Tornado John: The Demolition of a Family Unit

Perhaps it is time for me to rewrite my story.  When I began writing, I began before placing both feet on the road to recovery.  I shared every thought, every feeling, everything that was happening to me at the moment I was writing and the days and weeks which led up to it.  My writing digressed into other topics and faded in and out through different time frames.

I have placed both feet on Recovery Lane and started the long journey through discovering who I am and who those around me are and begun to put things into perspective.  I am learning to put the past in the past and to let go of those things which I cannot change.  It is a long process in which I am unsure where it ends, if there is an end at all.  I hope and pray that at the end of this journey, I will land where my happiness lies – true, unblemished happiness.  I have to believe that regardless of my doubts.

This is the beginning of putting my life back in order.  To rewrite my story now that my head has cleared and the spinning out of control has ceased.  I hope to be able to get through the construction of a family, the remodeling, the fresh new smell, the first tornado warning, the tornado, and finally, picking up the debris and putting together as many pieces as could be saved along with what was lost along the way.

I enjoy writing metaphorically.  I believe it adds a bit of entertainment value which makes the story a little less depressing.  The past is the past.  There is no going back.  Nothing will ever be as it once was.  I accept that.  Every piece will not be found.  Not all damages will be repaired.  Not all repairs are my responsibility to make.  I will fight my battles and leave the battles of others for them to fight. 

This is the reality, ugly truths included, and I accept it for what it is.  Who knows.  Maybe someday I will turn it all into a book.  If I call it fiction, more people will read it.  It’s easier to read with the belief that it’s not real than to face it as a reality of life.

Yours Truly,

Mel,

Saved by God’s Grace

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Has the Truth Ever Passed Though Your Lips?

Dispelling Rumors

This is my son, Johnny.  Now, I did not give birth to him.  He has an Angel Momma.  I did watch him take his first steps and hear him speak his first words and I love him ever so much.  Johnny has a special story that he and I will be telling.  I wish I had seen him before he was shipped off to his “dad’s” parent’s house way back when.  You see his black eyes in his first two baby pictures?  Those were neither the first bruises nor the last that his “dad” inflicted on him.  See, His “dad” is a Narcissistic Sociopath.  People like that place roles on the children in the home.  Johnny’s role was the Scapegoat.  The following defines scapegoating and how Johnny was treated in the home with the encouragement of his “dad”.  Why?  I have a theory.  I will tell you all about it…

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Letters to our Fathers

Letters to our fathers is a special project I have decided to take on.  My goal is to publish a compilation of letters written by those who have suffered or are currently suffering abuses at the hands of their fathers.  Before anyone says it, yes, I know mothers abuse children too, but for this particular project, I will be focusing on the father.

My hopes are for this project to serve multiple purposes.  I want to do more than just BREAK THE SILENCE.  I want to SHATTER it.  I want to make so much noise that we wake up the whole world.  Alright, so that may be pushing it just a bit.  I will settle for waking up a dozen people for every letter that’s published.  Several things have occured in the recent past that have led me to come up with this idea and begin this project.  I’ll start from the beginning, but I will be brief, with only that which directly pertains to this particular article.

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As I began my adventure down the path of healing, memories and thoughts of past and present events flooded my mind.  Everything was all mixed up.  The more I learned about the abusive situations my children experienced, the worse it got.  My head spun.  I was in information overload.  I needed to know everything that happened while I was at work and while I was asleep and I needed to remember it all.  I began to make a note each time I remembered something or heard something.  I would make the note right away using whatever method of writing I had at the time.  I made notes in emails to myself, on envelopes and slips of paper, in the notepad on my cell phone, in noebooks if one was near by, and my mind began to clear.  I began to think clearly.  That was a start.  It was still a mess.  My notes were scattered and disorganized and I couldn’t find a thing.  That made me frantic; my head started spinning again.  I was so consumed and overwhelmed with all of this that I couldn’t focus on my everyday tasks at work and at home.  I had to get back in control.  I had to take back the power that my ex-narcso took from me.  I could not allow him to continue to consume every minute of my days.

Wear your tragedies as armor

When I was younger and bad things happened, I would write.  Writing helped me put everything into perspective and clear my mind.  I needed everything in one place and I needed to tell my story.  I began a blog.  My ex-narcso reads my blog.  He mentions some of the things I write to others.  He isn’t too happy about it but I am not writing for his happiness.  I am writing to clear my mind, organize my memories, put things into perspective, regain my power and let others know they are not alone.  Exposing him for what he truely is happens to be a consequence of my actions and I am perfectly OK with that.  I refused to continue to be his victim.  I became a warrior to protect my children and see that they get the justice they deserve.  He attacked and I fought back.  He attacked again and I fought back again.  Each time I fought back, I grew stronger.  I began to win some battles.  The healing that comes from defeating your abuser is strong.  Eventually, he had no power left over me and I won every battle.  The battle continues, but he is wearing out and he is now playing the victim.  He attacks, he loses. then he cries about it.  Isn’t that something?

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My biggest fear is one day being as oblivious to my children's sufferings as my parents were to mine.

My daughter posted this on her FB page. The comment she made with it was along the lines of “How fitting for my life”.

Originally, I began looking for a way to give others who have been abused an opportunity to tell their stories and begin to take their power back. Some of my children have told portions of their stories and they have been published.  They have their power back.  People try to silence us.  We will not be silent.  If you cannot look the truth in the eye because it is too ugly to look at, then you have a problem.  How can you protect your children from the evils of the world if you refuse see it?  Knowledge is power.  Ignorance is bliss.  I understand those cliche’s now.  There are grave dnagers in remaining blissfully ignorant.  I’ve seen people say they know these things happen, they just don’t want to hear about it or read about it.  My reply to them is along the lines of informing them that I knew they existed too and I didn’t want to hear or read about them.  I was blissfully ignorant.  My children suffered for many years and I never even seen the signs.  How could I?  I didn’t know what the signs were.  I ignored the truths of the world because they were too ugly to look at and my ignorance left me unable to protect my children from them.

We cannot be silent.  We ust break the silence, tell or stories, take control and raise awareness abour the ugly truths.  In doing this, we heal ourselves.

If you or somebody you know has expierenced abuse by his or her father, and you want the father to hear what you have to say to him, I am collecting letters to fathers for this project.  Those letters will be published sometime in the next two weeks.  You can write them anonymously or you can use names.  I used to write anonymous but I am no longer afraid.  I am not ashamed.  It is not my fault.  The opinions of others no longer matter.  I have to do this for me.  I need to heal so I can help my children continue to heal.  I am not a victim.  I am a warrior.

2014-12-08 20.59.56-2If you aren’t sure what to write, here are some ideas.  Tell your father what he did to you.  Be graphic if you want to.  Tell him how it made you feel.  Tell him what you wanted and needed him to be for you.  Tell him what successes you have had without his help.  Tell him is you want to be in his life or not.  Tell him if you plan to tell your children they have a grandfather or not. 2014-12-05 02.56.06 Tell him anything and everything you want him to hear.  If you provide me with his contact information, I will do everything I can to see to it that he is aware of your letter to him and where to find it to read it.  If he knows about it, he will read it.  It’s part of who they are.  They have to know what others are saying about them.  Exposing them is worse than imprisoning them in their minds.  At least in prison they can still play the victim and claim they were falsly accused.  Expose them, and you take away their victim card.

Email your letters to melliving@icloud.com and write Letters to our Fathers in the subject line so I’ll know what it is and it won’t end up labled spam.  Some of my children are writing letters too.  There is strangth in nubers and together we are much stronger than them.  We have truth and Grace on our side.  They cannot hurt us.2015-01-03 09.07.46-2

With the business out of the way, I wanted to send a message to somebody who made a comment about my methods of breaking the silence.

 Screenshot_2014-12-11-11-44-01_2-1Ms. Rugersmom, why do you feel sorry for my children?  Do you know how many children I have?  Do you know how old they are?  Do you know their stories?  What do you think breaking the silence means and where did you get that idea from?  Once it is on the internet, it never goes away.  I would hope not!  Why would we not blast it out everywhere?  Thank you for your opinion but I am here to tell you it is based on ignorance.  Blissful ignorance.  We don’t want your smpathy.  Don’t you poor babies my children.  You have no idea the paths we have been down nor what it takes to repair the damages that have been done.  Lies about us have been blasted on the internet.  Are we to sit in silence and allow ourselves to continue to be abused or should we stand up for ourselves and fight back?  I suggest you open your eyes lady.  It is the monsters that want us to remain silent and when you want us to remain silent as well, you are helping the monsters.  Think about it.  You can reply to me in the comment section and I will be sure to publish it.2014-12-27 06.18.45

 Screenshot_2015-01-05-04-17-16-2This one comes from a friend of the enemy.  He cannot handle the ugly truth.  It is too ugly for him to see.  The sad part is that he has children.  I just hope he does not allow his children to be in John’s care without any other adults around to keep watch.  Mr. Mead, what part of the truth are you afraid of?  I shall not be shutting my yap anytime soon.  It’s ugly all right but I am not afraid like you are.  I will repeat it where ever and when ever it needs to be repeated.  You may also reply to me in the comments section and I will publish your comment as well.

opinionatedTo the both of you, do some research and educate yourselves.  It is unwise to speak about things you have no knowledge of.  You make yourselves look foolish.  I am glad that once something is on the Internet, it is there forever. 2014-12-08 20.59.56-1 - Copy Be blessed,

~Mel, Saved by God’s Grace
growing in gods grace

Fake?

I think it is quite comical that only AFTER I expose you as a fraud – a liar – a fabricator (lol…pun not intended there) – one who pretends to be something they are not – the great pretender of a narcissistic sociopath that you are – NOW you decide to spread falsehoods that I am fake.  You slipped.  You’re losing it.  Narcs are a step ahead – always a step ahead but you slipped up.  You must not have been expecting that.  People are like mirrors to your kind.  You take the positive qualities of others and attribute them to yourself while at the same time attributing your negative qualities onto them.  The whole “she’s fake, I’m the only one that’s real in this entire mess” crap you are spewing is a perfect example of that.  Since day one, you have lied to me about everything.  You are not who you said your were.  Your education is not what you said it was.  Your occupation is not as you claimed it to be.  Your first marriage didn’t end the way you said it ended.  The people you said I had to stay away from because they were out to get me, only wanted to get to know me.  They had no ill feelings towards me.  My once close friend you said I should stop hanging out with because she was using me to get you, she wasn’t trying to take you from me.  From day one – you have manipulated everything using underhanded tactics, lies, rumors, and you did it so subtly, I didn’t even notice.

So, when did I realize you were that big of a fraud?  It may have been when I read the text messages between you and my daughter which revealed the full extent of the sick and twisted relationship you manufactured with her and that you never returned to reconcile with me;  you returned to try to reconcile with her.  You’re a disgustingly sick minded individual.  To think that is natural and healthy and there is nothing wrong with it one would have to be completely demented, warped and illogical.  But that wasn’t when I realized how big of a fraud you really are.  That moment came after reading your response to my motion to strike your request for reconsideration of the divorce decree.  More specifically, the child support.  When I filled out the worksheet for child support, I used the low end of the average income for a mechanic.  You attended Cochise College and took the mechanics course that placed you at the dealership where you acquired your ASE certification.  Your occupation is mechanic.  The instructions say to use the income of the party’s occupation if the party is willingly unemployed.  You quit your job at the RV repair place.  Quitting a job is becoming willingly unemployed.  You listed Cochise College under education on your Facebook page.  Your business cards specifically state ‘ASE Certified’.  I did the paperwork exactly how it was to be done.

You protested.  In your request, you told the Court that you were not a mechanic and had never been employed as a mechanic nor had any formal training as a mechanic.  I submitted documentation demonstrating that you had been worked in that capacity and claimed to have such training.  You replied that I had been misinformed or was padding your resume to get more money out of you.  I was confused.  Then, after a few phone calls, the confusion cleared up.  You were right about something.  I was misinformed.  I was misinformed by you.  You never attended Cochise College.  That was a lie.  You were never employed at the dealership.  That was a lie.  You never obtained your ASE certification.  That was a lie.  You never quit the job at the RV repair place.  You were fired.  I wondered what else you had lied about, so I dug further and the further I dug, the more lies came to light.  After sorting through all the lies, there was no truth to be found and it hit me.  Our entire life together, all 12-14 years of it, was a lie.  Nothing was real.  You never once told me the truth about anything.  I don’t know who you are but I know what you are.  You are a monster behind the mask that you wear, a sick, twisted, demented and ugly monster.

imageGo ahead and tell all the falsehoods about me that you wish to tell.  The intelligent people will see that it is I who worked, paid the bills, took care of the kids, and was the responsible adult.  They will see that you have contact with 0/6 of the children involved while I have contact with 6/6 of them.  Your friends have already witnessed you abuse your other friends and your children.  They hear the things you come up with about how the whole world is against you but they don’t see the things you tell them are going on.  They don’t see them because they don’t exist.  Your entire existence is a lie.  You are a fraud.  No one has heard a truth from you.  You can’t tell the truth.  You can’t accept who you are so you mirror others that you want to be like.  You claim to be so much better than everyone else.  You claim you are grown up and spew filth about how others, and I, need to grow up.  You say you need custody of our boy to raise him to be a real man.  Newsflash.  It takes an adult to raise a real man.  You’re not a real man.  You’re not a man at all.  You’re a boy – a sniveling, selfish, egotistical, tantrum throwing little boy who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants no matter who gets hurt along the way.  You wouldn’t now the first thing about raising a man.  You are no adult.  Adults are responsible.  They get educated, they work and they support their family.  They are honest, loving and caring.  They don’t force their daughters or other little girls to participate in sexual acts for their own sexual desires.  You don’t know how to be a real man.  You don’t know right from wrong.  You don’t care about anyone but yourself.  If you think for one minute that I would ever consider placing my child in your home so you can destroy his entire life and destroy him, you are sadly mistaken.  That will never happen.  Not even over my dead body.  You tell me to grow up?  Let me know when you have grown up and become a responsible and productive member of society and then you might be able to suggest I need to grow up.  Until then, stop preaching shit you know nothing about and couldn’t practice to save your own skin.

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During one of your temper tantrums earlier this year, you cried about how it’s not fair that I didn’t treat my first ex the way I was treating you.  You are correct.  I love him.  He loved me.  He was real.  He was a real man who got educated despite the unfortunate circumstances of his childhood.  He found work.  He worked hard and he supported his family.  He took care of us.  He is a grown-up.  Although he isn’t where he once was, he is still that man at the core of his being and he is still real. He is still honest.  He never once laid a hand on his children nor has he ever lied to me or anyone else.  He is better than you.  You are beneath everyone.

Adios.

Mel.

Mirroring is at the heart of how sociopaths hook us and why others think we were just like the sociopath while inside the toxic relationship.

The First Secrets

The First Secrets
August 16, 2014
WARNING:  TRIGGER WARNING:  This post contains some details regarding an incident of sexual abuse that may be disturbing and a trigger for victims of such.

In late 2005, I got lucky.  I got a job that paid well and allowed me to fix my hours so I could get home when the children got home from school.  It was a Monday through Friday office job and 7 to 3 were great hours.  I had to leave at 6:30 but HE was there to get the kids up and out the door.  HE didn’t work.  I’d get home about 3:30, as well as the children.  It was pretty nice to have so much time in the afternoon and evening with them.  Summer came and I was still working and HE was still not working (No, he never did get a job.) so he stayed with the children.  It was 2006.  Sometimes a few of the children would go to work with me.  C was getting ready for summer camp.  It appeared to be a perfect arrangement for the family.

via The First Secrets | No More Silence.

Click the link above to read the rest of the story.