My story

reply to post by WhiteAlice


I remember my mother often leaving the house after I completed some type of chore/task incorrectly. In her fury to leave me alone in the house she'd scream that the next people to pull into our driveway would be coming to take me away and I'd never see them again. I can recall this happening 15-20 times between the ages of 5 and 7. I can't recall what caused her outbursts to stop, but she was sure that she wouldn't see me again. The louder I screamed, the louder she laughed. It was pure, unadulterated evil. I had wondered when "they" were coming for me, just hoping they'd be nice.

The NY Eve I was in first grade, both parents told me I was adopted. Four hours later they said they had just been kidding. Most confusing holiday of my life! Needless to say, I don't trouble myself with them. I need to think a few things over that you've mentioned. I don't think our experiences are connected, yet your account of what you recall is ringing all kinds of bells in my head.

reply to post by chasingbrahman


I'm sorry to hear what your mother did with you. I agree that it was pure unadulterated evil, especially at such a young age. My mom would scream at me until I was crying and huddled into a ball on the floor. Then she'd mock me for crying "fake tears". She went so far as to take a photo of me like that to permanently document my "fake" tears and I stole it from her long ago. My mother was insanely concerned with appearances and perfection. She kept her rages confined to the house. I learned really fast that the safest place for me during one of her rages was outside. I was outside the house a lot as a kid. I think the reason why it's ringing a lot of bells for you despite the differences is probably because you and I were both clearly undermined in the same fundamental ways through substantial emotional and psychological abuse by that extreme perfectionism and a seeming lack of caring from our parents when society teaches us that our parents are supposed to unconditionally love us. We got the short end of the stick on that one. I tend to gravitate to stories of horrific abuse in the news and I know it's because I can relate so deeply as to how it feels to have zero safe quarter.

The one thing that kept me bound to mine was the absence of memories. Ironic, isn't it? My grandfather passed away a few years ago and between that and getting the boot from me, she did her own soul searching as they say. She's had some involvement with me over the last couple years and has shown remarkable improvement. I think that's a significant sign that he was truly the source and aggravation of her issues and she's finally been dealing with it herself. I still don't trust her as far as I can throw her but she also knows that if she does one more thing, she's out of our lives entirely and permanently.

reply to post by WhiteAlice


It's quite possible that you're right. Subconsciously, I think we work very hard to erase the evidence from our public personas so that (1) we might forget, step forward, join society and function and (2) so that nobody can find out what happened and possibly re-vicitmize us. When realizing we weren't the only victims, perhaps the memories, relief and validation rush to the forefront for just a moment of recognition.

That aside, I recall reading about the borderline personality disorder. Although I pursued psychology in my education (probably driven by my subconscious need to understand what happened), I shied away from pursuing it as a profession because I wasn't comfortable with the idea of assigning labels to disorders and conditions, as they often discounted the individual and how just one facet of their situation could mean they're an exception. That said, I'm certain that my mother lies somewhere between what most would diagnose as borderline and narcissism. I mention this because in my research on the borderline personality disorder, one consistent theme seemed to emphasize that many borderlines "self-correct" as they moved into their late-adulthood. Whether via perspective, experience, or sheer exhaustion, they seem to appear to have the capacity to regulate their reactions much more effectively. When my mother was in the presence of her mother (whom she blamed for her abuse) the abuse was different, in that it was a total rejection of me, as if that satisfied her own mother. I bring this up because as you've noticed with your mother in the wake of her father's death, I too noticed some bits of evidence after my mother's mom passed away that she was assessing her behavior and reflecting upon how her relationship to her own mother may have affected her capacity to have a beneficial relationship to me. But sometimes the doubt also sets in, and I realize that my mother's capacity for manipulation is possibly sharpening as she ages and she simply realized she won't have any visitors in the rest home unless she cleans up her act.

My sincerest thanks for sharing your story with such candor. I hope you continue to heal and find that, as the memories return, that they give you the comfort of at least knowing what happened.

reply to post by chasingbrahman

Could very well be though there is the potential on my end that what remains of my amnesia is artificial simply based on the tapes. The tape and drugging destroyed all trust that I could have ever had in any professional so I'm winging it with the very occasional guidance of a trusted friend who happens to be a psychologist, lol.That is probably the most infuriating aspect of those specific things that occurred. Finding the tape and the letter reminded me what had gone on that I had filed away in some disused corner of my brain and obliterated all hope of trust and assistance in dealing with the recollections and issues associated with it. Doesn't help matters when my dad is a nearly stone wall in trying to assist me (he wasn't around much either like yours) and my mother simply can't remember herself. All I ended up getting from my dad after threats was that I lived with my grandfather for one year when I was 6. The memories of the drills, running around the block for 20 laps or peeling potatoes for bad behavior, being forced to stand stock straight at attention alternating with at ease and saluting, the gun range at a base, archery, and his game of "mercy" where he'd challenge me to see who could cause the other to flinch in pain first by interlocking our fingers together and squeezing them together as hard as we could, crushing each others' knuckles. I was 6 for god's sake. That was life for a 6 year old under a former chief of staff.

Actually, borderline personality disorder is what I eventually settled on in regards to my mom. Kind of funny because I initially started out as a psychology major and was in the library reading psychology books for years in trying to comprehend what was up with me and my mother, lol. Same response though I didn't stick with it for long.. Anyways, a couple years after his death, I got fed up with her attitude of pretending that she had done nothing wrong and she admitted that she had no recollection of the events whatsoever while acknowledging that they probably did occur. That was truly eye opening. She also had an interesting tendency of absorbing facts about my life as her own along with emulating some things that I do as odd as that sounds. Strange dichotomy. Once I lost the "rose colored glasses", I realized that my grandfather was quite probably a very charismatic psychopath. One of the other things that I did with her was made the observation of recollecting his extremity and the treatment of me like I wasn't a child but a soldier in a boot camp. She was very defensive of him at the time (Stockholm!) but a few weeks later, confided in me that that was very clearly the same scenario for her-- times 1000.

You're welcome and thank you, too. Not much hope on any more memories returning. Not holding my breath for that one, lol, but at least I have a better awareness of what occurred as troubling as it is. Sometimes, I think what occurred within my family is really very important because it provides a look into the extreme that a military family can have occur as the rank gets higher and higher. Definitely healing and maybe someday I'll stop idolizing him altogether. I'm getting there.

Originally posted by WhiteAlice
reply to post by chasingbrahman

 

Sometimes, I think what occurred within my family is really very important because it provides a look into the extreme that a military family can have occur as the rank gets higher and higher. Definitely healing and maybe someday I'll stop idolizing him altogether. I'm getting there.

Of all of the damage done, the damage I'm the most angry and resentful of is the fact that somehow, they convinced me that my feelings had absolutely no importance, which unfortunately meant, and sometimes still means, that I second-guess my gut feelings. By this, I mean that among all of the disgust, anger, and contempt I have for them, there echoes a little voice repeating "but they love you". Ignoring that voice, and trusting that it will continue to quiet, has been my biggest challenge. I am no longer in contact with them, however, this voice has come close - more than once - to convincing me to pick up the phone and call them after convincing me for a moment that I was being ungrateful. The process of "talking myself down" from these ledges is comparable to my adult self attempting to soothe my memory of being their child. Stopping the blind worship your inner-child still insists upon is beyond frustrating. I just keep hoping that one day, every component of my identity will stand firmly in my corner, and not theirs. One day, you'll remember him simply as a man your very young self once looked up to until you learned better. We'll both get there.

reply to post by chasingbrahman


That we will. I have the same issues but it's eroding very rapidly. Part of what I did to hasten it was to actually start doing all that I could to "fact check" my life. The sheer amount of lies present over baffling things is just appalling and has made me pretty darn angry. I've made it very amply clear that I'm not a doormat anymore. I recognized the impacts of normalizing abnormal behavior and raised my children far away from all of them in the hopes of completely eradicating the cycle. So far, it's been highly effective as my children know what it's like to have a good family and what isn't "good" without my even having to point it out. I overhear them talking afterwards, lol. But yes, for myself--like you--it's a whole other ballgame. We'll get there eventually indeed, lol.

reply to post by WhiteAlice


Hi there and thanks for sharing your story.

There were a couple of questions that came up.

First of all who diagnosed you as an "amnesiac" with dissociative disorder? Or rather what event has caused these illnesses? You don´t just get amnesia and then slowly recover.

And your family hiding pics so you don´t remember? Really?

There does not seem to be that much too your story, expect weird parents and a supposed talent for archery.

Maybe you just really want to be special?

Originally posted by WhiteAlice
reply to post by IkNOwSTuff

 

You didn't hear it then. Some people can't for whatever reason but a whole lot can hear him.

edit on 11/3/13 by WhiteAlice because: afterthought

And there we go. "Some" people can hear him and others can´t is code for you have to believe it. This just seems the normal socially akward teenage ramblings who tries to make sense of his being "different".

reply to post by WhiteAlice


i didnt run away, i just didnt come on the forums for a few days, >.>
your story is shocking. and what you managed to understand from the tape..........that sounds familiar in a way. it makes me think of new age stuff. but dont quote me on this.

when i hear stories of abused children, i get the feeling they were brought into this life because of some selfish parents. people that are not ready to become parents shouldnt get pregnant.. they have higher chances of abusing their kids.
in your case, it seems the abuse seems rather odd, more than abuse. i see it more like training. do you have any special ability or talent? like peeling potatoes really fast? (i know this sounds stupid, and maybe you have no use for it, but maybe you dont just have one talent/ability, but more of them) if you do, they might help you out when you least expect. *im NOT trying to troll you, nor to laugh at you, but if you like the conspiracy part of this whole situation you could look more into this as well*

reply to post by Nightaudit


i heard the voice in the recordings. am i weird? different? a teenage at 23 years old?
the voice is really low, and adjusting the speaker volume to louder, will help you hearing the voice. did i mention my hearing is pretty bad? of course, when the music starts, the voice is barely there

reply to post by Nightaudit


My issues with amnesia were initially observed through talking to a school guidance counselor. She prompted my parents to have them take me to a child psychologist to better assess the issue. I was diagnosed formally by a child psychologist as having diffuse childhood amnesia, dissociative disorder, and long stand PTSD emanating from childhood traumas. This diagnosis was confirmed by two other professionals as a young adult when I sought therapy to cope with the issues. I have not yet recalled the event hat led to the dissociative disorder or amnesia but, over the last year, started recollecting the innocuous stuff that got sucked into the amnesia black hole. What happened to me as a kid is as much of a mystery to me as it is to you. Perhaps that's why there isn't "too much" to the story or do you expect those with dissociative amnesia to be able to recall the events that initiated the disorder in the first place? Nor did I slowly recover. I spent over 30 years of my life having near total amnesia of the majority of my childhood. I was told by one of my therapists that my memories would most likely return and that it would either be a trickle or a flood. I flooded but, as I said, I still do not recall the traumas that occurred. I've given up on recalling those events at this point.

The only thing that I ever wanted in my whole life was to be normal and have a normal family--not a freak show living in a freak show family. Children of severe abuse do not feel special. They end up feeling worthless.

reply to post by Kryscent


I actually laughed really hard when you asked if I could peel potatoes very fast. Blazing fast actually. The reason for it is that my grandfather really did blend parenting with military. If I mouthed off or did something that he didn't like, it was either 20 laps around the cul de sac or peeling potatoes in the kitchen (he called it "KP" duty). He also considered me bullheaded so I did end up peeling a whole lot of potatoes. Hence why I'm so good at it, lol. I am not blazing fast at cutting up anything else though. Pretty typical there, lol. Like I said, I could get a little too sarcastic for my own good--hence the potato peeling talent. Pretty funny.

I've been told to look into them but I don't think that was necessarily what was going on. The tape is one thing but it's also perfectly reasonable that my grandfather would have had knowledge and access to such a thing if he chose to abuse that access for his own personal needs. As far as the feeling of it being training, I'd agree to an extent with the note that severe physical and emotional abuse also coexisted with it. My entire life was highly regimented and much of the interactions between my mother and grandfather both were more the detached teacher/student than parent/child. I think the reason why this scenario existed was because my grandfather's lifestyle, as a career military man, was very regimented itself as is necessary within the armed forces. If he found it beneficial as an officer, then he clearly was utilizing it at home. This would have set up the particular pattern of the detached teacher/student that he would have done with his own children and they would have potentially repeated with their offspring. Being labelled gifted by the educational system probably aggravated that in that it meant that they pushed harder and over more things. So there's the marksmanship stuff but languages, art, literature, music, and dance were also heavily pushed on top of an ungodly list of daily chores. So you see, my entire life was very regimented and pushed heavy on multiple diverse topics to "round me" and the more logical explanation would be that this was the pattern of parenting style that originated with my grandfather's career. That's a whole lot more plausible than my being a super soldier who also can stand en pointe and paint, lol.

PS. Also want to add that my grandfather had a severe inability of distinguishing between civilian and military. In his eyes, everyone was military. There were no civilians.

Wow. Whitealice your story makes me angry on so many levels. Angry that you have the amnesia and cannot remember your own childhood. Angry that no one in your family would assist you in remembering. Angry at CPS for having their double standard... i.e. backing down when it comes to high ranking people and the wealthy. Angry at your mother for not trying to break the cycle of abuse like you have chosen to do.

It also makes me curious.. Who what when where why how... Well, how is obvious.. subliminal messages. It must be so damn frustrating for you, considering its your life that you cannot remember. What age is the cut of for your amnesia? When do your clear memories start? First thought that popped into my head is you were allowed to be there when top secret research was taken place, or you were the ginie pig for it.

reply to post by WhiteAlice


From reading your opening post, sounds like you are on a journey to find yourself for what of a better way to describe it.

If you are ever seeking an answer to this type of thing, you cannot ask anyone or even a parent to tell you who you are or find answers by exploring your past.

The moment you expect things from other people in your life with answers, is the exact same moment that you limit your own potential to another human beings will.

Be yourself and forget what you believe others expect from you or what they demand or live a life trapped in false limitations.

What I mean in a nutshell. Nobody can ever tell you who you are, that is your choice to make through experiencing life. If you ever ask or demand anything from anyone else, you are limiting your choices to their judgements or vice versa if they choose your advice. This is why there are so many people who blame others for their lack of success and life choices. It is also why so many people are depressed too and feel trapped, they are of course but it is through a choice they do not see. See the choices in front of you for yourself and make them.

Just trying to help trigger a lightbulb in your mind and I say this having been through a lot of trauma in my past but overcoming it.

I do not have all the answers of course and that is my point, nobody does, just my thoughts and I hope you find your way.

wow , why would a family go to such lengths ??? its not ur typical abuse . do you have any insight as to why ??

reply to post by buffet of lies


It is terribly frustrating. I went through 30 years of life without being able to remember any Christmases or birthdays. I didn't remember how I learned to tie my shoes or even if I wet my pants as a little kid. I used to explain it to people that a person is like a tower which continuously is growing and whose childhood makes up the base. Mine is less a tower and more like a table because the base was virtually empty. I have managed to regain massive chunks of memory so that I do now remember things like learning how to ride a bike. The source of the blockage--that trauma that created it--nothing. Just body memories of feeling strangled and a deep fear of flickering light. The worst part has always been the lack of assistance from both my sibling and my father. I've had a stepmother apologize in the past about how horrible and traumatic my childhood was and it just made me livid because why is it that she has the right to know when it was my life in the first place. My sibling, on the other hand, considers my void a blessing because she remembers. It always makes me wonder who the hell they are protecting because it certainly never seemed to be me.

My memories, with the exception of one early childhood memory, began at age 13. I can remember who I sat by in my variety of classes in middle school so fairly pristine. The weird thing is that I have very clear recollection of nasty physical abuse from 13 and up. The fact that I could remember that abuse but not whatever drove me to the point of amnesia always perplexed me. Finding the tape may have solved that one but still not sure. I'd have to actually remember what it was that is still missing. I'm down to one year of life missing and it was the year that I lived with my grandfather--a year that was completely omitted from the "story" that my family always told me of where we had lived and when. It took threats of attempting to assure financial destruction and jail time to get that information so 1974-1975, I lived with my grandfather apparently but zero memory of that. I don't know what went on with me and yeah, the presence of the tape doesn't look good. I try to stay pragmatic but it's hard. There were lies about my birth certificate. There were omissions about where I was born (told it was a small town out in the middle of nowhere but it's actually a small town next to one of the largest bases in the US). I don't know what the truth is anymore and most days, I don't think I'll ever know.

Originally posted by blackz28
wow , why would a family go to such lengths ??? its not ur typical abuse . do you have any insight as to why ??

No clue at all. It is huge lengths and it is atypical. The way that I try to look at it is that I know my mother is clearly insane and while most people can be fairly predictable, that gets thrown out the window when you're dealing with someone who is significantly unstable. You never know what someone who is truly insane will do. If you think about other stories of abuse taht are out there, you can read about children being strapped to a potty chair (like Genie), locked in a cage, chained to a post--you name it. The degrees of sickness that can embody the word "parent" is pretty diverse. This could have been simply what a truly sick parent can do when they have access to wealth and power of a certain sort and the rest (sibling and father) could have been simply terrified enablers. At least that's what I think on my more charitable days. My charitability with them tends to wax and wane.

XXXN3O--Thank you. I do hear you loud and clear. My situation is definitely compounded due to physical disabilities that sometimes leave me bed bound. My body is a mess of errors and that imposes its own level of limitation on top of all of this. Means that I have to fight twice as hard to extricate. The pattern of my life was a continuous allowing them to dominate me and even when I ran away years ago, I still forgot what they are though, interestingly, my time living away from them made what they do and what they are even sharper. To borrow a line from "Amazing Grace", before I ran away, I was blind but, upon returning, now I see. My quest has been to find myself and to play judge and jury on them all. Getting to that point where you cut yourself off from all family is not an easy road even with a family like mine. It goes against human nature. As for who I am, I have never been more confident in that because whatever occurred in the past, I wouldn't change a thing because it brought me to who I am now and my most precious loves in my life. So rest assured, I'm halfway there. I just need to know who all was involved for one major reason--my children. My health is poor and they are not adults. Worse yet, my mother swore long ago that, should I die, she will fight for guardianship over them with everything she's got. Yet another reason why I seek hard evidence because I need to be assured that that will never happen.

all i heard was a song is that what your talking about please reply

reply to post by hunter212


No. May help to listen to the original song for contrast because, except under the quiet parts, he frequently sounds like a low murmur underneath the music. When you hear a man just talking in the quiet areas, that is not a feature of the song. This is what we could make out of his voice by trying to subdue the overlying music so you can perhaps better pick out what has been added underneath the song Dots represent inaudible portions.

doesn't make any difference what the experience was....might be something big, might be something small..might be something...something..it doesn't matter. absolutely related to...your job...or school......personal experience...get into as deeply as possible...what were you wearing? ...recall it as vividly as you can...just bury it...the pride...the justified pride that you have...this is power...it's good.

Original song: