Old Fashioned vs. Abuse

Archives1

Staff member
I just wanted to start off this conversation by stating this is going to be a heavy topic for myself to discuss.

I came a long way to get to where i am now - and through years of therapy, mental rehab, and being put on the wrong medicine time after time again; i have come to the truth of my story. Its something i came to, more so than a year ago.

You guys know about my dad and step mom. But you guys a long time ago, may remember myself talking about an older woman who was a "daytime babysitter" for myself in my younger years. When my bladder issues worsened two years ago; i was put on a medicine called "Gabapentin" i dont know if youve heard of it. I was prescribed it in rehab.

It made me hallucinate and was something i was prescribed and eventually fell into a habit of taking until around November of 2020. A good six months at least. During those times; i was emotionally unstable. I was suffering from PTSD episodes and trying to piece together trauma from my past. Who could blame me, i was just starting out my journey to handling incontinence which was a bitter wound to my past.

But thats besides the point. What i bring to your attention today, is what is considered old fashioned and what is now considered emotional, mental, and physical abuse.

Neglect in a way.

You see, after the divorce. I was sent to a bsbysitters house out in the sticks of where i live. She lived in a big dark brown, blackish place - with a long blacktop driveway. I remember because i would constantly cry out for my mom on occasioks when she left on some days.

My mother would ask me why i hated going there, but she never got it out of me. As a babysitter or childcare provider, if a child never felt comfortable spending time at my house - i would alert the parents that maybe this isnt the right fit vs. taking the money.

I remember i didnt have a toothbrush at her house, and she would make me brush my teeth with my index finger after lunch. Since we are talking the crest of the mellenium; in the 2000s - times were different back then. They were the times when you had an accident, you were punished for them. You were made to feel infantile for something that was not your fault.

I remember when any of us kids lied; i remember on one occasion we all stood in a line while she went down the row asking who was lying until the kid who fessed up admited to it - sometimes in tears.

I remember because of my sporadic accidents as a child, being put in time out in the back den away from the other children. They always treated there blood relatives better than myself - and it was something i grew up with in my own family as well.

When your a child; you dont understand the feelings of being humiliated for things that are not your fault like enuresis episodes, speech issues, and not being able to swim.

I remember having to wear a bathing suit that felt not age appropriate but was more so for safety to ensure i didnt drown. But they should have known i didnt want to anything to do with it. But instead, because all the other kids were swimming, i had to go to. I had to grin and bear it.

When memories and physical ailments such as Bedwetting come back from the past; it reminds me of a book called "The Body Keeps the Score". Small bits and pieces came back, and i didnt understand them. But the rehab center that i went to as it was so new, pushed things on me and honestly it hyperbolated my entire life. The medicine even worsened it.

But those memories, piece by piece, came to a puzzle. The puzzle of my life. The puzzle where i can say; i am above this person! I am above the past!

That i can still recognize what is okay, and what is not okay. And to be honest; everything thus far from what i have on them vs the few false memories that came to myself during a time i was starting my journey of dealing with incontinence is minuscule in comparison.

I can say, i am still the bigger person. Because i spoke up. I said something. I put my foot forward and said - that those real memories were still not okay because of the feelings that existed inside my body during those times were still not okay. Because those feelings existed, i now know that i would never espouse those damaging feelings on another - i know what not to do.

For those who are my age or older, do you guys have any relatable memories of having to deal with non relatives who took care of you? Are old fashioned discipline to you considered abuse to you in todays society? What would you do if you were put in a situation where you had to contfront a person who emotionally traumatized and abused you?

The reason why i ask the last one; is even after all this time. Im still afraid of them. I would still feel the same humiliation i did all those years ago.

Its feels like being owned by another human being. Powerless.

Sincerely,
HC
 
@Honeeecombs

At 37, I am still dealing with things from my past. I have some family members that I do not talk to due to things that were done/said.

The way I talk about some people is in terms of the emotional cookie jar. People put cookies in the jar and then can take some out by saying, doing things that bother you.

But If someone doesn't/ hasn't put cookies in the jar then they, in turn, have no right to emotionally affect you. I have a bunch of family the live within a city block from me that I have not seen in two years. They have never put cookies in the Jar so I have no time for them. I still love them but imagine an aunt or uncle never even wishing you a happy birthday and then acting all hurt with they only see you at family reunions.

Or, those same people telling you they would love to see your parents dead. Yea, Has happened a lot to me... So I have no time for them.
 
Really glad you are facing these past issues now. You sound like you are brave to even voice them.
I hope you have a good sounding board a professional therapist you can trust but writing here is a good healing place. Write for yourself as well.

You have very compassionate thoughts on how things could be handled
 
I grew up in a household with an alcoholic stepfather who was physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive. At first it was directed to my older sister (she was 6 years older). When she moved in with our father, my stepfather began targeting me instead.
This lasted from when I was about 8-9 until I was almost 18.

It should be noted that he was quite a bit older than my mom. So when I was 17 he was in his mid 60s and time was catching up with him.

Time/puberty was starting to catch up with me too. I started to get a lot bigger and was taking martial arts.
I remember I came home one night and due to icy roads I ended up being 10 minutes past my curfew. While explaining to my mom about the road conditions, my stepfather started in on me and said one of these days I'm gonna take you outside. The inference was that he was going to fight me.

I'm not sure what snapped inside of me but I'd had enough. I told him why wait? Let's go right now. You're a 65 year old whose had 2 heart attacks. I'll kick your ass from here to the end of the driveway!
At this point my mom got between us and told us both to go to bed.
I responded with "f- that, I'm tired of his BS. He wants a fight. That's fine by me, but I'm not going to sit here and keep putting up with his threats or his abuse.

After that I think he realized that he could no longer intimidate me and that if he tried I was ready to stand up for myself so he couldn't push me around anymore.
 
Tturcot67 I bet that last encounter was glorious for yourself lol. I could just imagine it from how you wrote it and described it. However unfortunately at how good it would have felt the very damage he has caused you is unspeakable of. I hope you have sought out your own counselling since this event as you are emotionally damaged in a sense just by what your step father did or not do when you grew up. Truly it’s sad how damaging these instances may have been and I wish you all the best and wanted to thank you for writing about this on this forum.

For myself I am damaged in ways from my parents not ever being the touchy emotional bonding people and then they adopted my brother when I was 7 years old and honestly home life went to hell. My brother is aboriginal, autistic, fedal alcohol syndrome, bi polar and on and on not sure if he has a final diagnosis and honestly I think he was still detoxing for the first year of his life and then everything went to hell. My parents withdrew from their social groups so now it is just them and my brother is living in their basement playing video games at age 33 however nothing has changed other than this is the status quo my parents accept. They are not effective communicators as I have gone to counseling weekly for like 2.5 years to re program my brain and how I interact with my folks. As I would say my mom is verbally abusive not that she even knows that but times have changed and I have tried to reach out to them with many attempts and 2 handwritten letters to them explaining what I was going through etc. with my Ms diagnosis and at a point when I was trying to discuss dying options with anyone my parents and I would get into screaming matches over even bringing up death. The sad reality for them being 75 and 74 and to this date I cannot discuss death with either of them especially with covid still making it’s rounds. I found I connection with my therapist to discuss assisted suicide and that was one of the most relieving topics to de-stress myself with my own new medical diagnosis of relapse remitting MS approx 4 years ago. I guess we move on in our own ways assuming someone wants to find solid answers like I did and I found ways to do so.

In terms of your question of whether or not it was old fashion or abuse. I am similar to you Honeecomb in that I would have attributed my upbringing to just old fashioned etc as I was spanked etc. my only caveat to this is I have done many hours of EMDR treatments which basically bring back memories etc for people and I cannot bring back any memories from 0-10 years old which my therapists say is very uncommon so unless I uncover something truly tramatic and hence me trying to block it out I will say old fashion however I still have something underneath which isn’t sitting well inside of me. I guess time will tell. Sorry for such a disjointed response.

Cheers

Jason
 
The things you all shared here today have stayed with me and continue to.
Nothing but respect for your insights and courage to try to be better men from your experiences. Wishing you all safe passages and good days.
 
The satisfaction - and the relief - of being able to respond to a bully can be overwhelming. There are people on here who bear scars, physical and mental.
Schools in the 1950s and 1960s not only weren't concerned about bullies, they enabled them. It was the victims that were punished. And God help you if the bully was on a winning football team.
I have never been back for a High School reunion - and with a graduating class of 450, could only tell you a single last name and only a few first names. It only took a few beating before I devised ways and routes to avoid them - or made sure the few teachers who were willing to punish the bullies were there to witness. Wish I knew some of the answers, then, that I know now, and I'm not talking about martial arts or something.
Our parents did not back us; what the principal said was law.
So I haven't had to deal with "friends", old "classmates", or parents since then. It was with some bemusement that I watched the new anti-bully "fad" start - and more than a little skepticism.
There was an anti-bullying forum on the web, much like this one, where I encountered some help - and then returned to sea, in the days long before the web went more universal via satellite. And met a First Mate whose specialty was bullying. It was his only skill. I started carrying around one of those "voice-actuated recorders" from Radio Shack. 6-7 months later, when I was captive on the helm and he was lighting into me in front of the rest of the bridge gang, I told everyone present about the recorder, that it was in my shirt pocket, and I had backups. The look on his face meant a lot to me, though I recognize it is supposedly not a "Christian" way to respond. His continuing silence for my last few months at that job meant a lot, too. He'd been hiding behind "rank". In the military, there is almost zero opportunity for Enlisted to deal with a bullying Officer. Not so in the Merchant Marine, although you better have your ducks in a row.
I just DuckDuckGo'd bullying programs, and there were 10 just on the first page. Some are for letting off steam, some are teaching and info, some are for prevention, some are for getting help. Some are for coping. Probably, some are for dealing with the PTSD. Worth looking for, although I'd Google "reviews" before trying one or joining.
It's bullying: in the family, the playground, the school, the job. It hurts.
If you can devise a way to ignore a bully and get away with it, that feels good, too.
Hope this helps.
 
@Jwh51: Hey man! You sound strong; and you have always given myself solid advice. I can't imagine what it would be like living with a condition like MS - but you are doing well. You know, I guess some people just don't remember better than others in regards to there childhood memories - but it may manifest at a time when you body knows you can handle it or are able to remember..

The Body is weird; it's quite ironic that I had to start mentally dealing with my own memories coming forward during a time when a physical ailment came forward that brought back those feelings. I am a firm believer in "The Body Keeps the Score". Prayers my friend.

@AlasSouth: I enjoyed reading your post on Bullying being everywhere. It reminded me of a situation I got myself into this week. About a year ago, the inspection in my car ran out about a year ago (its good now) - and our local Chief of Police used to stop me to make me aware that the color was off.

But, due to a personal situation starting a couple months ago - I have the feeling he doesn't like me anymore because of my significant other (or other reasons, not entirely sure. I always keep my guard up for ptsd reasons). Well anyway, I was heading to work the other day and they saw my significant other driving my car and the registerstion expired and due to hardship financially I haven't been able to get it fixed. The car is parked now of course, but anyway; I had to head to work the other day and he drove by myself and noticed I was driving it; and quickly took the next block to head up the side street which merges with the road we were on possibly in an effort to get behind myself for a reason for a traffic stop. The lights in my head kind of clicked on and I luckily was able to veer off to the only street that turns right before the hill to "the fork" and was able to make it to work.

Even subtle things like that; you just never know. I have family in the municipal sector and live in a small town so everybody knows everybody's business - I've just been pulled over multiple times by them for non legal reasons and I just didn't really want the hassle to actually get a ticket for being in a hardship because I didnt know if he was hot or cold.

The rest of the day went smooth thankfully. I went out of town that day and that night I was reached out by some local church members I haven't heard from to assist in a service project - so I've got that on my agenda this evening so that's good!. Yesterday, I recieved some forms for a personal case I've been working on - so had to fill those out and get those turned in yesterday then was back out of town to pick my significant other up and ended up stopping at Taco Bell for dinner. I got my mind off of the past few days and i'm actually very happy with how the week has progressed as my stress levels have seemed to decrease when dealing with situations and effectively managing them.


You are right that venting off steam definetly helps.

Take care guys,
HC
 
I've been stopped by police- usually for small things like not having the sticker on my front license, only the back one. Or a rear blinker out. But I lived enough years in Chicago that it was routine for a cop to want a bribe.
The whole city was set up that way, it was just the way things were.
I did it twice. Thinking about it, it was abuse - bullying. Using the threat of court and costs and fines and time wasted to extort money.
They had changed a few blocks of an Avenue to a "Boulevard", and were waiting. "Trucks" were heavy users before and after the part declared a Boulevard, that day, and it was rush hour. It had been an avenue for generation. At that time and year, it was the only state where you could get a ticket for driving a truck on a boulevard. The chevy van I was driving for my boss magically was a "truck". The cop demanded to see my wallet. It had a $5 and a couple of $1s. Wasn't enough. My boss paid me back without me asking. My Insurance Agent laughed and told me my premium wouldn't go up or even go on my record, they were so used to it.
Not sure of the percentage, but bet any number of us went though that. No one hit or gassed me - or used a threat. (They didn't have to, and we were taught to "go along and don't complain".) It is still abuse, and it translates into other abuses. Whether we are given Sh** over incontinence or ridicule – or a traffic ticket.
Better than being stopped because you are Black or Latinx. We knew that, too.
Stay Safe, everyone. Stay ticket-free. (There is no vaccine for that).
 
@Honeeecombs I was abused by a Mormon relative aunt who took care of me. She told me because I wasn’t Mormon that we had the devil in our house and that my parents were pure evil. At that time (1980) I had really long hair - actually I always have - but it was all one length back then. She told me I didn’t deserve to have the same haircut as her daughters. So she chopped my hair and made me have bangs.

Because of that and other abusive punishments from the Mormon half of the family, my parents and I have not had anything to do with my dad’s side of the family pretty much ever since, except at funerals. It sucks because my mom is from England and there are only four relatives from her family here besides me. Meanwhile on my dad side of the family, there are endless members of the family. We have to live a lonely life because of how they rejected us and insisted that we’re evil for not being Mormon.

Funny thing - for all their Mormon-ness and having a father who is a bishop - it was my aunt’s three daughters that were all pregnant before age 15, not me in my “evil” self!

What I experienced is very typical of how Mormons abuse non-Mormons in the state of Utah. Different neighbors tortured me in different ways in two totally different communities that I grew up in. There’s no escaping it around here. In the first neighborhood, when I was four years old I was told I was evil by my best friend’s mother because I was in a toy swimming pool on a Sunday. She then limited how much I was allowed to hang out with her daughter. That same friend’s brothers used to make me smell ammonia until I passed out, and repeatedly slammed my fingers in their heavy wooden front doors, telling me how evil I was because I wasn’t Mormon. Those same boys lit my parents mailbox and backyard on fire and put a note on our front porch saying that we were evil. Do you think they ever experienced any legal repercussions? No. One of them is now a cop – of course he is; he’s a lifelong bully!

We moved to a much more expensive neighborhood after the fire, where the torture was more subtle. By then I was a teenager and could physically fend for myself at least.

Mormons and non-Mormons do not mix. They don’t date, and they’re not friends. Abuses still happen like when I had to have a hysterectomy in 2018, none of our neighbors brought a casserole to my parents’ house where I was staying, but by god, they make sure they get casseroles to the Mormons. Even though my dad is handicapped, nobody ever offers to help my mom with her yardwork, snow shoveling, or taking out the garbage. We’re surrounded by teenage boys, but since they’re Mormon and we’re not, they could never offer to lift a finger to help us, though they’re always over helping the Mormon elderly neighbors.

If you’re a non-Mormon adult here, you don’t get including in or invited to anything. A more prejudiced, judgmental religion there never was.

So yes, I understand having been abused by a babysitter and neighbors.
 
@Honeeecombs By the way, the 2000s might seem like ancient history to you, but they’re not. What you experienced back then is as inexcusable as it is now. Don’t grant that wench any kind of normal thoughts just because it was the 2000s. She should’ve known better even back then!
 
@Jwh51 I’m sorry you went through that hell with your brother. My brother absolutely required the most attention and was unrelentingly given it, in addition to the huge majority of love. I felt like I barely existed after he was born. The eight years difference between us certainly didn’t and does not help. My mom didn’t protect me from my dad, who continues to be physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive to this day, so she was abusive in that way. I know I will have to work on sorting these feelings of nonstop rejection in therapy for the rest of my life :(

My brother learned to be physically abusive from my dad and a few years ago he beat the shit out of me. I now have a 10 year long restraining order against him at the state level, as does his wife. I will never be in the same room with him again except at a funeral. And I will have bodyguards then.

My dad told him to beat me up.

My mom believes them, not me. All she ever says is, “I wasn’t there.“ I had broken capillaries all over my chest - nonstop bruising covering - and had to have stitches in two places on my head. What does she think, I just beat myself up like that? The couch just flew from the living room into the kitchen on its own rather than my head being slammed into it by my brother? The blood on the Rockingchair from my head was not my blood?

The stuff all still hurts me deeply but I do still talk to my parents. I mostly help my mom. Sometimes that entails helping my dad, unfortunately. I think if she was dead I wouldn’t be speaking to him.

Similar to you, and some others on this forum, I’ve learned that I just have to love myself and that I only need to be perfect enough for myself. I have never been, nor will ever be, perfect enough for them, and that just doesn’t even need to matter. Easier to say than to actually ignore!m, especially since I have OCD and am definitely never perfect enough for myself - but I have made big leaps in self-acceptance over the past years.

Good job on having a plan for assisted suicide. I think everybody has the right and privilege to decide when they’re ready to die. It’s nobody else’s business. There is nothing wrong with it - notions of purgatory be damned! I’ve got the pills saved up and ready to go myself. I also know the local access points to the train lines. I found an underground book on the best ways to successfully kill yourself. It was printed like in the 60s or something, but only for a few months, so there are hardly any actual copies in existence, but there are definitely copies online.
 
@tturcot67 What a shame that your mom stayed with your stepfather, choosing the health of her marriage over the health of you and your sister. I hope at some point in her life, she apologized to you for that.
 
You must log in or register to post here.
Back
Top