Mar 23, 2024
“We’ve tried everything “ 🤥
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“We’ve tried everything “ 🤥
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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my mom, forces me to go to the emergency room because incredibly fast heart rate, barely able to catch my breath after even just getting up from a chair, just lots of overall not great symptoms:
also my mom: you didn’t wash your dishes before you left !! 😡 you always treat me like a maid and it’s like you want me to die !!
Gotta love good old mom putting pride and ego above her actual child. She's probably embarrassed that I'm so destitute I've resorted to fundraising during my medical treatments and she can't afford to help me, but portrays an upper-middle class mask to all her stupid friends that cannot be tarnished by the "problem child." I'm really irritated about this. And sad.
She goes on to say how she can't believe I wouldn't stop singing "Jingle Bells" at the top of my lungs when the mood was clearly so sad. She can't believe how I didn't get that. How could I possibly be so upbeat when my surroundings were so obviously heavy? I was two. Age is no excuse. I feel tremendous guilt every time we rewatch the home video. How could I have not known better? What a stupid idiot. How could I have not sensed what Mom needed? That she needed all of us to be serious, to be taking the situation as hard as we possibly could, to be devastated. She needed us to be nothing without her.
Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died (Chapter 1)
your blog is really ableist to people with NPD, which is often caused by trauma and abuse
Your Trauma Isn't Some Else's Problem
I literally do not give a single, solitary fuck about how random Tumblr people with NPD feel. This isn't about them,but of course they can't possibly grasp that simple concept.
Your trauma and your disorders are yours to deal with. My blog is about what happens when people (mostly women) inflict their untreated disorder on helpless children. It's not abelist to call out abuse and abusers.
So take you wasted energy and go work on getting folks with NPD to either go to fucking therapy or leave the rest of us alone. Fuck all the fucking way the fuck off.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
During counseling yesterday I was completely checked out. I woke up that morning with the single word in my brain: Parents. That's all, nothing attached, just PARENTS. I was raised as the invisible child, something that I've also recently come to terms with.
Whenever I say that I was abused I always said, "I was abused emotionally, not physically". Almost like I was covering for them. Here is what my therapist said to me after I said that: "______, you've still been abused though, you were left on your own to defend yourself while growing up. You're parents didn't nurture you, they used the cry it out method and still do to this day. Hell, they made fun of you when you'd cry so much you'd throw up. Even though they didn't leave any marks on you, it doesn't mean you weren't abused. Every time you've let them back into your life, you've gone back to therapy because something traumatic happens. They never go to therapy, but you do and they learn nothing. They've been pinning their problems on you before you were born, like calling you an accident and an "oops baby" your entire life. I'm telling you, there are people that should just not be parents and yours were not emotionally equipped or available."
It was like a train hit me. I started to cry, ugly cry. I was so sad and mad (smad) that I was learning more reasons as to why I'm fucked up. I'm 31 and I've been protecting them for so fucking long. I never realized I was going back to therapy whenever they did something. I have been in therapy, since I was 15 (for an eating disorder mainly), it feels very normal for me to be in it. But I never realized that 90% of the reason I'm still in there is because of them. Because they'll never get help. So I pass it down in hopes that something will stick and it never does. My mom has said, "You can go to therapy for me and let me know what I need to do" the last time she left her second session because she thought the therapist was "too young".
I feel like I've finally had a real breakthrough.
and a big fuck you to my previous therapist who told me to just "love them anyways".
i want to beat her until there’s nothing left other than a bloody pulp, i’m constantly surprised at the new lengths i’m able to hate somebody. i hate her to my very core. i want her to die a slow painful death. she doesn’t deserve to live. i want her to suffer so bad. i want to see her bleed out.