The smallest acts of kindness make a world of difference.
((I finally figured out how to draw Perry. About time, yeesh.))
There is a wonderful girl I met named Maia.
Maia is 23 years old and she has a good talent for art. She is a bit naïve, but kind hearted and an overall sweet person.
Maia is being abused.
Her mother has been belittling her, making her feel hopeless, afraid, useless, even suicidal at times. And worse still, she is trying to keep Maia from leaving while using emotional blackmail against her to frighten her in to staying and doing everything she is told.
Nearly every single day she is constantly hounded, insulted, lied to, and manipulated. I and many other people have heard this live, as Maia has been secretly recording the things her mother has been saying to her and some of us have the misfortune of hearing more of this abuse on sykpe audio or livestreams.
Recently, many kind people have donated to help Maia get out of her situation, and she finally has enough to make the first step.
But as abuse goes, her mother, despite constantly telling her she’s useless and doesn’t “deserve” to live in that household, is trying to keep her hostage in her own home. What’s worse is, the original plan that she had looks like it might not be as stable as we hoped.
So I am asking now that people PLEASE spread this out, and if anyone in Texas (More specifically the Dallas area) would be willing to give Maia a safe place to stay until she can manage a more stable plan, it would be forever appreciated. She needs a place to go by mid-December and she only needs to stay perhaps 3 months at most until things can be settled properly. It likely wont be that long though, but this is just until she can find a better location.
What can be offered in return would be up to 200-300$ per month that she can lend for rent, and she can also offer her artwork as payment if necessary. (I am currently setting up to move myself, but once I have moved I will be willing to provide a bit of extra money for her each month if she needs it)
If you can help Maia in any way, please contact http://tardispony.tumblr.com/
I know this is a big deal, and I know it’s sudden. But I also know that in this fandom, I have seen a lot of miracles happen and I want more than anything to see this one happen.
Hell, maybe I’ll even find a reason to like Christmas this year.
Personal note: I think one of the biggest warning flags to abuse is the utter fear of disappointing the abuser. Parent or spouse or even friend, this is not a healthy feeling. I have come to realize there is a vast difference between not wanting to disappoint someone, and being terrified of disappointing them.
If you find yourself being scared of making your loved one angry or suicidal even over the slightest of mistakes… It might be a good idea to try and really look at the situation and figure out who is really in the wrong.
I used to be scared of so many things. Scared of waking up late, scared of forgetting my phone when I went out, scared of hanging out with the wrong person… I practically had to ask permission to go anywhere at any point. For 3 years of my life there was never a moment where he didn’t know where I was, and I had no idea how horrible that actually was because I tricked myself in to thinking he was ‘just worried about me’. It got so bad that I actually had to make a secret life for myself, pretend I was asleep while I escaped to another messenger, claim I was going to the store when I wanted to see a friend… Because any moment I was awake and at home, I was his, with only sleep and bathroom as permitted reasons to leave, and those were ‘timed’.
….After a while though, even the privacy of bathroom was taken away from me.
Sorry for the ramble, it’s the first time I’ve been able to confess this.
Personal note: I’m not entirely sure how to fully put this in to words, but I’ll try.
When I was trapped in my abuse, I felt very disconnected from others. And one reason was because I felt ashamed of myself. Ashamed of what they would see of me, of what little I had to offer. I felt like I was dirty, somehow, and as much as I wanted to reach out and have friends, I felt too ashamed of myself to open up to others.
Whatever I presented to them just felt like a sick lie.
Goodie box. Not best place for clothes.
((Had a guest artist for this set: http://showtimewithwhooves.tumblr.com/ ))
Personal note: Approaching a victim of abuse who has stockholm syndrome is a difficult road to take. They are so used to being told they are wrong that they push people away, even if those people are trying to help. Rather than telling a victim what to do, you need to assure them that you understand them and have concern for them. You need to let them feel like they have free choice around you, because they don’t often get freedom any other way. It must be made clear that you have their well being in mind, so being kind and understanding helps them feel more secure than if someone just right out told them what they should and shouldn’t do.
Personal note: When you’ve been used for so long, sometimes you think being used is the only value you have left.
More information has been added to the help page.
There are often cases where people may be abusive without understanding that’s what it is. Do you find yourself being jealous, or find the need to know where your partner is all the time? Do you feel scared of being abandoned and do what you think is needed to make sure it doesn’t happen? Do you feel your partner is not dedicating themselves enough to your relationship?
If you answered yes to any of these, you may need to double check and see if you are being abusive.
Perhaps you know someone who is abusive, but aren’t sure how to talk to them? Or maybe you have a friend being abused, but you can’t seem to get through to them. Did you know friendships can also be abusive?
These new links should help you.
What to do when a partner says you are abusive (for women)
Help/Information for abusers (Ways to break the habit of abuse)
Personal note: I used to be afraid of hugs. I was so scared of being hurt that I locked up any time anyone hugged me. I didn’t know what was real or not, who cared and who was pretend, or even if hugs had any meaning any more.
But there was a point where I broke down, because I forgot what it was like to be hugged. Really hugged. To feel safe in someone’s arms and trust them enough to let them hold me. As much as I was afraid of it, I didn’t know just how badly I needed it.