Start with the blank canvas of a child’s mind… Add in chaos, broken rules and self confirming false realities… Isolate the child from normal.. tell the child this is normal… this is in fact the good life… Tell the child that all that is upside down, abusive, chaotic, and bad around them is right and good.. Tell the child that the real problem is the child, if the child disagrees with the upside down world that is because the child is the one who misunderstands… Treat the child as messed up, confused, crazy, unreliable. Treat any truth the child finds that tells him his world is upside down as something to fear and avoid… Blame the chaos on the child.. tell the child that they caused all the problems in life, they are the source. Flip reality where the parents are the victims. Where the parents feel mistreated by the child. Where everything the parents do is right and correct and the everything the child does is wrong and bad…. Where do you think this leaves the child?
Who was I as a little girl? I was curious, playful , joyful, innocent. But who I was was greatly effected by where I was. Where was I as a little girl? I was in a prison of an abusive house. I drew a picture of my house as a little girl, it was black, dark and unfriendly. This is where I lived.
My world was upside down and backwards… But it was the only world I knew.. I was told by my parents my world was a good world. My parents tried so hard to put on airs of the good family living the good life… Everyone around believed the airs… I knew nothing different, I was a child that came to them with a blank canvas of a mind. I believed this was the good life, this was normal… Let me give you a peek into one of the moments my world was flipped upside down the most.
This is about my father. My father was a pedophile. I believe he started molesting me as a baby. I know he raped me as a seven year old several times and molested me as a teenager.
My brain was protected from the rapes. I remember before the rape my dad coming into my room and giving me the impression that we were to be married. I remember that this challenged all my views of the world and right and wrong. I had allot of questions about how that could be possible. But I could not ask my questions, he was in a position of authority and asking them would be disrespectful As a child I had no ground to stand on. I believed my father was the authority in the situation, I believed he was right. I did not challenge him. I challenged myself. I rewrote my rules of the world to include the fact that fathers can have a marriage like relationship with their daughter.
I needed someone to comfort me, to show me love, and tell me it would be OK. My dad happily steps into this role. We talk for long hours on the couch, as he pretends to be my therapist. I tell him teenage sorrow after sorrow. According to him everything going wrong or bad in my life had one source, my mom. As I poured out my problems to him he taught me how every one of these problems came from my mother. Every conversation, no matter where it started at, always got wrapped around to talking about how my mother messed me up so bad. In this way my fake “counselor father” taught me how to blame my mother for everything. He taught me that I was horribly mistreated by my mother. The conversations continued until I had been fully won over and I could see for myself how my mother was the cause of all of my problems.
My father was my hero. My idol. My therapist My leader. I went to him with every problem I ever had in my life, and he told me exactly what to do. I lived a life for pleasing him. I lived to become the person he wanted me to be.