Tag Archives: Asking for Help

Sometimes a person has to ask for help

Why Can’t We Just Lock Them Up?

domestic-violence-md-newI was asked the following question in a comment the other day.

“didn’t these people get placed in psych hospitals in the past, so they couldn’t do the damage in society? Now they wander free among us…devouring all that they can.”

I understand what you are saying, Why should they run around destroying people’s lives without any consequences for their actions and the victim is left trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. On top of trying to put their lives back together they also have to be strong enough to remain no contact because the narcissist doesn’t leave them alone. But it isn’t that easy.

They used to burn witches at the stake also and lock people in stockades in the centre of town or behead them. In many third world countries they still stone women for infidelity, or cut off a robber’s hand for stealing.

Unfortunately, the “civilized” world in it’s attempts to be fair and not punish an innocent person; has swung too far the other way in many cases and has made it easier for a narcissist to do what they do. Unfortunately, if we locked up narcissists for hurting people; we would have a lot of victim’s behind bars because the narcissist almost always accuses the victim of the exact crimes he/ she committed. Much of the damage they do is a case of “he said/she said”, and they are careful to cover their tracks because they have a criminal mind and know what they are going to do so plot it very well. The victim is unaware of what the narcissist is doing so does nothing to protect themselves, they are not collecting evidence to prove their innocence whereas the narcissist is building his case the minute he meets the victim.

If we are going to lock a person up because they act crazy, for sure it would be the victim that gets locked up because a narcissist can act the victim and appear sane better than the true victim.

Who would we assign the responsibility of discerning who is lying and who is the victim? While with James I often felt I was living in a courtroom and he was the lawyer defending himself and all he had to do was instill “reasonable doubt” in the jury to be proven innocent. I have often wondered how defense lawyers live with themselves when they know a person is guilty but they get them off on a technicality but I see why the laws have to be that way otherwise we would have to take someone’s word for the fact that the person did what they did with malice and intent to harm. And then one of the big traits of a narcissist is lack of remorse but they can put on an academy performance of being remorseful and guilt ridden.

They can be the epitome of calm and rational, the definition of sanity while the victim is emotional, irrational and appearing the definition of insane. Who do you think they are going to lock up? 

Yes I know we can do brain scans to determine if a person is a psychopath but do we make a law stating that all people must submit to a brain scan and if they have the brain abnormalities of a psychopath do we just lock them up, sterilize them so they can’t reproduce or leave them to rot on a deserted island or in prison? For one thing we don’t have enough prisons to house them all and where do we draw the line? Until there is a crime committed how can we lock people up? Then, if we start to lock up narcissists where does it end? It leaves it wide open for a Hitler type holocaust.

Sure I would love to see them all herded up and put on an island to kill each other off but it isn’t reasonable or civilized. Our prisons are already full of narcissists and it is a huge cost to society to keep them alive in prison but I certainly would not want the responsibility of decided who should live and who should die, Would we kill all narcissists, psychopaths and sociopaths? There are people out there who are admitted psychopaths, like Sam Vaknin and James Fallon; who are admitted psychopaths but doing a lot towards educating people about psychopaths. Not all psychopaths are murderers, yes they are born that way but their upbringing does play a major part in how they function in society as an adult.

It is too ambiguous, too atmospheric, too hard to prove. BUT I DO feel the laws need to change.

I feel that if the police are called out for domestic violence the police should be in control of laying the charges and the woman should have no right to drop the charges. Too often the abuser pressures the woman into dropping the charges, with promises that he will change or threats to her, the kids or her family. it is proven that women do not act in the best interest of the children or her well being, so it has to be taken out of her control. I think that the abuser must be sent for evaluation with an expert on psychopathy and a brain scan be done. For one thing if the abuser is a psychopath no amount of anger management is going to help and many normal therapy actually arms the psychopath with more ways to manipulate. The victim needs to receive immediate support from an expert on domestic abuse and psychopaths, if the abuser is determined to be a psychopath the victim needs to be educated that there is no cure. Right now the victim is handed a bunch of pamphlets and left to their own devices, the abuser is out in a few hours and not enough time goes by for the victim to see things clearly.

Not that I think it is the victim’s fault they were abused but I feel they should be required to attend some support group or counseling also and be taught about what they are dealing with. So far there is no forced education and I really don’t think the victim is in the mindset to make wise choices for herself and her children when she is in the midst of domestic abuse.

I think she needs a team of people who not only educate her on psychopaths but also the resources available to them, I think the government has to provide them with education in order to get better jobs, more money than basic welfare so they can provide for their children. They need life skills coaching, help with becoming independent and regaining their self esteem and also to deal with any issues from their past, abusive in their childhood etc.

I also think there should be an international registry for domestic abuser, not just the ones who have been charged but any complaints should be registered. Who can access it is a problem but I am sure some kind of regulations could be devised so it is not a breach of a person’s  right to privacy. A woman might make a false claim of abuse but if a guy has numerous complaints by different women it is pretty obvious he has issues. If when the police attend a call of domestic violence, they run the guy’s name and there is a history of abuse complaints I think they should inform the woman and how the whole situation is handled needs to be ramped up. 

Would it prevent women from phoning the police because she doesn’t want him to get in trouble? I don’t know, maybe.

How does everyone else feel? What solutions do you, as past victims of abuse; see to  the problem of domestic abuse? What would have helped you get out or not get invovled to begin with?

My Thanksgiving Wishes to You

For months now every time I hear this song I think of everyone here on the blog. In my imagination I see us all fist pumping the air and saying to the Narc,

“Its our time now
this is not a funeral this is a revolution, our tears have turned to rage
We are holding our heads high and we aren’t living on the bottom any more. together we can do this!!”

I love you guys, this Thanksgiving I am thankful for all the wonderful people I have met through here, I am more grateful than words can ever express for the encouragement, emotional and financial support. People say they don’t know what they would have done without this blog; I feel the same way. I may have started it, but it is much bigger than me; it’s the people who come here who make it what it is.

God bless you all

I want some fist pumping happening when you play the song and when you get down and want to make contact or think you can’t do it play this song and picture all of us behind you, or holding you up if that is what it takes.

“People Like Us”

We come into this world unknown
But know that we are not alone
They try and knock us down
But change is coming, it’s our time now

Hey… everybody loses it,
Everybody wants to throw it all away sometimes
And hey… yeah I know what you’re going through
Don’t let it get the best of you, you’ll make it out alive
Ohh

People like us we’ve gotta stick together
Keep your head up, nothing lasts forever
Here’s to the damned, to the lost and forgotten
It’s hard to get high when you’re living on the bottom

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
We are all misfits living in a world on fire
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

Hey, this is not a funeral
It’s a revolution, after all your tears have turned to rage
Just wait, everything will be okay
Even when you’re feeling like it’s going down in flames
Ohh

People like us we’ve gotta stick together
Keep your head up nothing lasts forever
Here’s to the damned, to the lost and forgotten
It’s hard to get high when you’re living on the bottom

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
We are all misfits living in a world on fire
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
You’ve just gotta turn it up loud when the flames get higher
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

They can’t do nothing to you, they can’t do nothing to me
This is the life that we choose, this is the life that we bleed
So throw your fists in the air, come out, come out if you dare
Tonight we’re gonna change forever

Everybody loses it, everybody wants to throw it all away sometimes
Ohh

People like us we’ve gotta stick together
Keep your head up nothing lasts forever
Here’s to the damned, to the lost and forgotten
It’s hard to get high when you’re living on the bottom

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
We are all misfits living in a world on fire
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
You’ve just got to turn it up loud when the flames get higher
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
We’re all misfits living in a world on fire
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

Oh woah oh oh woah oh
You’ve just got to turn it up loud when the flames get higher
Oh woah oh oh woah oh
Sing it for the people like us, the people like us

One Hundred Years of Domestic Abuse

My Grandma Mary died a couple of weeks ago at the age of 93. I have started numerous posts in an attempt to commemorate her near century on this earth but haven’t finished any of them.

She was a sweet woman, whose quiet demeanor belied her strength.

The things that stand out in my memory are silly little things like how she ironed everything, towels, sheets, t-shirts, everything!! How she would wash and wax the floor and then lay out  newspapers over the floor and my cousin and I running through the house, hitting that newspaper and landing on our asses, arms and legs flailing. The plastic was still on the furniture and lamps and scraps of carpet made a pathway throughout the house to protect the carpet. My cousin and I spent many hours in the forest around her house and without fail we were given the same warning, “Watch out for ticks” I still don’t know what a tick looks like but when I go in the forest I am on the lookout for one.

My mom and Grandma were very close, Grandma divorced her first husband and as it turned out; her and my mom married brothers and got pregnant 8 months apart so my cousin and I were very close and my mom and I spent a lot of time at my grandma’s. She would come over and help my mom clean house and starch the doilies with a sugary concoction. Grandma was happiest if she was cleaning. She never watched TV and no one was real sure if she knew how to read.

From what I gather she was quite the looker when she was younger and would go dancing with her sisters. My mom remembers watching her mom getting dressed to go dancing in pretty dresses, her tiny waist cinched in, gloves, and high heels.

While walking at Cultus Lake years ago we walked past the old Pavillion and she told me how she had danced there during Prohibition with the soldiers.

In recent years she was lost in dementia sliding farther and farther into her own world, it was horribly sad for my mom to go visit her; then one day the old age home had a band come in to play old dance tunes and my mom noticed grandma’s feet keeping time to the music. When they started to play a jive mom asked grandma if she wanted to dance and she said it was like she was with her mom 30 years earlier dancing in the kitchen. Grandma danced like a young woman and didn’t miss a beat. It was the last time there was any recognition there.

My grandma was always very good to me, she helped me buy my first house, a little cabin at Cultus Lake, I had asked to borrow $2000 but she said to consider it my Christmas gifts for the next 5 years and then proceeded to give me money every Christmas anyway. Whenever we had a gathering Grandma was there and without fail I would hear her saying to someone, “Isn’t she a doll? that’s my granddaughter, isn’t she beautiful, such a good girl, she’s always been so good to me.” she’d call me over and pat my arm and say,”We never fought did we dear?” I’d say of course not Grandma. She’d say, “A doll, an angel, I tell you, just beautiful.” One Christmas at my mom’s I was sitting beside grandma and she was telling the room what a doll I was and with every second word she patted my leg with her bony little hand. Her diamond ring was much too large on her tiny finger and the diamond dug deep into my leg with every pat and after a while it started to really hurt. Finally I grabbed her hand and said, “Grandma, hit me one more time with your diamond and you’ll lose your hand.” She looked at me and said, “A doll, such an angel.”

There was something about Grandma not many people knew and it was never talked about. Her first husband was a horribly violent man and treated grandma and my mom like hired hands, he beat my grandma and other horrific things that were never talked about. In those days domestic violence wasn’t talked about or even acknowledged. My grandma had a nervous breakdown, no doubt because of the mind games these assholes use to keep you off-balance; and was sent to a mental institute called Crease Clinic where she was subjected to shock treatment. I can only imagine the horrors she experienced and then had to go home to worse abuse. Even though she had no money, and there was no help from police, or support groups, she didn’t drive, she knew she had to get away. My mom remembers grandma taking her and running into a nearby corn field and hiding for hours. They could hear grandpa looking for them as they hunkered down in the corn field barely able to breathe, knowing if he found them there would be hell to pay. Finally the sun went down, he gave up his search and they snuck out of the corn field and walked miles to my granny’s house where they hid in the attic.

I never understood the strength that must have taken until I experienced abuse and the feeling of helplessness. How scared she must have been, in those days domestic violence was something that no one talked about and if you did try to talk about it you ended up in a mental institution getting shock treatment.

Her second husband was alcoholic but I don’t think he beat her and she stayed with him until he died in his sleep of a heart attack in the bed beside her.

We have come along way since my grandma hid in a corn field but we still have a lot of work to do in the battle against domestic abuse, there are still myths to be dispelled, stereotypes to be corrected, and silence to be broken. For every women who has feared for her life, for every woman who has been told she asked for the abuse or deserved it, for every woman who has died at the hands of the man who promised to always protect her, for every woman who hid the marks on her neck or wore sunglasses to hide a black eye, for every woman and child that lived in fear of daddy coming home, for every child who has witnessed their mother being beaten and felt helpless to stop it, for every woman who has been told it isn’t abuse if there are no bruises I will keep speaking out.

I ask you all to end the silence, silence = shame, silence enables the abuser. In 2010 there were over 102,500 reports of domestic violence (that is just the reported cases) of those incidents 51% of the victims suffered physical injuries.

In the past decade more than half, 65 %, of spouses accused of homicide had a history of violence involving the victim and most of them were after the victim had left the abuser. That is why it is so important to report, charge and not minimize the abuse.

Even the victims minimize the abuse, question themselves, and believe they are special and it won’t happen to them. The really shameful thing is that women partake in the abuse of other women, so needy for a man’s attention they believe his lies that the woman asked for it and he won’t abuse her because she is special, her love has changed him. Wake up people! What is it going to take for society to recognize abuse and shame the abuser and not the victim? When are we going to start raising our daughters to believe they are beautiful from the inside out, that their worth is not decided by a man and they deserve respect? When will our sons be taught that infidelity is not a birth right, that a woman’s place is not in the home catering to his every whim and that a woman cries because she is hurt and not because she is manipulating him, that when a woman says, “That hurts me” , stop! When will people realize that “I’m ok you’re ok” does not mean accept me as I am and if you don’t there’s the door and when will the victim realize that given that choice they should walk out that door and they will survive and thrive. When will women stop asking for respect and accept nothing less than respect for their boundaries?

This is not something that doesn’t affect you, it affects everyone because it is a problem with society, this is not “her” problem, it isn’t “his” problem, it is “our” problem.

Rest in peace Grandma Mary

Love and hugs to my little angel.

Carrie