Thursday, November 30, 2017

STFU




I have told this story before, about how I wanted to kill myself at Christmas time. I left out an important detail for the sake of trying to keep my biological family together. I feel that it is time to share with you, my dear reader, the full truth.

Oblivious Idiot,

I never set out to be this way. Do I frighten you? If I could have chosen to be someone else, I think that would be nice. To be strong and fearless like the image you present. Callus and disconnected from reality like the others in your world. Oblivious.

Do I frighten you? Does my pain cause you grief? How can I, your son, comfort you? Comfort your betrayal? Comfort your disappointment in how life has worked out? How can I comfort your hurt when I am bleeding out and nearly expired? You cover up your own wounds with the bandage of too many words. Your fears are cloaked with endless babblings as if you were an infant child that is enraptured by the sound of her own voice. Do you ever get tired of talking? I am chronically exhausted of hearing your voice. Each time I sit down to hear you talk at me,  fatigue saps all life out of me.  I can't do it anymore. I can't talk to you. You don’t listen. Ever. Since I was 11 years old you haven’t listened to me. You talk and talk and talk. Now, 30 years later I am shutting my ears to you. It’s my turn to speak. Then we will be done.

JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Did you hear me? I am speaking now. Mom, you are such an oblivious idiot! So focused on your own mirror you can't see when your own flesh and blood is drowning in the shit you caused! Can you hear me? Did you hear me? Will you listen to me? FUCKING LISTEN TO ME!!! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Your incoherent babble, like static on the radio, it’s unintelligible. My only wish to tune to another frequency.  

Shut the Fuck UP!!!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
Shut the fuck up!

Your husband died 30 years ago. I am sorry for your loss. He is not ME!!! Don’t you remember? My name is Joel. I am your son. You were there when I was born, weren't you? Perhaps you were too busy impressing the doctor about your first pregnancy to show up to your last one?  Must I introduce myself? FUCK YOU! My name is Joel! Your husband, Harold, is in the ground. I loved him as well. Time ticks on. You didn't. Instead you found me to become your husband. You transferred all of your shit onto me. I was a boy! I couldn't take it! Your shit was too heavy. My back is broken. I am crippled and in great pain.

Did you hear me? I am Joel. I am your son. I am not your husband.

Shut the fuck up!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
I am me! I am not him!
I am Joel. I am me all by myself.
Shut the fuck up!

Since I was 11 years old, you talked at me. you didn't allow me to speak. I learned very early on to tune you out. Just as you did to me with your endless worries. At long last, when I thought I had heard it all and there was nothing more to say. You start all over again. Or manufacture something new.

Shut the Fuck UP!!!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
I am me! I am not him!
Hello, My name is Joel. I am me all by myself.
Shut the fuck up!

What are you afraid of? Are you afraid of me? Do you think that if you pray real hard and deny traumas existence. That it will go away? That I will go away? That has never happened and will never happen. Faith and denial do not work the same way. Instead as you have wished,  I am going away. I won’t hear you anymore. Your vanity has pushed me away. You thought you could hire others to raise me by sending me off to private schools. You thought that if I found a male role model, he could be a father in proxy. You thought that if I could find the right man, I wouldn't turn out effeminate, gay or worse. Don't you think you could have raised me? Don't you think your presence, your love, your confidence would have done a better job? Don't you think you could have done a better job than underpaid teachers and a rapist? Each day, you remind me of how utterly unsafe and devalued you treated me as a boy and now as an adult. Your selfish constantness remind me how little you think of me.

Shut the Fuck UP!!!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
Shut the fuck up!
I am me! I am not him!
Shut the fuck up!
Hello, My name is Joel. I am me all by myself.

You said I needed a father-figure. What the FUCK was wrong with you? Couldn't that be YOU?  Instead, I got the message that I wasn't good enough for you. Instead, I spent the last 30 years trying to prove my worth to your absentia. Instead, I spent the last 30 years trying to earn the respect, love and attention that I deserved just for being me, your son!  Instead, I spent the last 30 years trying to earn your presence rather than your presents. The stench of your gifts are rotten in my nose. The faecal odor of your gifts are covered in grimy strings that are connected to a false sense of gratitude, obligation and love.


A male role model. A male role model! You said I needed a male role model! What the FUCK was wrong with you? Perhaps if you would have cared enough about me. I wouldn’t have been ass raped by the man you said I needed. Instead you cared more about your stupid wallet. For one millisecond if you would have just shut the fuck up, perhaps I could have told you before he put his dick in my mouth. If you would have cared enough about me to raise me your own damn self. I’d be just as fucked up and oblivious as you.

Shut the fuck up!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
I am me! Your son!!
I raised me. You paid commitment.
My name is Joel. I am me all by myself.  
Shut the fuck up!

Why do you project all of your shit onto me? As if I can cure your hypoxic cancer. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!  Listen to me! You did this to you! Don't blame me! My life is my own. I am not responsible for yours.  Perhaps if you shut up you could breathe on your own and wouldn't rely on others.

Shut the Fuck UP!!!
Listen to me! Can you hear me?
I am me! I am not him!
I raised me. You paid commitment.
My name is Joel. I am me all by myself.
Shut the fuck up!

If I open my mouth to speak these words, Will you shut yours and listen?
FUCK! YOU TALK TOO DAMN MUCH!!!
If I speak, will you open your mind to what I have to say?
You pushed me away! Away! Could you not bear me?
You pushed me away! Away! Could you not raise me?
You pushed me away! Away! Could you not see me?
Your abandonment. It wounds my flesh as if I were a cut with a thousand acid soaked blades.

If I open my mouth, Will you shut yours and listen?
My name is Joel. I am me all by myself.
My name is Joel. I am not Harrold
My name is Joel. I am not you.
I am not your savior, I am not your rescuer. I am not your husband.
I am your son. I am Joel. I am gone.


I wrote this letter to my mother after a week of being under constant suicide watch. Then for the next three years I consciously put off healing and dealing with what AFB did, to seek counseling and work on my mother and the abandonment I felt after my father died. We talked endlessly about how I felt when she was around. We talked so much about her that I feared my therapist was getting tired of hearing the same stories.

During that time, I learned the word “Narcissist” but it never really struck home with me until after the presidential inauguration in February 2017. I suppose it was because I was disconnected from the President that I was able to observe and learn what it meant to be a narcissist from a distance. I took what I observed and I applied it to my own situation and strangely enough, what I was seeing on the news everyday was an illustration of how I felt. The constant confusion and debate of whether or not what was said was true or not. The news channels endlessly discussing the sanity and fitness of the 45th president.

It was an eye opening macrocosm of my own reality. Over the next several months I began to realize that the man in the White House was just as sick and mentally ill as my own mother. I began to understand that what he was doing to the country, my mother was doing to me.

I began to realize that the only way to be free. The only way to find sanity is to cut her out like cancer from the breast. Normally, the Christmas season is very hard for me, the obligatory time spent with her causes me to feel desperate and suicidal. So far this year, I am optimistic, it is my goal to get through christmas without any idealizations of a life without me.

With this post, I want to end the time healing from the abuse suffered at the hands of my mother, I want to resume healing from CSA rather than just coping with it.

A dear friend of mine has sent me several articles about how to deal with, and cope with a narcissist. I would like to share them here.




iamnotbubba