"Side Effects"
There are many things that happened as a result of the abuse. Below are listed a few of them.
1) Asking for things (of any kind): I was raised to not ask for things, even if I really needed them. I have so many childhood memories of asking for something (a favour, something at the store, etc.) and my dad hitting me or punishing me and saying, “Don’t ask for stuff.”
After we (my mom and I) left and then met and moved in with Wayne, that mind set stayed with me. Even though he (Wayne, my stepfather) never told me “Don’t ask for stuff”, he did say things like, “Don’t ask for things you don’t need or can’t afford", which is actually good advice.
That, mixed with what my dad “taught” me, led to me literally afraid to ask for stuff. It really annoys my friends and other people. My biggest problem with that is food and money. I will go several days without food (in my apartment) and be too afraid to ask anyone if they either have anything they don’t want/need, or if they could give me a lift to Wal-Mart or Save.A.Lot so I can go shopping.
In December 2009, one of my friends proved her awesomeness yet again when she found out I had been three days without food. She picked me up and we went to Save.A.Lot and spent $150 on food. Her mom is also awesome (which is where my friend gets it) and told me that if I ever go without food again without telling them, that she will hunt me down and beat me up (lol I love her).
Long story short, I am now hiding from her mom. . .
Yeah, once that supply ran out, I was too afraid to tell her that I was out of food. Not because of the threat (she was kidding anyway), but because of what my dad “taught” me.
Several months ago, I walked several miles from my house to the local Hastings to apply for a job. At the time, I didn’t have any food, so I made the walk there on an empty stomach and no water in me (that I did have, but was too lazy to drink before leaving). Hastings only applies online, so I started walking back. I was halfway back when I got really dehydrated and had to stop at United (grocery store). I skipped past the fear and called around for a ride. The only person who could come was the preacher’s wife. When she got there, she asked me what food I had at home (she knew I usually don’t have much). I lied and said I had “enough”. She didn’t fall for it and wanted to know exactly what I had. So I told her. “Mustard, ketchup, salt, pepper, soy sauce, coffee, and sugar”. She slammed on the breaks and I hit my head on the dashboard, just as my then-girlfriend's grandma was calling my phone. I don’t remember why she called me, but she knew as soon as I said, “Hello?” in a more groggy voice than usual that something wasn’t right. Evelyn took the phone from my hand and told her what had happened. I could hear her grandma yelling through the phone, asking why I never told them I had no food. They stayed on the phone for half an hour (SO glad I have unlimited talk!) and both decided to gather some food up for me.
As I write this, I am running short of food, and I don’t know what I’m going to do!
Someone said I don’t ask for things because I am too “proud” to do so. What exactly do I have to be “proud” of, anyway? I am totally not prideful!
[I didn’t think this side effect was important enough to mention here. Then (about a week or so ago, I read one of Mandee’s Entries titled “Asking for Help / Thought for Today”. After reading that, I realized that it was (in fact) a side effect just as much as the other things I am about to discuss. There was a line in that Entry that I took literal. “Try asking for a garbage bag from a neighbour even if you have a ton under your sink.” I didn’t have a ton of bags (in fact, I was out), but I remembered this line and the fact that my upstairs neighbours have the exact same trash can as I do and asked for a bag. Mandee was right when she said, “Asking for help is not always easy but you deserve it and will see that when you ask.”; Instead of giving me one bag, my neighbour gave me three bags, which will last a couple of weeks instead of the few days that just one will. Thanks Mandee!]
2) “Am I allowed...?” state of mind: Something that really made up a lot of the abuse was the phrase, “You’re not allowed...”. Like, I wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things. Like one time my dad was watching tv and Tales Spin came on. I could tell from the opening notes, because it was one of my favourite shows. When I heard it, I ran into the livingroom, and my dad told me I wasn't allowed to watch it and sent me to my room, and he turned up the tv so I could hear it but not see it and he watched the episode. I REALLY wasn’t allowed to do anything. Couldn’t go to friend’s houses, couldn’t go places, couldn’t watch tv, couldn’t...
Anyway, after I graduated and got out on my own and yada, yada, yada, I was still under that impression. It really hurt my relationship with my friends at church in 2008 and 2009, because they’d want me to go somewhere with them, and I would say I “couldn’t”. They interpreted that as I had something to do. I know this sounds dumb, but I felt that I “wasn’t allowed”. Even now, there are times I want to go somewhere or do something, but I don’t because I’m not sure if I “can”. I know that no one is going to...”punish?” me (I couldn’t think of what to put there, so that’s why I put the “quotes” and “?”), but I still feel that I “can’t”. I think this is the weirdest and lamest side effect so far. I have a feeling that I’m going to be made fun of for this one in particular.
I think this side effect ties in with the other one. I’m not sure because I’ve never directly thought of that until now, but what if I’m afraid to ask for things because I’m afraid I’m “not allowed” to ask for things? Now that doesn’t make much sense, because my friend's mom TOLD me to tell her when I am out of food, so I am definitely “allowed”.
I’ve never liked that word, that’s why I am putting quotes around it. To “allow” someone to do something is to assume that you have control over them, and as I don’t believe in anyone having control over another human being, I do not like the idea of someone “allowing” you do to something.
When my ex-girlfriend and I were still together, someone asked me if I was going to “allow” her to have her own computer. What the heck?! If she wants to get a computer, she can very well get a computer! She doesn’t need “permission” from me or whomever! (And that goes for all other aspects, not just computers and relationships).
3) Fear of getting wet: When I was little, my dad and his friends would take me to the deepest part of the lake and play “human volleyball” with me. I was only four and/or five (not sure how many times this happened, but I know it was much more than once). Being as I couldn’t swim, if one of my dad’s friends missed me I went straight to the bottom and they would have to dive down and find me. Lake Fort Phantom is famous for it’s crystal clear waters. . . NOT! The waters are incredibly muddy and impossible to see through. Goggles are pointless because you can’t even see your hand in from of your face. So it would take my dad’s friends a bit to find me. They normally didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath before they started tossing me around again.
Things like that have led me to have a fear of getting wet.
When I tell friends that, they say, “Then how do you take a shower?”
Soap powders...
lol Just kidding. There are exceptions like that.
My fear has grown over time. Like, back in 2006 we got a massive swimming pool. I used to swim in that. In fact, I used to hold myself underwater just because I like the view there.
Now, you can’t even get me to stick my hand in a pool.
Many years ago, my family and I were at Lake Sweetwater. They were all in the lake, swimming and everything. I was on the...beach...?...shore...area and Wayne was trying to talk me into the lake, but I wouldn’t do it. I would start to, but then the water touched my foot and I had flashbacks to Lake Fort Phantom and start crying and screaming. I’m pretty sure that Wayne did not know about what happened when I was little, because he eventually got mad because I wouldn’t get in the lake (not out of control mad, but “Fine!” mad).
More recently (three days ago, in fact. . .), I had an incident that I’m embarrassed about, but I’m almost certain that it’s safe to post on here...
We have been getting a lot of rain lately (I hate it!!!!). With great rains come great puddles (I ALMOST said “Great responsibility...I don’t know, habit?). I was walking home from my aunt’s house late that night and had on a rain coat she let me borrow. My MP3 Player was in my coat and out of the way when this happened (THANK GOD!) I was walking around this large group of puddles (and it also has been a bit icy), and slipped and landed hard in a rather large and deep puddle. Water splashed up all around me, and a bunch fell right back on top of me.
My mind was full of flashbacks and I think I may have screamed. All I know is that the next thing I know, I’m laying in this puddle of water (it was so deep that it almost covered me), and that it was near freezing that night, and also I was crying. Not silent tears. I was bawling, like a little kid. It’s like it never occurred to me in all of my fright to get out of the puddle. I layed there for maybe thirty minutes (maybe an hour, maybe 15 seconds. . .), then slowly got up and stumbled home, weeping the whole way and changed into warm clothes and crying myself to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I was sick and could hardly move and was that way most of the day.
When I was finally able to get up, I had a total OCD moment and scrubbed my tub (which was nearly black) for two hours (until it was white again), and I was sore for the next two days.
1) Asking for things (of any kind): I was raised to not ask for things, even if I really needed them. I have so many childhood memories of asking for something (a favour, something at the store, etc.) and my dad hitting me or punishing me and saying, “Don’t ask for stuff.”
After we (my mom and I) left and then met and moved in with Wayne, that mind set stayed with me. Even though he (Wayne, my stepfather) never told me “Don’t ask for stuff”, he did say things like, “Don’t ask for things you don’t need or can’t afford", which is actually good advice.
That, mixed with what my dad “taught” me, led to me literally afraid to ask for stuff. It really annoys my friends and other people. My biggest problem with that is food and money. I will go several days without food (in my apartment) and be too afraid to ask anyone if they either have anything they don’t want/need, or if they could give me a lift to Wal-Mart or Save.A.Lot so I can go shopping.
In December 2009, one of my friends proved her awesomeness yet again when she found out I had been three days without food. She picked me up and we went to Save.A.Lot and spent $150 on food. Her mom is also awesome (which is where my friend gets it) and told me that if I ever go without food again without telling them, that she will hunt me down and beat me up (lol I love her).
Long story short, I am now hiding from her mom. . .
Yeah, once that supply ran out, I was too afraid to tell her that I was out of food. Not because of the threat (she was kidding anyway), but because of what my dad “taught” me.
Several months ago, I walked several miles from my house to the local Hastings to apply for a job. At the time, I didn’t have any food, so I made the walk there on an empty stomach and no water in me (that I did have, but was too lazy to drink before leaving). Hastings only applies online, so I started walking back. I was halfway back when I got really dehydrated and had to stop at United (grocery store). I skipped past the fear and called around for a ride. The only person who could come was the preacher’s wife. When she got there, she asked me what food I had at home (she knew I usually don’t have much). I lied and said I had “enough”. She didn’t fall for it and wanted to know exactly what I had. So I told her. “Mustard, ketchup, salt, pepper, soy sauce, coffee, and sugar”. She slammed on the breaks and I hit my head on the dashboard, just as my then-girlfriend's grandma was calling my phone. I don’t remember why she called me, but she knew as soon as I said, “Hello?” in a more groggy voice than usual that something wasn’t right. Evelyn took the phone from my hand and told her what had happened. I could hear her grandma yelling through the phone, asking why I never told them I had no food. They stayed on the phone for half an hour (SO glad I have unlimited talk!) and both decided to gather some food up for me.
As I write this, I am running short of food, and I don’t know what I’m going to do!
Someone said I don’t ask for things because I am too “proud” to do so. What exactly do I have to be “proud” of, anyway? I am totally not prideful!
[I didn’t think this side effect was important enough to mention here. Then (about a week or so ago, I read one of Mandee’s Entries titled “Asking for Help / Thought for Today”. After reading that, I realized that it was (in fact) a side effect just as much as the other things I am about to discuss. There was a line in that Entry that I took literal. “Try asking for a garbage bag from a neighbour even if you have a ton under your sink.” I didn’t have a ton of bags (in fact, I was out), but I remembered this line and the fact that my upstairs neighbours have the exact same trash can as I do and asked for a bag. Mandee was right when she said, “Asking for help is not always easy but you deserve it and will see that when you ask.”; Instead of giving me one bag, my neighbour gave me three bags, which will last a couple of weeks instead of the few days that just one will. Thanks Mandee!]
2) “Am I allowed...?” state of mind: Something that really made up a lot of the abuse was the phrase, “You’re not allowed...”. Like, I wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things. Like one time my dad was watching tv and Tales Spin came on. I could tell from the opening notes, because it was one of my favourite shows. When I heard it, I ran into the livingroom, and my dad told me I wasn't allowed to watch it and sent me to my room, and he turned up the tv so I could hear it but not see it and he watched the episode. I REALLY wasn’t allowed to do anything. Couldn’t go to friend’s houses, couldn’t go places, couldn’t watch tv, couldn’t...
Anyway, after I graduated and got out on my own and yada, yada, yada, I was still under that impression. It really hurt my relationship with my friends at church in 2008 and 2009, because they’d want me to go somewhere with them, and I would say I “couldn’t”. They interpreted that as I had something to do. I know this sounds dumb, but I felt that I “wasn’t allowed”. Even now, there are times I want to go somewhere or do something, but I don’t because I’m not sure if I “can”. I know that no one is going to...”punish?” me (I couldn’t think of what to put there, so that’s why I put the “quotes” and “?”), but I still feel that I “can’t”. I think this is the weirdest and lamest side effect so far. I have a feeling that I’m going to be made fun of for this one in particular.
I think this side effect ties in with the other one. I’m not sure because I’ve never directly thought of that until now, but what if I’m afraid to ask for things because I’m afraid I’m “not allowed” to ask for things? Now that doesn’t make much sense, because my friend's mom TOLD me to tell her when I am out of food, so I am definitely “allowed”.
I’ve never liked that word, that’s why I am putting quotes around it. To “allow” someone to do something is to assume that you have control over them, and as I don’t believe in anyone having control over another human being, I do not like the idea of someone “allowing” you do to something.
When my ex-girlfriend and I were still together, someone asked me if I was going to “allow” her to have her own computer. What the heck?! If she wants to get a computer, she can very well get a computer! She doesn’t need “permission” from me or whomever! (And that goes for all other aspects, not just computers and relationships).
3) Fear of getting wet: When I was little, my dad and his friends would take me to the deepest part of the lake and play “human volleyball” with me. I was only four and/or five (not sure how many times this happened, but I know it was much more than once). Being as I couldn’t swim, if one of my dad’s friends missed me I went straight to the bottom and they would have to dive down and find me. Lake Fort Phantom is famous for it’s crystal clear waters. . . NOT! The waters are incredibly muddy and impossible to see through. Goggles are pointless because you can’t even see your hand in from of your face. So it would take my dad’s friends a bit to find me. They normally didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath before they started tossing me around again.
Things like that have led me to have a fear of getting wet.
When I tell friends that, they say, “Then how do you take a shower?”
Soap powders...
lol Just kidding. There are exceptions like that.
My fear has grown over time. Like, back in 2006 we got a massive swimming pool. I used to swim in that. In fact, I used to hold myself underwater just because I like the view there.
Now, you can’t even get me to stick my hand in a pool.
Many years ago, my family and I were at Lake Sweetwater. They were all in the lake, swimming and everything. I was on the...beach...?...shore...area and Wayne was trying to talk me into the lake, but I wouldn’t do it. I would start to, but then the water touched my foot and I had flashbacks to Lake Fort Phantom and start crying and screaming. I’m pretty sure that Wayne did not know about what happened when I was little, because he eventually got mad because I wouldn’t get in the lake (not out of control mad, but “Fine!” mad).
More recently (three days ago, in fact. . .), I had an incident that I’m embarrassed about, but I’m almost certain that it’s safe to post on here...
We have been getting a lot of rain lately (I hate it!!!!). With great rains come great puddles (I ALMOST said “Great responsibility...I don’t know, habit?). I was walking home from my aunt’s house late that night and had on a rain coat she let me borrow. My MP3 Player was in my coat and out of the way when this happened (THANK GOD!) I was walking around this large group of puddles (and it also has been a bit icy), and slipped and landed hard in a rather large and deep puddle. Water splashed up all around me, and a bunch fell right back on top of me.
My mind was full of flashbacks and I think I may have screamed. All I know is that the next thing I know, I’m laying in this puddle of water (it was so deep that it almost covered me), and that it was near freezing that night, and also I was crying. Not silent tears. I was bawling, like a little kid. It’s like it never occurred to me in all of my fright to get out of the puddle. I layed there for maybe thirty minutes (maybe an hour, maybe 15 seconds. . .), then slowly got up and stumbled home, weeping the whole way and changed into warm clothes and crying myself to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I was sick and could hardly move and was that way most of the day.
When I was finally able to get up, I had a total OCD moment and scrubbed my tub (which was nearly black) for two hours (until it was white again), and I was sore for the next two days.