Mister Misery

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It wasn’t all bad all the time growing up with these men, there were moments with them that meant everything to me… the moments where certain things are said or certain things are done that had appeared to be genuine confused me because prior to that they couldn’t stop being violent or cutting us children down..

The moments were the talking is rational and their behavior is normal had me wondering if this is who they really are and if it was why would they try so hard to hide this person… but i also wondered if how they were acting was even real and how hard they had to pretend to be that nice… i couldn’t tell… because for so long prior to those moments they were mean, violent and couldn’t get enough of degrading our mother to us… maybe they thought that a rarely given moment like that we would overlook everything they had done just moments before… maybe they thought that their nice words or nice way of talking we would overlook all their cut downs.. i wondered how hard it was for them to be that nice and that if at some point they couldn’t handle the fact that there being so nice so they went back to their usual self…

Did it bother them seeing other people happy? happiness and chaos seemed to dictated by the men of the house… if things were running to smooth they didn’t hesitate to shake it up a bit… maybe they’re addicted to the chaos…

The thing is they were apart of my “childhood” all the bad and the moments of it being okay, I never wondered why they did certain things because what are the chances of getting an honest and genuine answer let alone them owning up to what they did… i did wonder if they wanted to be a better person but just couldn’t because being a better person was to difficult for them, maybe they were comfortable being completely miserable… perhaps the statement “misery loves company” couldn’t be more true… maybe the fact you hold on in hopes to see them change, be better or be nicer because they show you just that in those rarely given moments.. that might be their key to how “misery keeps its company”….

 

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46 thoughts on “Mister Misery

  1. I think those people have so much hatred towards themselves, the only thing they’re willing to do for others is share that hate. They make their vicious cycles and bad habits a priority, instead of making themselves a priority first, before they attempt to love someone else. They seclude themselves, they forget they have inner feelings, so it’s hard to see their motives. Only God knows.

    Sometimes I don’t understand why they live in torment, and off the torment of others.

    It sounds like you’ve gone through a lot of rough patches! But, it’s brave of you to share this AND for escaping the darkness. If you get a chance, read this book called “Living life as a Thank You – The transformative power of daily gratitude” by Nina Lesowitz and Mary Beth Sammons. It is absolutely beautiful and inspiring.

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  2. I think I have the gist of what you’re trying to say here – you couldn’t distinguish what was their true personalities… the meanness or the niceness. I’d have to say they were both, just as you and I are capable of being both. The weak are ruled by their emotions, and often have no control over them, so when they’re happy, they’re nice guys… but when their fear, anxiety, or paranoia kick in, well, they respond to those emotions too, regardless of the consequences.

    I can remember watching my father from the shadows as he sat around with a group of people, laughing, telling stories. His stories amazed me. It’s perhaps why I’m a writer today. I don’t know. I don’t particularly like giving him credit for things, because he was the most evil person I ever knew. Yet, I loved him and always hoped for the best. But, this particular time, I must have been about ten years old, and by this time in my life the extent of the abuse that I saw or endured would make most people squeamish. I hated him, yet loved him, feared him, yet challenged him. But, in that one moment, hearing him laugh, hearing him tell the most engaging story, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. That was my father. Though he could hurt me in the most unimaginable way, I also knew he loved me. Though it was a pathetic love, not even a real love, but it was the best he could produce. He had no love for himself, so had no love to give. So, he was both the good father and the bad father, capable of inspiring a daughter to dream and having her scream out in pain and fear. Within each of us resided the capability for both good and evil. It’s our choice who we let out.

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  3. I believe too they are addicted to chaos, and I also believe the “nice” side was really a ploy to keep others confused and lull them into the mentality that maybe they are really nice just to keep their captors guessing and hanging on to the hope that there could be change.

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  4. I have a family like that. They grew up like that, they surrounded themselves with the same kind of people who did that, and so they never opened their eyes to see anything other than that. These types of people are no benefit. They have allowed themselves to be human waste.

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  5. Martha Kennedy

    I think there are people (and I think I am one) who become very uncomfortable when things are going well and they are happy. I think this comes from growing up (in my case) in an alcoholic family. My dad was sober, but his dad had been a drunk, so my dad’s idea of normal was not quite right. My mom, as you know, was a drunk. It seemed we lived in a constant tension such that when things were WORKING well, someone had to throw a wrench into that. I found myself this weekend having a great time in Colorado with friends but after a certain point I actually started feeling uneasy about that. I really doubted my ability to 1) believe they could possibly still like me, 2) something awful wasn’t going to happen soon to break the spell. I began feeling the need for reassurance and I started looking for it. I held my shit together, but observing myself was a little depressing. At a certain point I stopped feeling like myself and started feeling as if I had to be aware of every change of atmosphere and I needed to be proactive to make sure everyone still liked me. Very creepy.

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  6. I admire you for trying to find the good in them Teddy. That is what love is all about. You recognize the broken places and acknowledge their awful behavior towards those smaller and less powerful than they made themselves, and yet you have found a way not to hate them for it. That is forward movement and will keep you from repeating the same errors towards people you love. I am glad for you to be able to share this way. Keep moving upward.

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  7. I have a family that is stuck in a horrible, life sucking cycle. The is this: Reproduce, treat your spouse and children like crap until they become so afraid of speaking their minds that they think they have no mouth. And then when you see what you’ve done, you retreat and you “make it up” by pulling every resource of being happy that you have, out of a bag and surprise them. Then you continue to go back to hating yourself so much that you put the happy back into the bag because you don’t think you deserve it. It’s self destruction at it’s finest… My father was a really intense, abusive man when I was growing up and he would go around belittling everyone and then he would “make up for it” being nice and happy and loving and then just go back to how he was… I think they have the “good” inside of them, but they have inside conflicts with it. People who are that miserable (and maybe for good reason) don’t believe that they deserve happiness, so they feel the need to take everyone else’s happiness away too because they don’t want to be lonely. Misery does love it’s company…

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  8. Hi Teddy. Your post makes so much sense to me. I have no hard feelings toward my real father because he has paranoia schizophrenia. When he “went off the deep end” (not the PC way of saying it, but that’s what we called it as kids,) I was scared by his behavior and verbal abuse. Yet at an early age, I knew he had mental problems.

    It is my stepfather who tormented me, my siblings, and my mom. It took so many years to come to terms with his abuse and why my mom put up with it and allowed us to be abused.

    I finally forgave him, not for him, but for me. Anger and hatred toward others have a way of seeping your joy. It’s a leech. I realized my stepfather didn’t care if I hated him.

    I forgave him for me. My younger sister recently did the same. My brother, ten years younger, and basically raised by our stepfather has yet to come to that realization.

    He is tormented by past things. I can only pray he one day can come to terms with the abuse too.

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    • that good i am glad you and your sister forgave him… it will take time for your brother but eventually he will come to terms with it… that’s crazy how we have similar step dads…

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      • I have thought about sharing some of my past experiences on my blog and may do so in the future as tidbits of my book.

        It does seem crazy we have similar step dads. However, your blog helps me work through demons I’d thought were dealt with, so I greatly appreciate your posts. 🙂

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  9. you know, with every post of yours that I read, I relate to you more and more. I could swear I’m the female version of you. if someone were to blindfold me and read your posts to me, I could swear they’re talking about my life.
    keep up the good work teddy 🙂

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    • haha *female version of me* i like that, thank you tara…
      its funny because the things i think about you put into your blog and i find myself thinking *i was just thinking that*.. i look forward to all your post 🙂
      BTW i think you should make another blog the reality bitch slap of sorts sounds great, i think a lot people need a reality check at least twice and who better to give them that then you 🙂

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      • haha that’s so crazy! I really am though, female, aussie version of you hahaha so weird.
        thankyou! yeah I’ve started the process so I’ll post the link up/add the link to my site and things like that soon enough.

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      • that’s it and I think when I first started blogging, I was afraid to bcause I was worried about what people would think of me, but as time sort of went on I noticed that I’ve not been doing myself justice because I’m holding back more than what I do in “real life”, not that i’m not being myself but just holding back and biting my tongue, which isn’t me

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      • Yeah don’t do that Tara. Its going rub people wrong and people won’t like it but that comes with the territory of being brutally honest mixed with humor. That to me is the best. I enjoy your blog like so many others and if people can’t handle honesty then read another site

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  10. Teddy, firstly, thank you for sharing your story for there is great healing in telling the truth. This post reminds me of some of my own journey – or perhaps I should say the process of reconciling the past I ‘prefer to remember having’ vs the past I actually had. And in truth, there are many pieces of my past that won’t reconcile – nor do I expect all have in your story. But I have found great comfort and peace in knowing that throughout it all, I was never completely alone, for even when I didn’t recognize the voice of Hope, Hope was still with me. And now I know that Hope has a face, and a Name, and my faith in Him influences every part of my life and has completely transformed me. I pray the same for you and look forward to following along in your journey. If I can be of any help, please let me know.

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