Marimac
A Disturbance in the Force
After 30 years of exposure to a strictly hierarchical, localized system of exploiting women who seek recovery from alcohol abuse, I know that it is time to make note of what I have seen and experienced in that sphere. This place seems like a safe enough venue for my observations. Of course, I have been wrong about "safe people and places" many times before. That's for another post on another day.
My experiences are very personal, as the primary exploiters whom I will shed light upon are my mother, my late step-father and siblings. Please understand that I need to get some of these ideas expressed, finally, in a scholarly context free from overt censorship and guaranteed punishment for speaking out. Not that the punishment could get much worse than it already is: My family has banished me, pre-emptively, out of fear that I might just do what I am about to, now. That is to write what I know.
Let me begin by mentioning that I am a 52 year old well trained, professional journalist. And, yes, I can produce ample credentials, samples of my published work and letters of recommendation from former editors and a well-known author, for whom I worked as a personal assistant, to any folks who ask. In other words, I am no Vincent Bridges! Sincerity and honesty are exactly the qualities which have compelled me to write, after all, even though these very basic components of my character
have never ceased to draw the ire of psychopathic, narcissistic types. They have had me silenced and on the run for far too long.
There is a house in Massachusetts which provides rooms, on a weekly rental basis (and NOT cheaply) to women who are in the process of recovery from alcoholism and substance abuse. Many of these women, hundreds of them over the decades, have actually been made homeless for the first time in their lives by the proprietress of this so-called "sober house". She runs the place on a tight, strict set of rules that she, alone, makes up and has a very quick turnover of cash-paying customers from a long waiting list of referrals from respectable rehabilitation institutions. In short: it's a mill, drawing in fresh blood constantly, to stoke the ego and pad the pockets (tax-free, for she hides all her cash income) of one narcissistic, psychopathic landlady. That woman is my mother.
Delusions of grandeur, claims to a superiority over all other females and a heavy regimen of pills- both prescribed and street drugs- fuel this woman's megalomaniacal lifestyle, which, from the outside, looks perfectly packaged and morally sound. In public she is a "spellbinder", loud and garrulous, dripping with charm, feigning a folksy commonality with people she has just met. A natural politician and player of other people's emotional responses, very few individuals can see what her true motives are until it's too late. These women, fleeced out of their rent money, will find all their possessions in garbage bags at the end of the long circular driveway of "Mrs. T's" three-story Victorian when they get home from work or a meeting, if one of the devoted sycophants in residence has ratted them out for some indiscretion or another. Often, one of Mrs. T's spies just doesn't like her new roommate. Allegations of alcohol or drug abuse are made and WHAM! That newbie is out on her butt with no place else to go. I have personally observed this dozens of times. As I said: the waiting list ensures a ready supply of narcissistic source and money, with no liability or responsibilities on the part of Mrs. T. She's just authorized to take the money and show them to their room but they all look up to her as a counselor and she plays that role to the hilts. No educational background in anything, no background in psychological evaluations or experience with social work- nothing. The women who land in that house merely ASSUME that Mrs. T has some training as a counselor and holds a license to practice because Mrs. T "ACTS" like she does.
In her world, a person is guilty until pronounced more guilty. Innocence is a curse word to Mrs. T, as in : "You're so innocent! Grow up and get over it! " Darn, if I had a dollar for every time she threw that precise insult at me, I'd be almost as rich as she is. Sarcasm aside, this woman is a serious threat to already traumatized women at a very vulnerable point in their lives.
There is another aspect of her profession that I find to be reprehensible: She is a Justice of the Peace. She marries people. That entitles her to use the term, Honorable as in "The Honorable Mrs. T." And she uses it, too, in the most inappropriate situations. If she could use the term Queen and get away with it (some of her suck-up friends do refer to her as the "Queen of the Universe", only half in jest) believe me, she would.
Now, to the personal side of this post: I was one of her "victims". Many, many times, in too many horrible situations to go into right now (rape and torture, followed by cover-ups and denial figure into this) my own mother has lured me into her world just to prove that she can turn around and chuck me out on my butt, deprived of my personal possessions and all my dignity, as the "blacksheep" of her family. Emphasize- HER FAMILY- not mine. She has turned my siblings and even my two grown children against me because I caught on to her schemes. Actually, she confided in me that she knew what she had been doing for decades was indeed immoral, she was absolutely certain that it was NOT illegal, though (except for the code violations, the banning of Blacks and Latinas from her home and the tax evasion parts). She really believes that she is above all laws. She also believes that she has me silenced, permanently, because for 50 years I was so loyal to the "family secrets". No more.
The last time she threw me out, I had been lured into her home under the pretense that I would take over the business as she aged. She is 72 at this time. I was laid off from my regular job, my longtime boyfriend had just dumped me, summarily, for another lover and that's when she moved in for the final kill. Without warning, I found myself searching for a place to live without the money to put down a deposit. I begged her for some help. After all, she had stalked me for nine months, pressuring me to leave my own apartment and dispose of all my furniture, appliances, etc. because we would be a perfect pair, together, living a comfortable lifestyle while providing a humane service to others. B.S. She got me where she wanted me and then lowered the boom- squarely on my back.
I did accept a parting gift of $1500, ( a tiny fraction of what it cost me to move in with her) with these words attached: "Get out of my life and never come back. Take this money and go: it's cheaper than burying you!" Nice, sweet, maternal sentiment, eh? No, these are the words of a pathological narcissist who has created a ponerological mob, populated by winners (of her choosing) and losers (those of us she damns) under the auspices of a self-help program designed to liberate sufferers, not to make their lives a thousand times worse.
A book may be forthcoming. Depending upon my ability to complete it under very harsh living conditions, at present. Thanks for reading. Peace.
My experiences are very personal, as the primary exploiters whom I will shed light upon are my mother, my late step-father and siblings. Please understand that I need to get some of these ideas expressed, finally, in a scholarly context free from overt censorship and guaranteed punishment for speaking out. Not that the punishment could get much worse than it already is: My family has banished me, pre-emptively, out of fear that I might just do what I am about to, now. That is to write what I know.
Let me begin by mentioning that I am a 52 year old well trained, professional journalist. And, yes, I can produce ample credentials, samples of my published work and letters of recommendation from former editors and a well-known author, for whom I worked as a personal assistant, to any folks who ask. In other words, I am no Vincent Bridges! Sincerity and honesty are exactly the qualities which have compelled me to write, after all, even though these very basic components of my character
have never ceased to draw the ire of psychopathic, narcissistic types. They have had me silenced and on the run for far too long.
There is a house in Massachusetts which provides rooms, on a weekly rental basis (and NOT cheaply) to women who are in the process of recovery from alcoholism and substance abuse. Many of these women, hundreds of them over the decades, have actually been made homeless for the first time in their lives by the proprietress of this so-called "sober house". She runs the place on a tight, strict set of rules that she, alone, makes up and has a very quick turnover of cash-paying customers from a long waiting list of referrals from respectable rehabilitation institutions. In short: it's a mill, drawing in fresh blood constantly, to stoke the ego and pad the pockets (tax-free, for she hides all her cash income) of one narcissistic, psychopathic landlady. That woman is my mother.
Delusions of grandeur, claims to a superiority over all other females and a heavy regimen of pills- both prescribed and street drugs- fuel this woman's megalomaniacal lifestyle, which, from the outside, looks perfectly packaged and morally sound. In public she is a "spellbinder", loud and garrulous, dripping with charm, feigning a folksy commonality with people she has just met. A natural politician and player of other people's emotional responses, very few individuals can see what her true motives are until it's too late. These women, fleeced out of their rent money, will find all their possessions in garbage bags at the end of the long circular driveway of "Mrs. T's" three-story Victorian when they get home from work or a meeting, if one of the devoted sycophants in residence has ratted them out for some indiscretion or another. Often, one of Mrs. T's spies just doesn't like her new roommate. Allegations of alcohol or drug abuse are made and WHAM! That newbie is out on her butt with no place else to go. I have personally observed this dozens of times. As I said: the waiting list ensures a ready supply of narcissistic source and money, with no liability or responsibilities on the part of Mrs. T. She's just authorized to take the money and show them to their room but they all look up to her as a counselor and she plays that role to the hilts. No educational background in anything, no background in psychological evaluations or experience with social work- nothing. The women who land in that house merely ASSUME that Mrs. T has some training as a counselor and holds a license to practice because Mrs. T "ACTS" like she does.
In her world, a person is guilty until pronounced more guilty. Innocence is a curse word to Mrs. T, as in : "You're so innocent! Grow up and get over it! " Darn, if I had a dollar for every time she threw that precise insult at me, I'd be almost as rich as she is. Sarcasm aside, this woman is a serious threat to already traumatized women at a very vulnerable point in their lives.
There is another aspect of her profession that I find to be reprehensible: She is a Justice of the Peace. She marries people. That entitles her to use the term, Honorable as in "The Honorable Mrs. T." And she uses it, too, in the most inappropriate situations. If she could use the term Queen and get away with it (some of her suck-up friends do refer to her as the "Queen of the Universe", only half in jest) believe me, she would.
Now, to the personal side of this post: I was one of her "victims". Many, many times, in too many horrible situations to go into right now (rape and torture, followed by cover-ups and denial figure into this) my own mother has lured me into her world just to prove that she can turn around and chuck me out on my butt, deprived of my personal possessions and all my dignity, as the "blacksheep" of her family. Emphasize- HER FAMILY- not mine. She has turned my siblings and even my two grown children against me because I caught on to her schemes. Actually, she confided in me that she knew what she had been doing for decades was indeed immoral, she was absolutely certain that it was NOT illegal, though (except for the code violations, the banning of Blacks and Latinas from her home and the tax evasion parts). She really believes that she is above all laws. She also believes that she has me silenced, permanently, because for 50 years I was so loyal to the "family secrets". No more.
The last time she threw me out, I had been lured into her home under the pretense that I would take over the business as she aged. She is 72 at this time. I was laid off from my regular job, my longtime boyfriend had just dumped me, summarily, for another lover and that's when she moved in for the final kill. Without warning, I found myself searching for a place to live without the money to put down a deposit. I begged her for some help. After all, she had stalked me for nine months, pressuring me to leave my own apartment and dispose of all my furniture, appliances, etc. because we would be a perfect pair, together, living a comfortable lifestyle while providing a humane service to others. B.S. She got me where she wanted me and then lowered the boom- squarely on my back.
I did accept a parting gift of $1500, ( a tiny fraction of what it cost me to move in with her) with these words attached: "Get out of my life and never come back. Take this money and go: it's cheaper than burying you!" Nice, sweet, maternal sentiment, eh? No, these are the words of a pathological narcissist who has created a ponerological mob, populated by winners (of her choosing) and losers (those of us she damns) under the auspices of a self-help program designed to liberate sufferers, not to make their lives a thousand times worse.
A book may be forthcoming. Depending upon my ability to complete it under very harsh living conditions, at present. Thanks for reading. Peace.
