Tuesday, June 14, 2011

I refuse to give up!! My best friend had a name



I have been pushed out by my family for not conforming to what they require of me. Of course, I have not conformed with much of anything since I was a child.  I come from an upper class family in San Francisco. So facing the streets as a homeless person has been traumatizing.  Although my brother is homeless in San Francisco.  Maybe it will end up being a blessing and we could find some healing together.  I still will not give up my calling in life to do what I am inspired to do regardless of where I lay my head night.   Whether it is a cot in a public shelter or a bed in my own studio apartment, I have decided to continue my vigil and testify to the accounts of my life.  Speaking out against severe child neglect and torture. I know that there is a need for people to stand and speak against evil.  I know that my story inspires some and sickens others. I know that many still carry the guilt of turning their back on me. I also know that with every door that is slammed shut in my face with someone I know, a window will open and I will have the opportunity to know someone new, just like you.  Someday I will be able to call a person my friend and I will have the opportunity to be their friend in return.  With a lot of luck, someday I may know what a healthy relationship is all about and experience the growth that two people can enjoy together without the fighting and manipulative conduct I have become so accustomed to in my life.



I have done a lot of research, trying to find places, support groups or retreats for people with C-PTSD. To be honest I don't know how anyone can afford the prices of such places. What interested me was who ran the organizations.  I was in a position for many years with an employer where I was able to fine tune the skills and develop more skills to run workshops and speak publically on difficult subjects.  I became available to my staff where I had been employed so they could feel comfortable to discuss any trouble they may be having on the job or in life.   I took the job with my company so that I could compare notes against my mothers business ventures. I was in a search to find out how an actual money making business recorded its earnings. I had always been suspect in the activities of my mother and step-father.  I needed to learn how to properly run a business from the bottom on up.  I had only been taught how a company is run through ill begotten means. I needed to confirm with myself and my own conscience before I continued on with any sort of entrepreneurship in my own life.



I refuse to give up on my life's calling because it continues to be on my mind as an important thing to do for myself and for others.  I have put it off and turned away from it many times. I did not want to feel the heat of the embarrassment of my life and my family. I had such a troubled life, full of so many experiences with narcissistic people it seems almost impossible to have lived.  I know that there must be a need out there to help troubled people with expressing themselves and being able to disconnect from the person or persons that brought the distress into there life.  Being well-versed in the language of "brainwashing" and narcissistic communication, I can be a wonderful source for answering those gnawing questions you may have in the back of your mind about the abusive manipulation you suffered in or through the hands of a narcissist or malignant narcissistic person.  Being the daughter of a woman that has run a very successful con on the wealthy congregants of her church/cult enables me to give you the inside view and perspective not many people have been afforded.  I can speak on the events behind closed doors, the in's and out's of finacial manipulation on the brainwashed and I can testify to the planning that it takes to accomplish the goals that are set out by these type of human beings.



So many people in my life have tried to turn me away from trying to help others in this way.  It has become rather curious to me and I wonder why it is frowned upon. Somebody has to do it, why not me? It is a natural fit.  I am told that I should just get over things and move on. This is a difficult task with C-PTSD.  If you read about C-PTSD you will find that being told to "just get over it" is ill advised.



What I would like to say to all of you now, is that my family has been in service to the public for three generations.  My Grandparents had their own church in Roseburg, Oregon.  My mother had her own church and non-profit in San Francisco, CA. and I would like to carry the torch forward just not the same way that it has been done thus far.  What you need to know is that when you are a preachers kid, or the grandparents preachers kid, you are constantly donating your time while you are growing -up.  It is just expected.  So, I have been in the business of serving the public through the ministry and non-profit business's ever since I can remember.  One of the things that I was pushed to do as a teenager, was to become a pastor.  This did not sit well with me and I did not do it.  However, I had the ability to engage an audience and capture their attention, which is a very good talent.


For years I have contemplated how to take what has happened to me and turn it around in my life. I would like all that has happened to me to not be a burden to bare in my life but rather an opportunity to share the insight into a sadomaschist and malignant narcissists life  I thought that there might be an audience of people that have suffered the crime of a malignant narcissist and sadomaschist alike, tearing from you the right to be alive. Being with my mother daily, during the beginning of starting her church, I have a birds eye view of narcissistic behavior as it begins to envelope its audience through brainwashing, intimidation, manipulation, lies, threats and psychological torture.  I was on both sides of the fence each day of my life as she would speak in open about God, Religion and behind closed doors, speak of how to manipulate those same people out of their wealth..  It is why I am not religious but I do believe myself to be a spiritual person.  Not many of the people that are running the cult recovery centers have my experience. It is shrewd training from the malignant narcissist herself. Subbing as a cult leader and portraying herself as your mother on the side gave way to many different and sorted experiences that has left me dealing with C-PTSD.  This does not include the experiences with the rest of my family and the actual interactions with the congregation itself.  This type of insight seems to be unusual, as it is very selective in my mothers case because the abuse was so broad and they have been so discreet to date.  I do know that I would be a benefit to society, speaking against the ill's of narcissism and the affects of a cult or a cult-like experience on a persons psyche and on how difficult it is to pick-up where you left off.  Teaching methods to heal and to move through the damages that these people do to your character and to your life without regard is where I believe my talent may be.  To be destroyed by another human being is extremely damaging and can lead to suicide, permanent depression and loss of interest in living.



My best friend did commit suicide because of what had happened to us as children. My mother had instilled such fear in him that one day it did overcome him and he hanged himself.  It is the fear that grips us that causes such despair and anxiety in our lives. It seems to kill us silently in disguise.  I would like to begin a movement in this country that brings narcissistic, malignant narcissistic and the enablers of the persons that are supporting this behavior to the forefront of society today.  It has taken me so many years to even find these descriptions of such monsters that I feel if it was made more publicly known we could save lives.  I would like to begin a foundation that would eventually become endowed, so that people like myself and my best friend have a place to go to heal from this type of  abuse.  There are no places that you can go to face down your demons when you have been pushed out onto the streets by these monsters.  Sadly, it is just assumed that you are a drug addict, an alcoholic or a derelict when you end up homeless and on the streets.  You are treated as if you have been stupid enough to do this to yourself and you deserve what is happening to you. Being alone after suffering so much in your life should not have to happen to anyone. Especially when the situation your are trying to exit is the family that is still enjoying the torture you are still suffering. It is the loneliness and the fear that I believe kills us so slowly.  The infuriating thing about all of this is that a narcissist is in charge of everything in your life, so when they are done with you, they simply kick you to the curb without I.D., money, a phone, bank account and whatever else the control freak has decided to keep from you so that they are not found out for their cruelty.  Anywhere that you search for help is an embarrassment, if yesterday you had your own home and today you are standing on the street corner where you were dropped off by the offender.



In addition, it is difficult to think straight after being in this type of environment.  A lot of  times you just need a break and the comfort of a shoulder to cry on during this time of separation.  This is such an important thing to remember.  One problem you face and is very difficult to overcome is that once you are in the life of a narcissist you will never know a life without them.  They are relentless in their attack.  They drop you off one day, kicking you to the curb when things are bad for you financially and emotionally and  as soon as you begin to recover they will conveniently show back up in your life.  It is the internal radar that each one of them seems to possess for the successful and continued torture of you and yours.  Providing a safe environment for a person to exit this sort of relationship or in my case family problem is paramount in the entire success of you're own life going forward.  In doing this one type of rescue for a human being you would be enabling the victim of the abuse instead of the monster committing the abuse. Trust me on this one simple fact. These people do not need anymore help than the help they have received from every person that has run the other way after realizing the destruction that they havoc.



I am also passionate about writing my story for myself.  I want somebody to know that I existed at one time in this life.  I want somebody to know how hard I had to fight to maintain the ability to make an independent decision.  I want you to know that I cannot possibly be the only child that grew-up and told a story of dismay.  Even though I have not spoken until now, the pain, agony and the hidden lies had to have shown up on my face at sometime in my life. You would have thought that someone would have had to have recognized the assault on my life and would feel compelled to help to end it, as oppose to perpetuate it with more lies and gossip.  I believe that other grown children may be in similar circumstance as I . People do not stop the lies and manipulation that we have suffered through, they just go and find a new victim to victimize in your absence. I want to tell my story to expose the graphic nature of a person, claiming to be mother and a man that is my step-father who did the most diabolical acts in front of me, claiming normalcy the entire time.  I need to tell my story, I need somebody to care that I was so severely abused and neglected, because if nobody cares than I don't wonder anymore about why child abuse continues to perpetrate itself from generation to generation.  If this is the case and nobody cares about a story such as mine enough to act upon what I have spoken on here, then my life is not worth the effort that I have made to live it.



You must have human contact in order to thrive.  My family has perpetrated this crime of isolation against me ever since I can remember.  I would like to experience contact with human beings that is healthy and not harmful.  I would like my life to be a testimony to myself and to the people that need to see somebody that has a story about their life just like them.  I would like to be able to stand up straight, not be embarrassed and just let it show that I am proud to be alive because I was able to survive.


Fighting to live since I was a kid

I am a life,

I was alive,

my heart gave 'way,

I couldn't die.



Looking for another guy,

smothered me, it was no lie.

Fear did grip me from a distance,

looking back at my resistance.



Startled by the silent air,

jumped back in to my despair.

Gasped for breath,

I did take off,

hid until I did cough.



All the lies,

 all I did was try and try.

Made this girl just realize,

my worth was little,

in guilt compare,

I lived my life entirely from there.





Disappointment doesn't rank until you get older and realize that you fought so hard for something that people don't seem to care about themselves because for them in was a given. It was a battle for me. Freedom did not come naturally and I still have yet to win the War. So while my peers turn from me because getting through the day is such a feat, I am patient with myself. I have made the mistake of saying how neat it is just to be alive and found that this offends them. I persevere. I know that most people believe me to be stupid, ignorant and stuck in the past. I can tell you from my own personal experience that in order to be able to survive what my best friend committed suicide over means that you do not encourage yourself at all to even think of or on the past at all.  To believe that we are stuck there is ignorance on your part.  I lived through all of this once and I would never live through it again.  The other frustrating opinion of people is that they believe me to be an idiot because I do not have a sure fire plan to just "get over it." I have to stop in my life, dead in my tracks sometimes to not become full of the rage that I feel inside myself.  I have to do these things for myself so that I can continue at all in this life. I believe that everything has happened to us for a reason.  I refuse to give up on myself. I believe flashbacks are your minds ability to begin the healing process, so that you may be able to be privy to the entire story that has been hidden in the lives of your perpetrators. I think that this may happen so  that you can finally understand their refusal to acknowledge their guilt and responsibility towards you as human being. This way you may begin the healing process of  not the being the "it," nor the "thing" that you have been referred to most of your life. I have a name and so do you. Together we can move mountains to regain the innocence that I know we never lost, it is just hidden in a special place. I know that this has to prove to be the truth for the injured.  I know that "we" in the collective sense, continue to be the target for narcissistic and malignant narcissistic persons alike. Lets end the brain drain. Join the fight against the monsters that haunt you tonight and tomorrow we can stand together. We can face our fears and know that we have one another and we are still fighting for our friends that have been lost in this battle against the immorality that has plagued our society. 


Make room if you want to, don't make room for me if you don't want to, but whatever you do today know this, my best friend is dead.  I will never forget and I will not run from a fight and this is the fight of my life, I am still alive! 



Rules Of The Cruel


 
The rule is no mercy,
from step-fathers book.
Fourteen years younger than my mother.
a Sado-Masochistic man,
who beats me because he can.

Forced oral sex was a sight I did see.
Was a boy and it was not me.
Opened the door to take one look,
slammed it in anger, rage, it took!
I guessed I would soon be coming of age.
Not if I can help it,
I turned the page.

Six years older than I this boy was,
laughed at me just because,
he put his dick inside my place,
in sneaky nightime lies he raped.
Or is it incest that he did take. 

Mother said, "You dirty little whore in your mind."
Step-father beat me!
said he was kind.
I never did look to see any sign.
I could not confess,
or get any help.
All that was said behind closed doors,
what happens here is for the best.

Split yourself in pysho state,
you boy! you freak!
don't touch me!
I'm dead.
Practiced rape.
Smothering hand,
 of boy I survived,
guilt gets the best of anyones lie.

Anger, Rage that boy did feel,
the day I laughed and said surreal.
Held my breath, that parts real.
Did not die,
not from lack of suffocating tries.

No Mercy.

Jail me in the prison you keep.
Make it real, make it neat.
Horrific sight,
addicted right?
I have your mind in lock-up tonight.

Confusing lies, continued to try.
Welcome to my life,
it's do or die.
I may not survive.
I just turned five.
Happy Birthday to me,
good night.

Born a slave,
shuffled about to anyone's house.
There is no consequence,
play till your hearts desire.
or shout!
More from the baby whore.
I pout!

Beat me till I don't cry!
Fuck me if you're a guy,
I'm was a kid,
I didn't know,
that it was wrong,
till they told me so.
Now I'm dirty, minded, filth,
step-father beat me with is belt.
He loved the moments of the leather strap,
beat the dog, guess you knew that.

I don't think much of the affair,
my mother had with him while he was there.
He was the nanny, hired to take care,
moved right in on all the parental sin.
Spirtual not, religious zealot today.
Believes in exorcisms back in the day.

Sickness was the air to breath, I'm afraid.
Yelling, screaming, pounding fists.
Pulled the hair that I don't need.
don't worry I will never shout,
why bother when my sisters out.
No mercy, no childhood, so they say.
Be strong,
and remember,
the rules of the day.
Cruelty favors the unloved and wronged,
beat me 'til I am strong.
Now I'm ready for sacred spot,
encountered you and you must stop.
Caught in words of this girls verse,
speaking truth, its getting worse.
Graphic nature matches you,
don't forget to say you're due.

Shall we?

Monday, June 13, 2011

Resume Upon Request






Crucify me,
make me feel the pain inside.
Drive the nails deep,
I don't care if I survive.
I just want to feel alive.

I've been his slave since the begin.
I feel his whipping words,
they stripped me of my minds eye.
I was blinded in his dungeon,
hear my cry.

One day it was a life style,
the next an experience to be had and filed away in his indifference to my life.
I gave him my trust,
he took all the rest.
Now I am driven by my own appeal to advertise for another guy.

Jealousy pours from this person,
he claims that the safe word was never named.
Stepping forward yesterday to stop my advancement today.
Escape this cage with a Master of the Art,
where? my mind is in despair.

I will serve with grace.
Walk with dignity,
speak with silence,
rest when the wicked rise yet again.

I did it all honestly,
he did it not at all.
He keeps me from answering my call.
He beats me for asking at all.

I want my Master of Disaster,
Where is my lair, my life, my dare?
I cannot find it anywhere.
I can only try and repair.

He approaches yet again,
to tell me I am his friend.
Again his character of life,
shows itself in open strife.

Find me in my open call,
I do not hide from you at all.
Exorcism proof, I am. 
Degree in hand.

Crucify me!
Make me bleed, it is what I need.
Take each memory and erase them all for me.
Be my Master, be not appalled.

Speak the truth,
do not lie.
Tell me that you'll be my guy.
I'm just a girl that rates this way.
Not sick, not ill, just raised to be
your open Till.

Resume upon request.



The Colors of Content



I started my journey five years ago, 2006.  So far I have forged through my entire life and now I am stuck at around two years old. It is odd how I seem to understand things better when I go backwards in my mind to see what I don't always understand about myself.  Sometimes I try to reason with myself and say that these scenes in my mind cannot possibly be my life. The upsetting thing always ends up being that it is my life.

The fact is that I put everything into paint cans when I was eight.  I hammered the lids shut and stored them carefully in the corners of my mind.  I imagined this would be the easiest way to sort everything that had happened in my life so far.  Using the colors of the rainbow as a "Table of Contents" seemed perfect to be able to separate each trauma out by color.  I did not have the problem of running out of paint cans because it seems that colors are limitless. Leaving me there plenty to use for my complex problem.  Plus, when I saw a rainbow it always made me smile.  This was something I had planned while separating all the traumas one by one into their own color coated paint can.  I wanted to have good memories not bad ones, it really did work too. I used this process of compartmentalizing things up to a few years ago.

I wrote this on my birthday in 2009;

Paint Cans!!
Spread them out!!

I'm only Eight,
and I can't take,
all the weight,
from their mistake.

Colors,
Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange,
Nude, Not, Rot, Spot.

Keep them pure,
it's a lot.

Lids go here,
cans go there.

They do not need any air!!

Make some space,
clear the waste.

It's my mind
Post Haste!!

I need to drain the fear from me,
to late, don't shed a tear, it's clear.

That can, that lid, it's over here.

Close one eye and do not steer.

The Hardware Store is almost here.

Paint Cans, Paint Cans,
the shelves are strong
I'm in first gear.

I might be slow
but, I am here.

Paint Cans, Paint Cans
They were clear!!

K.A.P.
4/29/2009

It was as if the entire scene that I have painted here exploded in one fell swoop of my mothers attack on my life five years ago.  It was an ugly mess inside my mind.  Frustration, anger, and rage filled me to the rim.  I had spent so many years spending so much time keeping this all at the correct temperature so that the lids would not blow, then they did.  I guess my plan at eight had some flaws. I don't think that I knew that heat could make the top of a can blow off. 
 
I know that recently my frustration has been exposed.  I am not sorry, nor am I embarrassed to write what has come to mind after all these years.  Sadly, this is my life and I am angry that I have not been able to find what I set out looking for in the very beginning.  I remember making a decision when I was very young while staring at my mother.  I thought that I would do the opposite of her and then I would not be hurting people as I witnessed her doing daily.  So, I did, I watched and did the opposite of her, always.  I have not taken advantage of people, I do not run cons, I do not use the manipulation of brainwashing on others, I do not blackmail people, I do not beat them emotionally until they sign over their Trust Funds and Wills to me.  I have lived a life where I have worked hard for what I own. 
 
I was determined that if I worked hard that I could find all the things that I seem to see but do not feel or understand for myself.  I looked for love, peace, happiness, joy, positive growth as a human being, compassion and all I have found is more narcissistic people that rip me off emotionally and physically.  It has taken me forever to understand that this is what I have met and what I  have been surrounded with my entire life, even as an adult.  You see I did not find the word or definition there-of (Narcissist, Malignant Narcissist) until recently in my life.  Nobody tuned me in on the fact that there was even a description of my mother or situation.  I guess that goes to show I was in the midst of all of these monsters constantly.  I am so stupid that I did not know this and that I continued to take people at face value. I would believe everything that they told me.  I would not question what they said to me.  I did not think people lied constantly until just recently. 
 
Looking back I believe I am more angry now than I have ever been at anytime during my life.  Of course, every person that I know has turned their back on me.  This has all been since I have come to terms with my own tragedy and began to speak out in my defense of myself.  As soon as I began to defend myself and require friends just to allow me to express my own feelings on any said subject, they stopped talking to me, calling me or just hanging out with me.
 
All they have proceeded to do is make me drive harder into my past to discover what it may be that repulses them so much that they cannot see or speak to me anymore. Are each of them responsible for something horrific in my life? Even as an adult? Did they help to drive my children away from me when they could have helped them find me?  I know that the harder and colder that I have been treated by people whom I have told my diagnosis, the worse I get towards wanting to know all of the facts.  I am becoming driven to find the truth in my mind, no matter the pain that it causes me. I am trying to go back through things in my mind to understand and find reason for such deplorable treatment.  The last thing you are meant to do to someone with C-PTSD, is to isolate, tell them to get over it, tell them to shut-up, its done, there is nothing you can do about it, etc.

What has happened, has happened.  I am healing from the hurt of having nobody on my side and accepting my isolated existence.  I have been trying to heal myself by confronting what comes into my mind via flashbacks.  I believe that the flashbacks may be a sign of healing anyway.  I think it is a sign that my mind is capable of now looking at the horrors of my life.  It is an attempt to piece them together with the now running dialogue in my head. If you put that with the understanding and reasoning capabilities of an adult view, I think I can actually begin to come up with the answers that are so badly needed in my life.  I am encouraged by my attempt everyday to conquer yet another fear that causes me such grief and dismay.  I am now capable of realizing that being the person that I am naturally is more than O.K.  I am filled with the capability to express myself clearly. 

I am outraged by the behavior of not just the people in my life as a youth but the people in my life as an adult.  They thought that my company was suspect five years ago, imagine their surprise when one day I speak in an open forum of exposing monsters for a living and I tell the very personal stories of their life and interaction with me as adult.  As I tell the public at large about how much money has been taken from me, how items in my home have been removed and kept by them.  As I speak on how my trusting nature with trucks that needed to be sold, were sold and the money kept by that same person.  I will speak on how I tried to confront the issue at hand and they screamed and yelled saying that I was nuts just like my mother.  While I would stare and wonder why I did not see that this person like they were on that day.  I promise you that one day I will tell my story so that I can prevent other young and very innocent lives from going through the pain that I have suffered until I now.  I never knew that these monsters were defined and known by the public as I know them personally.  I will continue my march as I am, determined to expose the narcissistic and malignant narcissist alike.

I will testify to the trials of my life.  You see I took what I saw, what I knew, all the things I learned growing up and what I understood to be proper behavior in this world and threw it aside. I went on a search for peace, reason, love, acceptance and a life that I could lead without the terror and fear I felt as a child.  A life that would be respectable and not full of contempt or rage.  I pretended my entire life, I acted through everything so that I would be acceptable to you. I have been a victim of selfish, manipulative liars.  Knowing that you are aware of yourselves, I give you fair warning that I will not cease my life's journey to find and be a peace with myself.  It is just that now I will speak a more vicious truth, not disguising my words to protect your mind from reading the absolute and horrid reality that I have lived.  I am a testimony to myself, my survival, my own journey to find love and reason for your lack of morality.   I accept you as you are, with no changes, no conditions to any one way you behave, but you don't accept me the same way. It's O.K. I accept me as I am and that is the biggest and most difficult hurdle to face. I love myself and I am O.K. just the way I am, no conditions to place on my mind to just exist or live freely. 

I want to be able to help you right out of your lies and into my truth. I want it out there for everyone to read.  I will never quit on myself or the innocent lives of those that are stuck in the con you are running constantly on humanity. I  believe in the impossible becoming possible, I believe in me as I am. I am dedicated to being real and not having to act for you or anyone else anymore.  I quit.  Reality rules, no matter the graphic nature of its truth when it is spoken, written or felt by the individual that just survived in this life.

I am not sorry that I took all of you at face value up to now. I can never have the finger pointed at me, saying I was full of rage, anger and was oblivious to others in the plight of life. So thank you for your friendship, thank you for your lessons in life, it has molded me into the person that I am today.  Trust is thrown away permanently in my life.  It is no longer to be had by me.   I hate you and that's O.K. for me to say do now at this time in my life.  I understand what hatred is really about. I am working through that too. I do wonder sometimes if you know that continuing to hurt a person that has been so badly hurt is wrong to do.   I will not forgive what has happened to me, because what has happened to me makes me the unique individual that I continue to be.  Why would I want to be different than I am.  I like me, I have survived what is not survivable, so I am told.  I am still intact. I just come from the other side of things, with a different character base than you seem to possess.  But, truthfully I believe that the ones that have done these things to me to be evil and I am actually okay.


Sunday, June 12, 2011

Trained To Snuff For You!!

Play me Please, my name is Karen, how do you do?





Demons all around,
beatings with a leather belt.
S-C-R-E-A-M-I-N-G
You have no authority,
madness is out.

Spirits release the evil in me,
I feel composed.
I will wear what you have done.
Look not once but twice,
realize that I am not nice.

Practiced at the horrors of the night.
Took a razor blade to bed,
you said I was dirty.
Split that dick down the middle.
I was pretty fuckin' little.

Jammed that cock down my throat,
I was four and you were gone.
Learned my lesson,
it was a sin,
I bit down hard,
and drove my teeth in deep.

Was it dreams or nightmares,
hatred brings to boil,
all the rage to drench you in.
My words, my honesty,
it is vengeance that I speak.

As I head towards where you should be,
my mouth bleeds with the words that you do not need.

Get your camera,
find your crew,
I am trained in SNUFF's for you.
Warm the set with whips and chains,
hit the lights,
claim the fame.

Promised from the practiced days,
you remember the things you say.
Out of body, out of mind,
do not worry,
I am fine.

I walk with purpose,
I walk with sin,
I am still waiting from way back then.
Dear Family,
You promised,
 that the torture would balance me.

I am ready,
I am on my way,
to make you money?
NO!

The script for my life,
I threw it out.
What is the next line?
Oh wait now its all mine.

Re-Write!

Call Hollywood, call Stanley Kubrick,
EYES WIDE SHUT
 is going live.
Do you have a degree?
from
The Temple of Set?

New script for dirty girls life,
thats me,
ADULT CONTENT
required by truth that needs to be told.

Expose the parental force,
from way back when,
till now, they sin.

 I Prey!!





"Fuck Your Exorcism"





I raise my sword,
as voice of MAD.
Stand and dual,
for this child is due!!

The toll of indifference,
a price you cannot pay.
Afford your neglect?
For severity will come,
I bet.

Watch the exorcism,
listen to my mind as it screamed at three and four and five more.
Terror resides inside of me.
Death or life?
Slight of hand.

Apologies will not stop me,
DAM.

Treachery is a foot.
It's mine,
and I do stand.

Oh Dear Mother.
Do you see my nightmare,
can you finally hear me?
A little girl,
you left for Deed.

Fuck your EXORCISM!!
You were just a bad decision.
Let us share the nightmare,
now we are working with sad.

My mind still sees,
your exposure and all you need,
narcissistic energy is not me,
I am only a malignancy,
you told me to be.

I am running so quick,
don't be scared I'm about.
I am coming for all of you,
remind me of why you hide,
from all of these lies?

Oh yea!
Because in very real life,
you performed an exorcism at three,
I still remember the scream,
listening?

Raised to be a Companion or a Muse for a Man.


Board Game!!

In guise and mystery,
I live, I lie.

While walking tall,
I often fall.

I know my sound,
I know my name.

Brick by brick,
I go the game.

Play?

Mortar dries,
while my tears cry.

The skies are dry,
and I am Blue.

Because of you,
I ask,
Who's, Who?

Play!!!

Check Mate




My mother had me trained to be a companion or a muse for a man in this world.  She was going to sell me at eighteen years old, that is the reason I took off so quickly when I was young.  I was taught how to run a household by Louisa Minot Mosley.  I was taught how to behave in the company of men.  My mother broke me in when I was young.  I had many experiences that I was unaware that they were wrong until they found God in the household and I was told I was a dirty girl.  I was brought into the BDSM bars with my mother. I was in tow as she had her lessons.  Those men were the ones that educated me on the rights and wrongs of what had already happened in my life.  I actually am very appreciative and would not mind running into a Master or two that believes in the old school ways of BDSM.  I would like to go to Europe because finding anyone like this here seems impossible to do, I was hoping they would know what to do with me as an adult.  My mother made sure that I was also made appropriate for any of the men that wanted to view me in my life.  Some were promised they could have me at 18, others made different bids. All of this was done in secrecy behind the closed doors of what she had now become in life, very wealthy.

I wasn't the only one in the family business.  My older sister had been promised to someone in the church too. When that fell through I was put into her stead.  I wonder if it was passed down to my little sister when I did not fulfill the promise.  Yea, right, she is the golden child, belonging to my step-father and has a mouth on her that makes the grown men run.  My mother has been trying to marry her off for years, but the suitors come to meet her and quickly turn for a quick escape. I guess she did not get the training that I did in my youth.  The beatings and the severe neglect as a child that makes you turn and smile at any man when all he has done is say hello kindly.  One kind word to me makes me shine oddly.  Take me for a milk shake and I love you forever.  Oh course, nobody bothers to investigate into the reason that milk shakes equate to love for me.  I was never loved when I was born, so I don't even know what it is at all.  I thought that it was going for a milk shake, lol.  It might be stupid but I love milk shakes, take me to Bill's Place in the city and find out for yourself, lol.  I know its sad, I made somebody cry the other day and I didn't know why he was sobbing so I asked.  He looked again and could barely speak between the gasps for air, he said, "You have never been loved, have you?"  I looked at him with an odd stare and said, "How on earth do you even know that?"  "My shrink is the only other man that has ever looked at me and asked that very same question. Do I wear these days?"  I said this with all curiosity because this man was a virtual stranger to me.  His response was upsetting, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry."  He kept crying, I just stared, he said, "You can see it on you, I am so sorry for you."  I told him that it was alright, if you really don't know what love is, you really can't miss it.  It doesn't cause me pain like it seems to be causing you. He said, "You won't ever know what your missing, you can't, I am so sorry."  All the crying began again, he ended excusing himself.

I was taught to never say no. It did not matter what the situation was at all, just do not say no or I would be beaten.  Hence, why I have been divorced twice, it takes me a while to get my nerve up to do anything about what I was pushed into originally.  I am older now and wiser, thank goodness for the experiences of life teaching me how to eventually be around all of you all so I can be a better survivor than I have been thus far.  But, such is life, I am very sensitive, I make a good muse and an even better companion.  I am becoming more well-versed in the matters of conduct one should possess in life. By the way, this is all very different than being just a whore, believe or not.  So, maybe I will figure out where to put my resume.  Not that there is a great call for this type of business arrangement.  You would have to be traveling in my mothers circles I suppose, in order to be with or around the correct clientele for the interest that would be peeked at such an opportunity. I think maybe for a person like me, that just attracks the predator it is not such a bad way to go in life.  It is not so bad, its a living and I came from a high station in life, so it can be a really good life.  That is if you are fortunate and a good man picks the contract up.  Now that the Lucky Strike Club in the city is closed I don't know where to contract. If Sidnie Smart was still around she would help me out, she remembered the good old days too.

In a lot of different ways that people in general don't appreciate this type of life style I really do appreciate the old school, it's home to me.  Having things arranged for a person like myself, ends up being safer than what has happened to me.  Here I am in an apartment of a man that wants me to leave after robbing me of all my goods, running me into the ground and now he gets a cheap thrill kicking me to the curb.  He is one of the only people that knows my entire story and as the covert narcissistic man that I finally figured out him to be, he has no guilt or remorse for knowing and saying everyday that I am homeless and need to get out.  If I had been or arrangements had been made for me to be with one of the men that contracts a person like myself.  They would take care to be careful, I am fragile goods but I can be worth a lot money to said person should he decide to pass me on.  That is kindness to me. I doubt a person that paid a contract on my life originally would just kick me to the curb.  So arranged marriages or relationships with men interested in the dark world of BDSM is not so bad.  I would have fared better in the end and maybe with a little odd luck maybe I will still be able to be what I would be good at in this life, a companion for a man.  A man that would like to go into the darkness of a lair and be a master to me in there to me. A place where I can be that feels natural and comfortable much like pre-school may feel to you. It is what my mother raised me to be and taught me to live a BDSM life in this World. Enjoy the reality of my life that never has been and took years to figure out because it began at age on no consent.


Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Snuff, I don't have a phone to get the call.




I was told that I did not have to worry about being stuck here on this place when I grew up.  I asked the adults in my life when I was young how I would know when it was time to die.  I was told that I never had to worry about my death it had already been planned. I was told that I would get a phone call and then I would know it is time for my snuff.  I said, "oh good, I was worried that somehow I would just get stuck here."  I felt very relieved at the time and was very pleased with the entire plan.

I have yet to get my call but I was thinking, I don't have a phone anymore and in reality I have no address or a home to live in.  I wonder sometimes if I have not sub-consciously done all this to myself, so that I end up on the street and impossible to get a hold of, let alone be able to be found.  Wouldn't that be weird if I sabotaged my own like so that this could not happen.

A snuff movie is a motion picture genre that depicts the actual death or murder of a person or people, without the aid of special effects, for the express purpose of distribution and entertainment or financial exploitation.[1] For-profit snuff films are generally regarded as an urban legend, whose persistence demonstrates more about our anxieties than the reality of such films being made. Some filmed records of executions and murders exist but have not been made or released for commercial purposes.

a snuff movie


a film that is intended to be sexually exciting which shows a person being murdered
 
 
Is that a strange thing to know will happen to you?  I have never looked it up before but this is what I know it to mean from when I was a kid.  Do you think that the people that have perpetrated these horrors on my life ever feel guilty?  Why would somebody say that you never had to worry about a place to call home and then proceed to tear it all apart by taking it away.  Do people everywhere in the world behave this way?  Or is being told you will be going out in a snuff as an adult unusual?  Is it normal to go through all you own and remove pictures out of frames, sell your belongings, loose your I.D., destroy your computers and then say you have to go now?  I feel like this person I have been with answers all these things that it says about a covert narcissist.   I can't do about anything about the things he has taken or sold out from underneath me. I know I need to go but really I should feel free to stay. I have more than paid my way to be able to stay where I am currently living but how do you get him to get off his high horse about me leaving.  I mean you can't just go sell all of somebody's belongings, use up all the finances, then say you have to go. But I guess you can because this is a description of the person I am living with and what he has done to me.  He is the only person that knows my entire story and yet he is still kicking me to the curb.  Do these people ever think that one day out of the blue they maybe kicked the wrong person?





http://hubpages.com/hub/The-Covert-Narcissist
How do I recognize this narcissistic abuse?





A covert narcissist tries to tie their primary source of narcissistic supply (their partner) down early on in the relationship. They suck up all the finances within the relationship, cut off their partner's contact with family and friends and may even damage or lose their partner's official forms of identification claiming it was an accident leaving them without money or proof of who they are. They manipulate them into a situation whereby they don't have the resources to leave the relationship.





Narcissistic ideology usually clearly shines through the relationship solely to the narcissist's partner, they are usually the only person that recognizes the problem though are left with no escape route - when seeking help, family and friends will accuse them of twisting around everything that the covert narcissist has already told them back on to them in the process of ostracizing their partner.



Covert narcissists attempt to make their partner believe that they have mental health issues or even that they are insane, they will misbehave and tell their partner it was all in their head, they imagined it, it wasn't real. Tell them that you are not willing to be manipulated and they will tell you there's no relationship then. Of course, the partner has already been ostracized and this is what everyone around them already believes, the narcissist has already built their army of support forcing the partner to question their own sanity.



What problems can this sort of narcissistic abuse cause for victims?



Ultimately victims of long-term covert narcissistic abuse can experience mild post-traumatic stress disorder - they experience nightmares and flashbacks subconsciously piecing the parts of the puzzle together. This is the brain's way of healing itself and it can be decades before this realization happens. When this happens the partner usually begins to figure out just what has been happening all these years though they still have to suffer the consequences of the abuse alone - their friends and family still believe it's them that's the problem.



When the narcissistic person can see that their victim is tired and worn down and in a weak vulnerable state it offers an even easier chance for more emotional and mental abuse and they will inevitably kick them while they're down. Narcissistic abuse feels cruel, cold-hearted and twisted for the victim and people in these type of relationships are twice as likely to suffer with stress-related illnesses such as depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, heart attacks and strokes.

 

I wonder if anybody will hear me when I speak to people about stopping the abuse before it kills you.  Or if you die of exhaustion.  My right hand started to shake violently today and right here it says that a person like this can give you a stroke.  He asked me four or five days ago if I thought that he would feel more guilty if I died.  I told him that it would just worse for him.  He said that he was guilty for leaving me all alone.  I said I know, you should be, it was wrong to do to me, its caused everything to become even worse for me.  Then he said, "You can't stay here anymore, you have to go."  Just like everyone else in my life, they look at you and the guilt of what they have done to you begins to eat them up inside.  What do you say, I give up on all of you.  No place to turn, I am so tired and yet as soon as step out the door I have a target bulls eye on my head. I can feel it coming already the next narcissistic man is not far away. Yet another one to suck the rest of my life out me.  Maybe this will be the final one. Maybe this is where you learn you can run but you can never hide from death.  I don't have phone that rings me with the directions to my snuff film but I bet you can never get away from what has already been planned for you since you were very young.  I bet death just comes differently, but it will come just the same, not stopping to reconsider the plan.  Just as they said to me as a child and once as an adult three years ago.  Right out of my step-fathers mouth, "Oh don't you worry, you can die and you will die, mark my words on that."  I just stared at him. The phone call please, I am more than ready and waiting. I quit humanity today, I quit you.

I Scream!!




No one can hear the silence of a scream from a life that cannot exist.  To be diagnosed with C-PTSD and then to be told that there is no cure is not a very kind way to deliver to you the remainder of your life.  I had to take a lot of time to myself to think about how to deal with the flashbacks and how to handle the second blow to my life.  There are no cures for those either.  So, when they went live and I asked what that was about and the professionals replied yet again, "That can happen."



Here I am, staying with a friend that told me I never had to worry about a roof over my head.  He has been a staunch supporter since the diagnosis two years ago.  He asked me to move in with him so that I would not be alone.  He made sure I had a phone so that if I panicked I could call him. He took care of my finances and he made sure that my belongings were properly stored.  He told me that I would always have him as a best friend and I never had to worry about being alone again.



He wants me to leave.  Turned off my phone and said he wants to live alone now.  I have run out of money recently and so I have zero dollars to move-on, let alone I am terrified to be alone.  I have no way to call anyone for help so I just become more and more anxiety ridden as the days pass by.  I have come to the realization that I will be standing in line with my miniature pincher in my arms at Glide Memorial in San Francisco.  I am becoming a little less terrified of my next move in life, but I thought I would write a little bit about it before it happens. 



I want you to know that every person that left my mothers church with nothing had a family to turn to for help.  Not one of them ended up having to become homeless on the street.  Each one was able to return to the warmth of the family that they had abandoned to be with my mother.  They were received with love and therapy for surviving a cult.  Each family was able to embrace life and begin again.  They were looked upon and still are looked upon as the poor victim of a cult leader that brainwashed them into believing her.  That is not what people think of with me.



As I continue this survival of so much and old memories of horror just continue to roll on into my mind, I am sad for you.  I want to say I always wanted to be with a man that was there when I opened my eyes in the morning.  I wanted him to be able to say to me, "I want to be the first person you see when you wake."  I wanted a man that would look at me from across a room, walk over to me and say, "You are the person that needs the most love and I want to wrap my arms around you, holding you until the pain I see on your face passes."  I wanted to be seen by a man that knows I am hurting so badly, just like I am identified by the narcissistic predators.  I wanted to know what it was like to live a dream for a moment in time.  I wanted to know that there were men that would be as magnificent and full of as much passion as a covert narcissist is full of deceptiveness.



I know that unless a miracle happened and some person said they have a beautiful in-law out back and would like to wrap me up in their arms, keeping me safe for as long as they could, I am headed for the streets.  My friend, the one I live with is becoming anxious that I leave again and I should be going soon anyway.  My disability benefits from the federal government is on the horizon and maybe with a little luck I can find an inexpensive room for my dog and I to live in within the next six months. So at least there is something on the horizon that looks positive.

I will be headed for the city my mother lives in to live on the streets, they have availabilities, I called ahead.  Don't start telling me about all the programs out there that I can apply to, I am very well aware of them, I was you once. I had a four bedroom house, a lap swimming pool, and R.V. a ski boat, a  good life. I am not dragging my feet because I am unaware that there is a place to help homeless adults.  I am dragging my feet because I come from one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in San Francisco and I have to live on the street.  I grew up in West Clay Park in San Francisco, California.  The friend I am living with is having to have his father pay for everything in his life because he has not been able to get a job in the past ten years. My family has enough money to pay for a small studio or one bedroom to keep me out of the way and off the streets just like my friends family pays for him. In fact, it happens a lot from the social class that I came from, you have heard or them, they are called trust fund babies.  The family doesn't want to be embarrassed so they pay the grown child's expenses to keep them out of the gossip circles.  In my case, three years ago my mother jumped up and down that I was going to be homeless, saying, "I am so excited, I can't wait."  I just stared at her when she said it.  This is when the man I am living with right now stepped up and told me I never had to worry again.  In my mothers case and those social circles which she travels, it is the rave to have a problem child.  She wants her children in the worst possible scenario so that she can talk all about herself and what she is doing to help her children while they are living on the street.  So she does not find it an embarrassment at all, it is an accomplishment and makes conversations so dicey, everyone feels sorry for her because her children became vagrants beside her best effort to mentor their lives. Sort of like what I said yesterday about how people love talking about the most abusive and scandolous things behind your back if it is your life, but if you mention one thing they tell you that you are harboring on your past and you should move forward.





So maybe my mother and I can bump into one another on a back alley where I may have to take up residence if I don't get a bed for the night.  I wonder where you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?  It will be odd to think about my mother from a place like that.  My mother lives in a 10 thousand square foot home , she does not want for anything these days and to help me would be of no consequence to her pocket book.



I am already terrified when the sun goes down at night and I live indoors. I wonder what kind of person I will become when the terror goes to a new level of real.  I guess you will be terrified on the inside from all that happened  to you as a kid and as you look around at the reality of living on the streets you become more terrified and have worse nightmares than you already have now.  It is a bummer.  I was hoping that one person in this world could have had compassion on me and tucked me up under their wing, never letting me feel all the horror of my life again and again and yet again.


As one last thing I was thinking about today that I thought would be cool if it happened.  Maybe there is an older man out there that needs a daughter in his life and he never got around to having one. Wouldn't that be cool it I ran an advertisement for a father and I was adopted in real life by somebody who never had the time or the opportunity to have a child. I used to be very successful before I was hurt, had back surgery and couldn't return to work at PetSmart as a Store Director. Just think I would have somebody to call and he would have somebody to get to know and rescue, a fatherly thing to do.  I know that I have a father out there somewhere and I know if he knew I existed that he would help me so that my mother was not able to force me onto the streets for her entertainment.



So, to the Dad I do not know, "I love you and I would have loved to have known you in person so that I could give you a big hug and say thanks for making me yours."



My name growing-up was Karen Meakin and the last school I attended was Wallenberg High School, Mr. Kearney was the principle. Maybe he would like to have the job of newly adopted father. I am putting the name I grew-up with on here because it occurred to me that no one would ever be able to find me from when I did attend school. For pete's sake they don't even know my real last name or I guess legal name, which is Karen Placek. You never know what will happen in my life, it is an experience I can say that much to you today. I know that for sure tonight, right at this moment, I have a roof over my head and I am appreciative that my friend stepped-up to the plate when nobody else did.



I miss my house so much sometimes. It was safe, I owned it and nobody could kick me out or threaten me every five minutes with homelessness. I never felt guilty for living under my own roof and l loved my swimming pool. To loose so much so fast is difficult but as I am sure at least one of you are saying to yourself right now, "You are not the only one that bad things happen to you, you should be grateful for what you have." I want to say to you personally if you are that person the following.  When you say things like that in response to what I am talking about on here, you are probably reading the wrong blog. Until you walk in another persons shoes don't open your mouth with a comment, suggestion or statement if it is at all similar to the one above. I am tired of the negative people and there come backs to my life.  I don't need to hear you or anyone else tell me about how there are worst lives than mine because you do not know any to tell about or you would, i am sure of it. Plus if its true, then I need togo and find them so I can help them out.  Unless you know somebody well enough when you are speaking to them you really  have no idea if the person that you are speaking to is actually that worse life or not. Of course I know that there must be worse lives than mine or at least I hope there are, it sure would make me feel better about my own life. In fact the person you speak to today that is telling you about their personal woes just may be that person that has the worst possible life on the face of this planet, and they are person you are having lunch with right now.  Somebody owns that title. Make sure you take a good look at who you are engaging with during any day that you are living, because you just might meet that person today, are you ready for that in your life, what will you say then?



Do you not think that somebody who writes one of these blogs is not very well aware of the fact that there are other people in this world that are in worse situations then ourselves. Even if I have a conversation with you in person and I am telling you my story of tragedy do you not think that I am not aware that there are other people out there in the world suffering a worse life than mine right now? Do you really believe that a person like me needs a person like you to tell us not to feel sorry for ourselves? I will tell you honestly if I do not take pity on myself, then I will not experience pity at all in my life and will be unable to pity you for your crass and deplorable behavior in this matter. If I don't feel the pity that needs to be felt for my past than how am I to recover from this tragic affair? I cannot recover and "get over it" as you so eloquently and hatefully put it, if there is no one that feels sorry for my life. If nobody feels sorry for what has happened than what has happened is not worth the pity you don't feel and therefore why feel bad if nobody feels sorry for you. This would bring you to the conclusion that there is nothing wrong with being molested, raped, suffering incest, being beaten, psychological and manipulative abuse. So if nobody feels bad about it and just says that there are worse lives, get over it you whining sissy. It must not be that bad of a life to have had even though I do believe it has been very trying on my me personally.



Now that we have established that there are lives worse off than mine, lets go find those individuals and help them to get through their tragic lives. What do think about that?



So I shall be even more brazen . If I am the daughter of a sociopath and was only raised by sociopathic people, wouldn't you want me to not turn to the learned behaviors of the parental figures in my life because I would become a menace to society just like they have been? Would you not then embrace somebody that is looking for the other side of the picture, needing to see love, kindness, peacefulness, joy, acceptance, prosperity and the like? You wouldn't want them to go and look for it everywhere never find it, would you? Because that is what has happened to me so far, to date in exactness. I am not bitter about it, so don't get your knickers in a bunch. I am sad about it. I must become who I am and sadly I am someone who does not know the other side of the spectrum.  I am tired of pretending in my life.  I am just fine and I don't need to know what it is like to have a life like you, you do.  I need to be free to look the way I do.  I look sad because I am sad, I look like I am in pain because I am in pain.  So don't tell me to go get happy and that there is hope for someone like me, then point to the nearest homeless shelter.  Because I am not buying it anymore.  I am lonely for anyone to give me a hug in person, sit and have a cup of joe, talk about going to a movie, not going to stand in bread line that is devastating to an already destroyed life.


There is no recovery for C-PTSD and supposedly it gets worse as you get older.  So I will be on your tax dollar for the rest of my life for what they did to me. You will be paying for a roof over my head and food in my belly, because when you run a non-profit that you started in the late sixties you learn how to dance around the tax laws.  Trust me on this one, they do not pay the same taxes as you and never have paid like you do. So, in the end my mother has the last laugh by never having to ever take care of anyone accept herself. Remember I suffered severe neglect from her since I was born. She has never taken care of me in my life. She farmed me out to anyone around at the time.  It was the church members that payed for everything I ever did with horses and they are not cheap.  My mother did not pay for anything, they paid for her too. So before you agree that all she should take care of is herself, know my story and know that she never felt differently than what I have posted here. I was an infant once in her care, think of it that way today and I bet you would be really upset that I was about to go and live in a homeless shelter.    As sick as that sounds it is true, so, don't be mad at me, I am just telling you what gets said and laughed about behind my families closed doors. There is no reason for me to be the next person that the tax payers have to pay for, for the rest of their lives, when my family is capable of stepping up to the plate and covering the costs of a victim of C-PTSD.  Especially since they are responsible for what is wrong with me.

This song is me, through and through when you listen to the lyrics I want you to know that it is exactly how it is in my life today, yesterday and what seems like what will be forever because I only know it one way, listen, it is how I know it to be. I hope you can find some way to relate to me. I would love to meet you and hear your story. I love to listen and I love to hear how people laugh, have family gatherings, fight with their siblings, tell funny stories of their parents when they met.  I live through the lives of others when I hear stories like this, I love it and it is the only way I know that life is not what has happened to me.  It used to give me hope for myself but the reality is simple, you cannot change what has happened, you can only choose to know that what has happened has made you who you are today.  I am a survivor of a life that has made me the person that I love, me. I am just like a Duracell, I keep going and going.

So, here is to my miracle man! I know you must be somewhere, I just cannot find you in this life time. I will continue to believe and have faith just like I know that you would make me promise to do if I knew you and you knew me.  Its getting worse and I think that I have to go soon. I will look for you in the stars at night, I will hold your hand in mine and I will hang on to the hope that we will meet someday randomly in the street.







In The Hour Of The Begin




I am tired of the beginning.
I am tired of the ending.
I stand in the middle,
I declare,
WIN!!

Exhaustion from running,
sets my internal clock.
As a member of life,
I will not plot.

The big hand is on my neck.
The little hand is my desire.
The second hand becomes the fire,
to wind the minds of liars.

Ticking down to what is zero,
becomes the blotted out lives,
of those that will not lie,
counting until they die.

Threats deliver the unstable,
reminding you of their label.
Insanity will not show me your innocence,
for it is an excuse,
use it no more.

You are as vigilant as I.
There is no compromise to buy.
Turn to any guy and ask,
"Are you for sale?"

"Yes" or "No" will prevail.
Sooner or later,
I will sail,
into the sunset to no avail.

The clock will strike,
the Eleventh hour.
It has arrived.
Time to testify to all your lies.

The Begin

Friday, June 10, 2011

Do we just keep running? Or can I stop today?



I need to keep going before they catch me up in all of the lies that they continue to tell themselves.  I am running towards a private life to know love, happiness, peace, and to know what it is when people say don't give-up there is always hope.  I run like a mad man to know these things before I am absorbed by my past that is creeping up on me.  As my family begins the hunt once again I stare at no one, I have no one, I am alone. This is not any different than any other time in my life.  I know that it may seem to you as sad or shocking but why?  You just don't know because you never ask and when you do I am told, "lots of people have worse lives than yours." 

After many years and great thought I am ready and aiming at all the people that refuse to see that evil lives next door and answers the doorbell when it rings.  It has dinner parties, Wednesday Night Salons, Christmas parties, Easter Egg Hunts, goes out to dinner, entertains the Grandchildren, pays for boarding schools, goes on vacation, pays the bills, drinks coffee, enjoys a hot cup of tea, is unemployed, or employed, owns their own business, has a non-profit, donates all their time, loves their children to death, never questioned, lots of friends and this probably is somebody you know personally.  You may work alongside of them, you may be taking a walk in the park and pass them on the path.  You could shop in all the same places, spend the same money on the same things.  You probably share the same hairdresser or barber.  You might even go to church at the same place.  Your kids might play together and you may find that you go to a movie tonight look over and see a relation to me.

I have never heard one person offer to help me.  Never has anyone offered to expose the lie.  Never does anyone that I have ever met in my entire life feel sorry for me. This is not because I look for it or expect it, so don't jump on any high horse with me.  I have only done one thing, that is to look for everything that I do not know.  I was not loved as a baby and I have been told that this causes great problems as an adult. I learned how to behave with the public at large, through The Brady Bunch, Little House on the Prairie and other T.V. shows along this line.  At eighteen I decided to look for everything that I seemed to be missing. Never did I go out and tell strangers, nor friends about my childhood.  Anything that they did find out was always well after meeting me. No pity, no compassion, no evidence of anything other than flight or total abandonment after the light had been shed on my life, usually by my family.  You see, every person that I ever had as a friend also new my mother and according to her she knew them first.  It is all fine and dandy, they always sympathize with her as she tells them the story of her possessed and demonic daughter.  How she is on the loose and preys upon the innocent lives of others.  She goes on to tell them how I never go home for dinner, how she must pay for my children, she must care for my children while I am busy being addicted to prescription drugs.  She goes on telling them that I have written and published a book of scandal about the family.  I am destroying the innocent lives of my brother and sister.  All the dreams they have had are being destroyed and all they want to do is work in the family business, keep their heads down and make an honest dollar.  My mother explains that she began a non-profit business that is helping autistic people like her daughter.  She will say and exploit every avenue to do only one thing, destroy the friendship permanently.

No matter what the reasoning is today, yesterday or tomorrow I have suffered a life of great tragedy and yet it is remarkable.  This is a quote from a psychiatrist that did a full report and recommendation for my life going forward. As just a person existing on this planet I have found no one that is or can relate to my story in person.  I have found on this site many others that seem to suffer my plight.  What I am most discouraged about generally is the lack of persons that will confront and hold responsible the monsters that have delivered such despair to so many.  As the offspring of a cult leader, a malignant narcissist or medically known as a sociopath, I declare to who may interested in my declaration of life the following.  I will proceed forward in the battle I have been in privately so far to expose and hold responsible those persons that answer the character description of a soul shatterer. I am tired of people that do not believe others when the distress in there voice can be heard from the words written in letters on blogs.  The simple act of being a person that chooses to not just exist here for their own pleasure brings me solace.

I am compelled to deliver a story to you about the lacking of sympathy to a person that has knowingly lived a life of pain and twisted agony.  I have learned more from the interaction I have had in life about how what I watched on the television as a child is just a lie and an imagination of things that are not real.  The character assassination of the average person should come from the severely neglected children of the world.  Had the layman not turned a blind eye in my youth than I would be in a different state of mind.  All I have proceeded in learning as an adult is to never talk about anything upsetting if it is you.  If it is gossip and about another than for fucks sake never end the conversation or attention into that person's private life. It is this fact that makes me squirm.  I hate it when people talk behind your back and as you make it into the room there is this uncomfortable silence.  Never forget I was raised by two, then three, then four, then a congregation of narcissistic prone adults, just learning from my mother how to advantage there life and there pocketbook.  It is in the coarse action of other people that I have seen lack of remorse or proper acknowledgement of their action in the crime against my life and the far bigger crime against humanity itself.

I was born into slavery and cannot declare my innocence because the belief of such an act is dismissed readily by everyone.  I want you to log-on to the following site and start at the end, reading your way through the entire blog.  I want you to count how many times slavery is referred too.  I also want you to recognize that you are not well-versed in the tongue of the malignant narcissist that speaks between the lines to testify to the actions.  This is done so that they can say behind the closed doors on any day, but I told you what I was doing, it is not my fault you did not read what I wrote on this public venue.  The layman needs a narcissists dictionary that has never been written.  I need the relief of the pain that I feel for myself to end today.  As the person that took me out of school along with my mother to educate me at home is running a Christian Home Education program on the net. She purports herself to be something that she never was to me, a private tutor. Make sure you read the entire sight before you question me in an appeal of this horror of a life I survive and continue to live on a daily basis.  Being frank and totally honest with you today, I have had to use the public that I meet in passing as the parental reference to proper behavior to become socially acceptable as an adult.  I quit my appeal to anyone in regards to what is proper or improper behavior when I find an active site that supports the malignant narcissists that are so openly and proudly speaking of there work. I have to support myself and my memories of the horrors that this person and people just like her perpetrated upon my life with my mother as a support.

At sixteen years old she gave me an examine in my mothers home.  She graded this test, looked at my mother and said the following, "she has a sixth grade education. We should start with fourth grade material and if I were fortunate she will catch on before it is too late to educate her properly."  My mother screamed Hallelujahs, jumped around in her bathrobe and said, "I knew I was right to pull her out of the school she was in, they said they were going back to the basics but obviously they have not."  I looked at both of them, stood-up, shut the book in front of me and said nothing.  I never saw another book, I never was given any material to educate myself with, fourth grade or not. This so called educator never returned to do any sort of education in my mothers home where I was to reside for the next two years in silence.  I sat until I was eighteen in that home of ill-repute. I could not leave or I would have been a truant. I don't do anything without great thought and even greater consideration of the repercussions on everyone concerned. To suffer at the hands of so many that are so capable is reprehensible.

Maybe I am just hot under the collar, but if you read this website and find that the program they use to educate children with is as deplorable as I feel it may be,  then help me stop the pain, so no other children suffer the agony of sitting and waiting while never being educated at all.  Just counting the days and the years until they hit eighteen.  Please read this poem all the way through before you continue to the website that I have posted below.  The pain is real, the agony is not bearable by many.  By best friend committed suicide over what happened to him.  Help me by helping the be voice of the innocent victims that cannot be heard today.  Sadly, by the time we can be heard and can decipher the web of confusion brought upon us by our parental figures, it is too late.  The damage has been done and cannot be reversed.  PTSD are avoidable in this instance if you can understand that evil just finds a new venue to perpetuate its message.  You cannot stop that which refuses to heed anything other than its own protection of the crime that they are committing against humanity.

For the children who were broken

For children who were broken
it is very hard to mend......
Our pain was rarely spoken
and we hid the truth from friends.

Our parents said they loved us,
but they didn't act that way.
They broke our hearts and stole our worth,
with the things that they would say.

We wanted them to love us.
We didn't know what we did
to make them yell at us and hit us,
and wish we weren't their kid.
They'd beat us up and scream at us
and blame us for their lives.
Then they'd hold us close inside their
arms and tell us confusing lies
of how they really loved us
-- even though we were BAD,
and how it was OUR fault they hit us,
OUR fault that they were mad.

When days were just beginning
we sometimes prayed for them to end,
and when the pain kept coming,
we learned to just pretend
that we were good and so were they
and this was just one of those days
...tomorrow we'd be friends.

We had to believe it so.
We had nowhere else to go.
Each day that we pretended,
we replaced reality
with lies, or dreams,
or angry schemes,
in search of dignity ....
until our lies got bigger
than the truth,
and we had no one real to be.

Our bodies were forsaken.
With no safe place to hide,
we learned to stop
hearing and feeling
what they did to our outsides.

We tried to make them love us,
till we hated ourselves instead,
and couldn't see a way out,
and wished that they were dead.
We scared ourselves by thinking that
and scared ourselves to know,
that we were acting just like them
--and might ever more be so.

To be half the size of a grown-
up and trapped inside their pain....
To every day lose everything
with no savior or refrain...
To wonder how it is possible
that God could so forget
the worthy child you knew you were,
when you had not been damaged yet ...

To figure on your fingers
the years till you'd be grown
enough to leave the torment
and survive away from home,
were more than you could count to,
or more than you could bear,
was the reality we lived in
and we knew it wasn't fair.

We who grew up broken
are somewhat out of time,
struggling to mend our childhood,
when our peers are in their prime.
Where others find love and contentment,
we still often have to strive
to remember we are worthy,
and heroes just to be alive.

Some of us are healing.
some of us are stealing.
Most are passing the anger on.
Some give their lives away to drugs,
or the promise of like beyond.

Some still hide from society.
Some struggle to belong.
But all of us are wishing
the past would not hold on so long.

There's a lot of digging down to do
to find the child within,
to love away the ugly pain
and feel innocence again.

There is forgiveness worthy of angel's
wings for remembering those at all,
who abused our sacred childhood
and programmed us to fall.

To seek to understand them,
and how their pain became our own,
is to risk the ground we stand on
to climb the mountain home.

The journey is not so lonely
as in the past it has been ...
More of us are strong enough
to let the growth begin.
But while we're trekking up the mountain
we need everything we've got,
to face the adults we have become,
and all that we are not.

So when you see us weary
from the day's internal climb ...
When we find fault with your best efforts,
or treat imperfection as purposeful crime ...
When you see our quick defenses,
our efforts to control,
our readiness to form a
plan of unrealistic goals ...

When we run into a conflict
and fight to the bitter end,
remember ....
We think that winning means
we won't be hurt again.

When we abandon OUR thoughts and feelings,
to be what we believe YOU want us to,
or look at trouble we're having,
and want to blame it all on you...
When life calls for new beginnings,
and we fear they re doomed to end,
remember...
Wounded trust is like a wounded knee--
It is very hard to bend.

Please remember this
when we are out of sorts.
Tell us the truth, and be our friend.
For children who were broken...
it is very hard to mend.

by Elia Wise

Start here and then click on the site I have posted, I did.  I am sure that I will not have any support, as I never have known support in helping to stop or expose the crimes or cons of narcissists.  A con is con, a rose called by any other name is still a rose.  My older sister Tam and her words that I have grown so tired of hearing in past years but seems so appropriate today. 
 
http://philomathfoundation.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=14&Itemid=37&limit=8&limitstart=48