#tw: emotional/psychological abuse

[monarch-of-weird-girlboy-nation]

So like, I think that Jupiter wanted to kill jason as a child.

Eliminate the threat, this little child, before he grows up to eventually dethrone him. But Jason was needed for the quest, so he just settled with physical and psychological abuse instead :)

And when the quest was over, Jason was free to kill anyway, and I think Jason knew it.

He thought he could outrun it, he'd go to Camp Half Blood and attend like normal school. He wouldn't be a threat.

Bur he was from his birth and he died. He knew he was going to die.

[furiousgoldfish]

This is going to sound incoherent to those who haven't been told over and over they're monsters or demons or animals as children, but I need to write it down.

It was often I would be told that I was some kind of evil creature and not a child, as a justification for abusing me, and I wouldn't have any kind of response to that, because how do you combat that? How do you respond to a parent or a family member calling you a snake and a swine and satan? I would get frozen in doubt and start to internalize, that I must be non-human, I must be evil and fundamentally wrong and demonic in some way, because I couldn't find any argument against it. After all, these people were saying it so surely, so filled with rage and righteous justice, that I was non-human, that it was not only okay but necessary to hurt me, and it's all I've ever known. And I still get flashbacks to those moments when I would be told stuff like 'you should have been strangled to death the second you were born', and I freeze. It hurts. I can't reason with hatred like that.

It's only today my brain finally found some counter arguments to it.

Was I born to a human being, or to an animal? If I had been an animal, I would have been born to an animal mother. And she wouldn't hate me like you do. Even if I was a baby snake, there would have been no need to torture me, I would have been normal and natural as a snake. But, even as a child, I had arms and legs, it was obvious I wasn't a snake.

If I as a demon, how would I be born into a family of humans? Wouldn't it be shown in the color of my eyes, or my skin, or my actions? Have I been displaying anything but normal child behaviour? How would anyone be able to tell I was a demon, if I was born to humans, acted like a normal human child, and had never done acts of irreparable evil and sadism? What made me a demon then?

If there was nothing but evil in me, why was I in so much fear and pain all the time? Is that how evil-doers feel? Why was I too scared to do even normal, mundane things that other kids fearlessly did? Why was nobody afraid of me? Why did people feel comfortable hurting me, cornering me and attacking me, if I was so dangerous and malicious?

It was painfully obvious that I was a human child from the start. Calling a human child demonic is not normal, it's not well-intentioned, it's not for the child's own good. It's cruel and vicious. And it wasn't based on anything inside of me. You saw a child you wanted to hurt repeatedly, and making the child believe they're not human was the simplest way for you to get away with it. Why did you need to hurt the child repeatedly? Even if you believed it was something else, an animal or an evil creature, why did it give you pleasure to hurt it over and over again? Why would you intentionally corner a small creature inside of your home and cause pain to it? Did it give you pleasure to see fear and tears? Did you enjoy it so much you just had to keep doing it?

All small humans are the same, they have small little limbs, they're squishy, they're sensitive, they get spooked and scared easily, they like playing brave to make themselves feel stronger. There's no reason to corner and torture one, and call them evil for that. I was the same. I was acting brave but I was small, and soft, with little limbs, easily spooked, easily brought to tears. What was in you to want to break me? What was it worth to you to do it?

You could have picked any child for it, and it wouldn't have made any difference. I was just what was in the house.

[treluna4]

Fan fic saved my life

TW: emotional abuse, coercion, control, intimidation, homelessness, psychological abuse, DV.

Today, I (through an attorney) served my abuser with a protection order. I entered the apartment I’ve been banned from for the last four years, took back what was rightfully mine, and left.

I’m free.

My life is mine again.

I never thought I would have to do something like this. Now that I have, I’ve come to realize that I’ve learned a lot of really hard life lessons from this fucked up experience. Here are a few of them:

What I’ve learned as a survivor of DV:

DV doesn’t just happen between family members or romantic partners. Your abuser can be a lifelong friend. Someone you have a shared history with. Someone who has helped you, supported you, loved you in the past.

Your abuser can be a disabled person.

Your abuser can have a chronic illness.

Your abuser can be financially dependent on you.

No abuser starts out that way. There’s a shift that happens over time, so gradually that it’s hard to know it’s happening until it’s too late.

My abuser gaslit the fuck out of me. She labeled me a monster, a villain, a sociopath, an abalist, because I didn’t empathize with her enough. No matter what I did, it was never enough for her. I was never enough.

And I believed her.

She convinced me that there was something deeply, inherently wrong with me. Something I must fix and change and grow from in order to be a good person again.

She convinced me she alone could fix those monstrous parts of me.

She convinced me that everyone else could see those parts too. That all my friends and family thought there was something deeply wrong with me. They just never said anything. Because I was an angry, violent person and they were all too scared to say anything. She reminded me, constantly, of all the ways which I was a failure.

Her relentless judgment and criticism changed me. It changed who I was and how I interacted with the world. I was scared of my own shadow. Scared of anyone in a position of authority. Terrified of ever doing anything wrong.

Trapped as I was in my circumstances, I became bitter and angry. Gone was the bright, happy person I’d been my entire life. It was wrong to be so happy, she said. No one is that happy all the time. It was time to grow the fuck up. Be an adult. And I agreed.

Caught up in my new mentality, I said things, did things, thought things that I will deeply regret for years to come. I was cold to people who didn’t deserve it. Rude for reasons I didn’t fully understand. I was trying to grow, just like she said. Trying to change. Convinced as I was that she was right. This is what it meant to be an adult. After all, no one is that happy all the time.

My newfound bitterness only proved her point. Of course I was a terrible person who never knew how to love people. Here’s the evidence! Obviously, what I thought was love had only ever been manipulation. She was right, after all. She was always right. I’d never truly loved anyone or anything.

I really was a monster.

It got to a point where I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I didn’t even want to look at my reflection. I didn’t want to face the broken shell of a person I’d become. I didn’t want to see what the rest of the world had always seen.

I stopped my spiritual practices. I didn’t want to face that uncomfortable truth that I was a failure. I was bad and wrong and terrible. So I hid the best parts of myself, to keep them away from the cruel person I really was.

I downplayed my queerness. I wore muted clothes and became a muted person. I fled from anything that might draw attention, anything that would warrant a comment. After all, she couldn’t attack something that no longer existed.

She made me question everything. Every single aspect of my life. She convinced me everything I’d ever known was a lie. I’d never actually done anything with a pure heart or good intentions. Everything I’ve ever done was a manipulation. A way to get everyone around me to do what I wanted them to. I was incapable of true, genuine love. What I felt was not love. It was a lie. Who I was, was nothing but a lie.

She told me I was a bad caregiver, and that I only ever made tough situations worse. She told me many times that I was emotionally unstable and should never be allowed to work with vulnerable populations. As someone who spent her life working with children and caring for others, this devastated me.

Despite all of this, she said she loved me. That she cared about me. She was simply telling me all of this for my own good, because it was her job to fix me. I had to stay with her, I had to continue to support her, until I could prove to her that I was mentally sound. Then and only then would she let me go. After all, she said, It wouldn’t be safe for her to let someone like me out in the world. It was her job to make sure I was healed first, so that I wouldn’t hurt anyone else the way I hurt her. That’s why I couldn’t leave her. I had to stay. I had to help her get better, since it was my fault she was ill in the first place. If I had been more emotionally stable, we wouldn’t have been in this situation and she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. So the only way out (for both of us) was for me to fundamentally change.

She constantly turned her abuse around on me. Whatever terrible things she said to me were justified. After all, she didn’t say anything worse to me than I once said to her. And since I obviously never cared about her, why should she care about me now? She was just matching my energy. Playing my game. I was actually the one controlling things here, and any misfortune was my fault, really. Any of my accomplishments were solely because of her, and all the work she put into making me a better person over the course of our decade + long friendship.

And I believed her. Always. Why wouldn't I? She helped me all those times before, right? Whenever I was at my lowest, she was the person I’d always turned to. She was always right back then, why should this time be any different? She was a good person. Kind. Brilliant. Not like anyone else is ever known. Surely that had to count for something.

Right?

Turns out, it’s not that simple. Just because someone helped you out before doesn’t mean they’re helping you out now.

If I could go back seven years, this is what I’d tell my 30-year-old self; fresh from a break-up. Lost. Scared. Vulnerable.

Write it down. Whatever she says, whatever she does, write it all down. You might not want to face it. You might not want to see how bad it really is, but write it down anyway.

A person who feels they have no control over their own life can find comfort in controlling yours.

No one ever anticipates finding themself in an abusive situation. There’s no planning for it or preparing for it. Even if you know the signs (and I knew all the signs), it can still happen to you.

If you don’t feel comfortable speaking up for yourself, if you can’t somehow say “no” to someone, it doesn’t mean you are a weak person, or that you’re doing anything wrong. It means you don’t feel safe around them.

Anything done “For your own good” rarely is.

You cannot be bullied into feeling empathy for someone. But that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of feeling empathy.

You are allowed to leave. You are not obligated to stay in a toxic situation, regardless of your past. And you are not a heartless monster for leaving someone, even if they are sick. There is nothing wrong with putting your health and safety above all else. That doesn’t make you selfish. That doesn’t make you a monster.

You’re allowed to be a full, entire person. You’re allowed to make mistakes. That doesn't mean you’re incompetent, or manipulative, or fucking ablist. It means you’re a person. A human being. And regardless of whatever mistakes you’ve made in the past, you don’t deserve to be treated this way.

We warn children about the dangers of keeping a secret. That doesn’t just apply to children. Do not keep her secrets. Do not keep her silence.

Isolation comes in many forms and each is toxic.

Do not isolate yourself. Talk to the people in your life. Let them in. Even if you think what you’re going through is not a big deal, even if you don’t wanna burden them. Even if you have trouble saying the words out loud. (Especially if you have trouble saying it out loud) Tell someone. Let your friends in. Let them help you.

You are not a burden.

Luckily for me, I have two incredible friends who helped me get out. Two people my abuser never knew about, because she told me to stay off of all social media. She told me fan fiction and fan spaces were bad for my mental health. It was childish for a grown woman to still be writing fan fic. Or acting in plays. Or listening to musicals. Or doing any of the many things that brought me so much joy, in my life before her.

Thank god I didn’t listen. At least, not for long.

Because two of my pocket friends that I met ON THIS VERY HELL SITE are the reason I’m free today.

@celeritas2997 and @statueinthestone . None of this would have happened without you two. I love you both so much.

Cee taught me what it looks like to support someone who is not ready to leave. When I finally worked up the nerve to tell her what was going on, she listened. She didn’t judge. Instead, she gave me the resources I needed to get out and encouraged me to seek help, without ever once shaming me for not being ready.

And it took me a very long time to be ready. But she never once demeaned me for it. She waited SO patiently, and listened whenever I shared new details of my abuse with her. She continued to suggest I get help, and when I chickened out again and again, she was still there. She never gave up on me. When I finally took her advice and reached out to the resources she suggested and started the process of leaving my abuser, she celebrated with me. She never once said “I told you so”.

Thank god I finally listened to her.

Jesi. Fuck. Jesi helped me in so many fucking ways, but none more so than this: she taught me that not everyone shows love the same way, and that’s okay. Just because the way I show love is different from what others expect or demand from me, it is in no way less valid. Thr way I love is valid. The way I love is enough.

I am enough.

Beyond the emotional lessons, this experience taught me a whole host of other things as well. For almost four years now, I’ve been homeless. I’ve been living in my car while my abuser lived in my apartment. I paid for her rent, food, medications, clothes, household items, streaming service subscriptions. (Streaming services I was forbidden to use, by the by. Because. You know. Mental health. I didn’t listen to this either. 😂)

And it was no big deal! It made sense, really, to do all this for her. After all, she was sick. And she was my best friend. She had already sacrificed so much for me. She was a good person who’d been dealt a shitty hand. She’d NEVER take advantage of me.

Right?

And anyway, I wasn’t really homeless. I CHOSE to live in my car. It was the right thing to do. That apartment was so tiny and she was so, so sick. And I’d always wanted to live a nomad lifestyle! I got bored living in apartments. That���s why I moved around so much in my life before her. Living in my car just made sense. It’s what I wanted.

Right?

Being homeless has taught me so much, not just about myself, but i e picked up a lot of car living life hacks. Here are a few of them:

You can work two jobs and still be homeless.

Like abuse, homelessness can look like many things. It’s not just that one stereotypical image that pops in your brain when you hear the word. To this day, my employers have no idea I’m homeless, and I’ve been working for them for two years.

Battery powered anything is a godsend.

Public restrooms are an absolute necessity for all of society. I will forever and always be grateful for them, especially for public park restrooms that are open all year round.

There are certain places where sleeping in a car is legal, and many places where it’s not. Familiarize yourself with your local laws. Be safe.

There are at least 20 different meals you can cobble together from the prepared food section at any grocery store with about $10 and a little creativity.

Quarantining with Covid sucks. Quarantining for 5 straight days in a car sucks absolute dickhole. (That said, doordash will deliver directly to your car and leave the bag on the hood, if you ask nicely)

Wet wipe showers are 100% a real thing and are a good solution in a pinch, but NOTHING beats a hot shower. Absolutely nothing. (I can’t wait to have a bathtub again.)

Stuffing 4-6 Hot Hand packets in the bottom of a thick sleeping bag will go a long way to keeping you warm on subzero nights.

For curtains: crack open a window, stick the edge of a sheet through, and close the window again. Repeat as necessary.

For sleeping, if possible: remove the headrest from the front passenger seat and lower it completely until it reaches the back seat for an impromptu L-shaped bed.

Try not to sleep in the same position every night. Your body will thank you later.

Always keep at least one window open a crack, even in the winter. Condensation leads to mold.

If you take a second job working nights, know that it is fucking impossible to sleep in a car on a hot fucking summer day when you can only open the window a fucking crack (for the sake of safety). You will wake up in the afternoon gross, smelly and drenched in sweat.

Gym memberships are an absolute must.

Beyond that, I’ve also learned the importance of setting boundaries, and that not only is it okay to say “no” it’s essential. I’ve learned you’re not selfish for wanting to leave a toxic situation. I’ve learned that freedom can be taken from you, but that you can take it back. And above all, I now know one thing with absolute certainty:

You cannot be broken.

You. Cannot. Be. Broken.

No matter what happens to you, no matter how they try, they will NEVER break you.

Abuse can lead you to forget, for a while, who you are, and you might need to lock up certain parts of yourself temporarily for the sake of your own survival.

But one day.

One day.

You will hit the point where you have had enough. And on that day you’ll find that she was always there. With you. The whole time. The person you truly are was with you all along. She never left. She’s simply been waiting for you to need her again.

And on that day, that glorious day when you truly wake up, your entire life will change. Even if you can’t leave yet, when you realize the full weight of what is happening to you, when you realize the truth, you let the hope back in. And every step you take toward your goal from there on out, every step toward your freedom, will be all the sweeter for it.

You will doubt yourself, of course. Even after you choose to leave, even as you prepare and plan, you will doubt yourself.

She’ll be so angry if I go. So hurt. Can I really do that to her? She’s sick. She needs me. She doesn’t have anyone else. Can I really hurt her? I’ve hurt her so much already.

What if it’s not actually as bad as I think? Maybe I’m just being dramatic. Maybe I should try harder. Be better. Maybe I can save us.

She’ll come after me if I leave. She said so. She’s going to make me pay for what I’ve done to her. What if she makes good on her threats? What if she makes my life hell?

What if she was right?

What if she was right?

Can I really do this?

It’s natural to second guess yourself, especially on the “good” days. The days after a big blow up. When it seems like she’s moved on and conversations between you are normal again. Or as normal as they’ll ever be. Especially in those moments, you’re going to doubt yourself. That’s okay.

Doubt yourself. Do it anyway.

And in those particularly low moments, reach out to the people who truly love you and try to believe their reassurances, even when that feels impossible. Seeking help from your friends is not manipulation. There’s nothing wrong with needing guidance or validation. Especially not now.

I’m free. I’m finally free and I feel elated and giddy…and also scared. She told me multiple times in no uncertain terms that she was going to spend the rest of her life getting back at me for all the pain I caused her (and that was before I left).

But I’m also, surprisingly, sad. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to get to the point where I would have to press charges against my former best friend in order to escape her. I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her. This is her absolute worst nightmare and I take no pleasure in making that happen.

But I have no regrets. I am a fucking human being with a good heart, free will, and some semblance of self respect. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I have the right to protect myself and she’s made it clear, this is the only way I can do that. It’s sad, yes, but it had to happen. And after all, she has been threatening to do the same thing to me for years!

For at least two years now, she’s been saying that if I didn’t start giving a shit about her, she was going to have me arrested for abuse of a disabled person. She was going to have me placed under a conservatorship, or admitted to a psychiatric facility due to my mental and emotional instability. She said she was going to tell everyone I once loved what a terrible person I am, spread my secrets far and wide, among so many other threats, all intended to keep me in line.

It was an effective strategy. For a while, at least.

Leaving is painful. And scary. And sad. And quite possibly the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

But it was necessary. And it was worth it. Oh my god it was SO fucking worth it!! I’m free. And my freedom is worth fighting for.

There’s a lot I still don’t know. I’m going to need a lot of time and therapy to feel like myself again, but in spite of all this, as I look at the boxes of my belongings I managed to rescue from the apartment I haven’t been allowed to enter in four years, I feel like I won.

I won.

I got my life back.

As hard as this was, never have I felt more hope for the future as I do right now. There is so much I want to do! So much I CAN do now! I have incredible friends I want to make things for. I have a beautiful cat (Vayda) I need to meet one day.

I’m going to get that haircut I always wanted, but never got for fear of ridicule (too queer). I’m going to get another tattoo, I’m going to travel, and soon, I’m going to have my own place again. For the first time in almost a decade. A small apartment just for me. A sanctuary.

I’m going to have a real bed again. And a kitchen. I’m going to take bubble baths and bake cookies and keep a toothbrush in an actual toothbrush holder and clothes in a real dresser instead of in a plastic tub in the trunk of my car. I’m going to have an herb garden and hang a bird feeder outside my window.

Hopefully one day I’ll even get a cat myself. A pet I can pour all my love into because I have love to give. I have so much love to give and the freedom to truly give it now.

My life is bright and full of possibilities again and none of that, not one single shred of the happiness I feel now would have been possible without fan fiction.

Fan fic gave me a community, when I was forced into isolation.

Fan fic gave me refuge on the long days when I couldn’t escape her relentless criticism.

Fan fic kept me warm when my windows were crusted over with frost.

Fan fic gave me lovely comments from lovely readers that kept me going. Words that told me maybe I wasn’t so worthless after all.

Fan fic has been my home, my one remaining source of joy, my tiny act of rebellion.

I’ve spent a lot of time already reminding myself of what is true and what isn’t. There’s a lot there left to sift through. But the greatest truth of my life is, and I’m not being hyperbolic when I say this:

Fan fiction saved my life.

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Childhood neglect and abandonment may show up in different ways in us. We may realize we find it hard to watch movies in which caregivers show up for their child in ways we couldn't experience; we try to overwork for others and show how good and worthy and helpful we are so that they won't leave us (we feel unlovable or unworthy in first place); we have troubles setting boundaries, even s3xual ones, cause we fear disappointing the other (we second guess our own feelings and voice); we overshare very soon in our relationships about our tough experiences (and rarely exaggerate them too) in order to have the other feel sorry about what happened to us and care for us; we label ourselves as too needy, too much, too damaged cause we believe nobody will ever love us, and what many people experience in their romantic life will never happen to us; to cope with our pain, we may start fantasizing about being saved from danger or just be surrounded by people that care for us the way we want them to.

We may end up believing these past painful experiences are the only possible life for us and become disconnected and emotionally unstable, even if the truth is that we're worthy of healthy relationships and love, and what we had to go through wasn't our fault. We're so much more than what we were made to believe, we're deserving of people staying and showing up for us (and we should allow ourselves to experience that too, without trying to -unwillingly- manipulate others into doing that).

(source - morganptherapy on instagram)

[4spooniesupport]

This goes out to ab*se survivors...

Sure, you can talk to therapists, partners, friends, family,etc, but when you talk to people who have BEEN there, it is extremely comforting knowing that they completely and totally understand what you are feeling and they won't judge for any feelings of guilt, shame, bitterness, fear, even feelings of missing the person you thought you loved.

I get it.. 💯 please don't be afraid to reach out.

It's ok, I get it. Your feelings are valid.

[greenevergreens]

Narcissistic abuse is real, and don't let ANYONE try to convince you that the hell you went through didn't happen and no matter what DO NOT let ANYONE convince you that YOU are in the wrong for talking about the abuse you endured and giving that abuse the appropriate name of narcissistic abuse.

[currymanganese]

The Bear season 2 episode 6 is a cleaver to the chest. Maximum psychic and emotional damage. Yikes. Natalie and Carmen are actually surprisingly well adjusted people all things considered, Natalie especially. Made me actually re-evaluate my opinions concerning them. Donna Berzatto / Uncle Lee is a typhoon of dysfunction and Michael broke against it plus his own addictions and sank, but Natalie and Carm are still fighting and eking out an existence, wow. Thank God Natalie has Pete, the Berzattos need all the help they can get.

[compassionatereminders]

The other day was "narc abuse awareness day" and I had to see so much BS and ableism against us (those w NPD) and shit about how we "can't be hurt" (perpetuates abuse against us) calling us "inhuman" and literally giving advice on how to abuse us and it's just ?? Disgusting to see people talk about how it's fine to abuse us cos we can't get hurt and are just so evil :/ this is literally a disorder caused by trauma in the vast majority of cases!!! I've been personally accused of lying about my abuse because of my NPD and in fact had my abuse justified BECAUSE of my NPD by my abuser so it's just :/ fucked up

No like I HATE the "narcissistic abuse" awareness because there are zero abusive behaviors which are actually exclusive to people with clinical NPD. Like you can SO EASILY talk about emotional abuse and psychological abuse and guilt tripping and love bombing and gaslighting without acting like only people with a certain mental illness are ever guilty of such behaviors.

[aftgficrec]

hi babes!!! I'm looking for this fic that I want to read again but just can't find!!!!! basically, (from what i remember) Neil is a shadow traveller who travels in the shadow realm ever since Mary died to escape his father!! if I'm not wrong he's found after he breaks into the foxhole trying to find medicine to heal himself and for some reason he gets bound to Andrew!! also, he's very friendly with some hellhounds!!

if anyone can help me i would be very very very grateful!!!!!

Hi!  This is a fic we’ve rec’ed a long time ago here, and we’re happy to rec it again.  Hope you enjoy your reread! - S

Heartlines by Nekojita [Rated E, 291539 words, complete, 2017]

The Fae king and queens have gone away, closing the knowes behind them and abandoning their offspring to the mortal world. As the Fae have spread far and wide, their bloodlines thinning if not vanishing forever as they flee from mortal persecution... two Fae have found a way to reopen the knowes - Kayleigh Day and Tetsuji Moriyama. The Fae regroup once more, the balance of power shifted amongst them, and 'changelings' appear now and then in the mortal population.

Andrew Doe is one of those changelings, a young child suffering in the foster system, shunned by his peers for some reason and hearing voices in his head.

Alex - the latest name gifted to him by a charm - is on the run along with his mother from his father, using their talents as shadow walkers to slide between worlds and stay one step ahead of the powerful Fae. Except even that is not enough anymore. Except that's not Alex's only talent.

*******

An urban fantasy where I throw Fae, necromancy and magic at TFC characters, pretty much!

tw: canon-typical violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: non-consensual drug use, tw: rape/non-con, tw: emotional/psychological abuse, tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse

[pixiedoll2]

I'm a little lamb

A sacrificial lamb to their happiness

They keep dragging me to the alter

Im destined to get hurt over and over again

So they can wear the "perfect family " title

While the little lamb bleeds out in the background

[furiousgoldfish]

I have this reoccurring problem where I feel like I've found a friend in someone, and then some time later, this person does something to hurt me, and rather than apologizing, they snap at me, act like I'm awful and a nuisance to them, and generally get very angry with me. First it makes me feel guilty, and I go over everything I did to see how I deserved this, but then I realize I didn't do anything, they just hurt me and snapped at me, made me feel like it's my fault. And then I get scared that this person could do that, because I can't even imagine doing that to anyone, it's so deeply unethical and shitty, but people do it like it's their second nature. Once I realize that this person scares me, I know I have to get distance and move away from the friendship if I don't want to live a very anxious and triggering life, so I do that. And thus I have no friends anymore.

Now for me, this occurred easily over 30 or 40 times with different people, to the point where I've started to wonder if I maybe draw this behaviour out of them. Because I will usually pick people who I believe would never do that, who seem to be kind, understanding, gentle, funny, easy going, I go for that almost every time, and still they snap at me. I'm wondering if it's because everyone in their mind thinks there's one person somewhere they're allowed to snap at, and since I'm very mild tempered, easy going and understanding, it feels to them like snapping at me couldn’t possibly have any consequences?  Again, I don't understand this, I would rather never snap at any person in my life.

My problem is that sometimes, I end up very bonded to these people, and I start building hope that maybe I could be normal, have friends, function in society, just because it feels for a bit like I'm accepted, I'm allowed to socialize and chat and joke around and tell things to someone, and this means the world to me. I've lived in an environment where I was not allowed any of that. So when these specific people snap at me, my hopes crumble to the ground, and I'm back into the place where I don't feel like I'm a person anymore. Even worse, I get triggered back into my childhood, where my parents screamed at me telling me how disgusting I am, how nobody will ever want anything to do with me, and how I'm the worst thing to ever exist on the planet. That's how I end up feeling when anyone turns against me, or abandons me. I keep it to myself, because I don't want the triggers affecting the friendship. But they affect me deeply.

That feeling of someone I care about finding me disgusting and awful and poisonous gives me so much pain I want to curl up and disappear. I want to not exist anymore. I would rather be alone forever than experience more of that. And that's exactly what I do; I curl up in my own little corner and don't socialize out of terror that more of this will happen, because it does happen so often and I still never see it coming.

I know on some deeply logical level, that people are snapping at me because it's easier for them to do that than to face that they've done something wrong, that they've hurt our friendships and acted badly towards me; they need it to be my fault so they'd feel better about themselves. Taking it out on me is just an easy route because I have zero vindication in me and probably won't ever snap back or get angry in return; I'll just withdraw. I'm always too worried I've genuinely done something wrong when it happens, I'll apologize a thousand times, I'll spend a while trying to figure out what's the truth, and then before I even think about getting angry, I'll be swallowed by pain and sorrow that this happened to me again.

Has anyone found any ways to have people not snap at you when they hurt you? What kind of change in attitude would achieve this? Do I just have bad friend-picking skills? Is this just a normal part of life that other people can handle because being snapped on doesn't make them suicidal? Is it considered normal that your friend will sometimes snap at you when they hurt you? Is it not a glaring red flag? In some cases people will not only snap but also gaslight me about what happened, and I know gaslighting is way over the line. Has this been happening to others? Please give me any opinions or experiences of this, especially if you found a way to deal with it.

[ghostoflillith]

It is not your responsibility:

To take on someone elses healing

To process someone's trauma for them

To monitor and manage someone else's emotions

To teach people how to love

To try and get people to appreciate you

To "keep the peace"

To spend all your energy trying to keep someone happy

To try and prevent someone from cheating

To teach people how to apologize & take accountability

To try and get others to change toxic behaviors

To accept responsibility for pain you didn't cause

To try and get them to heal pain they have caused to others

To do all the emotional labor in your relationships and friendships

To accept less than you deserve

To blame yourself when people treat you poorly

To teach them emotional intelligence

To stay quiet when you are hurting

To lie and hide things for them

To protect people who wouldn't do the same for you

To help someone else grow

To teach people how to find healthy coping mechanisms that work for them

To allow yourself to be taken for granted for the sake of "love"

To believe them when they have been caught lying before

To teach people self love

To make excuses, explanations or justifications for someone else

To allow yourself to be manipulated because you want to believe them

To control other people

To awaken them

To change their beliefs about themselves and the world around them

To convince them why they should want to better themselves

To pull them out of the hole they've dug for themselves

To try to repair relationships you didn't break

To stay where you feel you no longer belong

To make yourself small to keep other's comfortable

It IS our responsibility to heal OURSELVES, and in doing so, inspiring other's to do the same.

No matter how many people have told you that you are a "healer," it is NOT your responsibility to heal those who don't want to be healed, aren't ready for it, or arent appreciative of you.

Some may never take this path, and that is their choice to make.

Protect your energy.

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Reading the kind of messages a guy sent a girl before abusing her and killing her, makes me realize how manipulative he was with her, playing with her kindness, guilt/codependent issues and lack of healthy boundaries. She wanted their story to be over while he couldn't accept it.

It also throws me back to a guy I met once and that showed slightly similar manipulative behaviours with me. I was lucky enough to become aware of that in time and get away, build up a wall and leave him by putting myself first and not letting him control me. It breaks me she couldn't, nor could ask for help or talk about this with others who could have helped the guy while keeping a distance from him.

Please if you find yourself in a toxic and potentially dangerous situation like this, where someone tries to make you think they may do something bad and only you can save them (or even they try to control your every move and/or have you say/behave in certain ways to make them feel good), talk with someone who can help you and ask for help for this person too by contacting their family/friends. Remember it's not you they need, but to feel the power that comes from the control they have on you and the attention you keep giving them as you feel responsible for them (in reality you're not!! You're only responsible for yourself, you cannot save them from their own demons but you have to save yourself). It could be anyone else. So save yourself first and foremost, and if you can try to save the next person (this habit has no gender anyway) too by talking about this with their closest ones or a school psychologist or anyone really.

Please take care of you.

[traumatizedjaguar]

what I don't think people understand is that abusers aren't a rare find. I had a lot of kids get involved in bullying me and some of those emotional abusers went as far as SA and most of them don't care to acknowledge they did this like it must be kept some secret now that were all adults, and so many got involved because it was like the new trending thing to bully me. when Amanda Todd got bullied - 15 kids showed up to beat her up or cheer on the people who were verbally abusing her in the halls because it was seen as a good thing to bully Amanda Todd, those kids all said "you deserve this" to her. the thing with bullying is its a mob mentality, kids are easily persuaded to get involved especially when the main abusers can present fabricated evidence or witnesses; bullies show up for bullies.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

it’s so wild how there’s still people who say c!dream wasn’t obsessed with c!tommy like. like you do realise that’s fundamentally just saying c!dream isn’t abusive with extra steps right. like abuse isn’t just a Bad Person Thing that people do for no reason it is in fact part of a mindset. abuse comes from entitlement and possessiveness like abusers feel like they're owed whatever they want from their victims whenever they want it and any time they’re not being actively controlled is theft of something that rightfully belongs to them. that’s like the fundamental thing that Makes an abuser. and that counts as obsession in my fucking books. like either you’re saying c!dream isn’t an abuser in a convoluted way or you’re arguing he did it for literally no reason which is like. that is worse. you know that causing pain onto people when you believe they don’t deserve it and know you’re causing severe psychological damage is in fact even more one note evil villain than the psychology of abusers that exists In Real Life right.

[kiarabanetmi]

“Poison” and how it speaks to all types of abuse

Hi there! I’m posting again. This is a small analysis/commentary on how the song Poison from Hazbin Hotel describes not just sexual and drug abuse, but other types of abuse as well. If you haven’t seen Hazbin Hotel or haven’t heard the song, I’ve put a link to the song below. Even if you don’t watch the show the song is amazing and I highly recommend it. Note: this is not the official episode music video, which is triggering to people, this is the before episode release version.

I also made another post earlier on my opinions on episode 4 of Hazbin Hotel. Give it a read!

Ok, so I’m going to cover some very specific lines and moments in the song. The majority of my analysis focuses on verse two and the the final verse.

This song at its core is about abuse. Angel Dust’s type of abuse is a combination of largely S/A along with physical and verbal Abuse by his pimp Valentino. But if you analyze these lyrics, this song speaks to all types of abuse and abuse victims and/or survivors, except for a few lines that are highly specific depending on situations. I’m going to focus on how this song can speak to domestic abuse victims, myself specifically. If you do not feel comfortable hearing about the following triggers then please scroll on and have a good day. You have been warned.

So context before I get into this: I was raised with a mentally ill parent as well as victim of my other parent’s former Fiance who also verbally and emotionally abused but the two of us. My mentally ill parent suffers from untreated unconventional borderline personality disorder, known as BPD. My other parent’s ex Fiance suffers from grandiose narcissistic personality disorder, known as NPD. I am no longer in contact with the ex Fiance and have no plans to see them ever again. However, I am still suffering from my parent with BPD, specifically over the holiday. We had a major fight because they believe my other parent is truly the abuser in their reality and by taking their side, I was starting to abuse them as well. This has caused me to (at least temporarily) cut off the unhealthy parent and live with the other one full time. And the unhealthy parent is a master at verbal, emotional and psychological manipulation.

Now getting onto the actual song:

Whenever I listen to the back half of verse 1 into the first chorus, I really relate to the lyrics through personal experience. It starts at the following line:

“I shoulda known that this would happen,

“I shoulda known it when I looked into your red-hot eyes

“Spewin’ all your red hot lies”

Now let’s go back to the lyrics and how it relates to me. As part of their BPD, this is especially true, and true for those who are involved with family/spouses/loved ones who are verbally and emotionally abusive. I believe any person who has different under an abuser will relate to this simple like. At some point we know the pattern, we know the signs for when we “fucked up” as it were. And we know at some point, consciously or unconsciously, that our abuser is lying.

“What’s the worst part of this hell?

“I can only blame myself.”

This line can be relatable depending on the type abuse you suffer from. In Angel’s case, he signed his soul away (literally) to his abuser. In a way I do that with my abuser every time I choose to go see them and enter that unhealthy environment. The problem for me personally is that BPD does have patterns but I find myself surprised and shocked by them. Know that now I am doing research to try and learn how to properly deal with family members with BPD, but that personality disorder does not excuse the abuse I suffer from t I’ll his parent. Mental illness is NOT an excuse for inflicting abuse, even if it’s as complex or rarely treated like BPD. But every time I go back into that environment I can only blame myself for entering that hell willingly again. Because despite the pain I know they will inflict upon me at some point, I still love my abuser. I imagine this is a similar mindset to what other victims of domestic abuse feel as well. We walk back to our abusers, usually choosing to because we still love our abuser and hope they’ll change and this time they’re telling the truth.

But that’s usually not the case.

“Cause I know you’re poison,

“You’re feeding me poison

“Addicted to this feeling I can’t help but swallow up your poison

“I made my choice and

“Every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow.”

In my situation I relate to this line INCREDIBLY hard. It’s not just my unstable parent who is abusive. That side of my family has a long cycle of generational abuse that I am trying to break away from. But because I grew up in that situation, despite now knowing how bad and unhealthy it is, it’s what I’m used to. And unfortunately, I am used to or addicted to that chaos. For the past few months I have lived with my healthier parent and during that time, I have developed a non-chaotic, healthy lifestyle. Growing up everything was constantly shifting and changing based on the needs/wants of my unhealthy parent, since I was predominantly in their custody in my youth. Because of this, I grew up used to that chaos, considering it normal and fine, until I was shown another alternative by my other parent when they filed for custody and finally got rid of their own abusive fiancé. But because of the way I grew up, I became used to the chaos, and every time I go back to visit my abusive parent, I run the risk of falling under their spell. And unfortunately, more often than not, I do fall for it. And when I do fall for it, I fall into survival mode once again. This means that in a sense I’m “living like there’s no tomorrow”, like Angel. I don’t think about the consequences of anything other than escalating the situation, of making sure I make it out of there without some sort of fight or confrontation.

“I got so good at being untrue,

“I got so good at telling you what you want to hear,

“I disassociate disappear”

When I enter this survival mode, as I’m sure many other abuse victims and survivors do, I tend to lose myself for a time. I become someone else in order to be who my abuser wants me to be. In my personal case, I end up regressing to a smaller helpless child (not literally, but my body language does, as an unhealthy form of self soothing, being untrue and becoming who they want me to be: someone they control. I tell them what they want to hear, usually that they are right or that their pain is valid and nothing is their fault because they are the victim (which in my parent’s case of BPD is a reality that they ACTUALLY believe). Half the time when my abuser parent is tearing into me or trying to make me feel guilty or into he the bad guy (with depressingly frequent success rates), I tend to enter a sort of humble stage. I disassociate until it’s my turn to speak. I disappear for a while until it’s safe to come back out and say or do something. And when I do disassociate it’s awful. I lose small chunks of time. This has not happened yet outside of these instances of interaction with my abuser, thank goodness, but it is still dangerous to disassociate too often. I’m sure survivors of all types of abuse have disassociated at least once in their time with their abuser.

“So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.”

Since I grew up so used to this behavior and pattern, it is like fighting my own nature to try to stand up and not fall for the lies. It’s so hard because I still love my abuser but because of their illness and their refusal to acknowledge it or seek real treatment this pattern is unending. It’s hard to resist swallowing down the poison they force in my face and flood me with. In my case, unlike Angel, my form of poison is in a pool, slowly raising towards my mouth, and I struggle not to get it not. And I imaging that’s what most other victims of abuse also feel like. That physical, emotional, sexual, psychological abuse is a poison that if left unchecked or stayed near to long will eventually kill us, either minor abuser’s action or our own.(Note, at the end of this post I have posted links the contact information of various services to help people in these situations, at least for those in the United States). Angel’s situation is also like that too, but he’s also drugged and forced to take poison by Valentino.

“My story’s going to end with me dead from your poison.”

This line hit me hardest out of everything in the song. During the latest fight with my parent, they tore into me overall and so brutally that for the first time in my life, I truly contemplated suicide as a better alternative. The verbal and mental poison they fed me for so long overwhelmed me and I felt myself wanting to die from it. I am not suicidal now, but it was an overwhelming feeling of pain, hopelessness, feeling trapped with no escape (at one point literally when I threatened to go drinking and they blocked the door, which is a tricky situation). If I hadn’t gotten out of then not already had the support system in place that I spend years setting up and learning to build, I may not be making this post right now. And there’s thousands of others like me who are still stuck in that pool of poison, but have already choked too much and succumbed to it. Never forget them.

“Poison, I’m sick of the poison,

“Im filling up my glass but it’s always hollow

“Full of poison, I’m sick of the poison,

“Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.”

And like Angel here, I’m sick of the poison as well, and every other abuse victim of any type can relate to this. At some point nothing helps anymore when you are stuck in the situation long enough. There’s no escape, and everything is hollow. There was a time when I was like this as well. My abuser had isolated me from nearly everyone else in my life save for my healthy parent, and it nearly broke me. But I found a reason to live for tomorrow at the time.

And I hope you can too. If you are reading this and relate to my story, or you heard this song and related to it in some way, then please know you are not alone. This song is not just a bop, it’s a real look at the kind of a severely abused victim that we don’t always see.

If you or your loved one are being by abused in some way, you are not alone. Here are some resources if you are in danger and need to call for help:

The Suicide Hotline: 988

The National Domestic Abuse Hotline:

The National Sexual Assault Hotline:

Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Parents