My story
I grew up in conflicting paradigms. At first, life was atheist, my mother taught that women were powerful, yet she and my angry father spanked me into submission. After divorce and remarriage, my mother turned the tables. By age 9 feminism became a dirty word, discipline continued its violent direction — with new leadership (a narcissistic man, my new stepfather), and Christianity and judgment reigned supreme.
In our new paradigm we abstained from rock music, dances, alcohol, and sinful thoughts. Prayer and repentance, and Bible studies twice on Sundays became the new normal.
I grew up seeing the double lives of the church folk, my new church friends used sinful language and exposed their parents’ kinks underneath beds. I didn’t believe there were many Christians like Jesus wanted out there, my parents included.
Upon becoming a new parent, I followed my mother’s faith to appease her. Unexpectedly, her approval and acceptance was something I’d never felt before; I was immediately addicted, and I converted, determined to be more like Christ.
After 15 years of trying, and 8 children later, I couldn’t give to my ungrateful, abusive husband any more. By 2012 I asked for a divorce.
In 2014 I managed to get him to leave when I told him the truth; my PTSD wouldn’t heal in the warzone. My mother didn’t take kindly to that. I began grieving the relationship I wished I had with a loving mother; it was never going to be my truth.
After being shunned and disowned, I forged ahead. I’d lost “everything” –but I still had my kids, yet instead of giving them a good mother, I felt overwhelmed with unsatisfying employment that couldn’t pay the unpaid bills and mortgage. Plus, I was having panic attacks over the end times and hell, itself. Soon my paradigm shifted. I saw religion as oppression; religious trauma triggered me, constantly.
My divorce finalized in 2016 yet my mother’s denial continued, strong. I considered a protection order, she had gotten exhausting.
I tried a relationship with a narcissist and learned within 9 months why I didn’t need a man, especially one like that. I felt I had met with my mother and stepfather, rolled up into one, and I couldn’t continue the bullshit. I got the order for protection.
On requested afternoons off from my unfulfilling employment, I went to therapy, and I focused on self-love, mercy and forgiveness towards myself, instead of expecting it from an imaginary man in the sky.
I came to the realize that my mother would never be supporting my decision; she became my antagonist; she maligned me from my past Christian friends and spread vicious gossip to family. This forced me out of my comfort zone and I had to ask for support from strangers, and lean heavily on the government to raise my children.
Like during childhood, I realized my mother didn’t know how to meet my needs, only her own; she was toxic for my mental health, and I cut free from her abuse.
I was finished with tolerating. It was time to stop letting others control my life.
I thought I had run out of strength in 2018; I stepped into the halls of the psych ward and committed myself. This did not assist; on the contrary, I felt criminalized. In fact, it made me more certain how alone I was, indeed. I returned home the following day, convinced my future was in my hands.
I needed a savior to save me from my mind –yet my mind was the very thing that was going to save me –I just needed to feel safe so I could heal.
I saw that I was the way, the truth, and the light, and by going through anyone else, even Jesus, I had been avoiding what needed change within me.
In 2018 I began a new chapter of life, at age 46; it’s a story based on self-acceptance, self-love, self-care, and forgiveness and I’m role modeling it for my kids.
What can I do for you?
Happiness is something anyone can attain. Are you worth it? Yes, you most certainly are!!
I’m determined to expose childhood abuse and neglect as the cause of diseases, addictions, and mental illnesses. I want to help others see the light.
I’m not a scientist (yet) but my observations prove that the mental and physical illnesses I was plagued with were the symptoms from childhood abuse and neglect. My parents didn’t do this on purpose; they used the tools they were given, but they didn’t expand their parenting skills, either. Instead, they stagnated and became wise in their own estimations, assuming knowledge and righteousness, even when they could plainly see their violent and unpredictable discipline was not working. Christianity became a tool they grew adept at; manipulating with shame so as to cause obedience.
That’s not free will, and that’s not love.
Realizing you’ve come from a home that doesn’t understand how to love and care for its members is sobering. It explains why we do so many things…
If this was in the stone age, I’d have died of a broken leg with a family like mine.
I was raised a heathen until I reached 8 years of age. I suffered lower GI problems since I can recall, chewed my nails to the quick (still do) and sucked my thumb to comfort myself (these are coping skills created by a lack of needs being met). Before I turned 9, my mother became a born-again-Christian listening to a radio preacher, my step-father was more than willing to return to the church.
The church? Not so inviting…
Soon I was wearing “modest” clothes and feeling body shame for having a body that would [somehow] cause someone stumble [that’s so unfair!].
It became this child’s responsibility to protect grown-ups from lusting over her body.
Instead of being carefree as a child is meant to be, my mother aimed her lessons toward me;
shame was poured on my soul, I was unworthy, a wretch; worthy only of the fires of hell. Sin was my blood, my flesh was filth and like my filthy parents, I desperately needed cleaning.
In our family depression was seen as a disagreeable character flaw; instead of receiving understanding hugs I was insulted and accused of being a sullen brat, particularly when I showed other emotions besides happy. My nickname was “Huffy” in jest, which only caused ruminating and self-hatred.
I’ve overcome PTSD, IBS, Chronic Major Depression and Religious Trauma (raised in a cult) –I’ve got skills in my belt to share.
When I became like Jesus, my mother and stepfather loved me, but that was exhausting to keep up…
I continued to be punished with violence for failures, rather than shown valuable lessons, lovingly –but with God, there was always justification.
To achieve acceptance I allowed my parents to coerce me into letting them destroy my music (my ultimate coping skill) by fire.
I was told only Jesus could save me and my fiery fate. Fear forced me to believe. I was baptized at nearly 10 years old to save myself from my sins, but I kept getting punished for mine.
Abuse and neglect caused me to forget easily and have difficulty focusing. Obvious symptoms of female ADD surfaced but my mom spanked them out of me. Teachers often slapped the back side of my head when day-dreaming, “Where are you, Scarbrough?” I was often punished for not listening, verbally and physically –with no understanding why.
In my teens I recognized the farce religion was and chose to learn life by living it, but something happened when my first child appeared 9 months after my marriage.
Fear pulled me right back in to religion.
What if my child went to heaven and I went to hell? Religious Trauma had taken root.
When I was an adult I took my stand; in 2018, I was haunted day and night, fearing righteous vengeance from the Hebrew bible’s god. My programming was enveloped in looping fear and I was programmed to believe I had crucified Jesus again, with disbelief.
One day I remembered a verse, “Perfect love casts out all fear,” and I realized religion was based solely on fear! Obey or else!
Jealousy and rage as personality traits was part of the human condition… I questioned, what’s a god doing with human traits? Isn’t he/she above all that bulls@#t?
I learned that I didn’t have to believe what I’d been told. I found I had a choice in the matter, even. I was freed from the chains!
Since beginning my healing journey my GI issues have cleared up. I still have intrusive thoughts, but I watch them, like clouds, move on. No judgements, my thoughts don’t make me who I am.
Therapy has helped. I have an amazing partner on my journey, and she’s handed over literature, well thought out advice, and lots of listening, lavishly. Finding a good therapist has made all the difference. Don’t be shy to shop around –if you’re not compatible, why suffer.
I can help you recognize the trauma and neglect you suffered in childhood so you can heal, and in turn pass it down to your children and oh boy! Evolution!!!
Growing up in a toxic household and healing the trauma, plus having overcome my mental illnesses caused by it all, I can recognize problem behaviors and habits.
My children and I aren’t perfect, we’re working day and night to perfect our behaviors and adjust our habits to amplify unconditional love, and that’s to be expected. I’m a work in progress. I’m human. I’ve messed up, and I’ll probably have bumps and bruises in years to come. That’s not going to stop me from attaining a professional status as a healthy minded mother to my children.
My goals center around the light and love I can provide my family, and if I can share it with the outside world, I’m in!
I’m happy to share my outlook on parenting, religious oppression, cult-church families, shunning, excommunication, narcissistic abuse, neglect, generational trauma, and the list goes on.
