How do I begin sharing my story?
How do I explain why I’m sharing my story?
I guess, as the Good Witch told Dorothy, “It’s always best to begin at the beginning.”
I was born into a family-unit known as a Narcissistic/Borderline Couple. My parents each struggled with mental illness and multiple addictions, however, each firmly believed nothing was ever their fault. If the other person would just change, then life would be hunky-dory and they could float along on a cloud of rainbow sparkles to a wonderful marriage and super-stardom.
Of course, it didn’t happen.
My sister and I were raised in an environment where the mother regularly kicked, slapped, punched, and screamed at the father. They “nearly divorced” twice a year. Our needs, desires, and development were consistently lost in the toxic mix of violence and fake-family-love. Eventually, my sister spiraled downward into her own vortex of addiction and mental illness.
I was the “lucky” one. I became a Christian.
I am, and always will be, a close, intimate follower of Christ. However, thanks to my upbringing, in my journey I embraced some beliefs that were outright spiritually abusive, and are not Biblical in any way, shape, or form. Growing up, I was not allowed any personal opinions, tastes, or traits that diverged from my parents–and when I got out, I *willingly* embraced a culture where I was not allowed any personal opinions, tastes, or traits that diverged from the patriarchal teachings.
This blog is where “Taylor Joy Recovers.” I want to share my journey out of the pain of my past, and into God’s marvelous light. I want to document what it’s like to grow up with a disabled sense of self, and try to piece one together.
I just can’t do that under my real name. Sorry about that.
I made the horrid mistake of using my real name *once* in writing about having an alcoholic mother. (Even though it was my married name, in a niche magazine, and it took her a year to find it.) My mother threatened to sue the magazine, the publisher, me, my husband, and probably the inventor of the font they used. Never-ending lawsuits are a trait of many Borderlines. I’ve learned that I have to protect myself from even the possibility of her fierce intellect and long-standing grudges being aimed at me and my family.
However, I feel a strong need to share my story. Breadcrumbs and pebbles helped Hansel and Gretel get out of the woods where they were left to die by evil and weak parents. Hopefully, I can throw a few pebbles your way.