honeyjars-sims · 8 months ago
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2.27 Old Wounds
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TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains C-PTSD flashbacks relating to child abuse. While not graphic, please use your own discretion in continuing with this post if those topics are triggering or upsetting to you.
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Bonnie: I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for coming out to celebrate my birthday with me. We’ve been through a lot as a family, but I’m so glad that we’re all here together now.
Johnny: Happy birthday, Mom!
Chantal and Destiny: Happy birthday!
Trinity: Just cut the cake already!
[laughter]
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Johnny: So you’re the kid who’s dating my little sister. What’s your deal? Got a job yet?
Demarcus: No, sir, I’m only 12.
Johnny: Hmm. Well, I hope you’re treating my sister right. I know how 12-year-old boys are. I was one, after all.
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[Johnny starts to put his hand on Demarcus’ shoulder]
Demarcus: Ah! Don't hurt me!
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[Johnny has a flashback of Jimmy: Don't be such a brat and I won't have to!]
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Johnny: I won't, why would you think that?
Demarcus: I dunno. Isn’t that what big brothers do?
Johnny: No! I was just messing with you. I would never…I’ll be back.
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[Johnny goes to the bathroom to compose himself] 
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Bonnie: [holding Darien] And there’s your Auntie Chantal!
Chantal: Hey sweet boy!
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Destiny: Sorry Mom, I’m gonna have to take him back so I can put him down for a nap. 
Bonnie: Aw, sweet dreams little guy! [to Chantal] Doesn’t he make you want one of your own?
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Chantal: Nope! I’m done with men anyhow.
Bonnie: I can’t blame you for that one. They cause nothin’ but trouble.
[The front door opens]
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Trinity: Dad!
Jimmy: Hey princess! I thought I’d stop by to say hello since I didn’t get to see you this weekend.
Chantal: Mom, what the fuck? Why is he here?
Bonnie: Jimmy, I told you not to come!
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Jimmy: Relax, I’ll just be a second. Hey, Johnny! Listen, I've been wanting--
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Chantal: Don’t you fucking get near him!
Destiny: Stay back, Jimmy!
Jimmy: I just want to apologize!
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[Chantal and Destiny block Jimmy from getting near Johnny. Johnny runs out of the apartment]
Bonnie: Johnny! Wait!
[Everyone follows Johnny outside]
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Chantal: Jimmy, get the fuck out of here before I fucking end you!
Destiny: Leave, Jimmy!
Jimmy: Fine, I’m leaving! This wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t such a pussy.
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Destiny: [to Bonnie] We’ve got him.
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Johnny: [to Chantal] Please take me home.
Bonnie: Johnny, I’m so sorry, I told him not to come. I–
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Chantal: Stop! You’ve done enough. Let’s go, bubs.
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decrepithag · 4 years ago
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Shoutout to all the chronically ill kids living with abusive parents
Shoutout to the kids that get told to “suck it up” instead of getting the help they need
Shoutout to the kids that have severe illnesses that aren’t allowed to take any medication and can barely function because of it
Shoutout to the kids whose parents force them to go to school/work even if they’re on the floor screaming in pain
Shoutout to the kids whose illness(es) have made them lose a lot of weight only for their parents to tell them that they should be happy about the weight loss instead of getting them checked out
Shoutout to the kids that still get beaten even if they’re in a severe amount of pain
Shoutout to the kids that wake up miserable and wanting to die just from pain alone and then have to deal with abusive parents all day
Shoutout to the kids whose parents believed their illness(es) the week they got diagnosed but then immediately went back to their old shitty ways
Shoutout to the kids with migraine disorders/that struggle with sensory overload that have to deal with their parents yelling at them and then forcing them to do housework or go to school/work
Shoutout to the kids that can’t leave because of their illness(es)
Shoutout to the kids that have to sit here and read posts/watch videos where other chronically ill kids talk about how amazing and helpful their family is while they sit there and pretend that they could relate even a tiny bit
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jeffacakes · 6 years ago
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Is it bad to slap a woman because she keeps hitting her child and saying ‘You’re not a little boy you’re a little girl’ because I’m straight up about to take a bitch out
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aspieaunty18-blog · 7 years ago
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Australian Courts are letting child rapists and child abusers walk away with NO jail time simply because they are WOMEN, and more innocent children will fall victim if our Justice System continues to offer more offenders a "Get Out Of Jail Free Card" if they happen to be female.
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theflamingbuddhist · 7 years ago
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#twchronicillness
#twchildabuse
When I was a kid I spent a lot of time fantasizing and wishing that I’d fall in a coma. This struck me as both morbid and dramatic, so I never talked about it, but it was one of my most sustaining fantasies. After all, it was only a hideous and random accident away and offered the promise of transportation, via time and grief, to a place where my life might be more like what I needed. I didn’t stress too much about what would induce this coma, rather I fantasized about how great it would be to wake up ten years later, older, and suddenly free. Most of all, I fantasized about how it would affect my family, how it would suddenly thrust me into being seen and cared for. Of course I happen to be an exceedingly literal person, and this fantasy was always tempered by the knowledge that coma or no, I’d still have to finish school which was one vector of misery in my life that has always been a known entity. Still the fantasy of importance and of feeling cared for endured.
When I was five or so I was pretending to be a teacher reading a book on a short stool, fell off, and fractured my elbow. Despite the obvious swelling and pain, nobody took me to the hospital or even a doctor, for three days. My mom gave me a cold washcloth to put on it, and the implied message to buck the fuck up and stop complaining so much.This whole event might be my earliest memory that’s sequential and event based - I remember pretending to be a teacher and reading the book out loud, I remember falling, and I remember going to a very dark place of pain and fear. I remember laying awake in the dark, in horrible pain, running a fever, and wondering why nobody was helping me. No one has ever provided any kind of explanation for this, except for the implied story that I’ve always been too dramatic and so who could have known this was serious. I don't remember anyone apologizing either, not even when the x-ray showed a near clean break through my elbow.
About five years ago, I was partially diagnosed with a serious and largely incurable condition that has a 25% chance of killing me within ten years of diagnosis via major organ involvement. I remember sitting in my miserably basic social work grant writing class and seeing my phone display a number I’d come to recognize, but at the time had never seen. I’d recently gone to the doctor to enquire about the multitude of ways in which I felt like shit all the time, partially inspired by new love’s love of her own anti-depressants and thinking maybe I could have that too, and walked out with a shiny new diagnosis of fibromylagaia. I’d undergone about fifteen vials of bloodwork that visit, and had been told not to even worry about, it’d just be ruling stuff out and I “only” had fibromylagia, most likely.
I stepped out of the class, grateful for the break and expecting to hear only routine news. Instead, the director of the University of Michigan’s Medical center, whom had a taken special interest in my case, told me my bloodwork had multiple markers for a serious disease that’s comprised of several autoimminue diseases put together. He told me I needed to see a rheumatologist ASAP, but that the wait would be months. I returned to class, stunned but not totally freaked out, and began googling. Then I freaked out.
I’m not totally sure how it was that people in life my came to know about this, probably me texting and calling to tell them, but I do remember what happened - nothing. No family member rushed to visit as I’d seen them do when my siblings were sick, I don’t even really remember anyone calling or saying much of anything about it. This still baffles me. Just more dramatic news maybe? Perhaps I hadn’t tried enough cold compresses?
Since getting this diagnosis, my life has changed in more ways than I can count or could have imagined. Many of these changes have been things that challenged my concepts about everything from the meaning of work in one’s life, notions of the self and what endures through sickness (pro-tip: you are not who or even what you think you are), to what it means to be cared for in the world. I’ve experienced profound joy and happiness, and have been held and supported by many strangers in many small ways. I’ve also experienced more pain and sadness than anyone person should really have to bear already, so I’m not sure how I will survive another fifty years or so in what my life has become.
If my fantasy of falling into coma was about a message of care and importance, what I have instead received is silence. These days, I don’t have any friends to speak of*, I have one family member who texts me every couple of weeks, and despite loving many things about myself and life, I’m about out of hope. Everyday is an exhausting grind of following an ultra strict diet and often starving as a result, pushing myself to work or do things through pain that’s usually at a level 7/10 in more than one place, and knowing that each day further into this just alienates me more because at this point no one can seemingly relate to all this in the first place. The people I do know are offput by anger or prefer the stance of pitying me, but can’t seem to connect that into a stance of offering anything more consistent. These days I have a face-to-face non-work based conversation maybe once every three months and honestly my efforts to work on this haven’t yielded much, even when I’ve asked people for more.
Still. I suppose all this nothingness might someday become no-thingness and maybe then I won’t lay in the dark anymore wondering why no one is caring for me through this pain. Or there’s always that coma.
*no offense intended to the ten kind souls who interact with my social media from time-to-time and reach out once every six weeks/six months (you’re literally all I have at this point lol
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warmhappycat · 6 years ago
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Just something I’ve been thinking about. For sources on the original meaning of the Bible, swipe left. (The entire PowerPoint I made about this is on Facebook, but be warned it’s a few years old and in retrospect wasn’t well formatted.) #twrape #twchildabuse #twcsa
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fuckyeahifightlikeagirl · 11 years ago
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http://hiphopandpolitics.com/2014/04/16/tale-two-mothers-america-post-racial-society/
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON.  Neither of these women were in the right. But seriously the white woman in this story should be punished a lot more severely, her infant was in FAR more danger. Fucking all of my rage right now. ALL OF IT. -H
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sexymysti13 · 11 years ago
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My horrible story
I have a great memory when I do remember things. Quite often I can look at a map and will be able to memorise where things are pretty quickly. And I still remember places from when I was a child even if we only went their once. But when I do remember it is like someone else is in control. It doesn’t feel like me. I feel like I am sitting their in my mind and watching while someone else takes over for a while. Though it annoys me that this happens and quite often I can’t remember other things that I feel deep down happened. I have memories that I see the beginning of…then I get scared and the memory go black…then after the seemingly deleted scene I am floating above and watching myself keeping my head down. I have one particular memory like this. I am at my aunties father in laws house. We are there for lunch. I am sitting on the lounge room floor colouring in with my sister. He has been watching me like he is hungry and wants to eat me. He had been constantly topping up my lemonade so I needed to pee really badly. I go up to mum and tell her I need to go to the toilet in my shy quiet voice. He pipes up and tells me to use the ensuite bathroom toilet…the one in his room, because the other toilet is broken. I go to the bathroom. I hear him say he needs to get something from the bedroom. The walls are thin so I hear it clearly. When I am finished I flush and wash my hands. I come out to see him closing his bedroom door and I am frozen to the spot. I hear a click on the door like there is a lock on it. When he starts walking towards me everything go black. The next thing I remember is floating above the scene of him letting me out of his room and telling me “if you tell anyone I will hurt your sister”. I watch myself walk with my head down. I don’t look at anybody. I feel like I am going to cry but I can’t otherwise my sister will get hurt. I go back and sit and colour in. Later he comes over putting his hand on my right shoulder and rubs his thumb against my neck. He comments on how good I am at staying within the lines. I am rigid and scared. From then on I never let my sister out of my site when he is around. I even follow her to the bathroom and stand guard outside the door. I never ever go to the bathroom without my sister again when I am not at home. I have another memory of him too. I am at a park. We are having a picnic with a whole lot of people including several of his nieces and nephews. I am not letting her out of my sight. She is getting annoyed and keeps running away. We are up high on the playground when he walks over to us. He tells my sister that he has something special for her and if she meets him behind the toilet block he will give it to her. She has to go alone and not let anyone see her go. I crawl over and in a strong voice say to him “no you will not hurt my sister”. He walks away and she is fuming at me. I remember mentioning this memory to her a couple of years ago and she told me how angry she was with me, but was thankful now because he was convicted of child molestation (of my cousin which I blame myself for). Nobody knows what he did to me…even I don’t know. All I know is what I feel and what I feel makes me sick. I also have another memory. I am at my aunties wedding. I am a bridesmaid at 10 years old. I am following my sister as usual. She goes up to mums table so I follow. Mums uncle is there and he takes hold of my arm when my dad leaves to go to the bathroom. He then starts going on about me looking 16 and that I’m beautiful. I try to pull away and he digs his thumb into my armpit so nobody can see and it is hurting me whenever I try to move. I look at my mum with tears in my eyes and she tells me “don’t be scared he is just playing”. He starts trying to get me to tell him I am 16. I keep saying I am 10. “Oh come on.. Stop lying…you are 16…tell me you are 16… Legal age”. My dad comes back and he let’s go. I bolt. I frantically look for my sister. She has been out of my sight too long. I find her. Then I hear my name and a chill runs down my back. I turn and look up this person. It is my aunties father in law. I scream at him ” get away from me”. The music is loud so nobody hears me. He walks away. I follow my sister around until she finally falls asleep in mums lap. 2 years later mum, dad, my sister and I move away to another state. I start having nightmares. I tell my mum that I think I was raped when I was young. She starts thinking aloud that maybe my dads dad (because dads sisters accused my grandfather years earlier) did it or her uncle (because one of my mums sisters warned her about him when she was young), but then she goes “no it can’t have happened. It must be teenage hormones kicking in. I was just 13. I am now in therapy and I still go from yes it happened to no it didn’t. I can’t remember what happened, so how am I ever going to accept it?
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honeyjars-sims · 9 months ago
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2.7 Opening Up
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Lexie: It’s too bad we got assigned to set design for the first production, but at least we’ll be able to hang out together. 
Johnny: Yeah, it looks like most of the acting roles went to the juniors and seniors. Maybe next year we’ll have better luck.
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Lexie: Well, the semester’s just getting started. Who knows what will happen. We could impress them with our sick acting skills and get the leads next time. 
Johnny: [laughing] I support your delusional optimism! Oh, I almost forgot…my mom wanted me to tell you hi and that she enjoyed meeting you.
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Lexie: Hmm, that��s nice of her. I guess let her know I said hi as well.
Johnny: [teasingly] You’re not going to say it was nice to meet her too?
Lexie: No comment.
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Johnny: I don’t blame you! Honestly, it went better than I was expecting.
Lexie: Really? That's kind of sad.
Johnny: Yeah, unfortunately, that was just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my mom. 
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Lexie: Well, it really bothered me how she was speaking about you. I kept trying to change the subject, but she’d always end up making some snarky little comment. 
Johnny: I’m used to it, I guess. The thing is, if I’d called her out she’d say I was overreacting. In the past, I would’ve believed her, but now…not so much.
Lexie: Good, because she’s wrong about you. I can’t imagine how it affected you to hear that as a child, or even now.
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Johnny: [sighs] I wish I could say that was the worst thing I had to deal with as a kid, but it wasn’t by a long shot. If you don’t mind, I think I’m ready to talk to you about it.
Lexie: Of course. You can tell me anything. Let's go somewhere more private.
TW: The dialogue below includes discussion of child abuse and drug abuse (not graphic but please use your own discretion if this topic is triggering to you).
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Johnny: It wasn’t just my mom who treated me badly. It was also her husband, Jimmy. I refuse to call him my stepdad because he wasn’t any kind of parent to me. He was way worse, though. With my mom it’s this kind of passive aggressive backhanded shit, but Jimmy? He was full-on aggressive. Not just with his words, either. 
Lexie: Oh my God, he hurt you? Johnny, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was that bad.
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Johnny: Yeah, it was pretty awful. I started having nightmares and I was anxious all the time. I tried to talk to my mom about it, but I was too scared to tell her what was really going on so she thought I was just being dramatic. 
Lexie: Geez, I can’t imagine my parents just brushing me off like that. You must have been terrified.
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Johnny: I was. It only got worse when my mom started doing drugs. By that time I was old enough to start fighting back and all the blame fell on me. Jimmy almost convinced mom to send me to military school but then my dads got custody of me and Chantal.
Lexie: Thank God for your dads! 
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Johnny: For real, I’m so grateful for them. It’s weird, though…whenever a kid gets away from their abusive family, everyone expects them to be happy about it. No one ever talks about all the mixed emotions. I knew I was better off with my dads, but I still thought about the good times I had with my mom. It was hard to leave her.
Lexie: I think I understand more why you’re still trying to work things out with her. It sounds like the whole situation was really traumatic for you.
Johnny: Yeah, even when I wasn’t talking to her I always had this feeling of “what if?” Like maybe there is a way to fix everything and make it go away.
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Lexie: Some things can’t be fixed, no matter how hard you try. I don’t know if your relationship with your mom is one of them, but I hope you’ll recognize when it’s time to let go if it comes to that.
Johnny: I think I will. I’m going to give it more time, but I’m starting to feel like…like I deserve better. I didn’t feel that way before.
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Lexie: You deserve so much better, Johnny. You’re so much more than what your mom sees you as. And Jimmy. He better hope I never see him ‘cause I’ll kick him right in the balls!
Johnny: [laughing] Lexie! I’ve never heard you so angry before. I can’t see you doing something like that, you’re too sweet.
Lexie: I’d do it to him! And I’d enjoy watching him suffer. Oh, sorry, I probably shouldn’t be so violent about it. It just really got me worked up. 
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Johnny: It’s ok. You’re cute when you’re protective.
Lexie: Well, consider me your bodyguard, then.
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honeyjars-sims · 2 years ago
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Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.
As Jimmy headed to the bar where Bonnie worked, he could feel the anger pulsing through his veins as though it were the only thing keeping his heart beating. There didn't need to be a reason for the rage to boil up within him; the feeling came naturally, often in the absence of reason. He wasn't sure why he was feeling that way tonight, but then he was never one for self-reflection.
Regardless, Jimmy had a few reasons to be on edge lately. His relationship with Bonnie was tense at best and the pressure of job hunting was getting to him. Jimmy had always held traditional values of manhood: Men are strong, don't show emotion, and provide for their families. In his current situation, his wife was the one earning money and he was stuck at home with the kids, 3 of which weren't even his.
God, those kids. Bonnie was a lax parent who let them rule the roost. The younger ones yelled or cried all the damn time, were in and out of bed as they pleased, and wouldn't bathe or do their homework unless they were forced. He tried to lay down the law, but Bonnie just looked the other way. Those kids really knew how to push his buttons.
It wasn't like that in his home, that's for certain. His dad was authoritarian and his mom backed up all of his decisions as the man of the house. If asked he would tell you the beatings made him the man he is today, which was true…but not in the way he meant it. He didn't see the connection between the violence he experienced in his childhood and the fury he felt, which costed him jobs and relationships and earned him a criminal record.
As he walked into the bar, his eyes surveyed the room. Suddenly he saw his wife's boss yelling at her, and the anger began seeping out through his fingers, finally leaving his body. He had acquired his target for the night. After some begging from Bonnie, he was able to rein it in…this time. The next target might not be so lucky.
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