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There's a monster in my house.  It hides and no one else can see it.  I can see it though, I know the monster better than anyone.  And one day, it's going to eat me and no one will know.

There will be a funeral, flowers and crocodile tears - maybe even real ones after the monster erases all the memories.  But the monster did it.

I have lived in fear of the monster as long as I can remember.  It only comes out when we're alone and there's nowhere to run or hide.  Sometimes it peeks out at me, letting me know that I will not get away, even in public.  The monster is patient.  The monster is clever. The monster is invisible to everyone but me.

They wanted a whole houseful of kids.  But miscarriages and TDY and Dad in the jungles of Vietnam happened, and the precious Only Son, the One True Boy got sick as a baby - and everyone forgot me - except the monster.

The monster never forgot how I was always there, so quiet, so gullible, so easy to scare. How my eyes would get so big and my mouth would drop open in a shocked little O of surprise every time.  The monster never forgot.  How I would cry until I couldn't anymore - but I could endure.  

Sometimes the monster would pretend to be nice - share secrets I should never know, teaching how to gorge on sweets and carbs in the dark with the doors closed.  But it always was the same in the end - the eyes would get that gleam, the teeth extend and sharpen, the razor sharp tongue that would destroy everything valuable inside me, the little arms that were too tired and impatient to hold but always had the strength to hit and hit and hit.

It was the monster that pushed me into the wall. The monster that let go of the belt buckle. The monster that pulled out my hair. Hit me with a litany of household objects - belts, spoons, hairbrushes, macrame plant holders, brooms, flyswatters, a bag of frozen chicken - whatever was handy. It was the monster that stabbed me with a pencil when I couldn't remember 8x7 is 56. It was the monster that mocked my mind and soul and made sure I was crushed inside.

You're putting on airs.
You think you're better than everyone else.
You're stupid.
You're a BITCH.
You're selfish.
You should never have been born.

Except who would the monster play with if I hadn't been born?  Who else could be blamed?  Not the Only Son, the Sacred Grandson and heir to the Smith name.  Who could be confided in and threatened into silence? To know how unpleasant a sex life could be. To blame for the gorging and the purging. To blame for loneliness. To blame for rape. To watch out for the Only Son as he picked fights and broke things while the monster slept.  Who else did the monster have to play with if not me?

As I got older the games got more complicated, there were the Tests. The monster would come out and do whatever it wanted, the Tests came after. You have to prove you're okay - that you're not mad about the monster. Clean something. Do something Nice. Give away a treasure. Be Kind to someone. I had to demonstrate that I was worthy of the monster giving me a break. It was never enough - the monster always came back whether I did the Test or not.

But I kept hoping.  I was smart and good and I didn't want to make the monster unhappy. I was quiet. I was studious. I befriended the lost and the hated and the poor and the lonely - until I was punished and the monster decided no more friends. I cleaned up after the pets I didn't want but was "given" because pets teach responsibility. I spent years on restriction without music, without contact other than school, only books and playing cards as my companions. I organised and kept my space spotless, the better to keep the monster appeased - but it did no good.  The monster was always there waiting for me to slip up.

And I ran.  I ran from the monster as far as I could, across the country, to other states and cities and in communities where the monster could not go.  But in the end, I brought the monster with me and it ate me alive.  It killed my dreams and mocked me as I failed again and again and again. Everything the monster said was true - I was worthless. I failed. But I endured so well.

I would get up and go forward again and again. I would smile and nod and try to get by. I would struggle and build a life - and the monster would make sure I would tear it all down - because I was a fool and I kept in touch with the monster.  Still hoping - still believing One Day the monster would decide it was Enough and I could be free.  The monster will never let me go.

I am a toy of the monster. We exist as a mutant combination of toxicity. And now that I am back in the den of the monster the cycle continues - I was close to breaking free - so I broke down instead.  I didn't make it to the ocean, where the monster can't follow with electrons or phone calls. But I endure so prettily, don't you think?

There's a monster in my house.  It hides and no one else can see it.  I can see it though, I know the monster better than anyone.  And one day, it's going to eat me until I'm dead and no one will know. Not today, probably not tomorrow - I endure so well. But every day I stay here the monster is right outside the door, waiting for another bite.

There will be a funeral, flowers and crocodile tears - maybe even real ones after the monster erases all the memories.  Remember me.  The monster did it.

Originally posted to Mortifyd on Sat Mar 16, 2013 at 08:14 PM PDT.

Also republished by Community Spotlight.

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Comment Preferences

  •  I am so sorry Mortifyd. You have written such a (18+ / 0-)

    personal and haunting tale. I wish I could do or say something to help.

    •  sometimes you just have to write (17+ / 0-)

      so I write.  All that matters is if it's good writing or not really.  I survived the latest visitation of the monster, and the latest Test - so things are quiet at the moment.

      But there is no Doctor, no Captain Jack and Torchwood team to send the monster back for me - I will have to learn how to do it myself.

      So I write.

      And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

      by Mortifyd on Sat Mar 16, 2013 at 09:01:16 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  Good for you Mortifyd, be strong (12+ / 0-)

        How big is your personal carbon footprint?

        by ban nock on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 07:34:19 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

      •  It is good writing! (13+ / 0-)

        You are definitely a talented writer, and your observations about living with disability are valuable and should reach a wider audience than this blog.

        The spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right. -- Judge Learned Hand, May 21, 1944

        by ybruti on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 08:04:12 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

      •  Is the monster...I presume a parent?--still (2+ / 0-)
        Recommended by:
        ColoTim, alice kleeman

        actually there?

        Or just the effects of the monster?

        If either is true, may I suggest something?

        Imagine yourself as the adult you are now, somehow looking back at a scene from your childhood.  You can see the monster, you can see the child that was you. But you are not the child--you are an adult, watching the scene happen.  

        Look at the monster. Are you as big as her/him?  The monster is towering over the child, but s/h is not as big as you. You are an adult.  And the monster is older. Not as all-powerful as you remember.

        What is the monster doing to the child? This is a little child. This child should not be treated this way. No one--no one--should treat a child this way. It is cruel and it is wrong. Would you do nothing if you saw another child being treated this way by an adult you didn't know?

        Now step into the scene. As an adult human being. Say, "Hey!"

        The monster looks around. The monster sees an adult. Not a terrified, powerless child. An adult.

        And you say, "Get away from that child. Before I treat you like you treat it."

        The monster tries to bluster. The monster tries to threaten. And you say, "Get away from that child.  NOW!"

        And the monster, who is revealed as a flawed, pitiful human being, a bully who can only scare children, or grown children conditioned to fear it, leaves.

        Then put your arms around that child. And tell it, "You are a good child. You don't deserve to be treated the way you've been treated No child does."

        The child may protest. The child may cry and say "But I'm stupid, I'm lazy, I'm ugly."

        And you say, "No. You are just unlucky. For some reason, the monster grew up ugly and mean. Maybe because it too had a monster in it's life. But that doesn't make it right to scare and hurt you. You are a good little kid. And I will never let the monster hurt you again."

        Do this until the child believes you.

        And the next time the monster shows up in real life, let it meet the grownup that you now are. Who is without guilt. Who can break the conditioning. And tell the monster, "I am not what you say I am. You will treat me  decently... with respect. Or you will leave."

        And if this means that you can no longer love the monster, then this is what must happen. You can pity it, but you should never be a hostage to a monster's claims....whether through love, obedience, conditioning, fear or hate.  

        Freedom has two enemies: Those who want to control everyone around them...and those who feel no need to control themselves.

        by Sirenus on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:19:18 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

        •  she's sitting on the couch at the moment (10+ / 0-)

          in the other room - she's very real.  And currently, I live in her house, completely financially dependent on her and my still largely mentally absent father - he has 12+ cats and FOX news to focus on.  Child rearing and such is woman's work.

          I'm a 43 year old autistic among other issues (BPD, possible mild schizophrenia) and while I have a fairly good control of my physical symptoms in public (flapping, rocking, eye contact, not vocalizing my aural hallucination responses) and an excellent vocabulary - once she begins to change - her lower jaw juts out, her eyes darken with anger - I'm unable to speak or respond as an adult.  I'm literally reduced to a child about to shit myself in fear in a matter of seconds and my brain goes all fuzzy.  I am medicated and take it faithfully, even when I "feel good." There are limits to what medication and years of therapy can do, though I appreciate the sentiment of your help.

          She's afraid to physically hit me now - at 4'11 vs 5'8 with a martial arts background - she would lose.  But she doesn't have to hit me.  She just has to change and I'm toast.

          There was a "monster incident" on Thursday afternoon in the guise of a "family meeting" - which was delayed for 30 minutes as I was literally in the toilet in fear - and a Test - clean the kitchen while we are dining out - on Friday night.  It's only been in the last 12 hours I have been rational enough to actually review and understand what happened.  I've been in my room, mostly asleep trying to physically recover from Thursday's terror.

          My entire childhood was spent with the monster. Absent father due to work, ill brother - it was me and the monster every day all the time I wasn't at school.  

          My inner child knows far better than I do the monster will not ever change.  And women in her family live easily and independently into their 80s, she's only in her 60s now.  I do pity her. I understand intellectually why she is like this.

          Doesn't make a damn bit of difference when the monster catches me unawares and unable to escape.  There is no lock on my door - a lock is not permitted.  Even after the main meltdown, they took turns coming in my room - the only place I can escape to - to continue to tear me down as I was curled up in a ball on the bed, crying and exhausted.

          The only way I will be able to leave this behind - again - is if I magically recover (not likely, given the diagnoses, personal poverty and living in a republican state with limited access to treatment) or my SSDI claim is approved.  With SSDI "income" I can go home again to the Northwest and my independent life in my own home and never contact them again.

          And maybe if I outlive her - maybe then I won't be tormented by the monster anymore.

          And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

          by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 07:18:18 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

          •  I hope it works out for you. (1+ / 0-)
            Recommended by:
            Mortifyd

            It sounds, sadly, that you live in a world of monsters.

            Maybe someday you can get away. And never look back.

            But keep telling that child that you were that it is not what the monsters say it is.

            Because you are NOT.

            Freedom has two enemies: Those who want to control everyone around them...and those who feel no need to control themselves.

            by Sirenus on Tue Mar 19, 2013 at 10:32:36 AM PDT

            [ Parent ]

  •  please believe me (19+ / 0-)

    when I say it is possible to find people who simply love you for who you are, rather than some twisted concept of who you're 'supposed to be'.

    Please don't give up and let them hurt you more- I was about at that point one night, and you told me simple things about the fish and the breeze and how lovely the sunshine was. It made a great deal of difference to me on that dark night.

    The sun will rise tomorrow, and I truly hope that it will give you at least a little bit of hope of your own.

    Anyone who scoffs at happiness needs to take their soul back to the factory and demand a better one. -driftglass

    by postmodernista on Sat Mar 16, 2013 at 11:05:06 PM PDT

    •  I'm ok really (13+ / 0-)

      the bad day was Thursday when there was a monster incident.  Takes me a couple to recover from the now - but I endure.

      But I have to remember, to get it on "paper" so I don't forget. If I keep forgetting then I can't ever get truly free from her.

      And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

      by Mortifyd on Sat Mar 16, 2013 at 11:38:41 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  IDK (13+ / 0-)
      please believe me when I say it is possible to find people who simply love you for who you are, rather than some twisted concept of who you're 'supposed to be'.
      People seem to dismiss how being treated like this by ones family makes one unable to trust anyone interpersonally.

      "Til you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules" John Lennon - Working Class Hero

      by Horace Boothroyd III on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 04:30:25 AM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  IDK about dismiss maybe underestimate (11+ / 0-)

        I thought I had found someone who would love me as I am - but it was a lie.  A beautiful lie, but still a lie.  And when it all fell apart so did I  - and here I am back in the den of the monster as a result.

        And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

        by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 05:49:32 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

        •  Hey I manage. After a fashion. (9+ / 0-)

          But I never, ever go into the monsters den. And if I even smell the monster I run away. If it is close I freeze and hope it doesn't notice me or just go full possum.

          But after the extremes gone to on me for this:
           

          rather than some twisted concept of who you're 'supposed to be'.
          Who could blame me?

          What do you need?

          "Til you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules" John Lennon - Working Class Hero

          by Horace Boothroyd III on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:06:20 AM PDT

          [ Parent ]

          •  oh I don't blame you (11+ / 0-)

            and I suppose if I was smart I would have stayed on the boat and tried to survive another winter on the water - but I would have ended up begging and scrimping for that from someone - either the monster or Kossacks.  I simply can't hold down a job right now and jobs are scarce in Astoria - or were when I left in the rain.

            It's always a trade off, you know?  There were lies about how it was down here - but there was help.  The car got fixed, licensed and insured. The boat got insured. Some bills got paid that were dragging me down. I had heat and an indoor toilet and learned how to shower daily again.

            But I'm isolated and not improving and the process of seeing doctors provided by the state is much slower in Bobby Jindal's swampland. There's no money for the poor and sick. There's no healthcare, no OHP pool to wait in, no dentists with pity.

            The other thing is - I was that same wide eyed child I always am - so stunned by the hand reaching out after all these years - I overlooked it was attached to the monster.  I believed it could be different. It's not.  But I believed it could be and that was all that mattered at the time.  I believed I could come home and be forgiven.

            And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

            by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:21:19 AM PDT

            [ Parent ]

            •  They don't like being confronted by what they see (8+ / 0-)

              as failure.

              "Til you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules" John Lennon - Working Class Hero

              by Horace Boothroyd III on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:39:39 AM PDT

              [ Parent ]

            •  This... (15+ / 0-)
              I believed I could come home and be forgiven.
              The first step here is to realize there is nothing you need to be forgiven FOR. You are who you are, and you have to accept that. They probably never will, and that's something you should maybe forgive them for, but never expect forgiveness in return because you aren't wrong. You didn't do anything to require forgiveness. Existing is not a wrong nor a sin. Being you is not a wrong nor a sin.

              This was something I had to come to terms with myself. I've always been the 'black sheep' in one way or another. I was the one who ruined my mother's child hood because I was born when she was still a child. I was the one who made her drop out of school and made all her friends shun her because she got pregnant with me at 16 and out of wedlock. I was the one she starved herself to feed when money was tight. I was the one she stayed home with while my dad was away in the military and having an affair. This is the way it was always told to me. It wasn't until I was an adult and could actually process that NONE of that was my decision or my fault or anything I did. And none of the various ways she had of 'punishing' me for it or throwing it in my face or making me feel guilty was my fault either. She still does find ways sometimes, though we've mostly come to terms with each other because she wants a relationship with her grand kids.

              For example, she scheduled the date for my sister's wedding for the same day and time I graduated college. She knew the date of the graduation six months or more in advance, and schedule my sister's wedding less than a month before it. So my dad and both my sisters and my mom were at the wedding while I was graduating college. I didn't get to go to the wedding nor did I have any of them at my graduation. But I had my Other Half and my kids and some friends there, one of whom flew in from out of state just to come. So while it upset me, I didn't let it stop me.

              Sometimes she'll get mad at me for no apparent reason and stop talking to me for a couple of years. The only reason that upsets me is the kids suffer for it. They don't understand why grandma stops showing up. My daughter for a while had an imaginary grandma. That hasn't happened since she got married to my step-father though. He really loves the kids. I think he put his foot down.

              "Madness! Total and complete madness! This never would've happened if the humans hadn't started fighting one another!" Londo Mollari

              by FloridaSNMOM on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 07:37:06 AM PDT

              [ Parent ]

              •  I get that mentally most of the time (4+ / 0-)

                but emotionally it's never clicked.  

                I'm not a child of rape, I simply didn't stop it - how a 2 year old is supposed to do that I have NO idea - but I didn't.  Children should not be told this over and over.

                Mum married my dad at 18 and I was born when she was 27.  I was very much wanted - until I developed a personality she didn't like very much and stopped being a doll that could be dressed up and used as a prop for attention.  The monster does not see me as an actual person, more like a limb that it can't control.  It is still raging that I got away at 17 and treats me just like it did when I left. Wrong name, wrong pronouns, constant attempts to out me in public. Mum is "working on it, but it's hard because you left us and we don't know you."

                I was also supposed to be a boy.  My Mum was continually harassed by her in-laws until she produced the One True Boy - he is the Only True Grandson on both sides. He developed diabetes at 10 months - so keeping him alive was the whole focus of my childhood.  I was designated "the healthy one."  I had TB at age 7 and had mandatory treatment - and the lung scars to prove it - but Mum erases any memory that doesn't suit her narrative of the moment.  To this day she insists I did not have TB, I was "only exposed to it."  

                Most of the miscarriages happened after me, there was only one before - a boy.  I would not have been born had he lived to birth - I was conceived after/because she lost him. Children also should not be told this over and over.

                I understand mentally both my parents are damaged.  

                Violence and abuse is normal in my Mum's family - she was locked in closets and beaten for things her younger sister did - she has a monster too - and it lives about 5 minutes away from us. The girls were not allowed to play together because they were "too noisy" and kept in opposite ends of the house.  

                Generations of sexual abuse have come out in the family history - while it stopped with my Bubbe's generation - the scars are still passed on.  My Aunt is also on the spectrum. She has no children and raises goats - and lives in a shed - because she and her current husband are incapable of not buying toys for their land long enough to actually build themselves a house. They are extreme Orthodox Christians - think Greek Orthodox haredi.

                Col CatLady is on the spectrum. He is a completely black/white thinker who was raised in an extreme southern fundamentalist household by an RN with a cleanliness fetish. Alzheimer's runs in his family, taking his father and many of my great aunts and uncles.  

                He had a brilliant international posting to set him up for promotion upward and blew it - we were sent home early.  He didn't understand what he was supposed to do and was angry and dived into the beer keg.  Had he been young enough or late enough for Desert Storm instead of a prime military diplomatic posting he would have made general based on his tactical skills - but he wasn't. Now he is obsessed with cats, guns and talking about Vietnam - and scared because his black/white views of the world are no longer the clear majority except on FOX.

                Mum keeps saying, "we will do family therapy if that's what it takes to make you better."  But the truth is - they don't want to face any of that.  They are afraid I will tell the family secrets, that I will get better and leave again.  They are horrified when I manage to hold a boundary - I'm not supposed to have any because FAAAAAAAAMILY.  

                So it's really just a black hole that I've spent my entire life trying to escape while the gravity pulls me slowly apart.

                And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

                by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 05:44:12 PM PDT

                [ Parent ]

                •  I'm not the child of rape either. (4+ / 0-)

                  Just pre-marital teen sex that ended in a pregnancy, before abortion was legal and safe. But I understand the rest all too well. There was also sexual abuse on both sides of the family, though not in my family that I'm aware of. My cousin though was molested by my Uncle, and there was a bedroom in my grandparent's house with the door lock on the inside, that was the girls' bedroom. Which seems to say to me that they knew about it way back then. I've had to move back home once, escaping my abusive first husband, and again when I moved to Florida from PA until I got a job and got on my feet. I escaped again twice, despite the gravity of the black hole. I have confidence in you. I know it is dark right now, but it's not entirely black. We're here, and we'll do what we can to help you.

                  "Madness! Total and complete madness! This never would've happened if the humans hadn't started fighting one another!" Londo Mollari

                  by FloridaSNMOM on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:39:49 PM PDT

                  [ Parent ]

                  •  this is technically my second return (3+ / 0-)

                    I escaped an abusive boyfriend at 20 - I worked 2 jobs joined the Navy and got the hell out 4 months later - and never looked back until now.

                    But I was discharged from the Navy medically before I could go active duty long enough to gain benefits, and I felt an obligation to periodically phone and write - so I was only ever partially free.

                    But now all I can think about is that the weather must be getting better in Astoria and my boat needs finishing out - and I'm here hiding in my room and waiting until they go to bed to venture out like an animal and forage - my snacks are gone and my car has been blocked in since Thursday.

                    Rationally though, I know that going home would make me feel better - but wouldn't change the necessity of money to pay bills, the slip fees coming due in a couple months - and limited if any prospects on jobs, assuming I'm well enough to show up bathed and functional every shift.  

                    I need that SSDI to gain my independence again. I have an appointment on the 21st at the clinic and I will see what they can do to help push it through without giving my parents control over the money - but without funds or enough of me working to work - I'm kind of fucked.

                    I can't keep asking people to pay my living expenses so I don't have to live with them.  It's not right.

                    And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

                    by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 07:50:47 PM PDT

                    [ Parent ]

                    •  I understand... (4+ / 0-)

                      And I hope that SSDI comes through quickly for you. As to not giving them control over the money, that should be accomplished fairly easy. I've known people a lot worse off then you who had control of their own finances. If they do want to give control to someone else, ask for a Guardian ad litem or social worker to have that control because you can't trust your parents.

                      But we're still here, we'll hold up the light and make sure you can see your way home again. You have friends, and people who care about you here. We may be a bit distant physically, but we can shine brightly. You're very often in my thoughts, I'm always happy to read these updates, they let me know you are still here, and still fighting.

                      "Madness! Total and complete madness! This never would've happened if the humans hadn't started fighting one another!" Londo Mollari

                      by FloridaSNMOM on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 08:16:24 PM PDT

                      [ Parent ]

  •  Dear Friend, you have to beat back the monster (9+ / 0-)

    until you can come back to your true home where the monster can't beat you. You know you can endure, and each day brings you closer to  the day you can leave all that disfunctional place behind an live in the real world where you have a chance to survive. Please, hang in there.

    •  since the monster hides in/IS my mum (10+ / 0-)

      I will never be free of it until she's dead.  if then.  But I sure as hell want to get as far away from it as possible at the moment.

      And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

      by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 01:58:36 AM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  Mortifyd, is it possible ... (8+ / 0-)

        ... for you to go back to Portland?  

        I am holding you in the light.  Hugs, it you accept hugs.

        Dwell on the beauty of life. ~ Marcus Aurelius

        by Joy of Fishes on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 05:07:22 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

        •  not without help. Or SSDI coming through (13+ / 0-)

          I simply don't have the funds to drive back across the country and I'm not stable enough to hold down a job (or jobs more likely) to get them right now - or support myself until I am, even with my low living expenses on the boat in Astoria.  The slip fees will be due again in June - that's $800 (for the year) I have to pull out of my ass because Col CatLady is very unlikely to cough that up whether I am here or there.

          This is not to say they take care of nothing - they got my car fixed, they pay my insurance, I get a small allowance (I clean a lot) and they pay the monthly liveaboard fee and electric for my sealed up boat.  But it's not enough to do more than fill my gas tank once a month, buy shorts on sale at VoldeMart and keep me in my ecig tips.  When my SNAP goes away (it's from Oregon, so I won't get the paperwork to re-up at 6 months) then I will have to buy my own "snacks" - the food I actually eat other than the daily family dinner.  

          My hope is that my Disability case will come through - that this current doctor improved my case with the SS office. They did want to know who I had seen since I moved here and I dutifully produced the information - but I have no idea if they actually bothered to contact him or what he said.

          IF that happens, I should get about $900 a month - enough to go home on, more than enough to pay my expenses at home on the boat and be able to drive to Portland if need be to see therapists and whatever to become human again on my own. If it doesn't - then I'm stuck here until I can find enough of myself to work and save enough to go home - assuming I have a home to go to left.

          And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

          by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:06:34 AM PDT

          [ Parent ]

      •  You can be free of it. (1+ / 0-)
        Recommended by:
        Joy of Fishes

        Why do you buy into the idea that you "owe" the monster?

        Say good-bye.  Leave.

        The fact that someone is your mother or father, sister, brother, grand-parent in no way, shape or form obligates you to put up with this misery for the rest of your life.

        Get away. You have no responsibility to her.

        Why do we all bow to the tyranny of merely sharing DNA with someone?  A mother is someone who at least tries to help, protect and love you.  Someone who is so flawed that they can do none of these things is someone you should, with regret for what might have been, but no guilt, remove from your life.  

        It's sad, but it's reality.  No one should have to carry the burden of a monster all their life.  Give up the false guilt or the vain hopes, refuse to accept any condemnations from other members of your family and walk away....far way. All the way to freedom.  And peace. You can even wish her well, in all sincerity, but go.

        Freedom has two enemies: Those who want to control everyone around them...and those who feel no need to control themselves.

        by Sirenus on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 06:30:37 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

        •  and go where, exactly? (3+ / 0-)

          I have medical issues that preclude going to live on the street. I ended up here because I was going to drown myself - not being strong enough to survive another Pacific Northwest winter alone on a broken down sailboat fighting physical and mental illness.  I am a transperson in a republican state - no help other than the basic meds and appointments at the local mental health clinic will be forthcoming - I was REFUSED as Social Security card replacement because of my gender identity - I pass really well. So well that even my father being present and verifying my identity were not enough to get me a card - so I can't get a local driver's license, much less apply for a job scraping dishes.

          I can't go anywhere until I get SSDI or win the lottery - I'm not currently functional enough to hold a job - and if I could find one - I would lose access to the clinic and my meds.

          So where do I go - and how do I get there with $40 to my name and my actual physical home 3200 miles away?

          And we sail and we sail and we never see land, just the rum in the bottle and a pipe in my hand...

          by Mortifyd on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 07:27:28 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

  •  My best most positive (11+ / 0-)

    thoughts are headed your way, for whatever it's worth.  We care.

    "The light which puts out our sight is darkness to us." Thoreau

    by NancyWH on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 09:19:16 AM PDT

  •  Mort, my dear friend, I am so sorry. (4+ / 0-)

    I know how smart and funny and good you are, how warm, how worthy.  I wish that you could know it too, and take strength from it; that it could be your shield and armor against the monster.

    Fox News is to the truth as a flaming bag of dog shit is to a packed lunch. --MinistryOfTruth

    by snazzzybird on Sun Mar 17, 2013 at 03:02:02 PM PDT

  •  I think the best thing I ever did was walk away (6+ / 0-)

    from my family of origin. I also grew up in a place where there was no safe place. My heart goes out to you.  You can create a safe place in this world.  At least a relatively safe place.  I have been working on it for years and am getting there.

    My heart aches for you tonight and I hope you are okay.

    That passed by; this can, too. - Deor

    by stevie avebury on Mon Mar 18, 2013 at 04:17:08 AM PDT

  •  Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers -- ? (0+ / 0-)

    Have you happened across this site? Resources that can help sons, too.  The books section, especially, and many of the articles.

    http://www.daughtersofnarcissisticmothers.com/

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