Psychological Filth and a Silent Pervert

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Ode to my parents
Hot white imbecile trash yet evil masterminds at disguising evil behind closed doors.
Her-psychological filth. Him-silent pervert.

Every word started with a hesitation, a pause. Just enough time to craft and devise the most heinous damaging message meant to harm hurt destroy a child’s inner world. Ingenious in the way it tears down the inner self of another small human being. And silence from the evil co-hort who waits in the shadows to enter the bedroom and use it as his pervert playroom. A perfect team.

Every word meant to mold shape into a pliant victim who by all appearances to the outside world is perfect. A beautiful girl who doesn’t know she’s pretty. A beautiful girl who actually believes she’s ugly. A smart girl made to feel insanely stupid. A talented girl made to feel weak and useless and uncoordinated and ugly. A girl with visions and thoughts and deep deep feelings and no way to express them. Made to feel ashamed and foolish and damaged for having them. Win the game, but no compliments so you are molded into insecurity and never good enough, just to appear pleasantly modest.

Those cold steely blue eyes. Always staring. Always scheming. Always crafting new sinister ways to berate belittle and shame. A mothers love that never was. Psychological filth. It seeps into your being, boundaries are poisoned and decayed.

All the mothering caring feeding clothing Christmas joys all for show. All props. All to make this family look even better than normal. All to hide the sinister behind it in the dark shadows. In the happy family visits to cousins- all for show. The truth was it was a delivery of fresh meat to the perverted family predators and who knows who else. Even the beloved aunt’s house and my favorite cousins. All a conduit to evil.

Nothing more than a nothing. A small body. To be utilized and used and invaded by the perverts.

Going to church- all for show. A perfectly straight part in my hair - all for show. New clothes- all for show. Coaching the teams - all for show. PTO president- all for show. Girl Scout leader- all for show.

Such anger and hate and evil behind those steely blue eyes. And yeah you’d better behave. You’d better be that good little girl modest and sweet and quiet and agreeable to everything and everyone. It’s gotta look good. To hide the sinister. You’d better tell people you’re treated like a princess if they ask. You’d better say you are spoiled. You’d better say you are the product of good parenting. Because that’s the scheme. Dirty little secrets. A whole world of dirty little secrets.

She said recovering from this will be harder than recovering from the csa. Idk. Maybe it’s true. But I I hate them. And I think that’s healthy. I always had that fire of hate deep within. Hate. There was everything else that comes with trauma. Hoping and wishing and begging for love. But the hate was always there. Always. Two monsters. One is a cold calculating villain. One is a creep. What a pair.

I need to pull all this up front to the present and remember. I need to remember it all the time. All the parts don’t want to know this. But I present it to those parts who are willing to accept it. Mommy and Daddy were evil. They were monsters incapable of real love. But I held on. Idk how, but somehow I held on.

It’s hard to sign my username right now because my past and my present are confused and confuzzled. But I will pull it forward and make it real to the here and now.

Thanks for letting me diary this out,
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[Progress]

But so many of my parts are so so scared of them. Hypervigilant and scared to death of them.

They need to co-exist. Can the hate and the fear co-exist? The HATE is a ball of red hot fire. It is officially welcome in my communication room.

Can hate and afraid be felt at the same time?

Holy shit my brain hurts.
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[Oceantide]

Reading along, and listening. This is powerful. And important to express. And yes, I think the hate and fear can co-exist. You have a wonderfully creative, adaptive system with a communication room where all are welcome. Progress. You're amazing for naming and overcoming so many lies and evil attacks on your soul, psyche, body.

[Progress]

Thank you Oceantide.

Thank you for being so positive and uplifting! Truly appreciated. And thank you for seeing the big picture as I was working out all those details.

Yes, I think you are right. Hate and fear can co-exist at the same time, if you make space for them both. I can feel new pathways being created in my brain, and it actually hurts for a second! And I now recognize my tell-tale head-twitch when it happens. But then the new pathway is made. My brain is re-wired. And some disconnected parts have now connected to each other.

I’m realizing that the next complicated step is to understand where my love for my dad fits in to this equation.

“Daddy I love you AND why do you have to be a monster?”

That’s a lot to have co-exist- Hate, Afraid, Love and Resistance to the Truth.

Do I actually love my father, who harmed me and hurt me and abused me and who doesn’t truly love me because the action verb TO LOVE absolutely does not equate with the action verb TO ABUSE. Some of my parts desperately love him. And desperately wish he weren’t an abuser. And desperately wish he truly loved me. But he was an abuser. How do you sync all that up?

I need t’s help this week. What do I tell my Little Parts? I suppose I need to acknowledge their love for him. And let them grieve this unreciprocated love. Ouch, that’s gonna hurt. Grief. Yeah grief is painful. And rejection. It’s essentially parental rejection. They rejected the real ME. I had no value except as a device to meet their own perverted narcissistic pathological needs.

Don’t wanna do it. But I guess that’s the “work”.

Anyway, thanks again that I’m able to therapy this stuff out on here.

I’m hitting a point where I have enough experience on the site to know that the people on here read and care. I know myself that I just can’t always post a response even when I want to, so I’m satisfied doing the journaling type thing, and knowing it’s all good.

(Yet, I am still really really happy to see your reply! Hehehe)

Here’s to a New Year full of healing and recovery!
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