A psychopath is an expert in the blamegame and puts blame on their victim like stones in a rucksack. They seem to find pleasure in being a false accuser and they watch with delight when their victim’s rucksack is full and their victim is weighed down with guilt stones.

Why?

It is quite obvious that they are pure evil. And if you get a little bit under the skin of a psychopath - and you might find it really hard to believe it - but they have absolute zero feelings for any person exept themselves. This makes them able to abuse others whilst they themselves sleep like a child at night.

This reminds us of the devil. The name for him in greek is “diabolos”.
Directly translated to English, it is the word “traducer”, which means:

“ someone that exposes to shame or blame by means of falsehood and misrepresentation.”

A good synonym is a “false accuser”, which also is the word that the Bible uses when naming the devil.

A psychopath is also a “diabolos”, and as they are evil they also find pleasure in it.

In my story that I called “Is it my fault??”, I wrote about how “Karen” (my biological mother), withdrew money from my bank account to pay the phone bill. When I found out about it she blamed me for using the phone too much like a “diabolos”, and therefore it “justified” her taking my money to pay the phone bill.

Evil as she was, she enjoyed putting guilt on me while caring nothing that I was left with so little money that if I was to go on my planned trip to my friend, I would have no money for food.

The phone bill was paid with my money, and that was the only thing she cared about. That I potentially could go without food for a week seemed not to bother her even for a second. But I was determined to go, even though I had only money to pay for the trip.

You can read all about it here:

The psychopaths want to destroy their victims, and one way to do that is to blame the victim for what they themselves do.

They often choose a soft hearted, conscientious person, as they are easy victims that don’t want to do wrong, so when the they get accused they examine themselves to see if it really is true what they are accused of. They receive the blame very easily and think it must be their own fault that they are being abused.

On top of that psychopaths are smart, so to silence and disarm their victim they come with “gifts” so that the victim feel bad if they were to say something negative about this “nice” person that gave them money or clothes. So, they feel even more guilt for thinking such “negative” thoughts, and are kept in bondage under the abuser who has absolutely zero remorse for their evil behaviour.

It is even more evil when this is done to a child. A child cannot figure out that it is actually the adult that is the guilty one. They take the blame in on themselves and feel the guilt that they never should have felt, and is completely abused by the one that has all the guilt, namely the evil adult.

If you grew up with an abuser, it is important to get this erased from your system that it was your fault. If not, you will always feel that everything that happens in life is your own fault. We can compare it to a wound that never gets healed properly. It starts to heal, but when something happens, and you feel guilt, the wound is ripped up again. And then you are back to square one again, and the wound has to start the healing process all over again.

And even though you in your head know that it is not your fault, it seems like you can not be rational when guilt shows up. You kind of don’t think, and the feeling of guilt just takes over and dominates you.

The guilt you feel is wrong!

A person that has been accused through childhood will suffer from flashbacks.

For example:

During childhood the child might have heard;

-Take up the pillow from the floor. Why do you always put it there? I am so tired of telling you every day. Can’t you ever do it right??

Then she might hear as an adult:

- Can you take up the pillow from the floor, please?

Even if the accusative words from childhood are never said (or meant), in the mind it automatically comes up anyway, and she feels accused. (Even though she is not.)

So when you feel accused by others, is it really so or is it just the soul having a flashback from the abuser?

It is important to understand that the problem is that there is damage in the soul, by having been abused. This damage causes things to be misunderstood, so you feel accused when you are not. And they can show up from nowhere. An innocent sentence can feel really hurtful. Then keep in mind that the problem is not what was said - but the damage in the soul that causes you to misunderstand what was said.

To understand this will help a lot when you get these flashbacks as an adult.

So as an adult, if you feel accused by someone, think about what that person’s track record is and what the “fruit“ is of that person. If it is good, it is unlikely that it is an accusation, and then you should choose to think good and know that this is just a flashback. Realise that you have a damage/ wound in your soul and refuse to accept the guilt that you feel.

A good rule of thumb is that if you are married to a person that you know is good, it is always flashbacks from the abuse when you feel accused by the spouse.

Look at it all logical and understand that there is no one that accuses me. Every time you do this it will be a step in the right direction, and the wound in the soul will stop being ripped up again and will heal for real.

It is not your fault!

Above we looked at the feeling of being accused, when you actually not.

But what about when you actually are accused by a person that is not good? Just like I was so many times.

Refuse to accept the guilt. It is not my fault. This psychopath is evil and wants to blame me when she is the guilty one.

It is just a lie!

Share My experience of growing up with a psychopath

God is the opposite of a psychopath, He is love!

When it comes to God, He never accuses us. He always lifts us and helps us. He can disipline and correct us, but never in the Bible do we see that God accuses us.

Jesus showed us the Father and we never see that Jesus accused anyone. Nowhere in the Bible do we see that Jesus accused people. Contrary we see that He gave hope and future. He cared and had compassion on people.

One example is the woman taken in adultery:

"When Jesus had lifted up Himself, and saw none but the woman, He said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?  She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more." John 8:10-11

Jesus gave her hope.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”(Jer 29:11)

God’s nature is the opposite of the accuser (devil), and the opposite of a psychopath’s.

There is always a future and hope with Him.

It is always a positive message. A solution even when He corrects us.

Jesus is the very definition of love!

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” (1Cor 13:13)

The Bible says in James 4:7: “ Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”

You could also say: - Resist the false accuser and he will flee from you.

God told us to resist the false accuser. From this we understand that we should also resist and not accept, when people come and try to be diabolos - false accusers.

So whenever someone comes with a false accusation, we should close our ears, resist it and not receive it.

What should we think about?

"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." (Phil 4:8)

As we see, there is no room for us to think about false accusations as they are not part of what we are instructed to think about.

God does not want us to think about false accusations.

He has future and hope for you, and the key is:

To follow Jesus 100% - then He really can help you.

True to the Bible’s instruction, the teaching part of this post is by my husband Emanuel.

-Liv

This is a bit different than my normal topic, but I want you all to read about this very important issue, written by my husband Emanuel, which I of course also stand by 100%.

We know that “God has not called us unto uncleanness, but unto holiness.”

(1 Thessalonians 4:7)

We know from the context that uncleanness here is sexual uncleanness, sexual immorality.

The Bible talks a lot about sexual purity - a message that a lot of so called Christians have left behind, and which is much disliked by many non-Christians.

Now we might need to mention that the word purity has been hi-jacked by new age and pagans, but having food or air pure, will not do any spiritual or eternal good. However the Bible talks a lot about purity – and sexual purity is a very important thing in the Bible.

Today the so called “Purity culture” is much hated and smeared.

However values like to abstain from sex before marriage and for women to cover up and dress modestly to avoid men looking at them with lust, are classic Christian, Bible based values.

Whilst Bible haters describe this as something bad - of course the very opposite is true.

History has proved time and time again that following the Bible gives healthy marriages and happy persons, whilst the impure, sexual immoral life, so much pushed in music videos and soap-operas, has wrecked a countless number of marriages, and destroyed the life of so many precious people.

For anyone wanting to be a Christian, to abstain from sex before marriage and for women to cover up and dress modestly, should be basic, and this is a view held by all true Christians in all times and no Christian leader is to be found that have had another view.

Yes, this is indeed one of the most obvious things in the Bible.

Jesus Himself said:

“That whosoever looks on a woman to lust after her has committed adultery with her already in his heart.” (Matthew 5:28)

Everyone knowing a little about how men and women functions, knows that many men find it very hard not to look at a woman with lust if she has little clothes or tight clothes.

Yes, some goes so far as to say that it is impossible for a man not to do it. Whilst this is not true, probably the majority of men find themselves in this very position. They cannot but to look with lust.

This is as basic as 1 + 1 = 2

Needless to say, this of course puts a responsibility on a woman to cover up and dress modestly, not to get men to sin against their will.

- Yes, but shall I not have the freedom to dress as I want?, someone might say.

We do not have freedom to hurt others, but shall behave respectfully towards others, and not do anything that is causing someone to stumble.

Just as we do not have the freedom to drive on the wrong side of the road, just because we want to be free to do it.

And God has instructed the woman how to dress:
“Likewise that women adorn themselves in decent apparel, with modesty and sobriety,” (1 Timothy 2:9)

It is obvious that if a woman clothes the Christian way – it will not draw attention to her body.

And which Christian woman wants someone else than her husband to see her anyway?

Sexual immorality is a heavy duty attack on Christianity

Sexual immorality is one of the most hurtful things for people.

It has wrecked a countless number of lives, marriages and inflicted so much pain.

This is of course one reason why the Bible warns so much for it.

In Acts 15 we see that the gentile Christians got very few instructions, but to abstain from sexual immorality was one of them.

“that you abstain from things offered to idols, from blood, from things strangled, and from sexual immorality. If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well.” (Acts 15:29 NKJV)

And we know that Balaam helped putting a stumbling block for Israel, and one way in which he did it was by sending in women to get them to commit sexual immorality.

“But I have a few things against you, because you have there those who hold the doctrine of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a stumbling block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed to idols, and to commit sexual immorality.” (Revelation 2:14 NKJV)

In 1 Corinthians we read the we should “Flee sexual immorality. Every sin that a man does is outside the body, but he who commits sexual immorality sins against his own body.” (1 Corinthians 6:18 NKJV)

Not only avoid – Flee. And flee is a pretty strong word.

And in 2 Timothy 2:22 we read:

“Flee also youthful lusts:”

And when the deeds of the flesh are listed up, sexual immorality, tops the list.

“The deeds of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, wantonness,” (Galatians 5:19)

and we see:

“of the which I tell you before, as I have told you in time past, that they which commit such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.” (Galatians 5:21)

We could go on and on with Bible verse after Bible verse about this, as this is a major thing for any Christian to avoid, as pointed out in Acts 15, and as it causes a lot of problems.

It is simply beyond dispute that a Christian should live pure and holy and avoid sexual immorality.

And as we all know - sexual immorality starts with the eyes.

If you are a man: Make a quality decision not to look at women, except your wife. And God is there to help you.

After all, what is wrong with focusing your eyes on a woman’s face or hands?

I am not saying that you should look away if someone comes against you very little clothes. Some might find it better to do it, others not. That is a call you have to make yourself.

If you are a woman: Make a quality decision to not having men falling into sin, by looking at you, and dress accordingly.

Clearly, all clothing that draws attention to the female sexual body parts – there is no good reason for any true Christian woman to wear.

That this is really important we also see in 1 Thessalonians

“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you should abstain from sexual immorality;

that each of you should know how to possess his own vessel in sanctification and honor,

not in passion of lust, like the Gentiles who do not know God;

that no one should take advantage of and defraud his brother in this matter, because the Lord is the avenger of all such, as we also forewarned you and testified.

For God did not call us to uncleanness, but in holiness.

Therefore he who rejects this does not reject man, but God, who has also given us His Holy Spirit.”

(1 Thessalonians 4:3-7 NKJV)

God does not take this lightly. Contrary we see that the Lord is the avenger of all such.

And that he who rejects this does not reject man, but God.

We could go on and on and on with Bible verses showing how important it is for a Christian to avoid sexual immorality.

As we now have seen, to get Christians to commit sexual immorality is a major attack

Therefore to claim that Christians are free to look at women they are not married to, or that Christian women are free to not dress modestly - is a serious heresy.

Some claim that God’s grace mean that you can ignore His commandments – which really is not smart.

Others claim that a pure heart is enough and that then you can ignore God’s commandments about sexual purity and live as you want – which again is not smart at all.

If you are not a Christian reading this – the most important is to get your life right with God, by giving all your heart to Jesus. 100%

And when you have done – actions shall follow.

If you are Christian – we have now documented that the instructions in the Bible on this topic are crystal clear, which of course also is why true Christians throughout history have had the same view on this topic.

Wish you well.

Emanuel & Liv

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My first story here on Substack ,was about when I was a 15 year old girl on my way home from Church one late evening. I didn’t have a drivers licence of course, so I needed someone to drive me home.

Now this was something that was a constant problem for me every weekend. To find a way to get home after Church.

So I asked friends if I could go with them when their parents came and picked them up, and that way I got myself to a petrol station about 7 km away from my house. If I was lucky, they drove me all the way home, but sometimes I had to call home from this petrol station and ask to be picked up.

If my dad answered, he always came, but if it was Karen it could be a complete different story. She always made herself so difficult, and made me know clear and loud that she did not want to pick me up.

Why? - Because I was a burden to her!

One time, she refused to pick me up for no reason at all. She gave me a long lecture on the phone, before hanging up. So, I had no option but to start walking home on a dark country road, that would take me over an hour to walk, and in addition it was very late.

I think it is fair to say that she had no feelings for her own flesh and blood. ( Yes, she was my mother – but I call her Karen)

If you want to read the story, you can do it here:

My experience of growing up with a psychopath

The psychopath's ultimate goal.

Standing inside the gas station, I paid to borrow the phone, and called home…

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a year ago · 237 likes · 42 comments · Liv Imanuelsen

So what did this do to me, by her treating me this way?

Obviously, I felt worthless, rejected, unloved and a big burden to her. Many times I had to take care of myself, when I really was to young to do so.

When you grow up with an abuser, it of course affects you. Maybe you have been treated similarly, and recognise yourself in what I write.

Maybe you carry with you the same feeling - of not wanting to be a burden.

In this post I want to share what I believe is the way to get healed from the damage that malicious parents afflicts on defenseless children. And I will deal with the feeling of being a burden.

A malicious parent makes it known loud and clear that the child is a burden in their life.

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Let’s think about a newborn baby:

It comes as a gift from God, and designed to be completely in need of its parents.

In the beginning, it is especially very much in need of the mother for feeding, comfort and safety. Without the parents, the baby has no chance of survival. You could say that the baby is a big "burden" for the parents.

But everyone that puts a child into this world has a duty to take care of the child, when it can't take care of itself. God has designed it like that.

So, when parents don't want to do their duty, it is because they don’t love their child.

The child will notice, and will feel like a burden.

But this is a upside down world!

The child is not a burden. It is a child and it is the parents’ duty to take care of their child.

In my case, Karen wouldn’t pick me up when I needed her to. She was fully able to do her duty, but she wouldn’t and I knew on the inside that she didn’t care less about me. I was a burden for her. Maybe I was disturbing her TV time....

But I was not a burden. I was neglected by the one whose duty was to care for me.

When your parent neglects you, life is not over. There is One who cares, The Father of all fathers. And He says:

Isa 49:15: "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee."

Isa 49:16: "Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands"

Let me tell you this:

You are not a burden! It is a lie!

The truth is that they are egoistic parents who don’t care and don’t want to do their duty.

Instead they want you to believe that you are a burden, so that they don’t have to do what the should do, and can continue to live their lazy, egosentric and loveless life.

But is all a lie. You are NOT a burden.

God is your Creator and He wants to be your father and He DOES care about you. You are NOT a burden for Him, contrary Jesus says to you:

John 15:9: "As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love."

and:

John 17:23: "I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me."

God also says:

Jer 31:3: ...." Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love."

Remember: You are loved, and you are not a pain for Him.

The Bible also says that God is Love, and Eph 3:19 says: "And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge"

He even loved you so much that He died for you. That must mean that you are very important to Him! You will never find anyone even remotely like Him. He is the best person you can ever meet.

I heard a song once that said : - Could it be that you (Jesus) would really rather die than live without us?

And thats excactly what he did! A love so strong that He laid His life down for us.

- 1John 3:16 says: "Hereby perceive we the love of God, because He laid down his life for us:

Share My experience of growing up with a psychopath

As we have seen - God really loves you and cares about you. Yes, He wants better for you than you want for yourself, and You are definitely not a burden to Him.

And for anyone who loves you, you are not a burden either.

My advice is to think about this, and read these bibleverses until you realise that you are not a burden.

To hear the truth and believe it – will make the lies fade away - and it heals your soul and makes you stronger.

True to the bible instruction, the teaching part of this post is by my husband Emanuel.

-Liv

At only 17 years and 4 months, I had finally broken free from my abuser. With only a gymbag and a pair of worn out sailorshoes, I had walked out from my home to never move back in.

The feeling of being free from Karen’s grip was simply wonderful.

I had moved around 3 hours away, and I enjoyed something called “peace and quiet”.

As I sat on the floor in my friend Heidi’s house, I told her mother how wonderful it was to enjoy the peace and quietness around me. No more yelling and pecking day out and day in from Karen.

-I just love the peace, I told Heidi’s mother.

Peace was something I never had in my childhood. I was always waiting for the next outburst of wrath, like - when would Karen explode next time?

I had a good understanding of the saying: “To walk on eggshells.”

As I sat there on the floor - I told Heidi’s mother about Karen.

- She is not a kind person, she responded while shaking her head.

Read more here about how God helped me break free:

My experience of growing up with a psychopath

How I finally broke free from the psychopath's grip.

I was sitting at a table in the auditorium of my high school. It was June 1991, and the school year was over with the summer break ahead. I was looking at my grades from my first year. It was really depressing…

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a year ago · 111 likes · 25 comments · Liv Imanuelsen

Some days later the bibleschool started. It wasn’t a deep dive into theology. It was more of a “get to know God better” school. Every day we had worship and prayer and then a bible teacher preached on different topics from the Bible.

I loved the fact that it was such an inclusive fellowship. We were all friends and I got to know a lot of youths on my age that seemed serious about following Jesus. My old Church was more of a lukewarm place, where people could walk from praising God to a disco both in the same evening. But here we were around a hundred people of different ages that had set aside a whole school year, just because we wanted to get to know God better.

Every day was good to me. Life were so much better in just an instant. To be free from a psychopath was more wonderful than I could explain. I did not miss home a bit, and I knew I would never move back.

I was on my own from now. Poor but happy.

But there was one furious Karen at home that did not accept defeat….

A few weeks after I had left home I walked into Church , my eyes quickly noticed a familiar person. There in front of me, my dad and my little sister Monica were sitting at a table in the cafeteria. I was surprised. Why are they here?, I wondered as I walked over to them.

-Hi, why are you here?, I asked my dad.

He looked at me and said:

-You must come home with us, I am under order.

I smiled to him. My dad wasn’t very authorative. So his effort to command me was more of a plea.

I sat down and explained to him;

-I can’t dad. I have no plans to go back.

-Please come with me, I am under order. I am not allowed to return without you. His eyes was begging me. Then he told me how angry she would be on him if I didn’t come home.

-No problem, I replied.

-You and Monica can stay here with me then, because I will not go back home. We can rent a house together just us three.

In my mind this was a great idea, then we all would be free from Karen.

I can’t, Torleiv said as he shook his head.

-I have to go to work tomorrow morning, and Monica has school..

So there we sat in the cafeteria of the Church. He had given up trying to get me to return with him, so we chatted for a while and then they stood up to travel home. He did not look forward to meet his wife again for sure, especially not without me..

The marriage was a torture for him, but I could not help him very much. I was only 17 and had to help myself first.

My father called me a little later:

-She was furious when I came home without you. She kept me awake with the lights on. Yelling at me all night through, and then I had to go to work in the morning without any sleep…

I felt so sorry for him. She was so evil. I could not understand this sick behavour. But I was not able to help him. All I could do was to listen and give him my sympathy.

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Time flew and I thoroughly enjoyed every day. It was definitely the best year in my life so far. Just the fact that I never had to go and wait for the next explosion from Karen were enough to feel great, and it would never come either, because she was simply not there.

Oh what a wonderful peace!

It was so much easier to pray. To spend time with God every day alone was something I had not been able to do at home. But now I could !

My dad continued to call me regularly. He told me how my little sister Monica had developed an eating disorder. It was obvious that she was not handling the situation at home well.

- I‘m going to have a surgery, he told me once.

- A mole on my arm has grown rapidly so they will remove it and then do a biopsy to see if it is malicous or not.

After the surgery he told me that the lump had been bigger than expected.

-They had to cut almost down to the bone. They removed as much as they could, and now I have a large bandage on my arm.

The biopsy came back as malicious. I was glad the mole was removed and didn’t think anything more about it. And my dad didn’t speak much about it either. He probably thought everything would be just fine too…

( If you want to know what happened to him, read my memorial of him here at my son’s Substack):

The Freedom Corner with PeterSweden

In memory of Torleiv Iversen

This post isn’t like my usual news content, but it is still very important and it has to do with my grandfather. I recently went to visit his grave - BUT IT WAS GONE…

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a year ago · 256 likes · 135 comments · Liv Imanuelsen and Peter Imanuelsen

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In May as the school year came near to a close, my best friend Rebekka was going to get married, and she had asked me to be her maid of honour. We had known each other since early childhood and I was of course happy to do it.

They would get married in Haugesund, where we both had lived before the bibleschool, and this ment I had no choice but to sleep at my parents home. I dreaded it, but had no choice if I wanted to attend the wedding.

I had just turned 18, and passed the driver license test, so I drove the 3 hours home in an old car that I had borrowed from a friend.

Unfortunately for me, Karen was in an extremly bad mood. She was a bomb ready to explode any minute. We hadn’t met or talked since Christmas, yet she seemed to hate my very presence.

We were sitting in the living room and I was knitting on a sweater while she had a cup of coffee. I looked at her while I was knitting.

Studying her face, I knew what she needed to hear. So I opened my mouth at told her:

-Karen, you need Jesus!

-Swosh.

A cup of hot coffe hit me before I could even think. I looked down at my sweater and knitting. Hot coffee was all over me. My knitting took the first hit and spared me from getting burned. Thank God my face was spared!

Then I realised - She had done it!

For the first time in my life she had crossed a red line and attacked me physically. She became so angry at me for pointing to the One that could set her free - that she responded with throwing a cup of hot coffee on me.

Nice!

I stood up. Tears were pressing on but I just about managed to keep them back. I could not let her see how hurtful it was. But I also noticed that I felt stronger than before. I wasn’t under her anymore. My strenght had increased. I think that made her even more mad, that she had lost control over me.

A little later she was in the kithcen and still her anger was clearly present.

Looking at her face again I said:

-Karen, you really need Jesus.

Now this time she got mad as a hornet. She grabbed my both hands and pushed me with full force into the wall behind me. The back of my head hit a framed picture hanging on the wall and the glass broke in my head.

- Ouch, that hurt.

I automatically lifted my hand up to my head. A painful bump appered in the back of my head, but still it was nothing compared to the pain on the inside.

In that moment the tears flowed. I could not hold it in anymore. I turned and ran out of the house with Karen in hot pursuit.

I jumped in to the car I had borrowed, but Karen positioned herself so that I could not close the door.

-Let go of the door, I dont want to be here anymore, I cried to her with tears flowing down my cheeks, as we were fighting over the door.

Her strenght was unusal strong. I wasn’t able to close the car door. Where did she get her strength from?

I put the gear in reverse and started to back the car in the graveled driveway …

Suddenly I spotted my dad walking towards the house. He had been dropped off by some of his collegues after work. When he stepped in to the driveway, he stopped while looking at Karen and she looked at him, then she ran up the stairs and back in to the house.

-What happened?, he asked me looking like a questionmark. Then he sat down in the frontseat and talked to me in his usual guiet tone.

I told him what had happened, and that I wanted to leave.

-But you have nowhere to go, he responded.

-I will drive to Rebekka’s house and tell them what happened, I am sure they will understand, and let me stay there.

You can’t do that. Rebekka is getting married tommorow. We don’t want to destroy her wedding. Stay here Liv, Torleiv said.

Rebekka was Mr. and Mrs. Larsen daughter and the Larsen family was very close to me. I had known them since I could remember, and she was at her parents house getting ready for her wedding day. If I came crying with a big bump in my head I could spoil Rebekka’s wedding. I could not do that. I didn’t want to be a burden, so I agreed to stay.

Something in me though had realised that my relationship with the one I had called mama, was completely destroyed. All trust was totally gone. I felt completely rejected and hated.

Instead I turned to God, he would help me, I knew that for sure.

Next day was Rebekka’s big day. The bump in my head was painful, but nothing compared to the pain I felt on the inside, I blinked away the tears again and again. I tried to be strong, it was a wedding and I was the maid of honour.

At the wedding dinner, my pastor who was the boss over the bibleschool and his wife sat opposite of me. He had married the couple.

I dared not to talk to him. But he looked at me and asked:

-What do you want to do in life then?

My answer came straight from my heart:

-Go all the way with God.

He nodded seriously, and continued to talk to about how good christian schools were compared to non christian. And he said that he planned to start a music school too.

I liked that. I will be the first to apply, I thought to myself.

Sunday morning, the day after the wedding I went to the local church that my pastor had started in the town. He preached there that morning before going back south to his bibleschool and his main church.

In the middle of the sermon he stopped and looked at me:

-Can I say this?

I just nodded as I had no idea what he wanted to say.

With his charismatic style and feelings, he talked about how my words from the day before had struck him straight in to his heart.

I was confused. Isn’t this something every Christian wants to do? I thought to myself.

Of course it is a price to pay, the pain from my bump in my head certainly reminded me of that, but as I was young and naive, I didn’t understand that not every one was willing to pay the price to follow Jesus.

I was to young to understand that not everyone who said Lord, Lord would enter the gates of heaven, and that not everyone who starts a race finishes it.

And little did I know then that this pastor would destroy many people’s life, because they followed him, a flawed human and not God.

After the Sunday service I hurried to the old black borrowed car, driving the 3 hour back south to the small town where the bibelschool still had a few weeks left before the summerbreak in June.

_____________________________________________________________________________

This was in 1991-1992, and I enjoyed this year so much, even though I had very little money but I didn’t care.

It was the year of freedom and a new start.

Just getting away, and to be able to think clearly without the constant yelling and just simply live a life without abuse.

I didn’t know what the future would bring, but I knew Jesus held my future and that was enough for me.

-Liv

For you that is new here, I write small stories about how it was for me to grow up with a psychopath. If you want more background info you can read my other posts and you will understand better who the people I write about are. All persons are real and I have only changed some names for privacy reasons.

I was sitting at a table in the auditorium of my high school. It was June 1991, and the school year was over with the summer break ahead. I was looking at my grades from my first year. It was really depressing.

I had always been doing well at school. My dad Torleiv, always praised my results, and he was so proud of me for getting good grades.

But high school was tough. It was so much pressure and I struggled to find the extra strength needed to concentrate well, when I also had to handle an increasingly malicious mother at home.

I felt like all I did was study, study, study, but still my grades went down from very good to just average. I almost wanted to cry.

I felt so depressed. I had really looked forward to study music in high school, but nothing had turned out as I had hoped. In addition my friend Stine who didn’t study music told me I had gotten the “look” over me.

-What look? I asked her.

-Well, the look those who studies music have. You all have this “special look”, she explained to me.

It scared me!

I knew what she meant. All we had in our mind, was music from morning to night and we hung together almost like a sect. It was close to becoming kind of a religion to me. To be a musician. I knew I didn’t want to go down that road, because it would draw me away from God.

I had been thinking a while about quitting and go to bible school instead. I didn’t enjoy high school, and when I saw my grades, it was kind of the last drop for me.

As I walked out of the school and down the stairs, I kind of said goodbye on the inside. I think I won’t come back. It was bittersweet though, because I had enjoyed singing Mendelssohn’s Elijah in the high school choir, and playing classical pieces together with my classmates on my brand new clarinet.

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Later I was sitting at my white desk in my bedroom. I had just filled in the application paper to the bible school, and decided to put it in my drawer until I could send it.

My friend Heidi ,who had already finished the first year of bible school said she would look after a place that we could rent together, and it seemed like a great idea to me.

During the summer break, which lasted around eight weeks, I would work on a gas station and make some extra money, and then I would head for the bible school in August. I could continue my education after bible school. Life wasn’t over just because I took a break.

In my independent mind I had the plan ready, but there was just one minor detail in my plan that I had missed…

Karen!

When she found out, she was furious. She followed after me in to my bedroom while I tried to get away from her yelling.

-You are not allowed to go to bible school! I will not allow you!

I looked at her while she gave me a hailstorm of yelling.

-You are not allowed. You are only seventeen, and still underage. I‘ve said no!

She was so hard, and her eyes were so cold.

Why was she going after me in this way? As if I was a threat to her Royal Kingdom or something. Couldn’t she just leave me alone? And was it true? Could she forbid me? I sighed and didn’t know what to think.

It was a relief to hop on my bike and pedal to work at the gas station. Half an hour biking with plenty of fresh air to my battered brain. A welcome break from the terror woman at home.

Unfortunately for me, Karen was on a mission to break me to pieces completely this summer. Because if I managed to break lose, what would the consequences be?

She would lose control over me, and that could just not happen.

Again and again, she had a go at me, and I truly felt as if I was fighting for my life. It was the worst summer ever. I started to feel so weighed down and thoughts of giving up already played in my mind.

I better get that application posted before I give up, I thought to myself. So I opened the drawer in my bedroom to pick up my bible school application.

But it was gone!

I immediately understood that Karen had something to do with this.

And Karen of course knew.

-I ripped it to pieces and threw it. You are not going, because I have said no! She seemed so pleased with herself.

I sighed. That was it! I gave up, my plans were over! There would be no bible school for me after all. I would just have to go back to high school.

But God had other plans…

Some days later the phone rang, and I was all alone in the house. I hurried out in the pine panelled hallway and answered. It was my friend Heidi.

-Hi, I think I might have found the place that we can rent. It is perfect for students and only 10 minutes from the bibleschool, she told me excitedly.

-Well, that’s nice, I replied.

- But I am not going. I am not allowed. Karen has forbidden me because I am only seventeen.

-Not going? But you can’t give up now. Heidi tried to put some guts in to me.

-She is terrorising me every day, besides she tore my application to pieces and threw it in the bin, so I have given up and will go back to high school in August.

But Heidi had no plans to give up on me. She talked and talked until I slowly felt my will returning. Step by step I stood up on the inside again. Heidi didn’t stop speaking, until I decided to not give up.

What was I thinking? Should this woman stop me?

Never!

There on the phone with Heidi I did what I call a rock hard decision;

I would go to the bible school, and not even all the Karens in this world, would be able to stop me!

When I hung up I was determined like never before.

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The day had arrived. I hadn’t taken me long to pack my gym bag. It wasn’t much, but I planned to come back in the autumn break and get some more stuff.

I had asked Mrs. Larsen if I could travel with them the three hour trip to the small town where the bibleschool was. She was driving her own two daughters and one of her sons, and there was plenty of space in the old ten seater VW minibus. She said she would pick me up.

Karen knew my plans, but she was strangely quiet. It was a bit odd though, but I didn’t mind. Peace and quiet were sparse, and for whatever reason, she took a break from yelling this day.

Karen left the house half an hour before Mrs. Larsen would pick me up. It would give me time alone to prepare the last things, without her being around and try to stop me.

I took my bag out in the hallway, and put my jacket on. Then I needed to find the best suitable shoes to wear. Mrs. Larsen would arrive any minute.

I looked around… where were my shoes? They were not in the usual place.

I opened the hall wardrobe. In here maybe? No…

Maybe out in the small entrance hall? ...No, not there either…

Then it suddenly dawned on me…

Oh noo!

Karen has taken away all my shoes, and hid them. I could not believe it. That was why she was so quiet. I bet she is so pleased with herself now.

Well if she thinks she can stop me, she has chosen the wrong person. I will walk out without shoes and Mrs. Larsen will notice for sure.

Mrs. Larsen had arrived outside. She honked.

I decided to take a last look into the hall wardrobe, before walking out in my socks. Hey wait! What did I spot?

Well hidden, behind the others shoes was a pair of old worn out sailor shoes with a beginning hole. Because of their condition I never used them anymore. It was better than nothing. I quickly put them on and walked out the door.

As I walked down the stairs and over to the minibus in my worn out shoes, I could hardly wait for the future. I already felt happier, with my gym bag on my shoulder as I climbed in to the old brown VW bus and into my new future without Karen’s abuse.

-Liv

For you that are new to my substack, thank you for signing up.

If you have not read any of my former posts, I am just telling my story about how it was to grow up with a psychopath.

The psychopath is my biological mother, but I just call her Karen. ( Not her real name)

I hope you find my posts of help, but most of all I hope you see that even if life is not fair, God is our helper if we let Him help us.

It was in the middle of a Norwegian lesson. We were sitting at our desks and listening to our teacher Karianne, when she suddenly stopped, and looked at me. There, in front of the whole class, she asked:

-Why are you so sad, Liv?

-Anton said that you are always so sad. (Anton was one of my classmates.)

-Are you?

I froze, and before I could even think, I lied:

-I am not. I am not sad.

I hoped it sounded convincing.

She looked at me, pausing for a second as if she was thinking what to say next, but instead she turned her attention back to teaching as if nothing had happened. I felt relieved that she accepted my lie.

If she only knew…

Was it really so obvious, that others could see it?

Why did she ask me in front of the class? If she had approached me alone, maybe I would have told her, but that never happened.

This was a really tough blow for me. I was supposed to be happy. To be a light for Jesus to my peers. The truth was that, yes, I was truly happy to follow Jesus, but the weight of all the trouble at home, was a very heavy burden for a young teenager to carry all alone.

And being singled out in front of my classmates, just added more weight to that burden.

I struggled with thoughts in my mind, that I was such a bad representative for Jesus. After all, no one would want to become a Christian when they looked at sad Liv.

Maybe it was best that I left Jesus, so that I would not be a hinder for others?

I struggled and struggled with this, until, one day, I just couldn’t continue. I was sitting on a bench in a shopping center thinking about it. My father was a backslider, and I was all alone in my family as a Christian, and now I was considering becoming a backslider too.

But there in the shopping center, at a bench, I made my decision:

No I will not give up, no matter how hard it is!

Even if I will be the only Christian in my family for the rest of my life, still I will follow Jesus!

The heavy weight on my shoulders fell off. The decision was made. It was final. I would walk on the narrow road, and I would never look back.

So did life get easier?

Not yet.

Living with a malicious mother was not easy at all.

I tried to be home as little as possible. It was peaceful when Karen wasn’t home, but when she was, it was like walking on eggshells. When would her next outburst of wrath come? I never knew.

A young person doesn’t always think about asking for help. Certainly I didn’t . But I did tell some of my friends a little here and a little there.

Heidi was such a friend.

-Do you want to talk to the youth pastor about it?, she asked me.

I wasn’t sure. My trust level wasn’t very high, but before I could stop her she had told him, and he came up to me and asked me:

-I hear you have a tough time at home. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn’t too keen, but it was too late to say no, so I followed after him to a room together with 3-4 of my closest friends. The room was empty with only some chairs stacked to a wall. He put the chairs in a circle, and we sat down.

With all eyes on me, I told how mean Karen was to me. It wasn’t long before the tears came. I couldn’t stop it, and I cried and cried while I tried to talk through the sobbing.

He nodded understandingly while he listened, sometimes commenting and shaking his head. My friends listened too.

For the first time in my life I had some hope. Hope that an adult would help me. That he would get Karen to stop yelling at me every day. After all, my youth pastor was a kind Christian. Surely he could do something..

When I was finished, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. He prayed a prayer for me, and when he said amen, he stood up and… …that was it.

My expectations were in free fall. Was there nothing more he would do? Was this all?

As we left the room, he gave me a clap on my shoulder and walked away.

Yes, that was all!

I really appreciated prayers, but I needed more than that.

Please, can someone get her to stop being a devil?

Next time I met him, I felt so embarrassed. It was like showing someone my open wound - and all they did was looking at it, and then walk away.

If I hadn’t lied to my teacher, maybe she would have done something. But I was too scared to tell the truth in front of the class.

So really, I had lots of adult people around me that certainly noticed something was very wrong, like neighbors, teachers and relatives.

But there was one family in particular that was very close to me. A family that I looked to as my second family. One that really knew what was going on;

The Larsen family.

A family that I visited so much I could almost have been their sixth child. Mr and Mrs Larsen had been friends with my parents since before I was born, and their daughter Rebekka was my best friend.

They surely knew, even though I never said anything to them about Karen’s abuse before the summer of 1992, when I was 18 years old.

I asked Mrs. Larsen if I could stay with them that summer because I didn’t want to live in the same house as Karen anymore.

During that summer I told Mrs. Larsen how Karen had attacked me physically just a few weeks before which resulted in a painful bump in my head and even worse, a hurting soul.

She suggested that I should write a letter to Karen and tell her how I felt about it.

And that was all.

Why didn’t she and her husband do anything?

Didn’t they care?

I could not understand.

But as I grew older I realized that the reason that the Larsen family and others didn’t do anything, was pretty obvious.

They would rather protect their backs, and be friends with Karen - then to help ending the abuse.

Like we read in the Bible, in the famous story about the good Samaritan, where both the priest and the Levit turned a blind eye to the beaten wayfarer, and walked on.

Jesus doesn’t want us to be as the Larsen family and others, that turned a blind eye to the abuse they very well knew was going on.

He wants us to be as the good Samaritan, and help the people that suffers abuse, even though this will not make us popular with the abuser.

But when others failed, there was One who cared…

One night as I lay in my bed and felt very sad, I tried to fall asleep and had already closed my eyes.

My bedroom door was slightly open, and the light in the hallway was shining through the opening, so it wasn’t completely dark.

There with my eyes closed, I could see this angel coming in to me. I could only see his contour and he didn’t light up the room either. He quietly came up to me and sat down at my bedside. Gently he stroke my forehead and the peace I felt was a peace that was like nothing of this world. I cannot explain this peace, except God’s peace is free from fear, and it passes all human understanding.

I noticed him leaving again, and I slept peacefully as a child.

God cared, and He wanted to show me that.

I am so thankful that God cares and helps us.

But that does not mean that we should not do our part.

Contrary, we should not turn a blind eye - but be as the good Samaritan, and help people that suffers abuse.

You know, just a small thing like if Mrs. Larsen had asked Karen why I looked so sad, could have meant a world of difference.

Karen would have known that others had noted that something was going on, and would have thought twice before abusing.

Instead, by turning a blind eye, the people around me emboldened Karen to continue.

We should not be like that - We should do as Jesus told us, and help the abused.

-Liv

(In the interest of fairness I should add that the Larsen family for a period in my life did help me with some practical things, like a place to stay for the summer, which I appreciated a lot.)

The year was 1996. I, my husband, and our little son Peter were standing at Arlanda Airport, just outside Stockholm, waiting for the shuttle-bus to take us to the airplane that was going to take us to Moscow.

It was a bit exciting. Our church had a missionary work in the former Soviet, and we were a small group of people that were on our way to visit a young church in the Russian capital.

I looked around. I didn’t know anyone, but hey, I was new in Sweden and it would take a little time to get to know people.

I had already figured out that Swedes didn’t understand my West-Norwegian dialect very well, so I had to learn Swedish fast. Until then, I was mostly quiet, because every time I opened my mouth, they replied:

-Excuse me, what did you say?

As we were standing and waiting, two ladies came up next to me, and as I turned my head to look at them, one of them bluntly said:

-You need to have contact with your mother, Liv.

I was taken aback.

-Who are you?, I replied.

In fluent Norwegian, she said:

- I live in Bergen. I go to the Bible-school there.

(Bergen is Norway’s second largest city.)

She didn’t have to say anything more. I knew exactly what she was talking about. It was the same Bible-school that I had gone to. And it was where Karen lived now, after the divorce from Torleiv, my dad.

- So you know Karen? I asked her.

- Yes, and you know that you must stay in contact with her. She is your mother.

It was incredibly rude. A woman I had never met and that I did not know. Still she knew who I was - and even how I looked like!

Besides, this woman knew nothing about what I had been through as a child and teenager.

She didn’t know that I now enjoyed a new life, without abuse. I had no wish of seeing my abuser, anymore than a rape victim wishes to see the rapist.

She didn’t know that Karen never ever had said the words: -Can you forgive me?, to me.

Not even when she, in pure anger, threw a cup of hot coffee on me, so that the coffee was all over my jumper and my knitting work, did she ask me for forgiveness. I just about managed not to cry, by blinking away the pressing tears.

Still this woman seemed to have swallowed Karen’s victim story and in her “know it all” attitude tells me what is “right” to do.

What on earth is going on? Is Karen spreading lies to half the world about me?

Why? Is this her revenge on me for not taking any more abuse from her?

If she wanted to talk to me, she could call me. She knew my number. No reason to gossip to half the world.

But she never did, of course. Instead of contacting me herself, she seemed to enjoy spreading lies and slander about me to the people around her, and to the friends I once had back in Norway.

What a “lovely” person Karen was…

I mumbled something in self-defense to the women, and walked away, with my little son in my arms, and went in to the shuttle-bus that had arrived.

Karen never approached me personally. She always sent others. Some tried to get me to contact her. Others said that I was unforgiving, and couldn’t move on in life.

In other words, I had to forgive, and then move on.

They were tools in a psychopath’s hand, where the end goal was to get me back under Karen’s control again, so that she could continue, without changing, and I wasn’t allowed to demand anything from her side.

Here is the thing:

There is a difference between true and false people, where some people ask you for forgiveness, and they really mean it.

For others, it is just a weapon, to be able to continue to abuse you. They don’t regret a thing, and are not sorry at all.

The psychopath is such a person.

She/he has no regret, and will very rarely ask for forgiveness.

And in my case, she never did.

But they are clever, so they often use another person, to tell you that you have to forgive!

Forgive whom?

The psychopath! The one that does not regret a thing, but just wants you to forgive, to be able to continue to abuse you.

Karen my abuser, has sent people to tell me that I have to forgive her, and have contact with her, whilst she herself does not regret a thing, and has never asked me for forgiveness. After all, she has done nothing wrong……

By this, I don’t mean that we should be hateful, and have an unforgiving heart - but we shall not let them use the forgiveness weapon, to continue to abuse us.

And there is absolutely no reason to have anything to do with a person, that just wants to hurt you.

The only way to contact, would have been in the unlikely scenario, that the abuser really repents, regrets, changes and asks for forgivness, without expecting to be forgiven - which then has to be verified. After all, they have torn down all trust, and then they have to show that they really, really have changed - not just playing a game.

-Liv

True to the bible instruction, the teaching part of this post is by my husband Emanuel.

I looked at the coin in my hand. It was my treasure.

Gunn, a long time neighbor gave it to me. I played with her daugther every now and then, and one time she gave me this coin. I was really happy when I realised it was all mine.

It was enough for a lolly. My favorite strawberry flavour lolly. Lovingly I put it back in my pocket. I wanted to keep it there until I could buy the lolly.

Later, I and Karen got into the car outside our house. I sat in the front seat. As we were ready to leave, she asked:

-What do you have in your pocket?

- A coin. Gunn gave it to me, I replied innocently.

Whe she heard that her eyes darkened. She really hated Gunn. She often became like a thundercloud when she met her. But for me, Gunn was just the smiling blond lady with lipstick and high heel shoes.

-Give it to me, she said harsly.

-No. It’s mine. She gave it to me, I protested.

I tightened the grip around the coin to protect it.

-You give that coin to me!! Now she was really angry.

I was used to her yelling almost daily, but this time she was almost boiling.

-No, it’s mine!

I did’t want to let go of the coin, it was so precious, and besides, I never got any pocketmoney from Karen even though most of my friends did, which made the coin even more precious to me.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next…

-Out! she said in full wrath.

I just looked at her in disbelief. My eyes wide open.

-Out of the car!! She was almost screaming at me.

Slowly I opened the frontdoor to our silver Toyota and stepped out. I turned and looked at her to see if she would tell me to come in again. But she just leaned over and slammed the door shut, then looking straight ahead she drove away.

She was speeding down the road and out of sight, leaving me behind outside our locked house.

In complete shock and disbelief, I was staring at her disappearing. Then I sank down on a stone outside our house, feeling completely numb on the inside.

She just left me her. What shall I do now?

When the worst shock was over, I started walking around the neighborhood for a while, then I walked back to the house and waited outside…. for how long, I don’t remember…

_____________________________________________________________________

This happened when I was very young. I guess I was around 10 years.

To be thrown out of a car and left alone does something to a child. I felt utterly unloved.

In addition, all her abuse towards me completely numbed all my feelings for her.

As I was thinking at this episode, I suddenly remembered that through all the abuse I didn’t cried - (nor did I tell anyone about the abuse until I became a teenager). And I wondered why it was so.

Then it hit me.

I had to fight to survive. To cry and break down would just not help me anything. I had to try to stay strong even though I felt really, really sad on the inside. And I could not give her the pleasure of seing me hurt and broken, then she would just rub her hands in victory. And I could not afford that in order to survive.

It was the same for my older brother. He was a very angry child. And he took it out on me. Always angry and hitting me whenever it pleased him. It was his way of letting out all the anger he had on the inside because of the abuse he got.

-Liv

The school was closed for a week, and I had planned to travel to my friend Heidi, and I was really looking forward to it.

I walked in to the bank to take out the money I had in my account. It would be enough to pay for the trip, and then I would have some left for food.

The lady behind the counter received the slip with the amount that I wanted to withdraw.

- It doesn't look like you have $75 in your account, she said looking at me.

- I don't?

- But I know I have this amount in my account, I said to her.

I couldn't understand. I knew exactly how much money I had in my account.

It wasn’t much, just some pocketmoney I got by working every other weekend at the gas station.

She looked a little closer, then said;

- I can see that there has been a withdrawal of $45 by your parent. Because of your age, your parents have access to your account.

So that was the reason!

Karen had taken them, and she hadn’t said a word to me about it.

I withdrew the $30 that was left in my account, and walked out. I was extremely frustrated and angry.

For the first time in my life I felt really, really angry with her.

A lot of thoughts flew through my mind.

Why has she taken the money?

I never get any money from her!

I work hard so I can have just a little money, and then she just takes them!

And just when I really needed them too.

That woman is trying to stop me from going!

She knew my trip to Heidi would include going to Church - and for an unknown reason she hated that.

Now I wasn't sure if I had enough money to pay for the trip.

_______

- Give me back my money! I worked hard for them!

The words just flew out of my mouth as soon as I met her.

- You used the phone too much this month, so I took them to pay the bill, she said in her usual cold tone.

- What!?

- That is my money! Give me my money! I need them for my trip to Heidi.

I was really angry, and she noticed it.

She seemed a bit unsure how to respond to me. She had never seen me this angry.

But no matter how much I argued, she still refused to return the money to me.

And in the end I had to give up. I had put up my strongest fight ever, but she was just too strong for me.

Even though she refused to return the money, I refused to let her stop me from going. The $30 was enough to pay for the trip but not for food.

I was so upset that she finally agreed to drive me to the boat. I could barely believe it.

I was too young to understand that by driving me there she had no remorse. It was a tactic to get me to calm down, and get me off her back.

I was still a bit angry when she let me off.

I found myself a seat in the boat, and then I counted the money again. I only had a little money left after paying for the tickets. Maybe enough for a couple of chocolates.

_______

I just loved the time away.

Peace and quiet from all abuse.

Heidi’s mother kindly offered me free food, and I was really thankful. If she hadn’t, I would have been very hungry.

The Church Heidi went to had a special conference week, with meetings every day, which I happily participated in.

I seeked God earnestly from my whole heart, because I felt He was my only helper in this world.

One evening they invited people forward for prayer. I can’t remember for what, but I always needed prayer, so I walked up to the front.

The assistant pastor prayed for me. I could feel God’s presence very strongly.

While he was praying, he said:

- It’s not your fault.

I was like a sponge absobing his words, and I immediatly connected the dots.

Not my fault.

Tears started running down my cheeks.

All the guilt I carried as a heavy load, was not for me to carry.

I had always felt that it was my fault that my family was such a bad family.

That something I did, made me deserve being pecked on every day.

Like using the phone too much, being too rebellious, and then I didn’t bake the cake the right way either.

My very existence, was that my fault too?

God wanted me to understand that it was not my fault at all, it was Karen’s.

And for the very first time in my life I realised that.

God was interested in my life even though I was only 16 years old. He wanted to help me. That was something I had noticed many times and I was so glad He helped me again - showing me this.

I left the Church that night a bit lighter than when I came.

As for the money - I never saw them again, but I saw something much more important;

Nothing was my fault, and I started to understand that there was something very sick with that woman.

______________________________________________________

This is an episode that I have carried with me in particular.

I believe there is one thing that a child or a victim of a psychopath suffers a lot from - and that is guilt.

Is it me?

Is it something I did that is the reason that she is being angry with me all the time?

She was an expert critiziser.

It was programmed in to my very system from a very young age - that everything was my fault.

If you have been through the same, I have a message for you:

It’s not your fault!

- Liv

I want to thank everyone who has subscribed to my Substack.

I really, really appreciate it.

My hope is that you will get something useful out of my posts.

Again, thank you very much for signing up.

Standing inside the gas station, I paid to borrow the phone, and called home.

(This was in the late 80’s and before the time of the mobile phones.)

I dialled the number on the red button phone, and as I listened to the signal, I really, really hoped that it was dad that would answer.

But it wasn’t.

It was Karen!

My heart sank.

-I am at the gas station, can you come and pick me up?

I really hated to ask her, but I had no choice.

The gas station was a good 4 miles from our house.

She was not in a good mood.

- No, I will not pick you up.

-But…

I stood there listening to her. Her words were as hard as her heart.

I tried to explain to her that if she didn’t come, I had to walk home.

It was very late and the last bus had left several hours earlier.

How was I supposed to get home?

But she had made up her mind, and nothing I said changed that.

- No I will not, and then she hung up.

I knew she would be difficult, that was why I was hoping dad would answer. He always came.

But now - what could I do?

I had no choice.

Slowly, I walked out of the gas station, preparing myself for an hour and half walk on a dark country road.

Being independent was something I had been forced to be, since I was a small child.

I often walked alone home from my friend’s house after it had become dark, on a road that went through a small forest.

I remembered I was so scared that I always ran through it as fast as I could, looking straight ahead until I was out on the other side.

There I saw the front door to our apartment on the ground floor. I continued to run, opened the door quickly and slammed it behind me.

I hadn’t even started school yet.

Now some years later, as I walked on this dark country road as a young teenager I didn’t think about the potential dangers. It was very late. I wouldn’t be home before midnight.

I hadn’t been out partying and drinking. I had been to church.

For some reason she hated that. She never ever supported me being a Christian.

Once when I asked her if she rather preferred me being drunk than go to church, she said she preferred me being drunk.

It felt like she did anything to stop me and make me give up. But I only became more determined.

I refused to let her win.

She wanted to crush me and stop me like she had done with my dad, but I was stubborn. I could not, would not, let her destroy me!

This was a problem every weekend, as I went in to the city to go to church.

I lived out on the countryside, around 20 minutes away.

It was a challenge to find a way to get home. My friends parents often picked them up so I asked if I could ride with them.

Most of them lived next to this gas station and it would be a 15 min extra for them to drive me home, and I never asked them to do that.

But If I was lucky, some of them drove me the extra 4 miles from the gas station, home to my house in the countryside.

Every time someone did, I made sure to thank them and offered money if I had.

As I walked in my own thoughts in the darkness, I could see the lights from a car in the distance. As it came closer, I recognized our car.

It slowed down and stopped next to me.

It was dad.

I felt relieved as I opened the door and jumped into the front seat.

I looked at him, and he was clearly upset.

- This is just too wrong, he said, shaking his head.

- I just couldn’t let her do this to you.

Now, my father was not the type who got very easily upset.

He never raised his voice. He was so quiet, he could walk in to a room without anyone noticing, until he stood right next to them.

So even though she had complete control over the only car we had, he managed to “steal” his own car to to pick me up.

When we arrived home, she did not apologize, and I did not expect it either. That was just something she never ever did.

I think she thought she didn’t do anything wrong…

Even though I can’t remember my exact age, I think I was around 15 years old.

What was the reason for her, doing this?

Certainly not love.

When I recalled this episode, I suddenly realized why I remember it so well.

She tried to crush me, and piece by piece break me down until I was completely broken on the inside.

That is a psychopaths ultimate goal.

Just like she had done with my father, who lived like a shadow of himself.

I didn’t know what a mother’s love was. But I sure knew how it was to feel completely worthless and unloved.

-Liv