#escaping abusive family

[imagine-mokey]

It really is nice to be a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man or her family. Something that was robbed of me for many many many years.

Was absolutely degrading being forced into poverty and having to live off the help of others, especially when they were often the people who put me in the situation in the first place.

This is why I reject gratitude. Because gratitude has been used as a method to manipulate and control me.

I should be grateful to all those people who hindered my education because they pay my bills for me so that I can still survive and live in misery at their will.

Yeah kiss my ass.

I'm not grateful. And to those of you who think I should develop a form of gratitude for say a higher power or something like that, no. It's literally the same kind of abuse they just simply pattern in a more spiritual ideology.

I'm sure this way of thinking has brought happiness and humbleness to many people, And for some people they need that. However my circumstances are vastly different and I realized for me gratitude is not necessary in fact it is my enemy..

So I exist I can appreciate and I can enjoy but I don't have to thank a single fucking person or thing for what I have.

So I have no gratitude instead I have my freedom. It is far greater than anything ever given to me.

[ari-the-rockstar]

Hey guys is there any place with super cheap housing for people who've never had a creditcard/learned to drive (parent abuse) in Dayton, Ohio? I'm thinking of moving there soon

people who can't pass credit checks still need housing. people who don't have credit at all still need housing. people who can't pass criminal background checks still need housing. people who have been evicted before still need housing. people with past unpaid rent still need housing. people who can't take out loans still need housing. people who can't pay off their mountains of debt still need housing. people who don't or can't work still deserve housing. housing is not an "investment". housing is not the act of "borrowing" property from someone else.

housing is necessary for human survival, no matter how poor, disabled, addicted, insane, or bad with money someone is. every single person on this planet requires housing. everyone. money does not belong in the affairs of housing. housing does not wait for money to come. housing is a human right, that EVERY human deserves, regardless of how much money they make, if any.

[furiousgoldfish]

When I was a little kid, I asked my mother 'What does a child need to survive in a desert?'. She wouldn't give me a straight answer, so I had to pull it out of her bit by bit. Would a child live if they had fruit? 'That's not enough', she said. Would it work if the child had milk? 'Maybe'. I kept asking what else, and then she put the dots together, and figured out why I was asking. 'Children can't survive without their mother', she told me curtly. I frowned, not liking this response. 'But, if they had fruit and milk?' I insisted. 'No. Child can't survive without a mother. Don't even think about it.'

But, I was thinking about it, and she knew it. She knew I was trying to find a way to escape the house we were living in. I was 6, maybe 7 at the time. She repeated over and over to me, you would die outside this house. Nobody else would take you in, there's no place for you anywhere else. You would only be a burden.

I didn't like that. I didn't like the idea of being a burden anywhere. But, I supposed she was right, other people didn't need a stray kid.

In my quest of not being a burden, I wanted to learn how to work. In the house I lived in, there were countless chores to be done, but somehow I was always stuck with the ones that required no knowledge or skill. Put the logs over there, clean, carry this over there, sweep, scrub, throw, wash, dig, gather, relocate, hold, lift, put down, bury, shut up, and don't ask questions. I wouldn't get any answers even if I did ask, why am I doing this, whats it for? I wasn't to know. I was kept blind, following orders, up to myself to figure out what was this a part of.

When I'd be ordered to do something I didn't know how, I would be told I 'should have learned it by watching others do it', but I was never free to watch while others worked. In fact, if anyone in the house was doing anything, and I was sitting or lying down, I would be screamed at for 'just watching others work and doing nothing'.

Reaching adulthood, I really wanted to know about cooking, but mother always chased me out of the kitchen if she was making something, or she would chore me with 'peeling the vegetables', which would then take all of my attention. I tried to sneak into the kitchen and learn by myself, but she chased me away as soon as she'd catch me, telling me off for 'wasting resources'. But, as she noticed my inclination, she decided to inform me, in a very clear manner, that I would never in my life know how to cook. You see, I was clumsy, slow, stupid, and would always only mess it up and waste precious ingredients. It was far above my abilities to learn how to cook. She gave me a clove of garlic to cut, and I couldn't do it well on my first try. She told me it was a proof that I was 'no good'. Then she gave me an onion to cut, and yelled at me for 'taking too long'. Now it was proven twice over. I couldn't cook. Everything would be ruined because I was taking too long to cut the vegetables. Also, I didn't know where food was even stored in the kitchen. She would never show me. (The food was stored in boxes in the basement. I would find out years later.)

With a heavy heart, I gave up on learning how to cook, and resigned myself to feeling forever guilty for 'eating their food', which was something my family regularly held over my head. You know, after I helped digging, working the soil, sowing, planting, weeding and spraying, it was still their land, and their food, and I 'had no right to it'. They were careful never to show me how to actually grow food, but just kept me busy with menial tasks that were never explained to me.

I was convinced my mother was a good person, because she usually wouldn't forbid me to eat, and if she wanted me to do a task, she would tell me in a humane way. For example 'Can you do x?'. The other family members had a more crude way, something like 'Why are you waiting to be told, do I have to spell out everything to you??' so her polite manner had completely won me over, I would have done anything for my sickly, poor, kind and generous mother, who was so worried for my troubled self, who couldn't learn how to do anything, or survive outside the house.

Even though my mother repeated through the years, that I would never be able to do anything, and also berated me if I ever tried to learn a new skill because 'it was worthless and wouldn't earn me any money', I would still sometimes gather a bit of momentum and courage, and figure hey, I should try to get a job. It would take months to gather that kind of confidence. And one such time, I announced my intentions, I'm going to look for a job! My mother laughed without looking at me. 'Who would hire you? You can't do anything.' Poof. That was my balloon of confidence, popping and then deflating into a tiny bulb. I didn't think she had any reason to lie to me. She knew me all my life. If she was confident that I can't do anything... then it had to be true. Otherwise why would she say that?

The rest of the family, of course, agreed. My grandmother, she had fantastic stories to share with me about how quickly I would be kidnapped, robbed, murdered, tortured, sold into slavery, you know all that good stuff that happens to every person outside their parents house. My father, who inherited massive amounts of land, 2 houses, illegally got his hands on a third, earned a very formidable salary, and constantly had me working for free for him, told me that it was in fact, impossible for a person to survive out there without inheritance. I frowned because I didn't agree with this, and I asked, what about the people who get a job and move into the city? They were living just from their wages. He shook his head and said that it may look like that, but they're all just living from their family's resources. I was old enough to not believe him. It's him who couldn't live without his inheritance, because he's an idiot, I thought.

So, I finally got to earn some money online. It was slow, and very tiny amount, I was freelancing and there was no consistent income, but my enthusiasm on being able to earn anything, was strong. After all, I had earned absolutely nothing working for my family for forever, and this was mine. I remember securing a big project and rushing to reassure my mother, to tell her that I was in fact, good for something, and she didn't have to worry anymore, I was going to make something of myself.

'You will never get another project again.' Her face was dead serious. 'You were lucky once. Don't count on this happening again'. I was speechless. Self doubt swallowed me whole. Was this only one-time occurrence? Was I stupid to believe it would happen again? I despaired. She was my mother, and she was older than me, and she knew the world better than I did. She wouldn't say this for no reason. Could she be right?

She brought it up to the rest of the family, and they all had things to say about it. 'Online work isn't real. The money doesn't even exist. You'll never see it. Show us where is this money. You can't, can you? And even if it does exist, it will all get stolen from you'.

Leaving me wrapped in my survival panic attack, they went on with their day, satisfied that they put me back in my place (which was an ongoing panic attack). I eventually recovered, and continued to work on projects. I was approached and told I would fail constantly, but even then, what could I do but work with my anxiety levels up to the roof and wait to fail? I had to try.

I didn't believe I would make it, because my mother's words 'you'll die, you'll die' were on repeat in my head, but I realized I would die in that house anyway, so I ran away from home. My mother was worried about me; she was in fact, so worried she called every person who knew me, all of friends, relatives, their kids, and told them about how badly worried she was for me, and how I needed to come back home. These people, well they were all worried too you see, so they had to call me, to tell me that I'm breaking my mother's heart, that I don't know how it feels to have a child and not know if their child is okay, apparently she was crying every time it rained because she thought I might be outside in the rain.

My guilt was activated, but I knew just what to do to resolve this situation. I responded to my mother's call, and she told me too, that she was dying from worry, so I said, listen! Listen to what I have! And I went around the apartment, and I listed all of the groceries I had bought and stored. I listed everything out to her, and then explained how to make multiple meals, I offered proof to her that I had already, in this short time, learned how to cook, and I was doing fine. I was sure she'd be so relieved to know that her child had food.

In my mind we were continuing the conversation we had when I was six. I have milk and fruit now mommy. You said I might survive if I have that.

'Okay, we KNOW you can do everything yourself--' She interrupted me angrily, unwilling to listen to my ongoing list of resources and skills. I froze. '--but you need to think about what you're doing to us and come back home!'

I hung up. Unbelieving. Two things I've been told in that sentence, and I had a hard time believing either. She- they- KNEW I could do everything myself. Since when? For how long? How could she possibly say this, after telling me my whole life, not only that I didn't know anything, but was too stupid to even learn? She knew I was capable the entire time? She knew I'd do just fine? And, she was angry about it. Hearing the list of resources and skills I had, it made her livid. After crying to all these people, and convincing me she was dying out of worry, she wasn't worried even one little bit. It was all fake. The entire time. She could either tell I was capable the entire time, or.. she never cared enough to even tell. It didn't matter. It only mattered that she convinced me that I can't survive. So I wouldn't run. So I would stay in that house, and so she could watch her violent husband, and violent mother in law beat me and call me animal names. While blocking my only possible exit.

Later I found out she changed her story. She was now telling people that I was now 'rich but so selfish I would not give any of my money to her'. It was almost funny. Her perspective of me rapidly shifted from 'incapable idiot who cannot survive' to 'selfish rich snob who won't give money'.

It stung. I had spent my life trying to protect her. Even after running, all I could think was how badly I wanted to take her away from that violent place, how much I wanted happiness for her. She watched me dying in that house and blocked my exit. She threw me back into the hands of violence and cheered them on as they broke me. She watched a kid being broken and told that kid they could not live, except if they stay and continue being broken, over and over again. I got jealous of all of the mothers who helped their kids escape. And of all the kids whose mothers escaped, taking them with. Keeping them safe. Why wasn't I worth keeping safe? But I can't look back in that way. That's not it. There was nobody to keep me safe. Nobody was my mother. Nobody was my parent.

My six year old self reached their goal. What does a child need to survive in a desert? Some fruit. And some milk. And some other groceries also don't hurt. And definitely not a mother like this one.

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

fiona gallagher // the angry man in the house

[cheecats]

White Shark & the other Divers actually

[texanmarcusdavenport]

I think about Chase's line in Three Minus Bree "I'll go talk to her" all the time. It reveals so much about AB&C's dynamic that goes otherwise unsaid.

Bree obviously wants to connect with Donald as daughter and father. She resents being seen as a tool or a weapon. This is where a lot of their conflict (& Bree's character in general) comes from.

Meanwhile, Chase is more of a "golden child". He connects with Donald more because they're both geniuses & because Chase takes to his role as a bionic hero much better/more enthusiastically than the other two. For Donald, he's the easier child. Chase also likes to think of himself as more rational/logical than his siblings (though that's not really true lol), he probably would say that Bree's outburst was childish although secretly he agrees with a lot of what she said.

And Adam... eugh. We never really see him get mad at Donald or take his side, he mostly just goes along with his siblings. Do you think that's because he was raised a household where tensions were high and he wanted to keep things peaceful? We know that Adam is very observant, especially when it comes to his siblings, and he's very protective over them as well. I can't help but feel like he plays up his silliness because he wants to keep them happy in the only way he can...

How often do you think this sort of thing happened? Bree lashing out & Chase talking her down, Adam watching awkwardly. Do you think it happened often? Do you think Bree resents them for it? Do you think they resent her? Do you think

[i-am-trans-gwender]

I need advice

I'm 19 years old and I need to escape my transphobic parents. A friend wants me to live with him, but there have been issues stopping this.

I have no car, and even if he drove me there, my parents would know where I went.

Even if they didn't find me, my parents control my bank account, medical care, and phone (luckily they can't put the Verizon Smart Family app on my computer.)

They also use my autism as a reason to prevent me from leaving. They claim I can't legally leave because of this. I've heard some people say that it sounds like BS but I don't know.

I need to transition, but I can't do that while I'm stuck with my parents. I'm willing to do almost anything to leave them.

[wh1stled0wn]

Me watching the "I take confort in knowing you will always be there to take care of me" thiking about how many people were forced to spend their whole life taking care/supporting abusive/horrible parents/husbands/ect simply because they had no other choice.

[uncanny-tranny]

People who compare transition to self harm or use real people they know who've self-harmed as a metaphorical comparison to transitioning aren't making the gotcha they think they're making - they're just showing that they don't have the compassion or maturity to engage with either topic at even a conversational level.

And, frankly, it's infuriating as a person who does see those who self-harm as my equal who doesn't need to be used as a cudgel against another group of often vulnerable people.

[arggghhhsstuff]

heyy i would like more of how thalia's time as a tree affected her please. was she asleep? was she conscious at all? did she feel trapped, or at peace? could she tell when someone was approaching? did it change her?? chat did it change her. does she miss it??? she is not the same girl she once was, that is much clear. but why, exactly. what changed. i have so many questions

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Tik tok link

ITS LITERALLY THAT AND I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE

UTMV fandom stop romanticizing trafficking, kidnapping, what amounts to basically mind control, and abuse just because it’s your “hot” little blorbo that does it challenge. Failed continuously over and over.

I think the worst part about it is when they use killers masochism to justify the abuse with “well he likes it!”

Pretty soon I predict some people in the fandom may tip to the other side of the scale and make killer start hating nightmare so much and sexualize that too.

Just let bro do one simple thing and breathe without constantly sexualizing him. like would you like it if you start sharing how much you hate your abuser and have violent thoughts about revenge only for someone to claim you want to fuck and have sexual tension with your abuser.

[good-to-drive]

I'm sorry but if your celebrity bromance isn't strong enough to make small children support gay marriage then I don't wanna hear about it

[leupagus]

You know what I thought of at 3 am last night (this morning) and haven't stopped thinking about

is that Aziraphale and Crowley drew up all that power for Gabriel's protection — one that was so powerful all the demons and angels desperate to find him couldn't do it — and they never thought to use that same miracle for themselves.

[curioscurio]

crying a lot more lately.

[homehauntsyou]

genuinely sam's face in 05x16 when he goes "I can't control this stuff" kills me every fucking time. he's so resigned. he's teary-eyed but it doesn't matter because dean is more upset. he's reliving the night he was disowned. he's reliving the night he really thought he was free.

and he's talking about the fact that he can’t control the memories in heaven but he's also talking about his existence. he can't control the fact that he has powers in the first place, can't control the fact that they're destined to be on either side of the apocalypse, can't control the fact that evil literally chose him.

and he’s trying to make himself look small, with hunched shoulders and hands in his pockets like. AUGH. this got out of hand.

[harpoonsnotspoons]

Was only going to draw one thing today but Coraline AU Strilondes called to me