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Getting Through : Dealing

Ranting

from leaver - Friday, August 13, 2004
accessed 2207 times

I have to rant – its something that has to be done.

My Mom and Dad are semi-in, semi-out of “The Family”. I spent many years not talking to them as when I made the decision at 16 not to be in the Family, I felt like I had disappointed my Mom and Dad so much that I couldn’t face talking to them. I couldn’t stay in a place where child abusers and brain washing freaks were the ones calling all the shots.

The scars that remain are mostly through the victor program and all the “sharing” that went on.

I was in the victor program, getting in trouble for every little thing, never missing a beating at the end of the week through the “5 demerit rule” system, BTW, my biggest problem apparently was that I pulled faces (well I wasn’t allowed to talk due to silence restriction), I used to get at least three demerits a day for this terrible crime, so usually by day two, I knew I was up for the paddling.

When I was there, I was so scared of Jesus, God etc that I would follow all the rules and felt like I was definitely going to hell if I did anything out of line. I remember one day in particular when I was 11, me and a friend were in the front garden using a wire brush to scrape moss off the wall, (what a pointless exercise) and she grazed her hand off the wall quite badly. At first I just looked at her dumb struck as I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk to her but ended up (being in my weird sense of mind) praying for her hand to heal quickly. I didn’t realise at the time but a “shepherd” was watching from the window and thought that I was talking to her.

When our chores were finished we were separated and quizzed about what was said in the garden. We both stuck to the truth that I had just prayed for her and no talking went on but, they didn’t believe us, and it ended up with us both getting a beating on top of the other beating that we were already going to get. I think this was the pivotal moment when I realised that all the adults in the house, including my Mom and Dad, were totally crazy.

I remember after one of these beatings which had gone quite badly as the “auntie” who did it was a sadist and liked hurting people, I had big red welts on my ass and went to my Mom asking for cream for them and she said “you shouldn’t be talking to me, your on silence restriction”.

I remember being forced to write open heart reports and having to rack my brain to write something that would seem like I was confessing but be not too extreme that I would have to get in trouble for – I got this wrong quite a lot. I remember seeing my brothers being thrown around the room by different “aunties” and “uncles” and feeling the anger and frustration in the knowledge that we couldn’t do anything to stop it.

I remember walking in on both my Mom and Dad having sex with different people in the home. These images still pop up now again when I least expect it and make my stomach churn. I remember the sleepover nights that the teens had and how, because I was the only girl in the home at one point, I was passed around from pillar to post with different boys. I remember thinking I must be really special to get all this attention. I was nine years old. How the fuck did my parents allow that to happen.

I remember we weren’t allowed to wear panties in bed and how an uncle used to come and lift the covers to make sure we weren’t wearing them and how degrading it felt.

I decided about a year ago that no matter what my Mom and Dad were into I needed to keep on good terms with them due to my siblings that they still have control over. I know deep down that my siblings are not going to stay and good communication will mean they will have someone to turn to when they leave as I know how hard it was for me to integrate into the “system” world. What makes me sad is that I also love my Mom and Dad and can’t get my head around how much they are so indoctrinated with all this bullshit that’s coming out nowadays, i.e. the loving Jesus Revolution, Vandari, claiming the power of the Keys etc.

What scares me most is that now I’m out, working hard after a terrifying ordeal at college where I was treated like a total freak because I didn’t know how to blend in, trying to earn money to make a life for myself, some of my siblings are still visiting homes and staying with these freaks. They say the Family has changed and nothing like what I went through goes on and I usually hold my tongue and say everyone’s got a right to choose how they want to live their life but deep down I can’t stand how things are.

I have been thinking recently of what’s going to happen once my Mom and Dad become too old to take care of themselves. Do you really believe the great and powerful “Family” are going to take care of them when they can’t go out and earn money, are they fuck. My parents have been in the family for over 30 years and have tithed faithfully. Can you imagine how much money they would have had if they had been putting their “tithe” into a bank account. They have no pension, no savings and are still living from hand to mouth. I just hope when they finally wake up and smell the roses that they won’t be too mentally damaged in the knowledge that all they have believed in for the last 30 plus years is total bullshit.

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from Zed
Tuesday, August 17, 2004 - 04:42

Average visitor agreement is 5 out of 5Average visitor agreement is 5 out of 5Average visitor agreement is 5 out of 5Average visitor agreement is 5 out of 5Average visitor agreement is 5 out of 5(Agree/Disagree?)

I understand your frustration. Growing up in tf I went through a lot of similar experiences, and was on silence restriction quite often in my early teen years. My parents, both in thier fifties, are also in a semi-in/out status and are still tithing to an organization that won't do a damn thing to help them when they can no longer support themselves. I don't keep in touch with them often but I still feel an obligation to help them financially whenever they're in a bind because I have five siblings still living with them who don't deserve the extreme poverty I was forced to grow up in.

We who have left the group are now footing the bill of those who raised us.
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