If you believe in immaculate conceptions, you will be misled as this is not that kind of story.
In a rural part of the province of Nova Scotia, there was a sixteen-year-old girl, named Patti, Patti lived at home with her parents as all children do, especially in the mid 1970’s. As the youngest child of nine, it was customary for her to hang out with her sisters, Lilly, and Lizabeth, along with her brothers, Willie, Peter, Matthew, and Mikey. As all teenagers do, she and her sisters began to rebel against their parents and started hanging out with boys in town, drinking, smoking and not listening to their parents as to what they should be doing for young ladies their age. With the girls not listening and doing what they wanted, when they wanted, and sometimes it got them into trouble, however, despite Patti’s older brother Matthew trying to protect and keep his sisters out of trouble, Patti ended up meeting a good looking dare-devilish older man from around the block, she and Robert began courting one another and hanging out, soon she introduced him to her family, immediately, they did not approve of him as they were told of stories of him and his family and did not want their youngest daughter to be hanging around “the likes of him.”
Being born into and growing up in a loveless home was difficult for me. Being the middle child of three with an older brother and a younger sister, I always felt as though I needed to work extra harder to seek any type of approval; whether it was for affection, attention or just to be heard. After speaking to many middle children, I know I am not alone in the way I was/am feeling.
I remember receiving spankings because I was unhappy, sad, or simply crying and being told “if you want to cry, I’ll give you a reason to cry,” then remembering a leather belt being ripped from my father’s belt loops, being grabbed by one arm and spanked repeatedly with the other. This would go on for 10+ whacks, sometime more. I was lucky if I only gotten 10 whacks with a belt prior to bed.
There is definitely something to be said about doing mean things to someone and then pretending that you are the victim. There are reasons why you do what you do then deflect the pain onto someone else. These actions are called being a "narcissist." When a narcissist plays the victim, this is part of the complexity of narcissistic personality disorder. The tendency to have low introspection combined with an exaggerated sense of superiority may leave them unable to see the situation in a way that doesn't fit their worldview. As a result, they may “play the victim” in some scenarios.
When you do horrible things to others, then blame them for the outcome this reflects you and how you live your life. Taking ownership of one's actions and suffering the consequences of said actions is a part of life. In some cases, your consequences are that you need to live your life away from the person you most need, even if they are the best part of you, or someone you most want to be with in the world but cannot be due to your actions. What if your actions to this person were so despicable you can never recover?
After being tormented, abused and made fun of your entire life, and being told that a loved one was entering the same cycle, he decided that he was the only one to step-in and help. In March of 2004, shortly after returning from a trip down south, a telephone call was received informing him that his nephew was being going to be removed from his parent's house yet again (for the third and final time) by the department of community services. The department of community services was looking for someone in the family to care for this child, and if this child did not receive some care in his day-to-day living, he would be going to foster care. Being shocked and surprised that no one in his family was willing and able to help this little boy from this miserable lifestyle and remembering everything that he went through as a child, how all of his parents’ friends and family knew of his abuse, and that no one did anything about this, he knew that he needed to help in any way he could.
The grandmother of this child wanted nothing to do with him at the age of five (due to what she believed was his dangerous behaviours), and although his grandfather and nanny loved him very dearly, they were not of an age or financially capable of caring for a five-year-old boy long term. The way the story was told, due to the child being removed several times already, on Monday morning social services were apprehending the child for the fifth and last time. If something was going to be done, it needed to be done immediately.
Growing up, my mother and I didn't have a typical mother and son relationship. When I was a baby, she was very abusive and neglectful to me, she would barely hold or change me, she would just let me cry, cry and cry, it was my understanding that family members needed to do it, or if she did console me, it was very irregularly. I have been that my family members, such as my father’s mother, father’s sister, or my mother’s mother did most of my care as baby. This type of pattern continued through to my adolescent years.
I had also been made aware that if my mother’s father would not have passed away when I was one year old, my life would be very different today. It was told to me that my mother’s mother and father took care of me regularly, I was my grandfather’s favorite. There were a lot of stories being told about he and I eating cheezies, and him getting up with me in the mornings to let my grandmother sleep-in when I needed changing or was fussy. These are the stories I love to hear, the stories I keep close to my heart.