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Toxic relationship. Part 1
Life with my father.
Today the network has enough useful information about toxic relationships.
And, thank God, a lot of abuse stories are now published in the right perspective, thanks to which a conscious perception of these unhealthy relationships is formed in society.
More and more abuzz victims are aware of their position and start talking about it, asking for help, doing something, getting rid of feelings of guilt and shame.
More and more people realize that toxic relationships are not healthy and they should be stopped.
And what are the abyusers doing at that time?
Do they realize their roles as tyrants?
Here I want to share my experience: how I lived with my father-abuzer and how I myself became a tyrant, how I realized it and what I did.
I hope my story will help someone to understand something more about their relationship or their role in them.
I have no purpose to justify the abuser.
Responsibility for violence (whether psychological, physical, emotional, sexual) is always on who does this violence. Regardless of whether the culprit is aware of it or not.
Yes, there are always reasons - why a person became cruel, became a tyrant. And, as a rule, these reasons are external (upbringing, environment, traumatic experience ..). But a person is responsible for his actions, for the manifestation of cruelty.
I was born in a family of ordinary workers. My father, Alexander, is a builder.
He was born in a small town in the Irkutsk region. He was the second and youngest son.
His father drank and raised his hand to his wife. Then she with children and her mother fled to a village in the Krasnoyarsk Territory, to relatives. Father was very young. His mother worked all day to feed his family. And grandma sat with little Sasha.
Grandma survived a very difficult wartime, due to which her heart became stingy for love and tenderness, so necessary for a small child. Sasha asked, demanded attention and affection, but the grandmother was not able to show feelings and the boy constantly suffered from it.
From the age of five Shurik was accustomed to hard rural work and dedication. As a boy, he was already hired, and he gave the money to the family.
So he grew stale and growing, believing that life is only a continuous struggle and survival.
The boy could open a chicken with a knife, wondering what was inside him.And to hang a cat that does not catch mice or is already old is a common thing ...
In my youth, my parents met and immediately began to meet. They were friends for 4 years and relatives have insisted: you either marry or disperse.
We decided to play a wedding. Mom told me that her friends and acquaintances discouraged her: "Look for whom you are going to marry. You will suffer enough with him!"
But mom's love was blind. Alexander seemed to her a wonderful man.
For me personally, now, the question of love in a toxic relationship is very controversial. After all, this relationship between the tyrant and the victim can hardly be called love.
My mom kept telling me she loved my father. I just loved him for a very long time, not looking at all the difficulties and his behavior.
The same thing was repeated by my man, whom I had tyrannized for 10 years. When everything was already revealed and it was agreed 100 times, he nevertheless repeated: "I always loved and love you anyway, no matter what bitch you are." Here, in my opinion, “smacks” with complete dedication, sacrificing oneself for the sake of “love”, which is a healthy, self-sufficient feeling.
And the abuzer? Can he even love? It is clear that from his side there is no love. That is, he can speak and believe in what he loves.But this is absurd. How can love and intent to hurt, suppress, destroy a loved one?
This is a completely unhealthy love, unhealthy relationship. And, unfortunately, in our society this is the norm.
According to one statistician, 98% of the relationship is toxic. And this, quite likely, seems to be true, if one thoroughly understands that - what is this co - dependent relationship?
This is not necessarily just sexual or physical abuse.
Any relationship where a partner suppresses another (emotionally and psychologically including) violates personal boundaries, manipulates and it is considered normal - already toxic.
It is clear that in any relationship there will be conflicts. For example, the violation of personal boundaries. But. In a healthy relationship, partners will talk about it, solve a problem, look for a harmonious compromise .. so to say - work on relationships together, build them.
In a toxic relationship, this “norm” will be repeated. At what, partners can change the roles of "tyrant victim".
Go back to the story.
Almost all my childhood father drank. And it was ordinary for the environment in which I lived. "Yes, everyone has it. Someone, in general, no father."
I don’t remember the first scandal that happened before my eyes, probably because I was very little. And I remember the atmosphere of constant oppression in my father's presence from school. Previously, he sometimes played with me and that was enough for me to feel like a happy child and to definitely love my father.
Probably, the violence towards me (the youngest daughter) he began when he decided that it was time to teach and educate me.
I remember a case of how I played chess with my dad (maybe in the first grade or earlier). She loved to play chess and cards with him. We decided to play "Chapaeva", for money - 10 rubles. Dad played with his left hand (accuracy is important for victory) to facilitate my task. And I won. For me it was like getting the Nobel Prize - to defeat my father, because he is a master of the game. Perhaps this victory could be one of the best moments of my childhood. But after my request to give me my winnings, an angry “lecture” fell on me with raised tones and with a foul language, that you need to earn money with hard work, and I am just a lazy and a loafer and I play ...
Constant scandals and reproaches, aggression and discontent on the part of the father we listened to with the whole family - mother and we with the older sister.
Several times he raised his hand to his mother, including at our time.
My sister and I cried and screamed. The sister asked her father to stop, rushed at him, then got to her - he shoved her away, she happened to have legs so that she fell.
I don't remember my father hitting me at least once. And in recent years, I have found in my memory very hard memories that have been blocked for years. Therefore, I can not say that there was no physical violence in my direction.