Like all parents, my father George was imperfect. He was consumed with anger – pessimism, cynicism, and rage permeated our house. His arrival from work always warned of an impending storm. He was only nice or cheerful during his nightly drinking; a predictable pattern that preceded his maudlin reminiscing that aroused his anger.
My parents fought almost constantly, and George used the silent treatment as punishment – sometimes for weeks. I remember Mom lying in bed, arm bandaged with bruises on her face, beside a broken orange lamp that George used to attack her when I was eight or nine years old. The screaming was especially bad; I believed she was telling the truth when she said George broke her arm and the lamp in the process. The semi-repaired lamp sits in my basement today. I thought the repair was pretty clever, but never told him.
George’s “help” with homework, swathed in cigarette smoke and whiskey, consisted of yelling at how stupid modern math and I were and mocking me for crying. Several times in the 8th grade I was excused from gym class after showing the coach the welts made by the belt he forced me to select. Often I’d lie in bed terrified, pretending to sleep, as he yanked my mother’s arm to show me the kind of woman she was. These things are burned into my memory.
George and I had a terrible relationship, and he never faced up to the truth of the reasons. He bore no responsibility; […]
I don’t often share, but I feel like I can explain and say the proper things on here.
So my TAR pit started about 8 years ago, when I got involved with a narcissist. Everything was always turned around on me, my feelings weren’t considered – it was always because I did something wrong. I made him mad, so he acted this way.
Now I struggle. We’ve been separated almost 3 years, but we have 3 children together.
It’s very LIMITED contact, but I’m sure a lot of people can relate when I say I felt more alone in my relationship than I do by myself.
I felt so suidical, so hopeless, so worthless. I was ready to give up MANY many days, but I didn’t.
I was constantly being put down, and he would lie, steal, sometimes physically abuse & cheat on me. Trying to heal from this is VERY hard. It certainly doesn’t happen within a day. And I don’t know if I will ever fully trust again.
Thankful that I’ve got 3 beautiful children out of that horrible toxic relationship. It’s a complete shit show.
There were plenty of times during our relationship that I remember he would withhold (take away) my phone and my bank card from me and then leave. I’d have no way to contact anyone for days at a time. I’d have to go to neighbour’s houses to use their phones and to check my bank account. Most if not all my children’s money would be gone and he would […]
I met him online. We pretty much instantly clicked. He was a truck driver, willing and eager to drop into my life. He was ready to come spend the night with my kids and me. I should have known this was the first red flag.
At first everyone liked and accepted him. We had this insatiable thirst for the patriach position in our family to be filled. And soon his guts started spilling out. He was an alcoholic, and also homeless when he was not driving the truck. I wanted nothing but love and consideration. I asked for bonding time, for honesty, for aspirations as “us”.
I was born of a raging demon father that despite all my efforts to not be like him, my DNA seemed to have recorded responses to life situations. There was so much uncertainty, back and forth, countless drop offs at the truck stops to try and protect my kids and my own heart from what I logically knew was toxic. Gaslighting led to second guessing my own parenting style and brutal arguments when he would threaten my sons for behavior he deemed unacceptable. Too long did I allow my little family to step on egg shells as to not start raging arguments. Years of verbal and emotional abuse ultimately led to physical abuse. Two women later and a child by one of them, he came home right after being with the other woman. And STILL… STILL my heart could not just LET GO! […]
Hi, where do I start? I watched my mom be abused physically, mentally, emotionally, and verbally growing up. I always said I will not let it happen to me. However, I do recall an argument where I was told I’m stupid, don’t know what I’m talking about, and that my feelings are not valid. I was 18 years old, and driving during this argument. As I proceeded to tell him I’m feeling hurt from his cheating, he tried to hit me – mind you, I’m driving. I swerved the car as I ducked. My rear view mirror went flying. I pulled over and told him to get out.
Let’s fast forward. I have been in this relationship for about 1.5 to 2 years. We had been drinking, and he accused me of trying to have sex with his friend’s brother during a party at his friend’s home. It quickly escalated; I don’t remember all of it due to being drunk.
I woke up in the backseat, but I know I was in the front when we left the friend’s house. My face hurt badly; I realized that I had been hit in the face when I looked in the mirror and saw the huge bump that felt squishy. I told him I wanted to leave him, and of course he said he was sorry won’t ever do it again.
Fast forward again. It’s a year to a year and a half later. We get married – we argued, but it was never […]
I am a 68-year-old woman who has been in a toxic marriage for 39 years. I am also an 8-year crack and meth addict who uses to cope with the incredible pain and loneliness of a loveless relationship and the absence of any family support at this point. There is no resentment towards them for protecting themselves and living their lives – just a gaping maw of emptiness and a desire to be out of my misery.
I have tried counseling, treatment, medication, work, physical and mental self-care, relocation, separation, community involvement, hobbies, and so much more… so many times without any success. I believe that I was programmed for this from something in my youth, but I can’t prove it. I’ve been raped, trafficked, lied to, abused, robbed, arrested, humiliated, berated, manipulated, gaslighted, and homeless.
I’m writing all this to say to adults and young people – PLEASE start building up your (or your kids’) confidence, support system, financial health, faith, connectedness, love, supportive mental and physical health services, and a strong life purpose very early in life. You were born to make a positive difference in this world and the better prepared you are to face the rampant hate, bias, obstacles, lies, and siren calls of the people and businesses that DON’T have your best interest at heart, the smoother your path will be in accomplishing your purpose. Always be safe, be smart, lead with love, and have a fallback position in case of trouble. Bless you all.
I experienced sexual abuse when I was a little girl. I told one of my caregivers and they didn’t do anything about it. I held that secret for several years, which wreaked havoc on my self-esteem and sense of security. I got the message “You are crazy and you don’t matter.” I don’t think that was the intended message from some of the people that were in my life, but I believed it.
I also suffered emotional abuse from a trusted caregiver in my childhood. When I was in my teens, I discovered alcohol and drank to numb the pain and to cope in society. I, of course, found myself in countless toxic relationships with people throughout my alcohol addiction.
My mother, who had been my biggest support system died when I was a young adult. It was devastating. I struggled with mental illness and alcoholism for several years and was hospitalized several times for suicidal issues. When I got honest about the abuse I experienced during my childhood, some of my family and friends called me a liar. It was very painful and I felt very alone. I finally got sober after I was sexually assaulted by a musician. I went to treatment, joined AA and worked the steps with a sponsor.
After about 12 years of working on myself in recovery (including a few relapses), I have eight years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol as I write this. Over the years of my sobriety I have done […]
Survivor is a strong word some days. I was blessed with a precious baby boy. He was extremely smart and very athletic growing up. His personality was almost mirror to mine. People loved him and he loved people, maybe too much in school. He had his whole life planned out for him at the ripe old age of 15. He was dating the love of his life, going to college and majoring in Electrical Engineering, and playing baseball and football. He suffered a few concussions playing football, and a shoulder injury ended his time as an athlete. I failed to see it coming, but looking back now I can see the signs of his isolation and change of friends. He lost his girlfriend. His behavior begin to change and I just attributed it to depression. I thought if I could just give him some hope or something positive in his life, then he would be okay. RIGHT!!! I went down the dark path with him and did not even know that I was doing it. He would steal from me time and time again. He would become verbally abusive if I did not give him what he wanted. He would get into physical altercations with his father and brothers. I was sacrificing myself, my marriage, and my relationship with my other children to try and save him.
After several rehabs and tens of thousands of dollars later I lost him anyway. He died from an overdose of fentanyl after being […]
As of this writing, I have been separated from my ex-husband for 22½ years and happily divorced for 14½ years. There was certainly one bright light after the wedding – my child… an amazing daughter to whom I refer as the best baby ever born. She is everything to me, and I don’t believe that I would have weathered this storm without her support, encouragement, and a smile that would melt the deepest and tallest glacier.
“I am not going to be the one to ruin that relationship.” That was not only my mantra, but it also became my commitment to my daughter with regard to her father. Prior to separating, I communicated with my entire family that I did not want anyone to bad-mouth my ex in front of my child; by and large, they acceded to my wishes – but outside of my child’s earshot, one family member particularly insulted, demeaned, and criticized both me and my ex. To this day, this person (to whom I am indentured) is blind to the fact that he/she is exactly like my ex in character and temperament – and they absolutely can’t stand each other (never have; never will). Even though they have not been officially diagnosed by any mental health professionals, I can honestly say that both check off several boxes of Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
While I am including this TAR Tale under “Parental Alienation”, I want to tell you it is possible to minimize the effects of this terrible form of […]
May 9th of this year was a very sad day for me, as it marked a full 365 days since I was erased from my daughter’s life. The process of alienating a child from a loving parent often takes years of quietly applied maneuvering, co-dependency, coercion, and the profound altering of a child’s emotional attachment to the other parent – as was the case in my scenario. It is considered child abuse for a reason. When you take the time to re-evaluate the intricacies of your parental relationship, and that of a divorced spouse, the pattern that emerges can be quite overwhelming. I’m lucky, I wrote everything down.
Looking back upon the dumpster fire that has been this last calendar year, I find myself waking up more days holding on to the essence of my own hope. Today, I am fully engaged with those around me and have purposely removed myself from a place of isolation.
I’m not claiming that I’ve been saved, nor am I the savior.
I am one man, peddling nothing but facts and truth. When faced with a moral dilemma that you’ve lost something that you can never properly or organically (re)ascertain, a sense of moral awakening takes place. The embers remain in their worst place – a dark flammable corner – where one spark could cause a four-alarm blaze.
Not today. Today I have some hope. And with hope comes accountability. To concentrate on truths, hollowing out the use of excuses, take control of my own behavior, and offer […]
A father’s journey is one of perseverance. A journey where each passing day – whether bright and hopeful or dark and pressing – allows for the joys of life, the celebration of milestones, and a reckoning that as a father, you have done everything in your power to keep your child(ren) happy, healthy, and safe.
For seventeen years I was a dedicated, loving, and involved parent to my daughter. I was there for her birth, every birthday, every graduation, every parent-teacher conference, and every doctor’s appointment. I played the Easter Bunny, Santa, and the Tooth Fairy. When she was ill, I was there to nurse her back to health. As recently as a few months ago, we toured colleges and universities together.
I gladly and willingly paid child support for a decade as it was the only way to ensure no less than 50% of parenting time. After child support orders ceased, I continued to make sure my daughter had health insurance, life insurance coverage, supplies for school, clothing, and adequate social connections (dance, softball, camp, time with extended family).
Those I have spoken to have predicated their thoughts regarding this situation by acknowledging the sacrifice a parent needs to make. I never sacrificed anything – I chose my occupations and geography carefully so that they would align with my trajectory of being a single dad. The joy of having a child should not lead to sacrifice – it should lead to sanctuary. My daughter has made me proud in a million different […]