My parents used to do drugs sometimes. They both smoked pot, which isn't really bad in itself, but they did it constantly. Dad experimented with heroin and opium, and both of them snorted coke once in a while. They were both paranoid by nature, and I think the drugs made them more paranoid. Keep in mind, neither parent was a full-time junkie. Dad was just an alcoholic who did hard drugs on occasion for fun, and Mom was a stupid, sleezy pothead who thought it was cool to be stoned most of the time. They grew their own pot, but bought their harder drugs from people they should have never trusted. Several times during the 90s, Dad wound up owing his dealers money, which he could not pay back. He and Mom became afraid that their dealers could kill them for owing money. They told my brothers and I their fears, even though we were all less than ten years old at the time. They told us that if we ever saw any strangers come around our house (which was in a fairly secluded, rural, forested area) that we were to lead them away from our house - and them. They told us that the people might shoot or stab us to death, but if we died protecting them (our parents), we would granted a place in heaven.
Mom was way worse about this than Dad. These are the literal words she used: ''You three kids are to lay down your life for me, if anything happens. If anyone tries to hurt your mother, you are you die before they get to me.'' I can't tell you how much all this scared me, growing up. My brothers used to actually puff up with pride at the thought of dying for our parents - they started acting like bodyguards from a young age. That mentality never really left them. But I didn't want to die for the horrible people who physically, emotionally, and sexually abused me every day.
My parents' fear of being murdered for whatever reason (because of owing money, or whatever) never left them. They divorced when I was 12. Mom stayed in the derelict cabin we grew up in, while Dad moved into his own apartment, in a slum across town. I lived in both places at different times. When Mom abused me too badly, I would run to live with Dad. When he abused me too badly, I would run back to Mom. Both my parents would force me to sleep in the same beds as them, even into my teens. I later found out this was because they were afraid of being attacked at night, afraid of their houses being broken into, and they wanted me close by to protect them at the first sign of trouble.
I remained their unwilling guard until my late teens, when I ran away. Especially for Mom. Accompanying her everywhere she went if I wasn't at school or work, and sometimes having to skip school or work to escort her somewhere. In about 2006, Dad moved back into the cabin, and she moved into her own house in a different slum in a different part of town. Crime was common there. She used to like to walk laps for exercise on the large track outside the elementary school she worked at. She only had time to do this at night, and always forced me to go with her. Once, a huge, tall guy, built like a refrigerator on legs, came bursting out of the trees, off the path, a few yards in front of us. Mom screamed, because she thought the guy might attack us. She shoved me at him as hard as she could, so hard that I fell onto the pavement - and ran all the way back home without stopping.
The guy didn't attack me. He didn't say anything to me either, just looked confused and plodded away.
Those aren't the only times my parents forced us to go to great lengths to protect them at all costs. They told us that was what we were for. They raised my brothers and I like guard dogs, even whipping us and abusing us to make us tougher.
Anyone have similar stories? Sorry about the wall of text, but I was awake all night with flashbacks about this.
Submitted January 04, 2018 at 05:16PM by RHRam http://ift.tt/2CAJfXr raisedbynarcissists
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