the horror
the horror of it all...
I am an inconvenience - the truth of my life with my parents.
My mother loved the phone more than she loved me.
My mother loved looking to see if her lipstick was on properly more than she loved me. My mother loved her Italian leather shoes more than she loved me. My mother loved going to the hairdressers more than she loved me. My mother loved herself more than she loved me. My mother said she loved me. She was full of shit. Mum believes I’m doing it to her deliberately, to annoy her. She believes it’s my fault. She warns me, telling me to stop, but I keep going, pushing, pushing - always pushing. So fuck it she thinks, I told you: hit, hit, hit, you’re doing it on purpose. But I’m only doing it on purpose because she’s making me do it, but she fails to see that. She fails to see the truth of all her actions. She fails to see how she's hurting me, how she's not loving me. She fails to see, because she doesn't want to see. And she doesn't want to see because her mother didn't want to see the pain she caused her.
Your parents are supposed to be loving and caring - So Don’t Blame Yourself. Don’t let your parents off the hook. It should be ‘I wish my parents were different, I wish they loved me and cared for me’, NOT, ‘I wish I were different’. Don’t dump all the shit on yourself, they dumped all theirs on you, so dump it back on them.
Why you are suffering and in so much pain is because of how your parents treated you. It’s all your parents fault, if you don’t blame them you’ll never forgive and accept yourself. You’ll always put your parents first denying yourself, just as they put themselves first denying you. |
I was made to respect the other person - them, my parents, but at the expense of myself.
I was made to disrespect myself, so I can’t stand up for myself as I couldn’t stand up to them. And... How you are, how you respect yourself, is how you will respect others. Your parents didn’t respect you as they didn’t respect themselves, as they weren’t respected. I was trained to be subservient.
Then subservient I am forevermore - until I complete my healing. |
My mother is fallible - YES!
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My parents didn’t tell me what was going on. No matter how young I was, I wanted to know, I wanted to feel included, I wanted them to relate to me truly, to at least make me feel they cared about me and my feelings, even if I didn’t understand intellectually. Feelings are far more important than the mind.
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I’m trying to control my controlled state.
If you grow up in violence and hard physical abuse, at least in a perverted sense you might feel like you exist, you did have someone paying attention to you. If you grew up feeling no one paid attention to you, you'll feel ever so bad; and feeling you don’t exist is one of the worst feelings of all... And then feeling no one wants you to exist, they wish you didn’t exist, and if they could they’d get rid of you... well, you can’t begin to imagine that pain.
Sadly you’re addicted to your parents control over you. You take it into your own hands by doing to yourself what they did to you. You now create all the pain for yourself they made you feel.
Only, as an adult you fail to see this. Become the child again through your feelings, and you will feel and so see the truth of this for yourself. And then you will be healed. |
Oh you gave me such a wonderful time, yelling at me, hitting me, punishing me - always telling me how to be, what to say and when to say it. Always telling me how bad I am. You were so loving, teaching me all those invaluable lessons. Oh I’m so grateful to you. I had such a great childhood, so many good memories: being sent to my room and not allowed to come out until dinner time; having to eat all those over-cooked yukky vegetables before I could leave the dinner table; the intense pain on my bum when you smacked me. Gee mum and dad, I loved being criticised and humiliated, all the pain and hurt was just what I needed. You were the best parents anyone could ask for - I sure am glad I got you. I love feeling so fucked, my life never working, feeling like I hardly exist. Thank you both so much for all your loving, thoughtful, caring help, that's completely fucked up my self-esteem and self-expression. Childhood sure was the best time of my life. And it couldn’t have been anything else but fantastic because of you my terrific parents.
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Where is the fucking father in all of this?
Where was my father!
Where was my father!
‘Oh you little shit, I see what you’re trying to do. Trying to have one over me are you? Well I'll teach you a lesson, and a lesson you won’t forget...’ The whole worlds against me, it’s out to get me. I don’t see the child - the person, it’s just evil, they're trying to stop me be how I want to be. I can beat and even kill my child without feelings, without love, compassion or mercy. I can do whatever I like to it because it’s me, and that was how I was treated. It’s now my chance to hit back, to do to it as was done to me. And it’s still me, still being bad, and I have to beat myself - as they beat me. I’m sick, my mind is deranged, but it can’t be any other way. I’m a product of my upbringing - I am a result of how I was made to feel. I treat myself this way.
Everything is an extension of you. The outside world is your mirror showing you what you’re doing to yourself. Killing the boy is killing yourself - the boy that you still are, the boy that feels killed by its hateful parents. The boy your parents 'killed'.
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Self-abuse. Am I supposed to be grateful for the thrashing; so grateful for the punishment that it’s making me a better person. And so much so, that I take over thrashing and punishing myself through my addictions, believing I’m doing a good thing to myself.
We’re addicted to our negative states, addicted to being bad. And a part of this chronic addiction is that we believe we are good and not bad.
You’ve got your addiction because you were heavily controlled, now the addiction is controlling you, but it’s the still the same - the thing you’re addicted you has only replaced the face of your parents.
We can have feelings yet act out our beliefs, often totally contrary to our feelings.
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‘I’LL TEACH YOU A LESSON.’
How fucking mean and cruel is that!
How fucking mean and cruel is that!
Evil for me has been lies. Telling me it’s for me when it’s not. Making me think that it’s my life and all one way, my way, when it’s not my way and not my life. It’s all been about deceit, all against me, all to stop me having a true friend. A true friend in myself, and a true friend in my soul-mate.
My mother and father have turned out to be fake and false friends. They were more like an older annoying sister who was always telling me how to be and what to do all the time.
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I am an empty space, I eat to fill it up. I stuff myself giving myself good feelings to replace all the bad ones.
‘The parents responsibility is to discipline its child.’ Oh yes, and fuck it up well and truly.
Go away you horrible parent - you don’t love me!
I hate you mum. I hate you dad. |
Why do I feel so unloved? Because I wasn’t loved as a child.
What happens to an unloved child? It grows up feeling unloved.
What happens to an unloved child? It grows up feeling unloved.
Who will scream the last scream?