I am in the beginning stages of looking for funding, script writers and contacts with the intent of having a movie made of my life story
More to come……..
I am in the beginning stages of looking for funding, script writers and contacts with the intent of having a movie made of my life story
More to come……..
They had me pegged, my family and the HOUSTON CLAN before even getting to know me to justify what they intended to do so they didn’t have to look at themselves.
I have talked about them. But, now I will talk about me.
I never found a home and never found comfort in an identity that was not molded by perpetrators, the ones that did me harm and the ones that turned their backs on the “lost and forgotten child”. I have flipped through my life like the pages in a book, trying to make sense of it. To uncover the secrets that have gone buried in shame and hidden even from myself for so long. Asking myself over and over what does this all mean.
I know how my story ends but the question for me has been “how did it happen; how did I get here?” For so long I got immersed in the jumble of words like “Louise, what is the matter with you. don’t play victim, get on with it, leave the past behind you, you are too sensitive.”
What kind of story is mine – a lost and forgotten child, the one that everyone told me I was – lazy, stupid, a problem. Am I just a pathetic character who is just a victim to my own stupidity? Or is there something else going on here. I have flipped back and forth through time looking for the clues to why my journey took me down a certain path and shattered me into little pieces. A path of loneliness, loss, poverty and victimization. Oh, I know my pictures of me tell you a different story. But what you don’t see is the pain just beneath the surface. The part of me that hides and only shows it’s face when I can give you what you want to see, or the face I need you to see. The perfect picture, the one that I got so good at looking “right”. I hid the broken and sick me. You don’t want to see the pain that left me with scars from abuse, molestation, poverty and isolation. I fear now it’s too late for me, my life is over. There is no time left to repair the damage done.
No one asked me, “Louise what do you want to be when you grow-up”, no one directed me to become the best I could be. I never got my balance and only focused on my flaws which of course had me spinning in circles. The fire that barely flickered over the years is now dimming. I am who I am, for better or worse. It’s too late to wonder about the person I will become. I have told the world about who I am, but it doesn’t matter any more because everyone had already made up their minds. Their agenda was to discredit me, shut me up and close me down. GASLIGHTING was what it was. Protecting the agenda of those who needed to keep their squeaky-clean reputations, of being the do-gooders, the stellar members of society, the perpetrators/abusers behind the masks. They don’t want you speaking their dirty little secrets. You see the people who have hurt me know I saw through them, I know who they are. I have had too much experience with the likes of them to not see behind their masks and it scared them.
I became someone I didn’t know either to keep others happy and safe and when I couldn’t pretend I hid. Now and then I said, “Enough is Enough”, hence this blog because there is just so much a person can take. I would rock the boat from time to time and then slither back into silence which just fed into their ignorance of who I am, it gave them fuel to say, “look I told you so, she is an evil one”. They them scrambled to make sure no one believed me. Of course they had a platform, a voice to be heard and I did not. They won. I can’t. I’m done.
I have read so many peoples blogs over the last couple of years and know there are so many people like me. People who got used and abused and had no voice. The internet came along and gave us one. But oh there are so many mean ones out there too who would like to shut us down. Don’t show us who we are, don’t let the world see how mean we can be. We will take you, abuse you and shut you up and knock you down. Be quiet Louise, and all the Louise’s out there.
But, we wont. We write our blogs for us. We need a voice, we need to have our words heard and the rest of you can shut up or don’t read.
It’s too late for me. But I say to all the VICTIMS of the mean and abusive people keep talking.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN
Gaslighting is the attempt of one person to overwrite another person’s reality.
“Gaslighting is a form of emotional abuse where the abuser manipulates situations repeatedly to trick the victim into distrusting his or her own memory and perceptions. Gaslighting is an insidious form of abuse. It makes victims question the very instincts that they have counted on their whole lives, making them unsure of anything. Gaslighting makes it very likely that victims will believe whatever their abusers tell them regardless as to their own experience of the situation. Gaslighting often precedes other types of emotional and physical abuse because the victim of gaslighting is more likely to remain in other abusive situations as well.
The term “gaslighting” comes from the 1938 British play “Gas Light” wherein a husband attempts to drive his wife crazy using a variety of tricks causing her to question her own perceptions and sanity. Gas Light was made into a movie both in 1940 and 1944.” from Healthy Place.
PLEASE STOP SHAMING THE VICTIM
This one is very close to me. I know this one to the depths of my soul. I have been shamed, blamed, embarrassed and humiliated by ignorant people who will not take responsibility for their own actions. What is interesting about the “president elect” is he is showing this to the world, we can see how these people, the “blamers” work, They are deflecting accountability. There is nothing worse or more dangerous than a person who has lots to hide and who insists on controlling everything. When they can no longer do that and keep everyone quiet they go on the attack. I know, believe me, I am the victim. My name is VICTIM. i am not a crazy person, I am not a lying person, I am not a narcissist. I am a victim. If you can’t be accountable and you wont speak that truth *point your finger* I have had those kind of fingers pointed at me all my life by narcissists and sociopaths. I can only imagine how angry they must be with me right now. SHUT UP LOUISE! I say back “point that finger.
I know those “flying monkeys” now. I have lived so much of my life not understanding what was going on around me. Why am I being run down, abused, lied about, ignored, isolated, used as scapegoat to find out “all” the truth now in my middle age+ time of my life. I feel like my life has been wasted and used by these evil people, the narcissists of my family and extended family who elicited the support of the weak and vulnerable, like my mother, to bid their will. In the last 5 years of my mother’s life we figured it all out and it pissed of Dr. James and his little gang of “flying monkeys”.
“Attitude Is Everything
We live in a culture that is blind to betrayal and intolerant of emotional pain. In New Age crowds here on the West Coast, where your attitude is considered the sole determinant of the impact an event has on you, it gets even worse.In these New Thought circles, no matter what happens to you, it is assumed that you have created your own reality. Not only have you chosen the event, no matter how horrible, for your personal growth. You also chose how you interpret what happened—as if there are no interpersonal facts, only interpretations.
The upshot of this perspective is that your suffering would vanish if only you adopted a more evolved perspective and stopped feeling aggrieved. I was often kindly reminded (and believed it myself), “there are no victims.” How can you be a victim when you are responsible for your circumstances?
When you most need validation and support to get through the worst pain of your life, to be confronted with the well-meaning, but quasi-religious fervor of these insidious half-truths can be deeply demoralizing. This kind of advice feeds guilt and shame, inhibits grieving, encourages grandiosity and can drive you to be alone to shield your vulnerability.”
― Sandra Lee Dennis
I have had issues with my “immune system” for a lot of my life.Not surprising.
I have been told many times “just get over it”, stop living in the past. When I saw this it validated me. It gave me the words to explain how I feel about doing this blog and talking about my past and what I am trying to accomplish
After I brought my mother over to Vancouver to live with me in 2011 this little old lady was in enormous stress and distress as a result of the HOUSTON CLANS evisceration of her and myself.This pain she was in was literally killing her, slowly. In fact 2 years later when she was 92 she did kill herself because she couldn’t take it any more.
From the time I arrived back in her life in 2005 I did everything in my power to love her, assist her and attempt to spare her as much pain as possible.
One day my mother’s lawyer, Jack Adelaar, phoned me and asked that I go over to his office and read through some documents sent over to him by the HOUSTON CLAN’S lawyer, Sarah Klinger. I said I would go over to his office with my mother. He said No he preferred not for he was concerned it would upset her too much. I so I arrived at his office alone albeit my mother was aware of what I was doing.
When I arrived Mr.Adelaar ushered me into a small office where there was a pile of these documents. He left me with them with a pad of paper to make any notes.
I started to read these documents such as affidavits etc. My name was on just about every single page. You see I was the scapegoat and fall guy to their greed. What I read was shocking to me, and would be to anyone. I read lie upon lie upon lie of the most vicious short. All my mother lawyers, seasoned experienced lawyers, said they had never seen such cruelty and viciousness in their careers.
Please remember that in the over 34 years of our parents marriage I had not had any real conversation with any of the HOUSTON CLAN, beyond pleasantries.
They said the most unimaginable, vicious, CRUEL things that were made up by very distorted and nasty greedy minds, the HOUSTON CLAN. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I do not have a propensity for tears and emotions. I have a tendency to keep it to myself. But I sat there and broke down and cried like I rarely have in my life. Mr. Adelaar came in and was completely unable to settle me. I had to leave. I went into a state of trauma that I have not pulled myself out of since.
But, I was full-time caregiver to this now very fragile and traumatized old lady, my mother. I had to keep myself together. I did until the day she died from killing herself where I collapsed, broke my foot as I imploded to the ground.
For the past 3 years since she died I believe I have been in a virtual coma. Of course it is trauma. This episode of trauma has almost taken me out and ultimately will.
After my mother killed herself I think I just froze. It has taken me a lifetime to unravel what has happened to me.
I was abused and molested and left to care for myself at age 13. And by those same people who were supposed to love and protect me turned on me and bad mouthed me, humiliated me and drove me into further isolation.
In 2007 I made contact once again with my mother, expecting that she would reject me once again. This time she did not. However, we slowly and carefully reunited and re-built a good relationship. It was obvious to me that my mother’s step-children did not want this to take place and started to do things to undermine our growing re-connection. At no point did they attempt to support this reunion, except for my mother’s husband (their father) Dr. Bob. Although he was not in any way responsible for our reunion the HOUSTON CLAN swore in court that it was Dr. Bob had facilitated our reunion. That is a complete lie.
After decades of hard work on myself I reentered my mothers life and after a very long absence from seeing one another at all, because I felt I was strong enough and mature enough to make the decision to not allow any confrontation and upset to happen ever again. I knew that likely she would talk about what had happened to her vis-a-vis my father and brothers behavior toward her but was sure she would not want to hear me. I settled on never bringing anything up and never did. If we talked about the past it was on her instigation.
When her step-children launched a fight to get my mother’s money from her, and using me as their tool and scapegoat I was shocked. Most of the time I had no idea what they were talking about. They made up the most extraordinary stories. It devastated me. But my job, as far as I was concerned, was to take care of my mother. The case called HOUSTON versus HOUSTON was between my mother and her step-children and although I was used and abused to get the money I was unable to defend myself. I listened to what they had to say and read document after document of lies and was unable to do anything about it. So when my mother died I just imploded. I literally collapsed. All the pain of those few years just took me out.
All I have wanted over the last 3 years is die. I have thought about it every single day. I have no idea why or how this happened and it has only been since I launched this site and my google+ page that I have slowly started to learn. It is thanks to the internet and all my fellow blogger that I have learnt what narcissists/sociopaths can do to a life. What these people have done to my life. I often wonder what my life would have been like had I not been the victim of such terrible abuse by my family and extended family.
I am very tired now and although I feel I am, at long last, seeing all the pieces fit together I find no comfort. People say just leave the past behind. Oh, I so wish I could. I know nothing will change. It is what it is. Where do I put all this information. I am 50+ it feels too late for me to build a happy life, I don’t think it is possible.
I wish I could find a way of forgiving the HOUSTON CLAN for their ignorance, selfishness and greed but I just don’t know that I can. The repercussions to their greed did such extraordinary damage that can never be taken back. I know that “karma” will take care of them. They have grown children so when they are fragile and old (not too far away) perhaps they will need to worry about the lessons they have taught them.
When my mother decided to kill herself I was caring for her. We loved each other very deeply and had long long before reconciled and forgave each other. We had these last few years together and despite the horrible case of HOUSTON versus HOUSTON where my mother’s step-children took action against her to take her money from her we thrived in our relationship together. A huge portion of my mother’s money was taken from her by these greedy step-children and most of the rest went to the lawyers. I do want to remind everyone that during the over 34 years of our parents marriage my mother paid for 3/4 of the bills over the years. Along with having paid her husband debts at the time of their marriage.In the last couple of years of her life I had to contribute towards the payment of her bills.
Five hours before my mother died I collapsed and broke my foot. I was so tired and so stress and ignoring a bladder infection my body just gave out. I had to go to the hospital and while I was gone she died. The worst day of my life.
In the past 3 years since her death I have been left with a whole lot to digest and understand. It has taken me to the brink of killing myself too.
“If some man were to say to your daughter: ‘Here’s the deal, sweetie. For several months or so, I’m going to pretend to be everything you ever wanted. I’ll shower you with attention, affection and all manner of stuff to make you feel special. Then, once I know you’re depending on me as your significant other, and have made a commitment, I’m going to quit pretending and be who I really am. I’m going to start treating you really badly. I’ll say insensitive things, I’ll lie, I’ll cheat, I’ll be really cruel, possibly humiliate you in public. Hey, I might even beat you. Your job will be to figure out what happened and do everything in your power to restore the relationship to what it was, until you either die, try to kill yourself, or collapse and get sent to the hospital, which will be pretty funny because there’s no chance whatsoever I’ll ever pretend to be that ‘nice guy’ again—and by the way, it WAS a pretense. So what do you say, sweetie? Do we have a deal? Several years of hell in exchange for a few months of fantasy. If your daughter whipped out the pen to ink the deal, you’d smack her and say, ‘What are you, NUTS? This guy’s a lunatic!!!’ Right? But that IS the deal. That is the contract. If that contract wouldn’t be nearly good enough for your daughter, why would it be good enough for you?” anonymous
Know one wouldn’t want this on anyone let alone your child, right. Now, what if you are the child and you are trapped, this is your father, another narcissist. You know this is not right and something is seriously wrong with this kind of behavior. But you are small, you have no frame of reference and no one to talk to. Now you add to the mix a brother who has molested you too and is incapable of compassion. And a mother who has just checked out.
You are beholden to a man who has no concept of truth. Loves to play with your head, that really gave him pleasure. Loved to embarrass me, another good game for him. But despite the fact that I was essentially a passive pleaser of a child I had something in me, I don’t know what to call it. Some called it belligerence. That came from the people who were in “cover-up mode”. I call it “a sense of right and wrong”. I would speak up sometimes albeit I was scared to death. Did it get me anywhere, NO of course not.
“The narcissist naturally gravitates towards those professions which guarantee the abundant and uninterrupted provision of Narcissistic Supply. He seeks to interact with people from a position of authority, advantage, or superiority. He thus elicits their automatic admiration, adulation, and affirmation – or, failing that, their fear and obedience.
Several vocations meet these requirements: teaching, the clergy, show business, corporate management, the medical professions, the military, law enforcement agencies, politics, and sports. It is safe to predict that narcissists would be over-represented in these occupations.
The cerebral narcissist is likely to emphasize his intellectual prowess and accomplishments (real and imaginary) in an attempt to solicit supply from awe-struck students, devoted parishioners, admiring voters, obsequious subordinates, or dependent patients.” by Dr. Sam Vaknin
In the case of HOUSTON vs.HOUSTON I feel strongly that what I experienced was narcissism in motion. The impetus behind the tragedy I experienced and live with today. Things went wrong the minute I refused to comply with the HOUSTON CLAN’S agenda. When I refused to kiss the feet of these arrogant people they came at me with a vengeance. Their money, power and gravitas gave them the means to do that.
I have been blogging now for a couple of years, off and on. I started attempting to put my thoughts to words. The written word has always been very difficult for me being dyslexic. I would do better with the spoken word. I felt that putting it down would help me understand what has happened to me. I also, felt it was a way of defending myself and setting the record straight with self awareness as a bonus.
The one person and issue that is outstanding is that of my mother. It is very difficult for me to understand her role and how I was impacted by her. I have always thought my mother was basically a decent person who had been damaged by her marriage to my father, a narcissist/psychopath, with one as a son also. That certainly has made sense to me. But I have never been able to get my head around the fact that she left my father (or they divorced) and there didn’t seem to be a place for me in her life. She went on with it and had a few boyfriends, then met her husband Dr. Bob Houston, in Victoria Canada. Dr. Bob had 4 children who were just adults when they married and her life revolved around all of them. She had no understanding of me or what I was going through. I always felt she was the kind of person who was just unable to see what was happening for someone else, but boy did she squeal when she was hurt. I decided at some point I would stay away from her life. She was doing okay without me. At no point did she attempt to contact me, ever. I believe now with what I do know is she stayed away from me, and tried to keep me away, so she didn’t have to see the face of a daughter damaged on her watch.
I tried on a couple of occasions to reconnect with her but she didn’t seem to want to, so I stayed away. But then in 2005 I wrote to her and we then slowly reconnected and I reentered her life in 2007.
After the death of her husband and a court case with his children, over my mother’s money, she came to Vancouver to live with me. I cared for her until the day she died. She had said to me about 6 months before she died that she wanted to die and would starve herself to death, she did. I was by her side the whole time. With the knowledge that her doctor and her lawyer were fully aware of her decision. We respected her right to self determination. She set the date and stuck to it. I fed her homemade vegetable soup, and she enjoyed it, but the next morning she had stopped eating and never ate again. She shriveled up to nothing and took 14 days to die.
She shared with me in those last few months her guilt over me and how she felt responsible for what her step-children did to me and how they degraded and humiliated me. This is the first I had ever heard her even suggest she was partly responsible. She had always felt she played no role whatsoever. This certainly was one of the reasons I stayed away. I was angry with her for having watched the abuse of my father and brother on me and swore up and down she did not know. She did know and did nothing.
The question I have for myself is, who was she. Was she a damaged woman like myself, was she too a narcissist? She watched her child be abused by my father my brother my cousin and the HOUSTON CLAN and she did nothing. It is all very well to cry and admit culpability when you are 92 years old……
I show this picture of me from time to time. I actually don’t have many childhood pictures. Nevertheless this is a good one for me to remember. To remember that day after being assaulted by my father. I wet my pants and was crying, but my father insisted on taking my picture and yelled at me to “smile”. I then went back to boarding school after he dropped me off from vacation. I walked into school with wet stinky pants. Little did I know then that it wouldn’t be very long before I was living on the other side of the world. To then leave the family house to live on the streets of Toronto. I was 13 years old. I was alone, scared and very very vulnerable. I grew up very fast. When you are young and strong, when you have to, when people want you because now you are a beautiful child/woman. When you are smart beyond your years (but terrible in school, now know I was dyslexic) When you have your fathers charm and fast wit you get by. But as the years role by and you and dying inside life starts to take on a different perspective. You know something is wrong with you. You know somehow that you are not supposed to feel this bad inside, like a rotting carcass of a woman. But when you try to seek out help, what I realize now, was a medical system that was clueless and ended up making me worse. It’s like being operating on the wrong foot, So it gets further reinforced in your brain that you are defective, crazy and irredeemable. I kinda new I wasn’t but with the help of those who were supposed to love me I got banished into a life of confusion and further despair.
LEARNING TO MOVE ON THE BEST YOU CAN
In some ways I turned into my father. attractive, charming, well-spoken with very little formal education but smart (and street smart) but there was a difference. I could not be like him – I had empathy, compassion and sensitivity – god damn these feelings they just messed me up more. Feeling was not what I wanted……more and more feelings. Why did I have to feel. Feeling in this world is an impediment.
So what do you do. You learn to have your feelings, but you have to learn to control them. I know from experience you can’t control them if you do not understand them in the first place. Only on understanding can you control them if you will, but more importantly live with them. It helps to accept they will not go away. These bad feelings live inside you and have for a long time. Give your bad feelings a healthy outlet – creativity of some sort is a good idea. I have this page and my blog. Accept the fact that this pain is part of you and has molded you for good or bad (you must take some responsibility for that) Sometimes having this pain inside me helps me and makes me a better person. I am a very grateful person because of what I had to go through. I have learnt forgiveness. If you don’t you will suffer even
As hard as I try to leave this past behind, it haunts me. The memories never go away. I had become reasonably at peace with my past until the attack I experienced by the HOUSTON CLAN in the case of HOUSTON versus HOUSTON. I think about the cruelty of the HOUSTON CLAN and how my mother killed herself because of what they did to her, her husband (my mother’s husband) and me. My mother and step-father are gone, and I am left to live with this pain.