Tag: toxic
Alienation & extended Famlies
“We often talk about how alienation cuts off one relationship. But in reality the truth is, it severs an entire family line. It has no mercy as it leaves parents without their children. It also leaves grandparents sitting by their windows, flipping through old photo albums, wondering what they did to deserve this treatment.
Remembering all those bedtime hugs, the silly stories, and backyard adventures that came to such a sudden end.If you ask any alienated grandparent, they’ll likely say: “I never thought I’d ever become a stranger to the child I once held in my arms as a baby.”
Now, ask the parents, and most of them will tell you: “I never imagined my own mother or father would lose their grandchild because someone I once trusted decided to destroy everything because of me.”
The saddest part? The alienator isn’t satified with severing just one bond—they tear through entire generations. They conciously choose to rewrite the family story. They turn family closeness into distance, and loving memories into something that hurts too much to remember.
Still, both the parents and grandparents hold on. They keep the birthday cards safely tucked away in drawers. In their mind’s eye, they remember the favorite colors, or the silly sayings, and the way a child’s head once rested under their chin.
Just like the parents who still hear the words, “I love you, Dad,” or, “Don’t let me go, Mom.”
For those living through this, you know that this pain doesn’t just come and go. Instead, it follows you everywhere. Into the grocery store, where another child looks just like yours. Into every holiday season, where an empty chair sits at the table. Even into your nightly dreams, where the reunion plays out perfectly, until you wake up to the same numbing silence you’ve been carrying for months, and sometimes years.
Yet… we still hope. That’s what so many don’t understand. Even after all the unanswered calls, all the doors that were slammed shut on us, all the letters marked “Return to Sender,” we still hope.
We hold onto the possibility of one more chance.
One more knock on the door.
One more opportunity to say, “I never stopped loving you.”
To the alienated grandparents out there, I want to say this: You’re not forgotten. The grief you feel is real. Your love still matters. That special place you held in your grandchild’s life should never have been taken from you.To the parents who are still hanging on: Don’t ever let go.
You’re not weak for caring. You’re certainly not foolish for loving. After all, you’re a parent, and that’s what we do.
To those reading this who’ve never lived through this kind of emotional torture: Please know this kind of silence doesn’t happen by accident. It’s designed.. It’s the product of manipulation, control, and the belief that love should have limits. Maybe one day, the door will open again. Maybe a child, or a grandchild will ask the question that begins to undo all the lies that were told.”
Until then, we wait in the wings… together
✍️ David Shubert
Narcissist communication
Destruction via Narcissist
Parents
Power to heal
Ozone Therapy
Explorations of Psychopath
Covert Arrogance Narcissist
Responsibility for the damage
When You’re the One Who Did the Fucking Damage
By Zen Prem
I didn’t break her heart.
I just drained her soul over time and called it a phase.
She asked for connection.
I rolled my eyes and gave her a fucking TED Talk on why she shouldn’t need it.
It’s easy to talk about being betrayed.
But what about when you were the one holding the match?
I didn’t cheat. I didn’t scream. I just withheld. I just made her feel like she was too much, too often. And then called her unstable
I was the one who made her question her sanity, not by screaming or storming out, but by going quiet.
By deflecting. By saying, “You’re overreacting,” when she was just trying to make sense of the way my eyes started disappearing long before my body did.
I was the man who said all the right things
while living like a walking contradiction.
The man who called her paranoid for checking my phone while I was out there building back-up plans on dating apps
I swore I’d deleted.
The man who said, “Of course I love you,”
but couldn’t sit in the room for five minutes when she cried.
And when she finally stopped trying?
When she went quiet?
I had the audacity to call her cold.
I used to think betrayal had to look like a one night stand. Something obvious.
Something Hollywood.
I thought I was being “conscious” because I didn’t rage or cheat.
But you can ghost someone while living in the same house
Because the truth is that sometimes betrayal is just not showing the fuck up.
It’s apathy. It’s absence. It’s the moment she needed reassurance and I gave her logic. It’s when she reached for me and I reached for my excuses.
And then I had the balls to be confused
about why she couldn’t bounce back.
Why she didn’t trust me the same.
Why she hesitated when I touched her.
But trust isn’t a switch.It’s a nervous system. And once you’ve made someone feel unsafe, you don’t get to ask them to be soft on your schedule.
You don’t get to stab someone emotionally
and then rush their recovery because it’s inconvenient for you to sit in the discomfort you created.
So if you’re reading this thinking,
“Shit. I was him,”
good.
That’s the start.
But don’t rush in to fix it with fucking flowers and promises. Don’t perform guilt hoping to speed past the part where she doesn’t believe a fucking word you say.
Don’t fucking bullshit yourself.
Sit in it.
Hold it.
Earn her safety back, … if she even wants you to.
Because real repair isn’t about the right apology. … It’s about becoming someone who doesn’t need to apologise again.
And sometimes you don’t get to be forgiven.
Sometimes she heals, and never fucking looks back.
You don’t get her back.
You just get the lesson.
By Zen Prem (Noah David)
Co-author of Beyond Bullshit To Bliss
with Samantha Spiro
