Category Archives: #domestic violence

Good Bye Unhealthy Relationships

Every day, I pray for the end of addiction and the cycle of abuse. They broke my all feelings of safety. They took my word boundaries and shattered it on the floor! They are never coming back. Ever! The separation is for life. I am going My family and I deserve healthy relationships. I am the adult. I am responsible for the memory of my kids who never came home because they died. I am responsible for the safety/mental health of both kids in my house. I will not have hostile email, phone messages or social media towards any of my kids here or in heaven. I don’t do as I told blindly. I went to Ala Anon for years. I am a member of Co-Dependents Anonymous. I am my own person. I can not have people speaking ill of those who died. They have no voice. I refuse to white wash all my babies ever happened. It is documented woman carry the cells of her children in her body. You count my C- section scars. There are more than the number of kids that I have. I am a power house in the name of all my children! I hope there comes a day that you see what your addiction did. This time you went beyond over the line and destroyed the pen drawing the line too!

Good Bye To The City Of Presidents

My daughter Hope had tears in her eyes. “Mom, your family scares me. I am so overwhelmed.” 

I have been trying since my mom died to give these two girls a big loving family. I grew up there a few blocks away from the shores. I grew up in domestic violence. My mother was beat in my name. If Mary Ellen needed a doctor… If Mary Ellen needed anything… He would beat her in my name. It was 40 years ago… I was scared that the state would take me away from the one woman who loved me, my mom.

My daughter is 17. I was 18. I busted in tears during a bad break up. My friends took me to Alateen. That man wasn’t very family oriented. He thought my turning 18 was meant his job done. My mom decided to not kick me to the city streets. I had the lowest grades in highschool. I made a decision to be someone someday. He left! Hallelujah! I got a second chance at doing well at school. I couldn’t do well at high school. I went to school fearing for my mother’s physical health or I was always day dreaming of being somewhere else. I am 48 and ashamed of my high school report card. I know I could have done more. I got that one chance and I took it. I was accepted to grad school. My mom and my Aunts were always proud. My grandparents loved me to no end. I don’t want this to be a laundry list of what wrong done. 

Life didn’t happen the way that I planned. I suppose to get married and a fairy was suppose to come to give me children. I moved away from them. I tried to care for my mom. The first baby died a day after birth. My smart siblings said you stop that crying because you knew this was going to happen! You have nothing to cry about. Compassion was emotion that they could only feel for themselves. Through prayers and a lot of crying, I gave birth to Hope. They knew better. That old struggle for power and control. I was told how to raise her. I had escaped many years out. Both learned to threaten me with the love of my nieces and nephew. Narcissism wasn’t a popular theory yet. I look down at the baby. They turned her first birthday party upside down. Her heart was pure and I was her mom. I SAID NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU WILL NOT HURT THIS CHILD! I never called my brother or sister again. I kept the same number for years. It was a horrible decision to have to make. I love my nieces and nephew so much. I prayed for them daily and kept the same number because maybe they would grow up and I would tell them how much I loved them. Right before COVID, we got rid of the number.

Five years later, I had the unthinkable happen yet again. Another baby died upon birth. The stock market had crushed many years ago. I held on to my Hope for dear life. In May of that year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My siblings said, “WHATEVER!” My mother died in between chemo appointments. She refused the help that she needed. I tried to talk to her. I was there almost every week. We lost my mom to dementia.

On the 5th year after breast cancer, I got pregnant again. I cried and prayed and I made it through the 9 months. This baby was like Hope. SHE’S COMING HOME! Hope cried, “I am not the only one!”

I kept holding on for a big loving family. Conflict do happen. They continued to threaten people if they don’t do it their way. They bring new meaning to the all or nothing thinking. I finally stopped going my one remaining aunt. I sent a card or called to her know she was loved.

Not that all my decisions were the greatest choices. I live with those choices. Being ignored is a form of abuse. My mom taught me to be strong. We don’t always get a long at home. We worked it out. Maybe my girls didn’t grow up in the perfect 80’s or 70’s family show. We prioritize them as their parents. 

My cousins died. They didn’t call me. I didn’t get a chance to say good bye. Months later, I am getting told that they died. I couldn’t go to their wake or funeral to say good bye if I don’t know. My Hope struggles with dizzy spells, nausea every day and extreme physical fatigue. I had to find a career where I was home and flexible around her schedule. I came home to work in 2019. It ends up it was a brilliant career move. Lock down happened within 6 months, I already knew how to work from home. The threats and allegations didn’t stop. You’re not working at all! Your lying! With the one left, I can’t tell is this life long narcissism or dementia. I kept cutting people off. When my daughters ask where is your family? I would tell them about my mom, aunts and my grandparents. They died too young. 

Hope with all those dizzy spells, nausea and extreme physical fatigue, she fought. We kept going to the doctor’s. We kept hoping for answers. The doctors finally diagnosed her with chronic fatigue. I sent a birthday card. Every March, I was forgotten. Every July mailed a birthday card. Every August, my girls were forgotten. I promised to be the mother my mother was. We stopped with the birthday parties. I found ways to celebrate them and their lives. All the survivors in the City of Presidents wouldn’t know them. We decided our girls shouldn’t go to a place where the police may need to be called for another drunken rage episode from the cousins downstairs. I kept them away. I occasionally called or sent a card to my aunt. I wanted her to know we loved her.

One week in December, it was Hope’s week to shine. She finally got her driver’s license after many medical appointments! She had gotten a scholarship. I was thinking of calling for weeks. In my gut, I was scared. If that isn’t a major sign to not be in a relationship with someone. We knew since Thanksgiving. I was anxious at how they react. I finally got the courage. Immediately cut off that what they did. I called them back and I told them how angry I was. No calls for my either of my cousin’s death and cut off telling Hope’s accomplishments. I asked them to never call back. I am not that frightened little girl. My girls come from a long line of strong women! She calls me back twice screaming at me. I was in two work meetings. My schedule is extremely tight.

What does Mrs. Primitive do? She hands the phone to her daughter. I have my number blocked for unknown numbers for good reason just look at my history! On the speakers of my dash board, her daughter calls on her number. She calls me a C and threatens me. I was so embarrassed in the middle of parent pick up for my youngest daughter. When I picked up the phone, I told the person that I was at the SCHOOL.

I called the police and let them know. They didn’t stop there. They sent me threats via text. I see my daughter Hope crying. I am scared of your family. Did you know Hope got accepted to another school with a bigger scholarship during this afternoon of threats? I promised them! I promised them! I promised them! The universe entrusts me with their care! Here is two hours before the Christmas show. My daughter is in tears. I hugged her tightly. We are never going back. I tell her. I will see them in court if I need too! My girls deserve better! The City of Champions cut the cord with The City Of Presidents. Hope and Joy deserve to FREE! Live without fear! Be your self! Know that you are loved! It’s just going to be the four of us watching her walk across the stage. I HAVE FREED THEM FROM THE CYCLE OF ABUSE! 

HEAR THE NEWS! IT’S FLOATING AROUND THE WORLD! MY MOTHER’S NAME WAS MARY! MY REAL NAME IS MARYELLEN! WE ARE FINALLY FREE! NOT ANOTHER GENERATION! WE ARE FREE! WITH THE STRENGTH OF ALL THE STRONG WOMEN IN MY FAMILY, WE ARE LEAVING! THIS IS THE MEANING OF RADICAL ACCEPTANCE! GOOD BYE TO THE CITY OF PRESIDENTS! 

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#CYCLEOFABUSE#DOMESTICVIOLENCE

I have two daughters. It took 11 years of struggling with secondary infertility and recurrent pregnancy to have the family we wanted. Our first daughter died a day after birth due to a rare disease in 2004. Another daughter died due to the same rare disease week before Thanksgiving in 2009. In May of 2010, I noticed breast changes because we were actively trying to get pregnant again. I was diagnosis with breast cancer at age 36 years old. I went on to loose my mother in the same year. Almost five years later after the cancer diagnosis, I was able to get pregnant out of state due to embryo donation. In many ways, I am still in the process of rebuilding my life. Many topics are discussed such as co-dependency, motherhood, being a working parent, secondary infertility, breast cancer, rare disease, meditation, child loss, pregnancy loss, dealing with family and a career.View all posts by EllinHope4Joy

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Freedom Escaping The Cycle Of Verbal Abuse: Happy Birthday To My Oldest

My head is caught in two places today.  I grew up in a domestic violent home that the courts had to get involved with when I was 17 years old.  I had the best mom.  As my teen daughter grows older, I start remembering the court proceeding and the fear of being abused by my father.  My mom helped me to grow my inner resilient being.

Over the past few years, I have anxiety the entire month of March.  My father called me the case for legalizing abortion. My inner critic loves his voice.  Today is Hope’s birthday.  My husband’s  family remembered.  I checked my phone.  No messages!  My family had their birthdays in July and June.  Literally, my aunt says have a good summer.  Translation: I will call you on Labor Day.  I have spoken to them.  The response was, “you expect us to bend over backwards for you?” That message was uttered by several family members.

I had two children who died from rare diseases.  I choose to try.  Today is the day that I met the care team with agenda issues.  It’s been 15 years later.  I could have let it destroyed me.  Their issues were with my brother not me.  Back then, I never heard of gaslighting!  Did you?  I am slowly looking at my inner voice, my inner critic.  The one who whispers it’s March and you will be forgotten again.  I was the invisible escape goat!  I had language disabilities and written language disabilities.  My two daughters could never come home.  Both died from a rare disease.  I had kidney failure.  Their child came home.  I am working on re-parenting myself.  My mom inspired me to do everything with in her ability through the historical time frame of her life.    My brother and sister frequently told me to “shut up!” I am coming to terms that I was abused not only by my dad.  A child with language difficulties needs to be told, “keep talking.”

A group of friends took me to Alateen.  Granted neither of my parents were alcoholics.  I got introduced to the 12 steps.  I can’t thank them enough!  Thank you for rescuing me!

My grief has changed.  I am reading more.  I do not grieve them. I grieve the love of a brother and sister I did not have.  They never saw Joy.  When Hope  (my oldest rainbow, child after lost) was born the day stopped being about her.   Some of the doctors had a past with my brother.  They should have taken it up with him.  He never talked to us.  These people were verbally abusive towards me.   It became a platform about how I didn’t matter!  I need to learn more advocating for myself and my family.  I joined co-dependents anonymous.  I continued my 12 step journey.  Someday, I hope March becomes a happy time for me to look forward to my birthday.  Today if I am feeling I am being treated right.  I go to the person.  If that doesn’t happen, I bump it up.

Today is a celebration of Hope.  Let it not be anything else!  Today is about her!  Happy 15th birthday Hope!  I am keeping it short!  That is my a lot time!  Back to Hope!

The Silence Of A Sunday Morning: Scream Your Secrets!

I was a teenager, when a group of friends saved my life in multiple ways by bringing me to a twelve step program.  I grew up in a very domestic violent home.  When I was 25 years old, the courts decided to make our restraining order forever valid.   My mother was very broken by her own childhood.  She repeatedly told us to stay close to one another.  In her dementia, she told people that she didn’t want to cost anyone money when she died.  My brother called it her dying wishes.  I was the one to find her dead due to natural causes.   I was told not to invite anyone.  I didn’t understand why.  I worked full time and I was in a state of shock.   I was half way into my cancer treatment, when they had her cremated and had the ashes thrown around the family gravestone.  She deserved to burred like a Queen.

That being said, I have struggled to write this blog a billion times.  Sometimes, it was a book.  Sometimes it was short.  This is not the secret, I am releasing this morning.  Both my girls live a different life.  Both live middle class and stable lives.  It’s not the hush hush place I grew up in.

I am timing myself now.  I have a few minutes of Sunday morning silence. My last aunt needed heart surgery.  She reached out to me, after my mother died.  I decided not to entitle this one a letter to my nieces and nephew.  I love them, when they were born.  I spent every bit of extra money on them.

My sister got married after my brother had a son.  Her husband is a blog to describe him.  He was engaged to someone else, when my sister dated him.   Shortly after their marriage, my sister got pregnant.  I was in grad school at the time.  I needed to just earn money.  I left my high paying job to get my internship done.  I started to work at the same place as him.  We had a co-worker with a bladder condition.  He was the ring leader in harassment  that never should have happened.  She needed someone there to go to the bathroom.  He made toilet flushing noises over the radio and then he would show up like he never did anything.

I didn’t know what to do, I told him off myself.  My sister is pregnant and he says she can get a second job to support the family?  English major get a real job.

My cat almost died.  He found it funny.  He drew a sexualized picture of me with cat liter.  My supervisor at the time was laughing about it.  This time, I went my mother.  I was so hurt.  She called my brother and sister.

My sister, who I stood up for.  They came over the house.  I was given two options.  I could never see my nephew and nieces again if I persisted this happened.  I could confess to being mentally ill to my mother and told her I needed help.

The basis for this was I had depression after being diagnosis with thyroid cancer at age 19.  In two years, my father had plans to kill the family.  I graduated highschool and I went to college.  The thyroid cancer was found.  I went on anit-depressants for a while.  It allowed me to function in college.  I was terrified of losing contact with my nephew and niece.  I confessed to being mentally ill.

I have 10 minutes left.  This summer, I asked my sister to tell me about my Aunt’s condition.  She said she would.  Earlier in the year, I actually ended all social media contact with my cousins.  I have buried babies and any time I honor these angels they say I am looking for pity.  A lot of my 12 step friends are on my social media account.  My sister started taking pictures.  This is the reason this entry is timed.  My sister and brother have been very verbally abusive.  When my oldest was 6 months old, they continued to make statements about my oldest child having birth defects.

She decided to scene shot my social media account.  I had it with her.  For years, she went out of her way to verbal abuse me.  Since my brother-in-law drew such a sexualized picture of a cat, I screen shot all my cat photos posts and sent it to her.  I also told her my oldest aware of her verbal abuse.  I told her off.  Every birthday, I cry about these people.  She didn’t show up when I had breast cancer.  My youngest bares her name for someone else.

The next night, she decides to text my cell phone.  Again telling me that I am mentally ill.  Now she is saying I am on drugs.  I am not.  Abuser have ways of making their points truths if you allow it.  I wanted to say urine test me any day.  Dear sister can you say the same?

My cousin contacted me a week later to tell me she was transferred to a nursing home after being in the intensive care unit. I answer her calls.  I don’t think she is aware of what happened.  I couldn’t sleep due to them.  I think is best that I remain detached.

My sister called me asking them “to bend over backwards” who lives 20 minutes away from me when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Every birthday I cry.  This year, I am celebrating.  It was through my mother’s love and being involved in 12 step programs that I survived.

It’s been a long time of them harassing us.  Some of them looking at my husband’s resume on Linked-In.  They were logged in to make sure we knew.  If there is another event, I plan to go to the court house.  My oldest was so stressed for weeks.

The truth is I don’t deserve to hold this SECRET.  I deserve better.  I will talk about it some more in other posts.  My heart gets sad because it is just the four of us for the holidays and birthdays.    I am not their victim.  They will not victimize my daughters.  My girls can’t even understand their world.  I had multiple anxiety attacks just dealing with her.    I am creating and finding the real me.  I don’t want to remember that home filled with domestic violence.  I am safe in one of the worst places to live in the state.  I love my Co-dependents Anonymous group.  This is about preventing what destroyed my family for generations.  I am looking at my girls.  We are getting some cute results!