we grew up in a pretty shit household where one never really knew how to exist in a space if we weren’t told what sort of person was required for the situation. we were under the thumb and wills of adults who made demands, had expectations and gave orders that children shouldn’t/couldn’t be relied upon to keep. it is why we never became one singular human unit to begin with- we never were treated as people, but as robotic means to an end.
nothing was rewarded. everything was punishable. the examples given were of screaming matches and threats of violence (yes, “back in my day, my mom would beat me if i-” is a threat. it implies that the parent could, and have no qualms resorting to physical abuse if they hit a certain limit) were incredibly normalized.
in being treated the way we were, one message became clear: we weren’t people. we were a means to an end, we were doctors and therapists and scholars and performers and models and monkeys in cages for the purpose of gawking. we were anything but children. anything but people. we figured out, with the help of a therapist, that what happened to us was undeniably abuse, for it impaired the way we functioned as people to extents greater than we know.
hell, we exist as a coalition of many, and not a singular being. there are hundreds of alters yet to be found, each one holding an oddly specific but nonetheless devastating memory of our childhood.
you deprive a child of love and care when you reinforce ideals through hurt and angst. that’s it. there’s nothing more to it. that’s all i got here. i don’t know why im even posting on here but God, i have to scream this into a void somehow before i dissolve.
– x
november crowbar 