To The Narcissists of the Planet: A Few Words about Domestic Abuse and the outcome you do not expect.

This is being written on behalf of everyone, specifically women and girls, whose lives have been marred by the effects of someone elseʻs tiny sense of self and overblown idea of themselves

This is not another scathing tirade that I am choosing to go on, but rather and more truly a quietly observant one, if it can be called that (which I am sure it will be that by the time this is done being written, seeing as how this is one of those articles that is really, really personal for me) .

Those days and that energy is gone, as will be the moron who thinks it is funny to say, do, and say he will do things that will hurt other people.

While it was that just a few short years ago I might be that person who would do anything at all to just not have to deal with this guy anymore, or for that matter, the way in which I handle him now (I donʻt and if I do it is a phone call to PD that typically sets the balance back to what it is meant to be…please keep reading…) and is the complete opposite way that I did it before in the past, which was to eliminate the possibility of a fight.

I am no longer open to others being shitty to me, and more, to my only daughter, Grace. Because this is the truth, it is no wonder why her father is being horrible to her.

The fight, I find, is what may be needed, for the simple idea that without it, this guy and guys like him have no clue when the bullshit stops for us and on our end.

They wonʻt know that it has stopped because we will have changed the energy that would cause them to continue to believe that they have any kind of control over us at all and wonʻt be able to see it because they are only interested in making certain that the world feels their pain. To rid themselves of their own self-made pain, they bully others to the point of mental issues, which is what happened to both Gracie and I, but, is something that everyday, we are healing ourselves from being enslaved by. I had no idea that when I married her dad, that he would think that I was like a pet or a fucking charm bracelet.

And when that pet got out of line or that bracelet was not exactly together as much as he felt it should be, I got belittled, got berated, got “beat the shit out of.”

That is not what we were each and all born for – to be victimized, everyday of our lives, because someone else is horribly unhappy with their own selves and have likely always been.

Sometimes, it is the fight that actually kills the demon, because in my case and in this instance, the thing that I know will kill the demon is Love, for my daughter, my sons, my parents, my Self and the very many kids who frequent this house on the daily basis and who, themselves, some of them come from homes like mine where the dad is insane with his own perception of power and greatness and that the family does not see.

This is what is called a narcissist, and always abusers are narcissists – always. 

Always they are there to remind you of how they feel about themselves, and always they are there to tell us about their inner life and how ugly it is, all the way down to the very bones of their sorry ass souls. Abusers will always try to make their temporary pain something that you caused for them, because you refused to take their shit anymore. Abusers will always have a reason as to why they are behaving like a spoiled child who is going to behave like a petulant jackass until someone finally pacifies them. That has not been me for a long while, this pacifist, and it will not ever be my daughter. I did not bring her into this world so that her father could abuse the shit out of me for years, only to do the same thing to her.

I do not stand for it.

She does not stand for it. 

That bastard has no clue what he stands for, other than making people miserable, and really, there is no more misery that needs to happen here. She is strong and resilient, much like her mother, and she is wise beyond her years…again…like me.

I taught her well, and she is not letting me down, in any manner, not even when she is a shrieking mess of a little girl, the same little girl that he knows he can make come out of the closet of her dad not truly being the one who has her back. While I might not agree with my own father, I do know, now, that this man has always had my back – he would have to, because in terms of who I am, and how much I do not take shit from any motherfucker, I am Daddyʻs girl, hands down. There is a reason why the man has referred to me, on more than one occasion, as being his “weapon of mass biological destruction” and it was said because yeah – I am bad ass, I figured out, and this makes my only daughter equally as bad ass – she still has work to do, is only 19 but still…

…she IS MY daughter…

…and I am taking full credit for her, taking on the role of single mom to my now legally adult daughter who everyday surprises me by her will power and her strength, strength that she would not have without my example. Sure, she might fall apart, but, what girl wouldnʻt if her father wrecked her birthday three years in a row, called her a fat whore and and then proceeded to pick on her friends – all because they would not do for him what he demands out of them, as if they do not have the right to tell him or anyone else “no”?

They are, she is, we all will continue to tell this person to go to hell.

What kind of sick person decides that, since it is that she does not agree with him, that the reason why he would call her names and think that we are just going to kiss his ass that somehow, we are going to get over it fast and that we are just going to do what he wants?

Oh..I know…a guy named John .

Typically, I wonʻt name names, but this time, for the sake of the idea that I know that there are several law enforcement officers on my Linkedin profile who are reading this, and since I know that also there in that site are plenty of people in the wheel and tire industry who will read this and think to themselves that eventually and one day, the world might actually have a true glimpse of this person who might also have been awful to them, and not continue to have to talk behind his back because many believe he still deserves that respect of his own abusive sins to not be made public….or perhaps because you are all too afraid of what he might do. I have no idea why that you would be that way – he is not what he presented himself as, and the only thing that comes to mind is not even the idea that you gotta keep protocol, but that you really do not care at all.

Donʻt get me wrong -I expect only that those in law enforcement from here to wherever will, from my own observation and experience and now watching this person do to her what he did to me and to see her not take his crap – you guys might get a real glimpse as to what it is that no one wants to deal with, or perhaps thinks is simply not too big a deal.

I promise, all of you, it is a huge deal, and the more that this happens, to whoever it happens to and whenever it does, and each time that you guys get a phone call about what to do about abusers, you might remember this writing and take it to heart because really, I am that research scientist in all things “mind” and “thought” and “jacked up abusive thinking”.

…I am that scientist who can tell you from experience that more – MUCH MORE – ought to be done, but that is neither here nor there at this moment in time.

Just please… please, please, please keep reading this. It is one of those important things that can become somewhat of a reference for anyone who has never been there themselves and then have to watch their only daughter in the fight of her young life in terms of who she is and how she feels about herself.

Let it be well known, right this moment, that when an only daughter chooses to refer to her father, in his face, after he has called her a fat whore, as being a bitch-ass, she means it and more than that – she is right, and it is no oneʻs business to tell her that she has to respect him by right of his being her sperm donor – I have this to say to you…the hell if she does. She is fighting for who she is to someone who does not know who he is and neither his own truth because that is the other thing about abusers – not only are they narcissists, they are also bitterly scared of looking like a fool again. They donʻt mind failing because the reason that they fail is because someone else made it that way, throughout the course of their lives, by handing them everything they wanted (it is called being a spoiled brat who has to have their way).

Hard work doesnʻt count when the job was handed to you by someone who you could easily manipulate.

In Johnʻs case, that person who he bullied was his primary bully and the very one who started it all, and really I do not care about who thinks it is wrong or bad that I out that whole lot of them….the late John Sr and both of his abusive sons….BOTH John Jr. and Steven, and no I do not care which, if any, of their own blood relations like what they are reading. For years I begged his family to help me, and no one would. You all just sort of chalked it up to my needing the help because I wanted to make him happy.

No

I didnʻt.

I wanted help paying bills that he refused to pay because his own abusive father chose to short him on his paycheck (that typically bounced). That Sr. did that is one thing, but that John chose to have a “ghetto rich” lifestyle is none of my doing – I never bought into the idea that a person waits til the last moment a bill is due, and really, I cannot figure out how the hell it is that a man decides that he is somehow the most important person on this planet, even after the idea that he is the reason – him and his habits and his lifestyle – THOSE ARE THE REASONS…not me and my only daughter as to why it is that he is penniless and about to be gone from our lives very, very soon.

I blame all those people who never ever helped me get out of this issue, knowing what I was going through and you still ignored my tears, my anger, my absolute fear of this man, for a long time. You guys did nothing, letting me and these kids swelter in the emotional hell of abuse, for years, only asking me if I was okay.

No I was not.

In fact, I am not, and neither is Jeremy, or Gracie, or Joshua…but, we are going to be okay, once I have, once and for all, rid us all of his ass – via restraining order.

To hell with this, to hell with him, and to hell with anyone who is reading this and doesnʻt like what you are reading – This is the truth, and the scathing truth at that.

When you are by yourself in what seems like an ocean of despair you will do what you have to in order to keep your children from harm and in my case the only thing that I could do was to literally stand in the way of his physical abuse so that nothing would happen to them. He denies this, but those kids saw it, all of it.

And what they now know of family is that at least their motherʻs family gives a shit, and at least their motherʻs other half also gives a shit and at least other people who share a last name with me but also like me are only that way because they made the mistake of trusting someone who they might have thought had their best interest at heart had anything but that gives a shit (hey Misty)….you all can also go to hell, because instead of helping me to get out of this issue and instead of helping me hide – you ignored me, and this goes of some of my family too – you all had a great time gossiping, acting like it was somehow easy to leave something that you had never seen before and something that you saw and had a glimpse of being right ….marriage….

The people who I saw my whole life stayed married, no matter what, and that was my only sin – that because I saw what it looked like, I wanted it to look like that, too, and well, it appeared that way, but was anything at all like those unions appeared as being. It was not long before, during that time in my life, I knew the truth about it all – theyʻd been lying to me all along, telling me through their actions that they were happily entwined only to know for real that they were keeping up appearances.

I feel like it was me and a few of my girl cousins on both sides of my family who were the very ones who were to bring this lesson to all of you – do not stand there judging us as though what we are or have been through is somehow your way of being above us because you felt sorry for us. We are not those types of women who anyone ought to feel sorry for and the reason we were abused is because we do no harm but we also take no shit.

It was and will always be the “take no shit” part that we live by. It is our creed – stand up, stand firm and donʻt let anyone tell you who you are. 

I am only now becoming more that way and while it is that I would not be this version of me (the one that my guy now canʻt seem to stop saying lots and lots of beautiful things about) without all of that bullshit, and while it is that I would not be all the brainiac that I am now (and neither my daughter the bad ass makeup artist that she is absolutely becoming these days…) it would have been good for me to know, back then, that someone cared, and someone felt like my time and my life were worth the shit that lots of those people who also swore that they loved me might have actually done things to make me know it and no, I am not talking to or about my cousins who took me in when I had two black eyes and a need to cover a deep bite mark with a tat – I know who loves me, and who has always had my back.

It ainʻt any of those people whose lives appeared lovely, as much as that is what you wanted anyone to believe. I know the reality of an abuser, and it doesnʻt matter that you donʻt want to believe it but, lots and lots of us were abused, with impunity and glee, even, as they who abused made an excuse and referred to the whole idea that it is okay to “hit first and ask questions later.” 

I think not.

The only people on this planet who he might do anything to are me and Gracie – he fears men, secretly, because he ainʻt nothinʻ to sweat and he knows this much very, very well – just another wannabe italian prick who thinks by right of what he has thought of himself as – some sort of mafia gangster (whatever…gotta have some balls in order to be that and on that end, I am called “gangsta” all the time  – you gotta earn it, and no bully is ever going to be what I am – brave, bad-ass, smart and taking no oneʻs shit…better known as GANGSTA….I said it, and you know it, so deal with it- you canʻt be what you have not earned being, and in my exʻs case, my Gracie is right…bitch-ass is what any abuser is…) .

To all of you who are reading this and confused as to the idea of what you are reading here – let it be well known, as of this moment, that if you feel like you have been through what you have read here, and if you go through this regularly, you are currently going through what is known as being psychological and emotional abuse. I have gone through it for years, because the culture from which I hail, even as I love my culture, is not without its ugliness. In this instance, it is the fact that a lot of women in Hawaii and abroad who are of Hawaiian ancestry are like me and Grace – statistics of abuse.

I used to hate that it is like this but these days, by right of the idea that I am surviving and becoming a conqueror of this madness, I wear my “formerly abused” self on my sleeve.

My Formerly Abused Self –

…the Wahine Warrior that I have Become…that Gracie is on her way to becoming, that we ought to all aspire to being, on our own and by right of who we each and all truly are within….

I no longer buy the idea that in order for me to be someone of worth that I have to cower to my own or anyone elseʻs demons.

If what you have read appears to be very similar to something that you are going through now, feel free to contact me. I might not have all of the answers, but, I know that I know how you feel, and I know, too, what you have to do in order to not feel the way you do and know the way to get yourself through all of this.

It is called belief in oneʻs own self, and a belief in everything that is loving and good and kind and a belief that for everything that is painful and that we are not able to get rid of as fast as we know we would be able to get other things done, that these things are called lessons and you are the star student.  It is nothing more than the idea that at one time in our souls, we wanted to know who we are for real, and because of this, we had to be shown who we are not. When we found out who we are not, we also found out that there is something intrinsically valuable in the maladies of the soul that we are temporarily met with.

In my case, I needed to know who truly loves me, and I needed to not be so ready to allow people into my life, regardless of the reason that I would have to allow them into it. This is the lesson that my Gracie is learning, and the lesson that I know, when she is older, and she is making lots and lots of money, and her work is gracing the front covers of magazines all over the world, that it will not have been her father who got her there, at least not the way that he will, if he is even alive at that time, try to take credit for.

It wonʻt even be me who is allowed to do more than remind her that I am not the one who makes or breaks her, and hell no is it going to be the tiny-man-in-the-soul who she refers to now as “bitch-ass.”

It will be and already is herself, and she knows this, because she has watched me for almost two years now heal my own brain injury, through intense study of our neurological selves, which was caused by years and years of my having to hear what others have told me is the truth, and then years on top of that of my always and also being told to shut up, all the time, that I am able, now more than ever, to take on my own world and not look back.

This is the only lesson that she needs to learn in her life – that I was just, am just, outside of her boyfriend Tommy, her biggest fan…and more, that her father is just a lesson that she has to learn…

She will be fine. She is strong like the wind, deep like the ocean, beautiful like the stars, and of course, what Tommy refers to as being “The Baby Pineapple…”

It is a good moniker to have, seeing as how I am The older, wiser Pineapple to a Pucking Irish Guy…

The world is yours, and to hell with that guy, Gracie…to hell with the guy who you refer to as Bitch-Ass…Youʻve got this….

Indeed…go, baby, go !!

#LosAngelesKahunaRox22

#TheCrabAndTheFish

#FaceByGraceCottell

 

*The Rev. Kahuna Roxanne K. Cottell (#LosAngelesKahunaRox) is a writer, mom to Jeremy, Grace and Joshua, the #PuckingIrishGuys Pineapple, a NeuroCog student, research geek in the area of the Soul and how it survives, Crafty Teacher, and all around nice person. To contact her, click here