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Weird childhood

my butler refused to cup my balls in the morning



While I'm not familiar with that book I have mixed feelings about this business of addressing childhood shame & experiences. I dated a woman who was repeatedly abused by her uncle and a few times by her dad and was going through the process of addressing that abuse while we were together. While I abhor abusers and do sympathize for those who've been abused as a child I do believe more harm can be done continually ripping the scab off by readdressing the abuse.



What a polite way to tell us we're all misfits.

Not saying to pretend it didn't happen but I'm also not into a culture of victimhood. I'd go to group therapy sessions with the ex and me and the other dudes there were literally hated by the counsellor and the other women just because we were men. The ex would also go to quacks, one had the theory that bad memories/experiences were stored in parts of your body. So he'd massage her left big toe with the claim it would release the trauma of her uncle diddling her and her right kneecap for when her father did it (I'm just picking random body parts but that was his game, I think it was just a scam to touch vulnerable chicks).

Does what happen often?
Sounds like your ex had a shit experience (not great for you either).

It’s all about how you explain childhood factors and how you get the person to think about it. Going over the trauma repeatedly doesn’t usually help. I use what I’ve learned from Healing The Shame That Binds You, my personal and my professional experience to explain how certain childhood factors lead to the adult emotions/ mind, but adapt for the person I’m dealing with. Where appropriate, I’m honest about my own story with patients and use that to help them see a way of managing things.

Repressing past ‘shit’ leads to poor mental and physical health (due to hormonal stress response). Dealing with it properly, in a way that suits the individual, grieving any ‘lost’ childhood, learning to let the ‘shit’ go and then ‘parent’ your own emotions to allow them to mature is a good way of living a happier and calmer life. The problem is the majority of ‘therapy’ is too general and doesn’t cater for enough adaptation for the individual patients. There is often too much emphasis on a medical model and of the use of medications which often don’t help, which is how I was trained (but don’t practice it).

Since my journey through addiction, rehab, recovery, neurodiversity (ADHD diagnosis) and the learning I have gained, I find I can get 90% of mental health patients to see things in a different way to help them get themselves better. The other 10% are too far gone or just don’t wish to engage with any discussion.


For me, learning that I am the only person that can make me angry, anxious, sad or happy was one of the key points to being truly happy. I am the one that chooses how to react to an external stimulus, and can’t blame factors I can’t control for my own reaction. Therefore, with that in mind, I’ve learned to let ‘shit’ go and not hold on to it. I’ve also learned to observe my minds emotional responses rather than always feel and act upon them. My mind says “for fucks sake” a lot. I used to feel a tension and then say it out loud. I now (most of the time) let my mind say “for fucks sake”, appreciate it is trying to help me, smile and not react.

I sometimes consider different stories for the triggers, like when someone cut me up driving the other day I chose to imagine they had a sick kid in the car as the children’s hospital was up the road. They drove past it so I laughed but then they pulled into the cancer hospital a little further along the road which could have explained their erratic driving. My mind initially screamed all sorts of shit at the driver 😂, but not reacting and making up the story kept me calm.

I got that idea from this amazing speech, which I strongly recommend giving a listen…




Big thanks to @Racist Bastard for starting this thread. Honestly, you have done an amazing thing here and I hope the ongoing conversation helps, it’s a positive help for me!
 
I would kick his ass if i was you and make him pay.
Also i would make him pay his money 🤣
When I was 9 he took me “fishing” he started the boat and I was right next to the throttle. When he went to pull up the front anchor I waited till it was in his hand then I gunned the motor.(I knew he couldn’t swim) so he fell in but when he fell he dropped rope from the anchor that fell back in and he grabbed it and held on until I finally stopped. I was gonna just drive off to the first ramp I seen and say my “dad” fell in. But instead I got the fuck beat outa me.
I never expected so many of you guys to actually care. I figured y’all would make fun of me of call me a fag. There is soooo much more I could tell you . The thing I never could understand is Why he/they wanted me to hear /see that nasty stuff?
 
I can't speak for everyone on this site, but I also had a fucked up childhood. You could have gotten him locked up for abusing you.
I should have and I could have but when your a kid and you can plainly see that your on your own you feel powerless.
When I was a kid starting at 5 my parents divorced. We (sister ,me, mom) moved 8hours away. From the beginning I could tell that he hated my guts. But my mom was happy. And he was rich. He was the most spiteful person I’ve ever known. He too great pleasure in seeing me hurt. But he never put a mark where my mom would see. Except the time he got to carried away and left hand prints around my throat. When my real dad died as I was rolling on the floor bawling he graver me by the arm and jerked me in front of him and said. Stfu what are you gonna do cry all fuckinv day! He’s dead get over it. At that point he decided that couldn’t go to the funeral. My mother stood by him in any punishment. He had 4 daughters. Every Christmas they would come we would all eat and then everyone got there gifts. All the girls would get an envelope with $5000 in it and a card and I would get absolutely nothing. I just wanted to right that to let you know kinda how my life was at the time but here’s what I really wanted to say and I wanna know why they did it.. my step dad and mom would lay around on the couch and obviously out in the open in front of me (6,7— ) and fondle each other with there feet under clothes. And then they would go to there bed ( middle of the day) and fuck EXTREMELY LOUD and I know they knew I could hear. This happened for years . They hated me they would make me go to bed t 5 pm.
Fuck I kinda wanted to do tho anon. Clad I didn’t say more
They would leave the door open and NOBODY is that loud and descriptive
Also I thought there was an anonymous option I could have explained things better. I read it again and it’s pretty tame
 
I should have and I could have but when your a kid and you can plainly see that your on your own you feel powerless.

Also I thought there was an anonymous option I could have explained things better. I read it again and it’s pretty tame
I know this is an old post but its my first time reading it, and just wanted to say I feel you. My biggest question also about shit that went down in my childhood is WHY. My parents being abused as kids isn't a good enough excuse for me. I've never once abused my kids, or animals, even though I grew up seeing and experiencing both. The loud obvious sex thing, I experienced that too, and it only made me hypervigilant that my kids would never, ever experience the same thing. Experiencing those things never once made me want to do them to another person or animal, never once. And although for whatever fucked up reason I am attracted to human gore anything where an animal is even hurt will make me physically ill, and trigger some pretty awful flashbacks. I can't even watch movies like Marley and Me or Homeward bound without being sent down a trigger spiral.

So I think, instead of asking why they were like that, try asking a different question. Ask this instead. Why didn't you turn out like them? And own the answer. Because you are strong, because no matter what they did to you your true spirit could not be crushed, and because you DID fight back, in the most important way possible, you did not let the monsters turn you into one yourself. Because that above all else is what they surely wanted, and they will never, ever have it.

Hugs.
 
When I was a kid starting at 5 my parents divorced. We (sister ,me, mom) moved 8hours away. From the beginning I could tell that he hated my guts. But my mom was happy. And he was rich. He was the most spiteful person I’ve ever known. He too great pleasure in seeing me hurt. But he never put a mark where my mom would see. Except the time he got to carried away and left hand prints around my throat. When my real dad died as I was rolling on the floor bawling he graver me by the arm and jerked me in front of him and said. Stfu what are you gonna do cry all fuckinv day! He’s dead get over it. At that point he decided that couldn’t go to the funeral. My mother stood by him in any punishment. He had 4 daughters. Every Christmas they would come we would all eat and then everyone got there gifts. All the girls would get an envelope with $5000 in it and a card and I would get absolutely nothing. I just wanted to right that to let you know kinda how my life was at the time but here’s what I really wanted to say and I wanna know why they did it.. my step dad and mom would lay around on the couch and obviously out in the open in front of me (6,7— ) and fondle each other with there feet under clothes. And then they would go to there bed ( middle of the day) and fuck EXTREMELY LOUD and I know they knew I could hear. This happened for years . They hated me they would make me go to bed t 5 pm.
Fuck I kinda wanted to do tho anon. Clad I didn’t say more
They would leave the door open and NOBODY is that loud and descriptive
He was lucky I wasn't the stepkid. I'd have put that motherfucker in the ground.
 
I know this is an old post but its my first time reading it, and just wanted to say I feel you. My biggest question also about shit that went down in my childhood is WHY. My parents being abused as kids isn't a good enough excuse for me. I've never once abused my kids, or animals, even though I grew up seeing and experiencing both. The loud obvious sex thing, I experienced that too, and it only made me hypervigilant that my kids would never, ever experience the same thing. Experiencing those things never once made me want to do them to another person or animal, never once. And although for whatever fucked up reason I am attracted to human gore anything where an animal is even hurt will make me physically ill, and trigger some pretty awful flashbacks. I can't even watch movies like Marley and Me or Homeward bound without being sent down a trigger spiral.

So I think, instead of asking why they were like that, try asking a different question. Ask this instead. Why didn't you turn out like them? And own the answer. Because you are strong, because no matter what they did to you your true spirit could not be crushed, and because you DID fight back, in the most important way possible, you did not let the monsters turn you into one yourself. Because that above all else is what they surely wanted, and they will never, ever have it.

Hugs.
Thanks
 
When I was a kid starting at 5 my parents divorced. We (sister ,me, mom) moved 8hours away. From the beginning I could tell that he hated my guts. But my mom was happy. And he was rich. He was the most spiteful person I’ve ever known. He too great pleasure in seeing me hurt. But he never put a mark where my mom would see. Except the time he got to carried away and left hand prints around my throat. When my real dad died as I was rolling on the floor bawling he graver me by the arm and jerked me in front of him and said. Stfu what are you gonna do cry all fuckinv day! He’s dead get over it. At that point he decided that couldn’t go to the funeral. My mother stood by him in any punishment. He had 4 daughters. Every Christmas they would come we would all eat and then everyone got there gifts. All the girls would get an envelope with $5000 in it and a card and I would get absolutely nothing. I just wanted to right that to let you know kinda how my life was at the time but here’s what I really wanted to say and I wanna know why they did it.. my step dad and mom would lay around on the couch and obviously out in the open in front of me (6,7— ) and fondle each other with there feet under clothes. And then they would go to there bed ( middle of the day) and fuck EXTREMELY LOUD and I know they knew I could hear. This happened for years . They hated me they would make me go to bed t 5 pm.
Fuck I kinda wanted to do tho anon. Clad I didn’t say more
They would leave the door open and NOBODY is that loud and descriptive
And uh yeah....you should have just left bitch. Be a big man and get your own shit. Unless you're too big of a pussy to get your own rent. Just saying man, stick that dick in your pants and get a fucking place. You fucking bitch.
 
I know this is probably isn’t the place but I don’t know how to start a new thread either way I had a suggestion if anybody can put it in the right place for me we should do a category for pictures of Gore with law-enforcementThey probably don’t release much photos or video uncensored stuff but I guess it’s worth a try I don’t know
 
my moms second husband was a spiteful prick. id piss in his gas tank. and id open the propane tank and let it empty out. this was before they had the safety valves they have now. id leave the gate of the yard open so his dog would get out. then disappear for hours and not come back till 9-10 at night. i wanted to break them up. added strain to their relationship. but it didnt work. id do whatever it took to make him hit me. because i knew if i told my dad that moms bf hit me, that cock sucker would be dead. he hated kids. especially us. he just wanted mom for himself. and she too, wanted me out of the picture. so i ran away and lived out in the desert for a few weeks till my dad came to get me. when i went back to the pricks house,she was like, "oh your back".
but i got her back the day i left. i think? grabbed the last of my shit and walked right past her and out the door. all the while she just stood there. i didnt say one fucking word. got in the u-haul with dad and left arizona. went back to new york.
she was married to him for only a few yrs. i found out she was divorced from one my brothers. not like i gave a fuck because i havent (at that time) spoken to the birther in about 10 yrs. she made no attempt. yes i did. but never got a response. so i stopped. she didnt send bday cards or xmas cards. id talk to my brother and hed ask, "you going to ask about mom?"
"nope. why? she ask about me?"
 
i'll take a go at this: it all started out as a bar fight in Tijuana, that's not it, here's the real story: i grew up in my grandfather's house with him and my step-grandmother.
she didn't like me and wanted me out. i always had jobs as a teen. one day i went to my room and the bed is stripped! i asked her where the sheets were, she said i had wet the bed! the next day, the same thing.
before going to bed on the 3rd day i took my most precious possessions, a camera, 2 lenses, a couple of books and balanced them on the bed. that night i slept on the floor, if i had wandered onto the bed my balanced possessions would be knocked over.
i woke up and my things were still intact on my bed. i removed my items from the bed and made it look "slept in." sure enough, the bed is stripped - again! i told her about balancing my items on the bed and i knew what she was doing. her brain short-circuited and she just mumbled as she left my room.
i was outta there at 17yo.
fast-forward 30yrs - she's in a nursing home with Alzheimer's, her brain is mush and wonder of wonders, she's wearing an adult diaper! i lean in and say "look who's wetting the bed now!"
she died and i found her grave. i hacked up mucous, saliva, probably some lung tissue and let it fly onto her headstone.
the score was settled!
 
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