at the same time.  

[Harri]

How is everyone doing after sharing some of their experiences?  What sorts of things are you all doing to help you cope with the memories and associated feelings?  What are those associated feelings?

[JNChell]

Hi, Notwendy. The point that you made about children being uncomfortable in a mall environment makes sense, and I hadn’t thought about it from that perspective. pwBPD aren’t emotionally mature. Arrested development. Thanks for bringing this to light in this thread.

What is it like when you take her to the mall as a grown woman, as compared to when you were 12?

Thanks for your words. It’s nice to have someplace to drop stuff like this  and to hear other’s accounts. I don’t talk about it much. A select few in my life know. It sounds so unbelievable and it’s hard to talk about to folks that have had nurtured childhoods and adolescents. Sometimes it just needs to come out until it doesn’t anymore.

[Tsultan]

Harri, Talking about them makes them lose their power.  Our secrets keep us sick.  I am grateful to be able to have the platform like this board to be able to let them go.  These are the kinds of things you just don't have the opportunity to talk about with others.  I do have a sponsor though that I can share anything with.   

JNChell, That is a pretty traumatic thing to have gone through. I am sorry that you had to endure that as little child.  I am glad you were able to talk about it here.  Thanks for being brave enough to share.

[alphabeta]

Perhaps my most horrific experience with my uBPD mother was when I had come over after work to eat dinner at her house.

During the meal, she peppered me with questions as to why I was still with my wife, and grew more and more agitated during the questioning.  I told that I wanted the questions to stop, as I was feeling uncomfortable, and she said she was only doing it for my own good, as I needed someone to talk to.  I told her that I had spoken with friends, and she said that no friend could ever be as good as her to me.

I then said I was going to go home, and she told me that if I left, I would never see her again.  My mistake was to stay, because she continued asking me questions about my wife, screaming, and crying.  She eventually broke down and collapsed to the floor while crying.  I told that it was late, and she needed to get some sleep, so I walked her to her bedroom.

She got on her bed and suddenly fell off and onto the floor.  The next thing that happened really frightened me.  She lay there staring up at the ceiling without responding to me or even blinking.  Initially I thought she had died.  However, she was still breathing.  I dialed emergency services, and about ten minutes later they arrived.  She eventually spoke with the emergency service personnel, and later blamed me for calling them.

She blamed me for going to work the next day - because I was being so insensitive - and also for driving her to have this "panic attack." 

Not once did she recognize the raging, crying, and emotional abuse she unleashed at me, and later didn't understand why I didn't want to discuss topics like my wife with her.  This last topic (my abstention of wanting to discuss certain topics with her) led her to threaten suicide on multiple occasions soon thereafter.

[JNChell]

Hey there, cesk. Thanks for joining the thread. I’m sorry that you had to experience those things and that the memories are still with you. The memories will always be lurking, but there are ways to be ok when they show up.

There’s a possibility that your parents were threatened by you feeling your own feelings and having needs because that would eventually lead to you becoming independent, leaving the household and leaving them with feelings that they could no longer project onto you. Did your parent’s relationship decline after the nest was empty?

[JNChell]

Irish1477, in my time here, just over a year, this is one of the most terrifying accounts that I’ve ever read. I read it at work and became tearful, so thanks for that.  Anyway, as I read it, I pictured it. Every detail that you shared.

I remember standing on the side of the road with a death grip on my little brother while he screamed my mom's name.

I imagine that that is one sound among many that are burned into your mind. The sound of the car. Hell, the stuff that happened before that night. The thing is, you’re safe now. How often do you tell yourself that?

Tough question. How do you feel about your mom not protecting you? No holds barred. Answer any way you like.

[JNChell]

Hello, alphabeta. Glad you chimed in. Maybe she is in fear of abandonment. She’s threatened by your wife. What was the dynamic between you and your mother when you were a child?

Most of what you’ve described sounds like manipulation which has been going on for a very long time?

I didn't want to discuss topics like my wife with her.  This last topic (my abstention of wanting to discuss certain topics with her) led her to threaten suicide on multiple occasions soon thereafter

Suicidal threats should always be taken seriously. Have you ever called 911 when she gets that low? Read the above. You tried setting a boundary, she threatened suicide. How often does she threaten that when YOU get a little too far outside of HER comfort zone?

[JNChell]

Harri, that’s a good question. What are we doing with our feelings?

[HappyChappy]

I found out she had never told anyone what had happened. All those years I thought no one in the family cared enough
My step-father may have been the one driving that car & swinging fists, but she was his puppeteer, she used every bruise as a form of manipulation & control over him, and us...love and hate her at the same time.  

Irish1477 I totally get the love and hate you have for your  BPD. Well done on surviving all that and passing the open windows.  My NPD was the violent one, but like your mom my BPD had the ultimate control. She kicked off the fights and goaded my NPD into laying into me. I have several stories where my bro would have happily seen me dead. In fact he once explained how Marilyn Monroe committed suicide, the then took me to the medicine cabinet, put the pills in my hand. I was around 10 years old and I took the whole bottle (as advised), I had wanted it to work, but I threw up. Didn't tell anyone until recently. My bro has Sadistic Personality disorder, so he actually gets kicks out of other people's pain.

In terms of not reporting, back then the Police (in my country) would term that sort of thing “a domestic” as a way of avoiding engaging.  Even now, it pays to get an early report in, so you can establish a pattern and the Police are more likely to come out. A lawyer told me that and it worked on my bro.

[HappyChappy]

alphabeta that must have been a very harrowing ordeal. Do you think your BPD was using escalation ? In that you didn’t trigger or make her center stage, so she escalated her behaviour ?

[Notwendy]

JNChell- taking my mother to the mall is like taking a small child to the mall. For any outing with a small child, one needs to be in the mindset that it's about them. You need to plan for snacks and bathroom breaks, and keep an eye on them so they don't wander off.

I don't think much about it now as an adult because that's just how she is. She loves to go out and do things and always suggests it, but it's also difficult in the sense that it's like a day out with a toddler.

Hard to imagine she was supposedly in charge of me. I wouldn't leave my kids with her when they were little. I didn't think she'd deliberately harm them but that she was not a responsible caregiver for them.

[Irish1477]

Irish1477, in my time here, just over a year, this is one of the most terrifying accounts that I’ve ever read. I read it at work and became tearful, so thanks for that.  Anyway, as I read it, I pictured it. Every detail that you shared.

I remember standing on the side of the road with a death grip on my little brother while he screamed my mom's name.

I imagine that that is one sound among many that are burned into your mind. The sound of the car. Hell, the stuff that happened before that night. The thing is, you’re safe now. How often do you tell yourself that?

Tough question. How do you feel about your mom not protecting you? No holds barred. Answer any way you like.

I harbor more resentment towards my mom than I do towards my step-father. He was so drunk he couldn't remember his actions the next day. Lots of soul searching & therapy has given me bits of compassion for him knowing that every beer he consumed was due to his own demons of a horribly abusive childhood, and living with my mom who used that pain to her advantage. I still hold him accountable for his actions, I have not seen nor spoken to him in 16 years, since my son was 6 months old, because someone like that will never be allowed around my children, but I have compassion for his own struggles.

My mom, on the other hand, was not an alcoholic & never had a substance abuse problem I could blame. She knowingly, time after time, put us back into these dangerous situations. She forced us to remain quiet, and when we stood up for ourselves, she labeled us as angry & ungrateful. She has led a smear campaign behind our backs for our entire lives.

As an adult I recently drove that stretch of road my mom forced us to walk that night. I wanted to see if maybe my memory was wrong, and there was a gas station close by she was trying to get us to, or if it was actually closer to town & we had a reasonable chance of walking there. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that she had a legitimate plan for making us leave that night, and not just attention seeking & dragging us into a hopeless situation. Even over 25 years later that area is extremely secluded, and the closest store, which is new, is 25 miles away. When she led us out of that trailer park & past multiple homes w/o stopping to call for help, she doomed us to walking 25-30 miles in pitch black darkness with dangerous animals around. Knowing that she had set off a time bomb, and he would come looking for us. I wonder now how he was able to sneak up on us in the car, why wasn't she looking for him? There was no reason my brother & I should ever have been involved that night.

I am working on exposure therapy because the sound of a car revving up triggers a body response in me, and my heart races, my breathing picks up, and my anxiety goes through the roof. My hope is to go out to that same road at 1am, walk it hand in hand with my husband safely in the dark (I cannot be outside alone at night due to panic), and then have him rev up our car while I close my eyes & practice calming my body. Exposure therapy is helping me work up to this, for now I picture it in the office with my eyes closed. Baby steps.

[JNChell]

Irish1477, you are legitimate in placing the majority of the blame on your mother. Yeah, the stepdad was a prick, but who allowed him in? Time and time again? No charges pressed.

I’m assuming that you have Irish blood by your screen name. A lot of resiliencey comes with that.

I’m glad to know that you’re in therapy. I am as well. I’ll say this, the therapy that I’m in wouldn’t be working without this community.

You know, you gave one story. I know how bad your childhood was. You recognize that your mom didn’t protect you. That’s a lot to sit with.

The important thing to keep at the front of your mind is that you’re here in the present when those bad memories and triggers come up.