Love Bombing – what is it and what it feels like?

Love bombing is an attempt to influence a person by lavish demonstrations of attention and affection. 

Wikipedia

Love Bombing is a seductive tactic that is used when someone who is manipulative tries to control the relationship with bombs brimming with “love” right from day one.

elephantjournal.com

Love bombing is so called because of the constant bombardment of communication from the sociopath.

Datingasociopath.com

Love bombing is an all-encompassing exhaustive campaign of flattery that bombs the target with non-stop positive reinforcement.

Psychopathsandlove.com

Ten years ago I was bombarded by, what I realise now was a psychopath, who over a period of two years sent me a continuous campaign of flattering texts, emails and telephone calls. I only met him in late 2005 and this is what I received come January 2006.

Good morning

I am so happy

Knowing you are the woman I want to marry and call my wife

29.01.06

After leaving an abusive marriage I was vulnerable but  I thought, three years later that I was healed and had found the love of my life. I have never received such wonderful words from anyone before. On reflection, I realise we were not a very demonstrative family. Although my childhood was happy, an outward showing of feelings and love was limited and my first marriage was abusive. This narcissistic sociopathic man I had come into contact with online on a dating site filled a void with lovely words.

In fact, I think I love you too much

But you know what

I don’t care

So long as you love me too

Won't ever break your heart

Can't wait to be with you

13.02.06

I was blown away, infatuated and addicted to the words not him. His love bombing felt like love and I thought I was in love. It's taken 10 years and a tremendous amount of work on myself to understand and accept what happened to me. I was duped, manipulated and love bombed.

What lies behind us?

What lies before us?

Are tiny matters

Compared to what lies within us

Remember always that I love you

08.03.06

What greater flattery than to have someone who adores you and thinks you are the best thing they have ever known. What greater flattery to believe that this person believes they too have found the love of their life and they will “love you forever and never hurt you or make you sad.”

Sherlock Holmes was an idiot

Robert Watt was a fool

Other inventors were all worth nothing

Cos none of them discovered you

I am the genius, cos I found you

25.05.06

I fell hook, line and sinker. I fell head over heels in love; I wanted to believe that this was what love was really like. I wanted to believe that there were good people out there and that there was someone who would see the best in me and love me unconditionally. He came over as loving and caring, trustworthy and loyal and he even agreed he had the same values, ethics, dreams and goals as me. As he states in his text above, yes he was a genius, a genius in manipulation, brainwashing and a genius in lying and not only lying to me but also to himself. He was and is a psychopath.

On my honour, I promise to love you now and forever

You are my life

No man wants to trade anything

And I cannot afford to trade you

You are my life

I’ll love you now and forever

23.06.06

He promised to love me forever, "till death us do part." But he didn’t; he used and abused me in order to obtain a Visa to the UK. He became violent and financially abusive, not contributing adequately to the household finances but sending money to his mother, buying clothes, endless pairs of shoes and going out with his friends. I became a thorn in his side and was not invited to visit with his friends.

You are the best woman on earth

The best in my life

You are my world, my future

I love you baby and I won't ever stop loving you

I will hold you so tight tonight

05.07.06

Realising and accepting you have been lied to and betrayed by someone who was supposed to love and care about you is devasting. For it to happen twice is doubly excruciating. I was traumatised and suffered nightmares, flashbacks, depression, chronic migraine, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Post Traumatic Relationship Disorder (PTRD).  He didn’t care, because just like trash I was cast aside, used and abused, thrown to the sharks and had to somehow save myself.

We are two different people

But I can't imagine my world without you

Why do I think about you so much

That it drives me crazy

I love you

24.08.06

The red flags I should have picked up on were the intensity and rapid pace of the relationship.  But also it was the space I was in at the time. This sociopath caught me at one of my most vulnerable places – leaving and recovering from an abusive marriage of 25 years. I also have to reflect on my childhood as my father was volatile and aggressive and there were little demonstrative love and emotional intelligence shown to me who anyone else in the home. I was not used to this rapid and intense love bombing and unfortunately for me “it felt so good.”

Remember love bombing goes hand in hand with gaslighting, grooming, coercive control and all forms of abuse including sexual as well as child sexual abuse and exploitation. It is used to manipulate the victim into believing that they are deeply loved, special and extremely valuable to the perpetrator. Love bombing is not just used in adult to adult relationships but also adult to child or young person and parent to child/grandparent to child. Love bombing is an insidious part of the abuse and is embedded in every type of abuse and forms part of coercive control and manipulation. 

Perpetrators who use love bombing are usually sociopathic, narcissistic and psychopathic and know exactly what they are doing because it is all about them, for their own gain and theirs alone. Love bombing can happen to you whoever you are, whatever gender, sexual orientation, culture, social standing and age - it is one of the basic needs of a perpetrator and forms the basis for silence and secrets as some abusers rely on their victims to love them or fall in love with them. 

I leave you with this email my perpetrator wrote to me in the very early days of his love bombing:

Honey

Let me start by saying that I thank God every night since I found you. You came into my life when everything seemed so dark but you provided the light to find my way. I've never been so certain of anything in my life like I am of us. You have totally changed my outlook on life and I thank you for that. I never thought that someone could love me like you do, but guess what? I love you that much too. I feel as if I'm walking over clouds just thinking about you. You make my life complete. I know you've said we could do foolish things while in love, but you know what? With you, I wouldn't mind being a fool for the rest of my life. I love you so much and I know you love me too. I know that others looking into our relationship might think that we're saying too many foolish things but they just don't know how we feel about each other. There's nothing foolish about the things I've told you, I meant every word I said. I love you. I would do anything for you. Today I promise you that I would do anything in my power to be a great person, outstanding father and a loving husband for you.

I LOVE YOU!!

If this letter doesn't reach its destination, send it to heaven 'cause it was meant for an angel.

Love you loads

xxx

Love bombing is also an insidious part of Immigration Marriage Fraud which is more prevalent in the UK than individuals believe and still relatively unrecognised fully by the Home Office and UK Border Authorities. Immigration Marriage Fraud, love bombing, coercive control and every other form of abusive behaviours are very difficult to prove in the UK court of law. 

See my other blog post: 
http://averyenglishmrsteacup.blogspot.co.uk/2016/10/immigration-marriage-fraud.html 

The text messages and letter shared in the post are the actual love bombing that I received from my sociopathic abuser just 10 years ago. There are hundreds more; I would receive a minimum of three texts per day over a two year period, that equates to a minimum of 2,184 texts – but it was much much more, I have three notebooks full – you see I recorded everyone.

@ed2inspire

19.02.17

Disclosure – What it can feel like

Let me tell you what it feels like to disclose; to share my story, to disclose my abuse, to talk about it and to let you in. Disclosing to some random person or even all of you here reading this was and has been hugely difficult and challenging over time. So let me try and explain to you what disclosure can look and feel like. The years and years of build up to disclosing are toxic and damaging; holding onto trauma can damage the brain, relationships and cause many disorders, for example, PTSD and cPTSD, DID and other mental health disorders. Some victims and survivors of abuse turn to substances, alcohol and can lose everything and end up on the streets homeless. We refer to survivors as such as some do not make it, some sadly pass away and some commit suicide, some of those who survive campaign to help others and raise awareness of this insidious crime and the long lasting life-long damage of abuse.  

So let me educate you as to what the build up to disclosing feels like...

So let me tell you why I feel blue, why I lost trust and why I was bust. Why decades of shame, blame, silence and tears, living in fear, embarrassed and guilt-ridden, I was a hostage and hidden. I felt worthless and frightened, marginalised, an outsider looking in. I had been sucked in by a charmer, lied to by a groomer, coerced by a narcissist, gaslit by a psychopath. Life has been sad; I even asked if I was really bad.

I have been lost at a heavy cost, I became invisible, haunted with a miserable soul and my heart and spirit broken, my voice was taken; you see my abuser spoke for me. I thought I was smart but even I fell apart. Abuse is abysmal; it is a sick excuse for silence and secrets, threats and fear, exclusion and segregation, rejection and elimination. We become nobodies encased in guilt & shame and the damage is life-long, we never forget.

He held my head against a wall, took me by the throat, pulled me along by my hair and pushed me till I fell with his flying fists. His evil words flowed like fjords which damaged my psyche and he thought he would break me. My confidence was destroyed; I was embarrassed, ashamed, dirty, unclean, muted, unseen; my personality stripped, I was controlled and gripped, my sanity was blown, my mind not my own. I was told I am paranoid and it was all in my imagination. My brain was fried and my inner child died; I never cried, you see I couldn’t my tears had run dry, I was completely cried out. Is it really me? Would I ever be free?

I lived like a zombie and life was lonely; I was encased in a fog my body trapped in a bog. I was being sucked under by quicksand and manipulated by his hands. Isolated, kidnapped, and taken hostage in my own home; invisible, unseen, all I wanted to do was hide, my heart had died. The pain and trauma left me in a coma; the lethargy was indescribable…please let me sleep till I see next world, let me die; take me now anything but these lies and mental abuse.

I was angry, confused, cynical and scared; triggers the worst, flashbacks a curse. Sleepless nights and nightmare fights. The foetal position kept me safe; you see I took no chances from his unwanted advances so I barricaded the bedroom door trying to protect my inner core. You see I was not consenting which for him was degrading.

All this a secret behind closed doors, a door he held the key to, quite literally. A charade played out privately, I must behave publicly. Mustn’t cause any doubt of this big fat lie, we don’t want neighbours to pry. But back home I get the stick, a fist or a barrage of words. Who’s going to believe me and give some reprieve, there’s no one who knows because it’s too outlandish, scandalous, and outrageous; too taboo this dirty word called abuse. You see no one talks about this ghastly stuff because it’s too uncomfortable, it doesn’t happen at others tables.

Outwardly I look fine; my façade in place, lipstick shining nothing is ever out of place. My persona flawless, polished & gleaming but underneath there is a pain so deep that I am trying desperately to escape. The pain goes to the core of my being and that damage is life-long and, I believe, can never be fully healed although the past is past and I now live in the moment – not the past or the future – the moment.

Disclosure is the hardest act, and that’s a fact; to open up and share my dirty laundry, my personal story with all of you, for all of you to share, have a pop at, an opinion and a judgement, even discuss embarrassing and shameful, makes me feel dirty and unclean, muted and unseen. People see me differently now and I am different, I can never to be the same again, how can I and nor should I and I shouldn’t have to explain to you or anyone what it feels like to be abused.

So, don’t tell me to get over it or move on; don’t tell me to forget it or it’s in the past because let me tell you it’s impossible. What most survivors need are someone who listens and believes and who can scoop you up and believe in you; can give a hug and smile and a cuppa tea. If this is possible there’s a small chance of healing and a small chance of hope and peace, of breaking the cycle and the pattern. There is a chance of a brighter future, a chance of peace of mind and a chance of being somebody again and a chance we can find a safer place to live and breathe in solace.

Now you know a little of what it feels like to suffer decades of abuse and then have to tell some random stranger in a uniform, your journey of abuse, over and over, somewhere clinical because they decide that’s the best way to disclose. And when you do find the time to listen to me, you have no excuse to disbelieve or doubt my words or feelings, question my mental health or my historic sexual activity. What you do have to do is listen, hear, believe and care about me. You have no excuse or reason to disbelieve me or anyone else who finds the strength and courage to disclose their story of abuse.

Never judge a child, teenager, young person, adult or the elderly whether they be male or female, of any gender, social standing or culture who have suffered abuse - historic or current, sexual or otherwise, domestic violence or abuse or not. Consider how challenging it is to speak, possibly as long as three score years and ten later about an evil perpetrator that abused them as a child.

Remember others may never tell or my find the courage, beat the shame and tell someone safe before their passing. We must honour the brave that comes forward and disclose this insidious crime who have the courage to speak out to endeavour to make changes to current systems, laws and procedures in order to safeguard current and future generations of children and young people.

So when someone discloses their horrific abuse have the decency and respect to believe them.

The greatest gift you can give a victim or survivor of abuse is to believe them.

This is a small precis of my talk about Disclosure in Antrobus, Cheshire with @VoicingCSA on Saturday 11th February 2017. To see the full talk please go to: 

Voicing CSA Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pg/voicingcsa/about/?ref=page_internal

Website: https://.voicingcsa.uk

Email: at contact@voicingcsa.co.uk 

Twitter: @voicingcsa



On Saturday 12th February 2017  I was lucky enough to meet and spend time with actor Chris Harper at the Escape Charity Event at Old Trafford VIP Suite, Manchester. Chris currently plays the role of groomer "Nathan" in Coronation Street; as Nathan, he will go on to groom Bethany over the next few weeks.  I spent quality time discussing my own story of grooming, gaslighting and coercive control with Chris in order to assist him with his research in his role as a paedophile and perpetrator of abuse.

You can read the article/interview with Chris Harper  in the Sunday Mirror today (12.02.2017) where, as an Ambassador, he supports charity  Voicing CSA and shares a small part of my story here: 

http://www.mirror.co.uk/tv/tv-news/coronation-street-star-reveals-met-9800715

@ed2inspire

12.02.17

Ghosts of a Narcissist

Sixteen years ago I fled; sixteen years ago I believed I was free but the domestic abuse and narcissist still follows stalks and haunts me today. It is incredible to me that I can move hundreds of miles away from my narcissist to a quiet corner of the globe, change everything about me yet again, to free myself from the narcissist but the ghost still follows me, tracks me down and haunts me. The ghost seems to sit on my shoulder as if he is my friend and, now and again, thinks it's ok to give me a shove in order to let me know I will never be free.

My narcissist is the father of my child so, I suppose if I am honest, it is inevitable that I continue to hear his name and situation now and again but I did not expect to still be traumatised and triggered sixteen years on. He continues to tell lies about me to family members which still hurt today as if I am still embroiled in the abuse of yesteryear and yet I should be over him and a free woman. But can I ever be truly and fully free? Maybe not? Maybe as survivors of abuse, we can never feel fully free of a narcissist or sociopath when you have children with him. Maybe that just what I will always be “just” a survivor; I survived physically and manage to not get murdered, so I am a survivor but am I kidding myself that I am a thriver or a warrior?

So, today I find myself making phone calls to agencies and organisations that he has lied to in order to alleviate myself from harassment calls. Yesterday he told a family member that I was the only person who could deal with his mother’s cremated ashes held at the funeral directors because I had paid the final invoice. What? Me the ex-wife, paid the final invoice for his mother funeral expenses? What sort of rubbish is that? What utter nonsense. And individuals believe this crap that spews from his mouth. You see a narcissist can convince anyone that he is viable, honest and right. This family member, brainwashed, coerced and gaslit by his sociopathic lies, thinks I am the one stopping his poor deceased mother being interred. Can you believe it? Can you believe any of it? It is unbelievable, stupid and far fetched but he is so convincing and plays the "victim card" that I know people will believe him. Stories like this one have spewed from his mouth before and I have lost good long standing friends due to his cruel lies and gaslighting.

Haven’t my daughter and I suffered enough? How much more does the universe want us to suffer? Abuse, a marriage breakup, divorce, starting over with nothing, fleeing, losing my home, my friends, my husband, my life and then enduring years of financial abuse and hardship, lies, stalking, harassment and threats and now this. Is that not enough? obviously not, his lies continue and bubble up every so often to a point where I cannot take it anymore. Most of the time I thrive, sometimes I am a true warrior but there are minuscule amounts of time when I fall into the deep cesspit of sadness and despair and blubber like a baby. I blubber so hard that I am so scared I will not stop. I blubber so hard that the sobs come from deep inside my stomach. I blubber so hard my soul hurts and my heart feels physical pain. I blubber so hard it feels like I may pass out. Once my taps are turned on it is almost impossible to turn them off. Interestingly, once my tap is full on, my eyes cry freely and automatically for days after, even when I have turned my tap off. The pain I feel is indescribable and no one can fully understand the depth of damage by a narcissist, sociopath or psychopath. I am sure some of those reading this, and who follow my blog posts, will know what I am talking about, understand and feel the same way too.

So, through a marriage and a child, I am tied to a narcissist in a small way possibly forever or until one of us passes. No matter how far away I move the ghosts of my narcissist will haunt me in some way for the rest of my days on this earth. Even if it’s just the simple mention of the words – husband, Dad or father.

25.01.17

@ed2inspire

I have been Daniel Blake; I was Katie Morgan

Finally, I managed to see this movie and I sobbed uncontrollably throughout. I was Katie Morgan and I have been Daniel Blake. The memories and triggers came back so strong during many scenes that I thought I was going to have to leave the cinema. Ken Loach’s accurate portrayal of poverty and the benefits system was so poignant and acute that I found myself wanting to scream out in the cinema. I wanted to scream “this was me”. I cannot begin to explain how it feels to be so poor you cannot feed yourself, only your children and you don’t eat for days and feel so hungry you eat cold baked beans from the tin. During the movie I had heart palpitations and thought I was going to hyperventilate and have a panic attack, I was so traumatised by the portrayal of a poor single mum just trying to do what’s right for her kids; I thought I would pass out. And no, I am not a neurotic attention seeking Mum, I am real, honest and feel things and want you to understand how very real the I, Daniel Blake meassage really is.

I was Katie Morgan. Single parent, no money, working all hour’s God made just to put food on the table for my child and keep a roof over our heads. I was a Nursery School Manager, working 15 hour days but, alone, I could never earn enough in this particular industry to cover my immediate costs. Before I had even bought food I had to earn £1000.00 to cover my mortgage and utilities. I lost my house to the bank; finally, they took it from me and we were homeless. I have never owned a house since and my retirement looks bleak financially.

I couldn’t afford to pay for gas and electric so I had meters put into the house, but no one tells you they cost more than the usual tariffs; the Utility companies ripping off the most vulnerable and the poor. I asked for them to be removed, but it cost £400.00 to have them taken out; I was locked in and no more 50pence pieces went in, I couldn’t afford it. Like Katie Morgan, we sat in the dark with candles and night lights in our coats, hats, gloves and scarves, wrapped up in blankets with a hot water bottle, night after night to keep warm. Or we went to bed, snuggled up together, just to endeavour to keep warm. My child has experienced things no child should, but we have always had each other and have always survived.

I was Katie Morgan. I still worked long hours but still had very little money for food. I borrowed small amounts of cash from friends every week just so I could feed my daughter and I ate toast for breakfast lunch and dinner. I was hungry and depressed; is this what life is all about? Is this what life should be like? None of this was in my game plan but after domestic abuse, surviving and survival was the only way forward. I had no choice but to show my daughter my inner strength for her future.

I was Daniel Blake. The first time I used the Job Centre I was appalled. The queues and the wait time, then how they spoke to me as if I was a piece of shit on the bottom of their shoe. The hoops I had to jump through to be paid trivial amounts of money. I had to share my private life with the Job Centre only to be told I was not entitled to anything. Because I owned my house and earned too much I could not get anything. I was one of the Great British Public that was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. I would need to not work or earn less money, be homeless and evicted and then if I was lucky I might be assisted. I complained to the manager of Job Centre Plus three times about the treatment of me but nothing changed. They asked the same questions, made me prove I had job searched and sent me to interviews where it was obvious I would never be employed. I hated how they treated everyone the same. Everyone was put into the same box – scroungers, thick, unintelligent wasters who didn’t want to work – I was appalled to be treated this way, but no amount of complaining changed a bureaucratic brainwashing system – every customer service assistant was like a robot. They had been trained to speak the same language and not deviate from the crib sheet. Job Centre Plus you should be ashamed.

I was Daniel Blake. The stress levels were inexplicable. I hated going to the Job Centre weekly and going through the same process with yet another robotic customer service assistant. In the end, I gave up. It was less stressful to sit at home with no gas and electric and lose my house to the bank. How can that be right? What a way to treat the most vulnerable people in our society. They never did get me a job. I found it myself through sheer hard work and determination, knocking on doors, selling myself and sending out my experience resume. I have worked worked worked to get where I am today and I still work hard. But I also give back and help others because I know how it feels to be alone, scared, depressed and suicidal.

So, my uncontrollable sobs that came from deep within my soul while watching “I, Daniel Blake the Movie” were pent up years of unresolved trauma, PTSD and triggers that were brought to the surface by this great movie. Please do not be under any illusion whatsoever that Ken Loach et al has exaggerated the story line and life of Katie Morgan or Daniel Blake. I have chest pains and trouble breathing just writing this blog post. The memories of those times of severe hardship are so excruciatingly painful that even now it’s almost too much to bear. So, when poor Daniel suffers another major heart attack at the end of the movie don’t be under any illusion that this is “farfetched”. Many have suffered at the hands of the benefits system and bedroom tax and even passed away during the austerity in Great Britain. Dealing with the robots at Job Centre Plus, food banks, mortgage companies and piles of threatening brown envelopes pushed through my letterbox every morning was incredibly stressful. Letters requesting immediate payment, stamped “final bill” in bright red across the middle of the page or opening a court order was excruciatingly painful and I did not have a bean to pay. I was so scared and depressed I gave up opening them in the end; it was easier. The pile grew and became an origami sculpture on the worktop.

I was Katie Morgan and I have been Daniel Blake.

There are hundreds of Katie Morgan’s and Daniel Blake’s still suffering now at the wicked hands of austerity and the benefits system. Many of us are definitely not scroungers or wasters. Most of us just want to survive with the basics of life – love, warmth, clothing, food and a roof over our heads. My basic human rights, yes? And the rights of my child, yes, what do you think? 

I was Katie Morgan only ever trying to do right by my child - just like her. 

And as for Daniel, no one should die due to excessive stress just trying to get help from a system set up, supposedly, to help the most needy to survive and live a fairer life. What a waste of a decent human life; I, Daniel Blake was a special person, he was talented, intelligent, kind and caring. The establishment has forgotten that we pay in during our lifetime in order to get something back when the going gets real tough. We shouldn't have to fight for that. I am no waster or shirker of work and I expect people to treat me with respect even at my lowest point.

Shameful. The system is shameful and disgraceful.

So, my sobs were justified. I not only sobbed for me and my daughter, but I sobbed for all those out there that I know still fight the system, Job Centre Plus, the government, the establishment, courts, judges and justice. I sobbed for all of us that have suffered, and are still suffering, excruciating pain at the wicked hands of these individuals and organisations. 

22.01.17

@ed2inspire

Recovery from Abuse

What does recovery from abuse look like?

What does it feel like?

Sound like? Smell like? Taste like?

How does recovery happen and when?

Can it happen; can it ever happen? Does it ever happen?

Should it happen?

Does anyone have the right to expect it to happen? Is it possible?

I don’t know if full recovery can ever happen. Triggers are there for life, aren’t they? Smells, sounds, people and places, words and music all contribute to remembering. The memories never go away, do they? The memories we make are supposed to be good ones, ones that we can rediscover at times with great pleasure. But memories of abuse and the individuals involved, together with the places and events, haunt us and never go away. They are never far from the surface. They cause trauma, stress, sleeplessness, anxiety and sadly, some rely on drugs, alcohol and prescription medication. Self-harming, homelessness, eating disorders and poor mental health can all affect a victim of abuse.

Recovery is a big and powerful word as far as I am concerned.

The dictionary definition states:

“It is a return to a normal state of health, mind or strength”

And goes on to use the following words to define “recovery”

• ·         Recuperation
• ·         Convalescence
• ·         Return to health
• ·         Process of getting better
• ·         Healing
• ·         Improvement
• ·         Revival
• ·         Renewal
• ·         Show signs of recovery

All the above words are difficult to swallow as a victim of abuse because each one of them only helps us for small windows of space and time in our healing, as we dip in and out of recuperation, healing, improvement, revival and signs of recovery.

What is a “normal state of health, mind and strength”? Who defines this in abuse victims and survivors? Who do we know that is able to define this? I know I resent friends and family asking if I have recovered or “got over it” or saying “you need to just move on”. It is not that simple. Our brains are patterned to remember our abuse, to remember the memories. The shame, guilt and embarrassment are embedded in our psyche. It runs through our veins. Most of us, at some time, have been programmed and groomed to keep the secret and remain silence until we cannot live that way any further.

By the time we have the “return to a normal state of strength” and talk about what happened to us, we are about to burst, explode, combust and cannot live like that anymore. The living a double life, living a lie, keeping the secret and just getting on with life as best we can put a huge strain on the victim and in many cases the family too.  But even after we have shared our biggest encumbrance with that trusted someone the memories never leave us. Keeping the secret is what the abuser relies on; secrets and lies are what abuse is founded on. Speaking out is what we must do, but it's finding the health, mind and strength to do this, that is the never ending challenge for each victim and survivor.

I ask myself regularly should my memories be just that, memories. Are my triggers healthy and do they keep me safe. Do my memories really remind me to be careful about the future? Do others have a right to decide what memories we hang onto and what ones we disregard? Do others have the right to determine when and how we recover? Do others have the right to judge us when a smell or piece of music on the radio resort us to tears or anger? Time and place, photos and restaurants, music and movies still trigger me and regurgitate a memory that will make me sad, scared and anxious, stressed or even have palpitations. I am sure they do that to you too. We will all have different spaces, items and situations that act as reminders and triggers and that’s ok.

So the big question is, can we, as survivors of abuse, ever really and truthfully be fully recovered and returned to a normal state of health, mind or strength or all three.

My answer to this is that some days we can and some days we can’t, that “recovery” is a constant treadwheel of trying and making the best of each moment, hour and day. We can only do our best and of course that is ok. We can only live in the moment. I can’t think of the future and I try not to dwell too much on the past. I have learnt not to beat myself up about the past or the future. No one knows what is round the corner for any of us and worrying about my future makes me sad. Dwelling on my past makes me unhappy too, so I have learnt to live in the moment and try to enjoy each moment of today. Today is the only day I might have, so I enjoy it to its fullest.

I enjoy my home, the air I breathe, the wind on my face, the peace of my farm nestled away in the Pennines, my family and my animals. It is the first time in many years I have actually found Elaine again and can be truly me with no judgements.  No one has the right to say “just get over it” or “you need to move on” because “recovery” is in your time, space and pace, if at all. For some recovery will only come with justice and that can take a lifetime in some cases. Recovery can take a lifetime for us all and, of course, that is absolutely ok too.

Why I can Never be Fully Healed from my Abuse http://averyenglishmrsteacup.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/i-can-never-be-fully-healed-from-my.html

This blog post gives a small insight into my recovery, healing and my incy-wincy (as I call it) golden nugget that remains at the very base of my brain in order to keep me safe from ever having to suffer any form of abuse ever again. My tiny golden nugget is my safety net and pops into action whenever I feel unsafe or vulnerable and reminds me to be wary, cautious, vigilant and trust my gut.

My Story can be read here:

http://averyenglishmrsteacup.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/another-place-another-time-one.html

@ed2inspire

05.01.2017

Voicing CSA National Meetings for Survivors of Abuse

I have spoken at two of Voicing CSA (VCSA) meetings now. One in Todmorden West Yorkshire and the second in Telford Shropshire; my Todmorden presentation was entitled The Abuse of Power in all Abusive Relationships and my Telford one was The Effects After Grooming. Both presentations are hard hitting, informative and I set out to educate the audience.

I speak about abuse; I shout about it. I am not afraid of the perpetrator and I will never be silenced. To be silenced make me complicit because perpetrators hide behind secrets, silence, fear and threats. I will not play that game and never be silenced or fearful again. Anyone reading this must not be fearful. Narcissists are weak when they lose control over their victim; let’s ensure we make every narcissist and sociopath weak.

Narcissists rely on grooming their victim and all those around them; family, friends and extended family, I call this “The Charming Syndrome”. Most abusers are in places of power and abuse that power to groom their victim. By having a place of power makes it almost impossible for the community and society at large to believe that “they could ever do anything so sinister as to abuse a child or young person”. Open your eyes and look into the cracks and darkest of corners and you will see.

The VCSA meetings are extremely productive, well attended by survivors, deliver a wide range of knowledge from very eminent speakers and certainly raise awareness of child sexual abuse and the lifelong effects on the victims and survivors.

Survivors are given a safe space to share their journey (if they wish) and many do, their stories are heart-breaking. Survivors are also given a safe space to give advice on their own perspective of the disclosure and court process and procedures. This can be very helpful and informative to other survivors who may be going through the court process or are considering commencing a disclosure of their own abuse.

Professional attendees have been Sexual Assault & Rape Centres (SARC), Victim Support and Victim Support Sexual Assault Outreach Centre, the police, lawyers and social workers; many other professionals and a wide range of victims and survivors of abuse. We even motivate local radio and the press to attend; it is awesome the impact VCSA has, and is making throughout the UK.

There is always therapy and support in place for anyone who is triggered or needs a quiet space to think, consider and digest.

The speaker’s presentations can be viewed on Vimeo, Voicing CSA website, Facebook and Twitter.

Up-coming meetings can be viewed here:  www.voicingcsa.co.uk

VCSA’s message is clear: To give survivors a safe space and to raise awareness of the depth of child sexual abuse, rape and sexual assault in all institutions and organisations where children have been cared for, and now attend, in order to make a safer future for all children of today and tomorrow.

VCSA intends to travel the UK holding meetings in as many UK cities and towns as possible to support victims and survivors and to raise awareness of the issues surrounding CSA as well as giving advice, knowledge and information to victims, survivors, agencies, professionals and the community.

Please share this blog post widely to help get the message out there. In the light of the Football scandal being unearthed we should all now be looking at every regulated institution and organisation where children attend and be asking them to consult their memories and files and declare any wrong doing from the past. Child abuse is, and must be, everyone’s business and we must all speak up and out if we are really serious about safeguarding children now and in the future.

The best gift you can give to any child, young person or adult this Christmas (or at any time of year) is TO BELIEVE THEM.

Believe and get the right support.

The breaking Football Scandal is only the tip of the ice burg, this is happening in every corner of the community and society. Remember abusers do not want to be caught or “outed” so gagging orders and payments to be silenced are the ultimate precipice or tactic that the abuser will use keep the silence, secret and fear. So now is the time to come forward and speak out about any suspected or known abuse, both now or in the past. Its time. The brave footballers who have spoken out have paved the way for all our voices to be heard and believed. So don't make this a wasted moment. Come forward to save a child, young person or adult's life.

www.voicingcsa.co.uk

@voicing_csa

Immigration Marriage Fraud

If you don't know how Marriage Immigration Fraud feels let me tell you the devastation one feels when you come to your senses and realise that the love of your life is a fake. 

After 10 years of unconditional love you feel a complete and utter fool to have been sucked into this carnage and mess. How could an intelligent mature career woman have been duped by a man for 10 years? How can this vile man have kept up the façade for 10 years? This behaviour begs all to ask themselves, what sort of man thinks this way and makes the conscious decision to seek out a woman and commit such devastating fraud. The abuser will spend hours, days and years love bombing their victim, then date and even marry victim knowing full well that the entire relationship is built on falsehoods and is some sort of sick game.

Immigration marriage fraud is relatively unknown but extremely prevalent. And the devastation it causes to the victim is equal to complex post-traumatic stress syndrome (cPTSD). When the perpetrator and abuser leave the victim, the after effects for the victim are disastrous. The self-blame, embarrassment, guilt and shame that the victim feels for many years causes life threatening behaviours, substance abuse, self-harming, isolation, exiled from family members and friends, even suicidal thoughts and in some cases, suicide.

I want to make everyone to be aware of this wicked crime and understand that it happens and is going on all around us. I want everyone to understand the sick to your stomach feeling when you realise your marriage has been a sham. When you have invited a man into your life home and family and they have pretended to enjoy the family relationships and bonds. What sort of person can keep this up? I will tell you –narcissistic, sociopathic individuals, even psychopaths. They have no conscience about what they have done or are doing and the devastation they leave behind.

The devastation does not just affect the victim; it affects the family and extended family, the children, friends and the wider community. The whole of the immigration system is put to shame as there is no system in place to check individuals and the individuals are not interviewed by the Home Office with their partner/wife/husband in order to check out the situation. There is no follow up. After the Citizenship Ceremony and the Home Office Interview – the little red book can be picked up. This is when the perpetrator changes his loving behaviours and becomes an abuser.

Consequently, there is confusion and no one feels the same anymore. No one looks at the victim the same way anymore. Everyone around the victim has that look of we told you so or we tried to warn you. The victim can never be the same person ever again. What the victim feels is indescribable. The victim isolates themselves, as it is easier to shut one-self away – then there is no explaining. The victim can never trust men again or trust herself to make good choices in men ever again. Having made such a mistake, how can the victim trust her own instincts ever again? How can you know when a man is telling you the truth? How does anyone know? Perpetrators will tell you anything to suck you into their criminal world.

There is also nowhere to go with this crime. The authorities do not recognise this crime yet. It is hard to prove as always – one word against another. The courts struggle to believe either side – the victim or the perpetrator. The victim is left to suffer the consequences of a criminal gang of scammers and 419ers who target women on dating websites. The 419ers endeavour to target women with money; sadly my scammer picked a girl with no money. Nevertheless, the damage and devastation is no less. I will never get over being scammed, partly because although everyone told me to be careful and no one in my friends or family trusted him, I believed he loved me with his whole being and unconditionally. I believed this relationship was forever and I had found my soulmate and love of my life. For two years he love bombed me.

On reflection, I realise I had not at all. He was just out for what he could gain from me. Knowledge of the British system, a roof over his head, clothes, food and wine, holidays, use of my car, my intelligence to write his CV and job applications and the most valuable little red book in the world – a British Passport. I did everything for him; he asked me to do everything for him. I loved him unconditionally and I wanted to help him and be a good wife – that’s what you do, don’t you? Once we separated he disclosed that I had controlled him – bullshit, he had groomed and coerced me into believing that we were in a marriage – immigration marriage fraud. He is sociopathic, narcissistic and psychopathic. He has attempted to paint me as the bad person, when I did nothing wrong other than throw my tea in his face when he succumbed to yet another lie. That day I asked him to leave. I couldn’t go through an abusive relationship for a second time. It was over and he packed and left. He gets on with his life in London while I have the trauma of picking up the pieces and trying to get on with my life and move on.

There is so much more to my story; far too much to write here. There is more to come. Stay posted to this blog for updates.

www.immigrationmarriagefrauduk.com

www.stopukmarriagefraud.com

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2944306/One-thousand-fraudsters-wed-British-women-visas-not-ONE-deported-Home-Office-shambles.html

http://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/145096/Fix-law-to-stop-passport-marriage-fraudsters

28.10.15

@ed2inspire