Yelling, screaming, “guilting”, insulting, manipulation, financial repression and control are all psychological abuse.  If you are living a MISERABLE LIFE, you just may be a victim.  Join me.  Let’s talk.


I was born into the Deep South, puritanical culture of times past.  Girls were supposed to just do what they’re told, prim and proper, look pretty, keep your mouth shut.  It didn’t work for me.  I did want to please, a characteristic which carries over until today, but not at the cost of my identity.  In my small rural Alabama community, uniqueness and originality was not acceptable, not in anyone, much less a girl.  This was compounded by the fact that I am a P.K., a Preacher’s Kid.  Oh Lord.


I was expected to be perfect, a trait that has somehow always evaded me.  Anything else was failure.  The abuse had begun, completely unintended, but real none-the-less.  Anxiety became my constant companion.  The pressure of never being good enough initiated a chain of events in my psyche that still haunts me to this day.  Now I am a confident, strong woman but I have traversed a treacherous path to arrive at my destination.


I got married, the first time, at 16 to escape the repression of the puritanical upbringing that was terrifying me daily.  My mother tried desperately to control my adolescent impulses but it was hopeless.  Nature does take her course.  In the process, she alienated me and I had no choice but to get out.  As I ventured into the world from my sheltered existence, doors of perception opened in every direction and I walked through them all.


It was 1972.  The Hippie Era was in full swing.  I wanted the “Peace and Love” promise of the “Movement”.  Unfortunately, it was a lie, but it took many adventures and about twenty years for me to figure that out.  In the process,  I learned that all that glitters really isn’t gold and abusers exist in every nook and cranny of society and quite often are the very ones that we perceive as our best friends, people who just want us to do what they want us to do with no regard for our needs or desires.  The victim is a nonentity.  Mind you, I’m not talking about physical abuse.  This demeaning state of affairs can exist without a hand laid on you.  It is mental warfare, a struggle for your very soul.


I wandered from relationship to relationship, friends, jobs, marriages, churches, always searching for my niche.  It didn’t exist until I created it right here in my own mind.  Home really is where the heart is and my heart is devoted to pursuing a full, meaningful, rich life devoid of avoidable negativity. My perception of what is possible has completely changed and now I know that I can create the life that I want.  I’ve had to face challenges brought on by complete desperation, a driving towards the light of self actualization that will not be denied.  I will build this life or die trying.  You have to get that desperate.


If you have exhibited behaviors that you don’t fully understand, that scare you in some ways, that really don’t make sense to the tame of heart, you just might be making up for time lost under the controlling thumb of an abuser.  Although everyone who abuses does not realize that is what they are doing, the result is the same.  Either misery and depression for the victim or catapulting of the victim into behavior that no one understands is most likely to occur and while I have spent decades enslaved by abuse, that is over.  I got strong.  I got support. I got the Hell out.  Maybe you should to, maybe, just maybe, you should RISE.  Follow me.  We will explore this daily.







2 thoughts on “IN THE BEGINNING

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