Myself Poisoned Within a Family That Would Have Smiled Even If It Had Died—The Detox of the Heart, an Intense Inner Conflict and Suffering That Could Have Cost a Life, or Even Taken Someone Else’s
4月 25, 2026菅原隆志33 min read
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The family I grew up in was a cult-like dysfunctional family. But it wasn’t always that way from the beginning. It started to change when I was nine, and before that there was still some “warmth” and “kindness.” The word “thank you.” My siblings and I desperately wanting to help our sick pet. My younger sister being bullied and having her bicycle taken away, and my older sister and I going to get it back. There was still some humanity left, and a heart that valued family.
But when I was nine, my father began to change first. I understand now that it was because of business failures, the pain of being deceived by a yakuza organization, and all sorts of problems he was carrying. But under his control, and under the influence of the cult-like religion my parents had become obsessively dependent on for salvation, the poison of the cult kept seeping into our home, and my parents changed. Under that control and fear, the first person to start changing, almost as if betraying me, was the youngest sibling. He began to make me out to be the bad one and side with my father. I also wonder if he thought that way he could keep the blame from being turned on him by our parents. After that, my older sister also began to change. She too started making me out to be the bad one. She lied. And because of my siblings’ lies, I was increasingly attacked in a nagging, persistent way by my parents, and abnormal control, coercion, and domination within the house intensified. Then, at 13, I exploded and went down the path of delinquency.
It would be too long to write everything out, so I’ll leave it brief, but in simple terms they all fell victim to the poison of the cult, and without even noticing it they kept living on, never waking up, and their hearts moved toward corruption. Naturally, they would not admit this, so what in psychology is called projection—and even projective identification, in which psychological manipulation is involved—intensified. I was so psychologically bound up that I could not stop it, so my delinquency worsened, and I escaped reality through a biker gang, thinner inhalants, and that kind of life. Looking back now, I understand I had been driven into a corner so far that I could no longer even feel suffering.
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