Sections:

• Self-Victimization 
• Origin of My Low Self-esteem/ Growing Up
• Brand New Me
• Accepting Responsibility vs Blaming Yourself
• Related Posts & Pages  

Self-Victimization

I don't want to make excuses for myself, but I don't want to shoulder blame for what I didn't do either. It is another balancing act. I'm up for it! I was technically victimized multiple times throughout my life(I think most people have been, right?), and then I ended up victimizing myself. I don't say that to put myself down or to minimize the harm that was done to me by the bad choices other people made. 

I'm not saying I play victim. Sometimes someone does something bad to another person. They are the one responsible for doing that wrong and the resulting harm, and the person they wronged is responsible for how they respond once they realize what's going on and are able to begin stabilizing (trusting their reality again).

I do see how I've slipped back into a victim mentality ever since I got involved with my ex. Well, pretty sure I've always frequently visited that mentality..lol. Not intentionally! You likely know that trauma is usually caused my something horrible taking place that leaves the person exposed feeling shocked, hurt, in imminent danger, helpless.. You get the idea. 

If you've been hurt in a way that left you feeling like you had no control or hope to make things better..it is understandable that you could end up feeling helpless or like whatever incident(s) hurt you has somehow broken you beyond repair. So if you also sometimes feel like you get in a similar mindset, try not to be so hard on yourself over it please. You aren't a lost cause simply because you have seen and been through some shit! The human brain can only take so much, but it can also do incredible things— like heal! :)

I personally did not ever develop healthy ways to deal with my past or to manage negative emotions, so I ended up feeling like I was helplessly along for the ride of life without the ability to do much of anything to make things turn out better. 

That self-defeatist attitude. Sure, early childhood experiences did create the disordered ways of thinking I am steadily amending, but I have the power to choose to address them in a productive way instead of dragging myself back down to where certain incidents pushed me a long time ago. It's my responsibility to learn how to pull myself back up and stand my ground. 

I cannot control what others did/do wrong, or go back in time and inform myself of exactly what was taking place. I wish I knew back then, but I didn't! That was not my fault, but not taking control of my life once I 'woke up' would have been.

I still falter a lot. I slip back into a victim mentality whenever things are really stressful..like when I'm in an abusive relationship, dealing with the fallout, or I get really frightened.. But hey, I noticed I was doing it, didn't I? 🥳 I realize I need to find healthier ways to respond when things get difficult. I also realize that I'm capable of making choices to improve my circumstances. I'm no longer defenseless, I'm grown now! It's about time I start consistently believing it. I am determined to maintain balance. Life isn't easy for anyone. 

I may not have been taught how to self-regulate as a kid, but I can teach myself how to effectively cope with challenges now as an adult! That's awesome, because improvement is still possible. I don't have to just be sad about what I'm not good at, I can do something about it and continue pushing my life in a positive direction.

I try to recall and reflect on certain painful things that weren't my fault because of how intense my self-blame has always been. Yet, when I state the truth about how someone caused damage to my life, I feel like I am making excuses for my character flaws. That negative inner voice of mine needs to shut the hell up. So rude.😏 
 

Thankfully, human beings are remarkable and capable of amazing things. We can recover, learn, and feel. I'm learning to stop being a butthead to myself for failing to realize what was going on until I was completely lost in abuse during certain parts of my life. It happened. I also made bad choices too. 
 

Yep! I sure did screw up and even behaved poorly sometimes..but I'm still here, and my mind is a badass knocking out all the obstacles myself, situations, and others have thrown its way.

Parts of my past were out of my control, but I have control to make my own choices now as an adult. I know there are things that can be done. I was ok two years ago before this most recent relationship, and I will be even better than ok after it. 
 

I am not helpless. 
 

Bad things did happen to me, but they don't keep happening to me left and right. Yes, the situation with D.B. was very bad, but I had choices to make, and I chose incorrectly many times while he was around. I still know he is responsible for the abuse itself because he chose to commit against me, but I also know I was not truly helpless to do anything about it the entire time, I just thought I was. 
 

I made the wrong choice to let him back in over and over again when it always ended the same way. I made the wrong choice to rush into a relationship when I knew it seemed strange- it also felt incredibly good. I forgive myself and understand why I made those mistakes, but I still do know that I made them on my own. I had a choice to choose better, but I didn't. I mess up, and that is alright.

When I explain why I do something bad, I am not trying to excuse it or say because of my past, or because I'm triggered, or because of this and that it is suddenly no longer my fault if I screw up. NO. I know I am responsible for my mistakes, and I like to understand what led me to make them so I can make less of them in the future. 
 

There's always a reason...but me looking into the logic behind my poor decisions doesn't mean I'm not fully responsible for making them. When I went off on my ex's voicemail, that was wrong. I stated how I had the right to snap and spiral out of control..and I do, but that doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. I behaved badly. I know that I was disrespectful and hostile. I've known that the entire time. 
 

I simply no longer hate myself when I screw up, and I can have compassion towards myself and understand what thought processes led to my bad behavior. But the behavior was still mine. I did it. I shouldn't have. I feel really bad about it. I apologized. That's all I can do, so I have to let the guilt go instead of dwelling in how I failed.
 

I truly was 'triggered' when I snapped at my ex a few weeks ago and left bajillion hateful or sad messages, but me being triggered does NOT mean it is no longer wrong when I do something wrong. Does that make sense? I can't figure out how to word this. 
 

Explaining or looking into the reason I did something bad is not meant to excuse the bad I've done or to say that I'm not fully responsible for it. Hopefully one of those sentences conveyed the correct message. 😅 No matter how badly my ex has hurt me, I still know that his horrible mistakes don't give me a free pass to be a complete asshole. Although sometimes I definitely do act that way. That's wrong. 

I'll try to do better if that situation ever presents itself again. I don't know if it will, because when I'm extremely scared I tend to just run away or push what I'm scared of away. Oh gawd. Are those frickn' narcissistic defenses creeping up on me?? Nooooooo! Crap. I will have to find a way to fix that. No worries, everyone has some narcissistic traits..the 'narcissists' are just the unfortunate individuals who have a million of them and lack empathy, or run very low on it.. I'm not trying to be mean about that. I don't hate narcissists, I hate what they do because it hurts. Ok, back to the point-

I think it is fine to do whatever you have to do to fully accept the times things were truly out of your control..like when you were a child, or when someone physically forced you to do something against your will. 
 

To accept that you were once helpless is not a pleasant feeling because it can somehow seep over to present day and make you feel like you're still in that situation without any possible way to protect yourself or escape. 
 

Before D.B., I didn't understand a lot about my past. I knew that I was emotionally and verbally abused growing up, I knew I'd lived with a sociopathic boyfriend for a few years...but I didn't know anything about narcissistic abuse or the intricacies of abusive relationship dynamics. I didn't know the reasons behind the things I'd experienced, I only knew that I felt horrible. I don't think my mind ever realized what truly took place, or that not every painful situation was going to be as equally out of my control.
 

I had the ability to choose in many bad situations as an adult, but I chose poorly- and it shows.

I'm not glad D.B. mistreated me, but I am glad for what I learned after it ended. 

My abusive relationship temporarily changed my life for the worse, but then afterwards it became evident that my my life was actually going to end up being far better than it was before I met him. 
 

I am finally able to look back and make sense of years of abuse that I used to not even be able to recognize for what it was. Clarity.. 
 

His choice to abuse me stole my clarity in the present for a while, but my time with him taught me lessons that made the view of my past clear for the first time. 
 

Being able to discover what was wrong then, helps me know what my actual problems are so I can address them properly now. Another wonderful silver lining!

Origin of My Low Self-esteem

My confidence and self worth is shaky at times, but it used to be much lower than what it is today. There are endless stories about incidents within my family. I'm not going to attempt to write about more than a miniscule fraction of them. 

Narcissistic family systems are complex. There were many contributing factors to my poor development of self worth, and all of them were rooted in place during early childhood. Acknowledging the origin of my issues does not mean I am excused for behaving poorly or that my mistakes as an adult are the fault of my parents or any other abusers.

Understanding my past helps me work on myself and heal, but I by no means think my past is responsible for my failures and that I'm an innocent bystander watching disasters unfold. I have compassion and understand how I failed and made mistakes, but I'm fully aware that understanding why I did things wrong doesn't make them right. Me thinking I didn't have a choice as an adult and failing to choose for myself was a choice, the wrong one..and I made it repeatedly. I'm learning. :) 

A narcissistic family unit can produce children who can turn out 'normal', overly empathetic (sometimes codependent), or severely narcissistic. Isn't it strange how a lot of people victimized by narcissists as adults actually have a lot of things in common with the narcissist?! (in relation to their poor mirroring in childhood, traumatic experiences, and inner critic/shame). We simply cope with the madness in completely opposite ways for the most part, which is..problematic, to say the least. 

That makes me sad because it seems unfair. I know that's how life works, but still! My struggles have been really bad at times, but they aren't as hard to recover from as full blown narcissism. Why do I get to be more alright than he is?? That's not fair! He deserves to be alright just as much as I do. He's a person too. I digress..

I'll attempt to go in chronological order with this portion of my history. This is a long chaotic writing, so I will not be offended if nobody reads it. I needed to get some thoughts out my head today. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Here they are:

Growing up—

My parents have grown a lot as people due to age and hard life lessons, but I'm still going to acknowledge how their mistakes damaged their children..because that's the truth. I love them both and I'm proud of how they've worked on themselves. They are much more functional and soft in present day! I appreciate them and the good they do. The only hope for healing damage from the past is to face it-

My parents have always been..something else. They both grew up in abusive households, and both experienced a fair share of trauma that would break your heart. They grew up in an unhealthy way that harmed them, which eventually harmed their children too. 

I'm not going to get into the darker incidents because I don't want to go into another funk. I will try to simply list some examples of the subtle or bizarre nonsense that goes on in a narcissistic family system. I don't think it's rare these days. My childhood wasn't the most awful childhood one could've had, but I'm validating myself by admitting it definitely hurt me- a lot.

When my siblings and I were very young my mom took pictures of our bruises, especially my oldest sister because she got it the worst. Poor thing. My mom told my dad if he didn't stop being rough with us she'd use the evidence against him to get a divorce and custody. So, since even with all his troubles he didn't want to lose us, he stopped. 

We were loved and had good moments too.. But there was often complete chaos followed by everyone acting like we were functioning as a normal family. Unfortunately, whenever my parents weren't distracted by their anger towards each other, they usually shifted their focus to what wasn't good enough or acceptable about me. It sort of became a lifelong trend.

My relationship with my mom became noticeably strained when I was about seven or eight years old because I started to thicken up. My mom was always very bothered and vocal about my weight. She also made sure to speak up about how odd I must be due to my inability to make a lot of friends like my brother and sisters could. 

Geeze..I cannot imagine why an ashamed, depressed, unaccepted child (who felt that way because of being constantly guilt-tripped and belittled at home) would have such severe social anxiety that prevented her from being a bubbly, popular kid radiating with confidence.. Hmm? Still, what she criticized me for most was my weight.

I was a lot heavier as a kid than I am now. By the time I got to high school I was 80 pounds heavier than I am now at 31 years old. That's a lot for me because I'm barely 5'4". Being overweight, and eventually obese, wouldn't have had such a crippling effect on me when I was younger if I had not experienced shaming at home and school. 

That made it to where I never got a break from being around people who liked to let me know that I was gross, laughable, and unacceptable. It was far worse at home. Either way, the constant criticism was inescapable. I always felt ashamed and guilty for failing to measure up to her standards for how she wanted me to be.

I was barely overweight as a small child, but my mom expressed her 'concern' about it constantly. She was so bothered by the fact that I wasn't thin that extended family members even knew how she felt and would discuss what was wrong with my body while I was in the same room with them. 

It doesn't sound so bad, but it built and built. Just like with a narcissist.. it was a lot of little negative and covert things constantly piling up. When I say my mom was obsessed with my weight..I mean she was not ok with it. I knew how I looked made her rather upset. She was disgusted. That made me feel horrible.

In second grade I was out shopping for clothes with my mother. She let me pick out a few items I wanted to try on. I found a tank top I really liked!! Think it had a cute little cat on it and I loved cats at the time. When we got to the changing room she saw me smiling while I was in it being cute and goofy to show it off. She looked at me with this concerned expression and used a sad voice to inform me that she would not get it for me because I 'didn't have the arms for sleeveless shirts.'  

Around the same time my mom responded with embarrassment when my softball coach was mean to me during a practice game, instead of responding with anger over someone being horrible to her eight year old child. I begged to quit softball because my coach was a jerk and my mom had told me more than once how horrible I was at it and made fun of how I ran. Apparently it looked hilarious. When I let my parents know I wanted to quit, I was fussed at (shamed) for being lazy. I was told a lot of things about how horrible it was of me to even want to quit, especially since I needed the exercise.. I was informed how my desire to quit showed poor character.

When I was in the fourth grade she got so concerned with how fat she thought I was that she took me to see a specialist of some sort. I had to strip down to my underwear in front of them to get measured like damn livestock. Afterwards, the woman showed me and my mother a graph that compared my measurements to those of 'normal' kids my age. The doctor looked a little confused the entire time, because as it turns out, I was barely overweight at all. 

I was slightly chubby. (I'll add pictures of me as a kid for context shortly) That was it. I was not obese or large. My results barely hovered above the cut off for average on all the diagrams and graphs she showed us. So..my health was not poor or at risk and I wasn't abnormal. Stripping down was humiliating for me because I was already raised to be ashamed of my gross 'fat' body. Honestly, I didn't even become 'fat' until the end of middle school. I developed early. I was hefty in middle school..but I also looked 25 years old!😅

My gorgeous mother regularly showed off my sisters and brother. She bragged about them. She was upbeat when we were around people as long as my siblings were front in center..They made great grades, looked good, and were talented. But if I was the one getting noticed, I could see the embarrassment take over her face and hear the tone and wording she chose to skirt around issues while insulting me in a subtle way that would seem innocent to the people she was talking to. 

It felt like she didn't want to be associated with me. Kind of like a typical mean girl? She still does that sometimes..insults me to other people right in front of me, but she does so in a way that if I react I'll look insane and like I am blowing up for no reason because of all her covert manipulation. She's gotten way better about not being that way..but every once in a while it'll happen and I bite my tongue and pretend not to notice.

When I was 13 she took me to get a nice outfit for a wedding. I finally actually looked 'fat' by that age because the stress and shame of feeling fat led to me developing binge eating disorder. 

So anyway..We went shopping. I was in the dressing room trying on all the items she'd picked out. Once I got to her favorite one it was too tight for me to put on all the way. When I informed her through the door about it being too small, she was exasperated! She raised her voice and said "What size is that!?!?? A 13-14!? That's already huge enough and you can't even fit into that!!?!?" 

Keep in mind we were in Dillards at the mall.. She stormed off annoyed. I was an eighth grader..I was insecure enough already. It was humiliating. I stopped eating for a while. It didn't help. Although, she would get really excited when I'd temporarily slim down every once in a while and look prettier to her..Then she'd suddenly give me compliments and stopped looking as embarrassed of me. She'd be nicer to me. I noticed.

A lot of other things happened when I was 13. One of them being that my parents abruptly separated. The separation didn't last for more than a few months, but it was a mess. It started with my mother asking for a divorce because she was unhappy and said she only married my father because she'd gotten pregnant. She shared the entire detailed sob story with all her children explaining how cruel and controlling my dad was. 

My dad did the same thing by telling us how she was out of her mind with a mental illness. Initially after my mom asked for a divorce, my dad moved his stuff out of their room and he stayed at home for a few days. When he realized she wasn't changing her mind, he stormed out slamming the door. He sped away and turned off his phone. My mom immediately started scream-crying "What did I do!?!" over and over. My siblings and I had to comfort her on the floor of the living room as she hyperventilated and began to slip in and out of making sense. Me and my siblings were a wreck.

Our parents were not just fighting and getting a divorce..they were acting frighteningly unstable. We were all worried. We had immediately kept trying to reach my dad after he left because he said he was going to drive off a bridge or something as he'd stormed out of the house that night. 

When my eldest sister (who was 17 at the time) finally managed to reach our father I stayed in the room with her. I heard her pleading with him, and then I saw her collapse in a corner of her bedroom as she began to sob uncontrollably. Turns out, after he'd finished fussing and cussing about my mom being crazy he told he told my poor sweet saint of a sister that he was going to kill himself, and once she started begging him not to do it and told him how much she loved him and how much it would destroy her, he said "Bye --" hung up on her, and then turned his phone back off. .. I huddled against my devastated sister. It was a terrible night. 

We were hurt, confused, extremely worried that our dad may no longer be alive by morning. It was such a helpless and consuming feeling. We couldn't do anything but watch both of our parents implode. I saw pain all around me, and all I wanted to do was make it stop for everyone..but I couldn't. 

I couldn't help anyone be alright, I just had to watch people I love suffer and fall apart. It was horrible and had happened on a smaller scale off and on for our whole life. I ended up sleeping next to my mom that night because she was so lost and making no sense. I was genuinely worried that she might be gone by morning too. I couldn't console her. I tried my best.

We didn't hear from my dad until some time the next day. Things were rough. He went to my mom's place of work, our church, and to other people she cared about ..such us her family members and started telling them how she had snapped and lost her mind. 

He was saying how she must have borderline personality or something..and was having an 'episode'. He hacked her email and threatened to do things to humiliate her and ruin her name and keep her from being able to show her face anywhere again if she went through with the divorce.

Things settled down a few weeks later. My dad got an apartment right by my middle school. When I went to visit him he started talking about how unstable and fake my mom was. 

He supported his claims to prove he was right by telling me how she had just been over to his new place to have sex with him the afternoon before. He went into all kinds of other inappropriate detail and stories. 

As did my mom when I went home. I was 13 y'all.. It got worse, I assure you. But I'm going to stop that story there. They got back together. They are still together and have almost gotten divorced again two or three times since then. It doesn't get quite as dramatic anymore....just every five or ten years there's a big incident between the two of them. Some talk of my mom leaving my dad. blah blah. Or my kid gets treated badly. 

Anyway..back to my childhood-- The root of everyone's psychological problems. ha.

My anxiety worsened as all the madness going on around me kept picking up in intensity and occurring so frequently it felt like there was no calm. During my parent's separation their extreme behaviors, like the cruelty my dad showed to my mom because she tried to end the marriage on good terms, and so much more... 

When I was 13 I also discovered I had another brother. My dad had gotten a girl pregnant at 16 and had no idea because she lied to her boyfriend about it so he'd marry her. So um.. Understandably, I was very stressed and over everything overwhelming colliding in such a short amount of time.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't do anything right. I couldn't stop worrying because I was always being told something was wrong with me or that I was doing wrong to make their life harder. 

Something always needed to be fixed, but nothing ever was. I could never relax and I always felt like I was ruining something or being a huge disappointment just by being alive. 

I tried to be better, I really tried. Apparently, I turned out the worst out of all of my parents' kids. So.. that's ok. I'm not so bad.

When I entered high school my two sisters were cheerleaders and my brother a football player. My parents were so proud! My mom told me I could be 'a fox' if I would only let her give me a exercise and diet plan. She could fix me and make me good enough in no time! My parents offered me money to lose weight my sophomore year. 

One day I was crying and telling my mom how disgusting and deformed I thought my body looked. After letting her know which parts of my body I was the most ashamed of, she let me know I wasn't deformed! She did so by saying that the ugly parts of me were only ugly looking because of all the fat on them. So..instead of comforting me and telling me I was beautiful as is, she confirmed I did indeed look disgusting, but not because I was deformed..just because I was a fat slob.

She'd get aggravated if she caught me eating a piece of cheese because she said it was like I was willingly taking 'fat pills' when I was already overweight. I'd go back and forth with my eating disorders..either anorexic/ bulimic or binge eating. Over and over. 

I hated myself for still being disgusting, making crappy grades, letting my parents down by being the 'bad' one out of their kids. I was wanting to be put out of my misery nearly every day of my high school career. I became so miserable that I couldn't hide it. 

Instead of my parents responding with compassionate concern when it became obvious I was becoming increasingly depressed, they responded with frustration and anger that I was putting them through having to deal with it.

My parents couldn't understand why I had developed such horrid depression and anxiety..They couldn't imagine why after a lifetime of being belittled, shamed, rejected, and gaslighted I had begun to feel completely worthless and hopeless. I saw no hope at all. 

I hated myself with a passion.I was molded to feel that way...then the people who taught me to see myself the negative way I did acted like it had nothing to do with their missteps and instabilities..Nope. I was simply defective and crazy. 

I was miserable because I was doing something wrong, because something was wrong with who I am. I was no good. I was their frustrating little black sheep that they painted that color and then convinced themselves I was born with black wool. 

That was easier for them to accept as reality than to admit they had made serious mistakes and caused damage with severe consequences. No..it was me. I ruined me and then burdened my poor parents with how badly I was suffering. All their daughters having bad anxiety and body dysmorphia is just a coincidence. Cough.

I thought I was hurting my parents and that all the kids at school who picked on me did so because of how gross and annoying I must have been to look at..I felt like I was an eyesore on top of everything else I loathed myself for doing wrong. 

I didn't understand what was wrong with me. I believed my parents assessment that I was simply crazy, dishonest, attention craving, and too unintelligent to ever end up anywhere in life. I believed I was hideous inside and out. 

I thought all the helplessness and anguish I felt was something I was doing wrong. As if I felt that way for no reason...There was something wrong with me, but it wasn't my fault..it was theirs. They failed me and then told me I'd done it to myself..just like all my romantic partners would go on to do..Abuse me and blame me for it until I believed it was exactly what I deserved.

I grew up being told I needed to change so much about myself to be good enough/stop being a bother, while they were also telling me I would never be able to change because something was way too messed up with my head. I was told I was crazy for so long that I went crazy. 

They convinced me numerous times that I was completely insane. Sound familiar y'all???? What kind of personalities do that?? You know the answer.. I grew up with two of those people, and had no idea what was going on. I didn't understand why I felt like my mind was in hell. I thought I was being crazy because my homelife was 'easy' and good according to my parents.

They twisted me into the problem, instead of owning that they both were the actual problem for being abusive and unfit parents. The couldn't see that, they focused on seeing me as completely broken and bad instead. I was causing them to act out because I was so awful that I stressed them out. "That's your bitch!" my father said to my mother as he walked off during a disagreement we were having because I was nearly standing up for myself. 

 Instead of owning their flaws and working on them, they chose the 'worst' kid out of their children, the fat one, to be the object of blame, ridicule, and well..their projections.

I've been a object for someone's projecting and blame-shifting my entire life I always blamed myself for why I was miserable. I was guided to blame myself for their failures as parents. 

Their emotional abuse and upsetting behavior didn't cause issues and mess things up-I did. I was such a burden..but they made sure to let me know they loved me anyway and would still stick around and always put up with me. I believed them. I hated me. 

I gave up on everything I tried and then gave up on trying at all. I blamed myself for everything and accepted all the horrible things I was being told and shown I was by people in the only type of interpersonal relationship I'd ever known. One in which I'm being walked all over and jabbed at until I scream out, just so I can then be shamed and blamed for making an unpleasant noise.

One day I hid in my walk-in closet instead of catching the school bus because I couldn't handle being around other people who were going to bully/scrutinize me for being fat and too 'emo' that day. I got picked on a lot for my weight and for being so depressed. 

That's right, kids made fun of me and were mean to me because I was sad..because that makes sense? They told me I was acting miserable to get attention..I wasn't acting at all. I didn't want attention, I wanted for nobody to ever see me again. I wanted to die.  I was so exhausted and defeated.
 

My parents discovered I’d skipped school later that morning. I opened up about why I didn’t want to go to school. I let them know how sad and anxious I was. I told them how embarrassed I was to let people see me. I only expressed I was having bad social anxiety that day and wanted to stay home in order to avoid getting bullied.. 

So, they promptly put me in a psychiatric ward for a week. Which wasn't great for my confidence. It reinforced my belief that they were right and I was crazy and not as I should be. I was evaluated and diagnosed with severe clinical depression. (which later turned out to actually be my budding CPTSD 🤦🏻‍♀️) They put me on Zoloft.

When I was still sad a few months after starting the antidepressants, my parents once again couldn't reflect on their role in how their child was turning out..instead they accused me of being on drugs and sleeping with some skater dude. FYI- I was a virgin, and had never done drugs of any sort at the time. Their accusations hurt and made me feel even worse that they thought I'd do something like that. And on and on and on. 

I felt so ashamed of myself, confused, and stressed. I couldn't stop hurting, but hurting so badly was making me hurt more because of the reaction I got from my parents. My heart felt so alone, unwanted, unworthy, and useless. So I understand why I wanted it to stop breathing back then. 

Things just kept getting worse and worse. I was stuck. I didn't know about narcissistic abuse or any abuse back then..I was a kid raised in it without knowing what it was. I truly hated myself for my failure to be happy, and to be good enough to make my parents proud or at least less upset with me.

I eventually moved out after my dad hacked my phone and Facebook to message the few friends I had. He did that because I told him I was staying out one night at a friend’s house. I was 20 years old at the time, working, in college and well behaved. 

My Dad told me to come home, but I told him I was going to be home in the morning instead. So he responded by trying to track me down by hacking my phone. I got a notification that my phone's location was being tracked. I snapped and moved in right away with the man I'd just become friends with through a mutual friend.
 

My dad called my boyfriend shortly after we got together. I was able to listen to the conversation. My father told him that he didn't know me like they do! That something was seriously wrong with me mentally, and that he was going to end up having to deal with it. 

I'm serious..My own dad called my boyfriend to inform him that he had no idea what horrible mess he was getting himself into by choosing to be with me.. Hearing that on top of everything else is what made me determined to stay gone. Before I knew it, I was stuck living with my first abusive partner for over two years. Oops.-

Brand New Me 

The mess in my head and heart kept getting bigger and bigger until my son was born. I fought like hell to become a stronger person. I did become stronger. Denial regarding home helped, but I put in so much work into learning to love myself and not worry about how bad I was told I was anymore, because all that mattered to me was making sure my son was ok. 

Once I had him to focus on I had a purpose for the first time. Slowly I began to realize I mattered too and had a purpose beyond being his mother.. I basically finally realized I mattered and deserved to be loved and appreciated the same way I'd want someone to love my baby boy. 

I grew so much y'all. And shrunk too..ha. I went from a size 18 to a size 8. I changed drastically between years 2012-2020. I built and felt confidence for the first time in my life! I found myself, or a lot of me that I had hidden from everyone and even denied to myself that it existed because I'd previously believed all I was or could ever be was what the people I loved told me I was.
 

My confidence now, as wobbly as it can be, is so much better now than it used to be. I was always hidden and ashamed, even physically. 

As a teen I wore a jacket year round no matter how hot. I stayed socially withdrawn because I felt unworthy of everyone else. I'd panic when people could see too much of my body because I thought I was a disgusting and unacceptable thing. 

I believed I was that for my entire childhood and up until the age 22.. I became happy. I annoyed some people with my talkative and perky nature..but I had been miserable for so long that I didn't want to contain how happy I was because I was so appreciative that I was finally able to be happy after thinking I never would be!

After I became a stronger, happier, more aware version of myself I went about my business. Before all my hard work between ages 22-30, I'd never felt good enough for anyone, or capable of doing anything at all..even things as simple as school, opening a checking account, or driving without getting lost. I honestly believed I was helpless and destined to be a crazy failure who needed to be taken care of my someone more competent. 

It took a massive amount of will power to start rewriting all the bullshit and darkness I'd always known..but I did it. I was still doing it when I met D.B. The fact that I was talkative, happy, dressed sexy and just..practically a whole new person than who I'd been roughly eight years prior..it was a miracle that I was still alive, but I was more than that.. I was also thriving in comparison to my past! I was on my way!

So..When I got abused again...It shook me right back down to the broken little girl and young woman I used to be. 
 

It was the most painful and difficult thing I've ever experienced..to be pulled back down into that horrid place I'd clawed my way out of after having been trapped under all its darkness for the first 22 years of my life. 
 

To do all of that tedious work to break free and become who I was meant to be, just to then have it all destroyed so unexpectedly.. All because I trusted someone who ended up treating me like my past did, but worse. 
 

It was terrifying to be back in a mindset I had forgotten I used to live in. I didn't remember how wretched it felt because I'd been doing well for years..

So once I was pulled back into it, I was frozen and began to disappear again as I morphed back into being that shell of a person who lived to appease others and hate herself for failing to ever be enough, despite all her effort.

The man I loved after keeping to myself and rebuilding myself, he really hurt me. 

I only wanted someone to love me the way I love everyone else. I liked him a lot, he said he cared so much for me. Then when he started telling me how bad of a person he thought I was and he kept rejecting me, and abandoning me over and over..I just.. A part of me truly did die from that, because my heart couldn't handle it. 

I have issues, but my heart is massive and how I love is pure. To open that to someone finally, and to actually allow myself to be vulnerable to a man I thought I could trust just to be treated like I was horrible worthless trash....that hurt worse than I will ever be able to articulate--

And the pain from the main discard… when he left me like I was worse than horrible on his birthday.. he left me behind like I was nothing. 

I wanted to transform into nothingness when D.B. did that to me. He meant the world to me. I thought he was going to appreciate and love me..he said he would. But then he hated me for no reason and his cruelty and manipulations made me hate myself again. 

It was bad. 

I'm proud to be the woman I am now. I may have issues and imperfections, but I know I am resilient and that my heart is good. So..I have a lot to be proud of. I could've easily let myself become cruel or given up. I haven't done either. I never will.

Once I became knowledgeable about narcissistic abuse, many of the patterns throughout my history made sense.. I finally understood my first abusive boyfriend and why things felt and impacted me the way they did. His behaviors also started to make sense in this proper context, whereas before it was a big blur. 

More importantly, I finally understood why my childhood felt so horrid. The abuse I experienced with D.B. made me open up about something I never looked into before because I didn't think that part of my past was 'bad enough' to be worth sorting through. Denial. That's what that was.

I'm grateful that after being alive for 30 years, I was finally able to see all the pain I experienced growing up wasn't because I was a bad, defective person. It was a revelation I likely would've never had if I had not been in my toxic relationship with D.B. 

Knowing what caused problems for me started in childhood doesn't make it correct for me to do wrong in present day. 

My siblings and I have had many discussions throughout the years regarding our upbringing. We've always be in aggreance about the abuse being present, but the complexities were not understood until I learned about Cluster B personality disorders. narcissistic abuse, and narcissistic family systems. I'm so thankful to understand now.
 

Accepting Responsibility vs. Blaming Yourself

Now that some time has gone by since the main bulk of the abuse took place, I am able to reflect on my power to choose and develop ways to make better choices in the future. 

However, my priority during and immediately following the abuse was not reflecting on my mistakes and flaws. My focus was on surviving, understanding what happened to me, and then placing responsibility for the abuse where it actually belonged. 

There are a few reasons a victim of abuse probably should not focus on their own weaknesses and missteps within the relationship during the early stages of recovery.

Firstly, an individual who's endured abuse is drowning in self-blame and negativity.. largely thanks to the abuser's gaslighting and other ruthless methods that severely impact cognition. 

Secondly, no mistake an abuse victim made, nor character flaw they possess, is responsible for why somebody chose to abuse them. The abuser abused, they alone are responsible for their damaging actions towards the target of their rage. 

Lastly, if you are being/or have been abused, your reality is a mess. Narcissistic abuse is extremely complex and shocking. It is not easy to digest, especially in a mentally vulnerable state. It can take quite some time for an abused individual to accept what truly took place. 

In my opinion, only after someone has fully accepted what took place, learned they are not to blame for the abuse itself, and has healed enough to regain reasonable stability….THEN they can expand their focus to include beginning to address their role in the relationship. Ideally not until they've developed skills to do so in a compassionate manner without shifting blame for the wrong that was done to them back to themselves.

My mind kicked in automatic responses to his manipulation and cruelty. I did what I felt had to be done in order to survive psychologically. I was never able to calm down enough to reflect on exactly what was going. I was too panicked, afraid, hurt, confused.. 

My mind was not functioning at full capacity..not anywhere near it. Cognitive dissonance within abuse is a beast. There is a reason so many abuse victims stay with their abusers long after the abuse starts. 

The reason is not that all abuse victims are horrible, weak people who cannot make good choices. It is because we are vulnerable to narcissists. Anyone a narcissist is able to get their hooks into will end up getting emotionally and psychologically fucked up by the narcissist.

Once they get you sucked into their twisted world, thinking clearly is not truly an option. They are naturally highly manipulative. They make you feel and respond exactly how they want you to. 

Once you no longer understand what is going on and doubt yourself completely, its easy to figure out why people get 'stuck.' I wrote about my personal experience with getting sucked into this inescapable confusion on my post Pathetic Rants. 

You truly feel helpless. Abuse causes your clarity and grasp on reality to become minimal or nonexistent. You lose all trust in yourself. I do not blame myself for abuse I endured as a child, or abuse I endured as an adult. I know I did make some poor choices that made me more vulnerable. or placed me in a position to be harmed. 

However, no matter what wrong decisions I did make, I did not ask for the abuse or do it to myself. I am not responsible for the abuse, the abuser is.

If you no longer trust your perception of reality or believe you have the ability to know and do anything right..how the heck are you going to do much of anything!? I don't blame myself for anything within the first part of my relationship with D.B. leading up to his birthday/main discard. Well, other than with my poor choice to jump into a relationship with a stranger. 

The gaslighting was so intense. His lack of empathy allowed him to lie to me nonstop. He did so to get me to see he and our relationship the way he wanted me to in order for him to get whatever it was he wanted, and only whenever he wanted it. 

I had no idea what was going. I believed the story he told me, and when his cruel attacks didn't match up, my mind continuously collapsed in on itself. He never cared about the damage his fakery was causing. He twisted my world. How I viewed our relationship was all designed by him, and I now believe at least 90% of it was complete fiction.

How easily can someone make a choice to escape abuse or to stand up for themselves when they don't trust their own thoughts or reality anymore?? It isn't a matter of willpower or upstanding character.. To expect someone who has no understanding of what narcissism/narcissistic abuse is to make sound decisions whilst they are enduring it, is like asking someone who is temporarily insane to possess a sane viewpoint amidst their psychosis. 

I'm not saying victims of narcissistic abuse are insane, but a lot of us definitely get pushed pretty close to it throughout the hell that this abuse is. I had some mental breakdowns..quite a few. 

The abuse D.B. put my through was horrific. That's the best way to describe it briefly. I have a few words to describe it though, as usual. The abuse he dished out was, confounding, exhausting, excruciating, isolating, frightening, devastating, and traumatizing. 

It temporarily destroyed my hope and belief in everything I used to cherish. Everything that used to give me security became doubted, and thus, useless. I was left suffering and completely resigned.

Narcissistic abuse is no joke. The manipulation is so extreme and bizarrely inhumane that individuals who have not experienced it are unable to understand the severity of it. This leads to some people being very quick to judge the targets of abuse just as harshly (if not more harshly) than the abusers. 

The complexities and depravity this abuse entails is so misunderstood and damaging that I compiled a lot of information pertaining to it in one location. That's what this webpage is, I created it to spread awareness and support others as I work through my own mess. 

There are so many layers to narcissistic abuse that my website doesn't even cover all of it, regardless of how large it has gotten.

Narcissistic/psychopathic abuse is a major violation that leads to the total destruction of your mind. You cannot get anymore personal than that, or harm someone's entire being on deeper level. Your psyche and spirit are the core of who you are. For someone to violate, attack and dismantle all you are, is absolutely disgusting. It's devastating, and has ruined/ ended countless lives. It is serious.

When an abuser says it is your fault, or that the abusive hell he unleashed upon you was both of your doing... Well, that's just additional gaslighting, invalidation, and blame-shifting. It's more covert emotional abuse, whether it's done intentionally or not. 

Abusers are toxic, they will make you doubt yourself, blame yourself, and eventually hate yourself if they stick around for any amount of time. The way my ex recently spoke about how we simply 'couldn't get along' made me feel like I'd stepped into the twilight zone. 

He truly seemed to think dropping a casual 'we just are too different' approach regarding the abuse that he put me through was appropriate and logical..It wasn't. It was a subtle way to shift some blame for his horrible actions back my way.

No sir. Just because my flaws and poor choices landed me in your arms, doesn't mean I am responsible for all the wrong YOU DID once I was there. 

Not losing sleep over such nonsense ever again. I wasn't mad when he said what he said. He wasn't exactly being his most ruthless. It was nothing new. It just felt like denial and desperation to believe his version of things was the true reality. 

His denial didn't piss me off, it made me sad. I'm sad because I want him to do better. I want him to learn from his mistakes and grow into the man I know he could be..but if he cannot even admit to himself that he and his abuse caused the relationship to be what it was..(abusive and damaging) then how can he start moving in a better direction?

I didn't make him abuse me ..He stated that we 'fed each other's issues' and that it led to chaos. He had a valid point there, he has made many valid points over the past two years, he's no idiot. But once more, the one he made wasn't relevant. 

We didn't simply 'want different things' and 'not get along'..he ABUSED me horribly and heartlessly. My behavior ('feeding him') did not cause the abuse. I did not cause or create the abuse I endured.. HE DID. And if he can never fully accept and own that..he'll remain firmly planted in the ground, blocking his own way. That's a real shame. 

I know I've shared all his worse qualities on this website..because this website is about the hell that narcissistic abuse is..but y'all..As unhealthy as it was for me to admit this back when I was trying to break free..I have to tell you..he is a person deep down in there behind those toxic defenses.. It doesn't change anything or mean I can be with him, or that the abuse doesn't count if he isn't 100% pure evil. 

No matter his reasons, the outcome is the same. He could do so much better, and be so much more. I wrote about why I care about abusers a while back here: Caring for the Careless. It is a dangerous place to be, to have empathy for someone lacking it. Be careful if you struggle with finding that balance, like I usually do. I'm working on it.

I can own my mistakes and take responsibility for my life, but I will not hold myself accountable for something another person did to me. I could've chosen better. I could've escaped the cycle sooner(cut off all contact after the Hoover 1, instead of giving in and enabling Hoovers 1,2,3,4,5,6,& 7 🤦🏻‍♀️..). I didn't go No Contact as soon as I should have. I have compassion as to why, but it was a bad choice that I made. I messed up..but you know what...that still doesn't change the fact that I didn't commit the abuse, the abuser did.

I am responsible for my failures and bad decisions, my ex is responsible for his. He chose to abuse me. He did that wrong to me. I didn't, no matter how much he likes to insinuate I brought all the pain he inflicted upon myself...nor how much he likes to minimize the severity of the hell he put me through. I know what is true now, and that's all that matters. 

I can work on myself, accept my failures, and do better no matter what version of things my ex believes in. His perception of reality no longer alters mine.