First night in the 30s. Brr, I hope the little ones outside have found their straw stuffed beds.
There’s stuff I was thinking about today that I thought I wouldn’t write down. I’m probably going to change my mind. Why not? I started doing this because of a family that have tried to erase me since I was born. At least if I get everything possible down somewhere they won’t have succeeded.
I read a post saying kicking your underage child out of your home is abuse. I mean, of course. But I had to laugh. When my parents got divorced I was 12 or 13? It’s a blur of pain.
I was alone most of the time. Tossed between parents at the same time discarded and ignored by them both. I ended up sleeping at my friend’s house my freshman year because I never knew where they were. I’m not sure how long it was before they noticed. They usually didn’t notice when I didn’t come home. My dad took custody to continue to ignore me in his home. They’d come home bragging about their new car, or fancy dinner. I was trying to figure out how to duct take my torn boots so the snow didn’t soak through. Him and his wife traveled places so I was left behind a lot. It wasn’t much different from them being there.
The week before my senior final exams they packed up my stuff and I had to leave. I was 18 so they felt fine with it.
I couldn’t get to school so I had to go back later for my GED.
A couple years later, after I had my first daughter and was living in CT, I drove back to Cleveland with friends. I can remember the shock on their faces. Speechless. Both of my parents had moved without mentioning it to me. I had no idea where they lived. It didn’t surprise me, but I understood by their reactions that it was bad.
Of course I know how bad they were to me now. But it was normal treatment to me. They had spent my whole life gaslighting me into believing I deserved to be treated like that.
It never stopped either.
I married a man who treated me the same along with his family. It’s what I thought I deserved. I really believed for decades of my life that I was so fundamentally less than everyone else that I deserved neglect and deprivation.
If I want my basic needs met in some way, according to that family, I am the greediest, most selfish, manipulative person ever. They say these things to me while my dad and brother’s wives are all baubles and brands.
That basic insecurity as a kid is brutal. I’ve tried to search for any records from my childhood. Did anyone say anything about how neglected I was? Were there any reports? No medical records, no school records. Nothing. Nowhere.
My brother was diagnosed with some learning disability at some point. My parents made a big deal about poor Brian.
Since things run in families. I had hoped to maybe find something about me. I don’t know if I’ve always had just trauma related ptsd, or if there’s adhd in my trauma. They’re kinda the same .
They would have laughed off some kind of care or concern about me so I’m sure anything was thrown out.
I hate the whole Conley family so much. They abuse, then slander. Not one moment of remorse. Not once.
I have never heard any apology for such extreme neglect. Because they don’t feel it. Would love to see some karmic justice now.
Leave a Reply