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?
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,

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