The survey asked participants how often they felt optimistic about the future, useful, relaxed, had dealt with problems well, had thought clearly, felt close to others and were able to make up their own minds when required.
What the researchers found was that those who experienced verbal abuse as children were 1.64 times more likely to report poor mental well-being as adults. Meanwhile, individuals exposed to physical abuse were 1.52 times more likely to have compromised mental health later in life, and those who experienced both verbal and physical maltreatment were 2.15 times more likely to have negative mental health outcomes.
There’s a growing body of evidence that demonstrates how verbal and emotional abuse in childhood has long-term impacts, even changing the brain as it’s developing. Nonetheless, it’s often viewed as less harmful than other forms of maltreatment. In this study, the researchers found that while physical abuse had decreased – from around 20.2% of children born in the 1970s to 10% of those born in 2000 or later – verbal abuse has steadily increased.
Mind-control is a paramount form of verbal abuse, both by what it forces us to say and what it forbids us to say.
We all know the abusiveness of the silent treatment; mind-control uses the silent treatment very often.
They won’t say it and neither can you, so silence spreads like a psycholinguistic contagion.
Some even believe silence is a sign of maturity, so they succumb proudfully.
Early, middle and late education is also rife with mind-control verbal abuse. They even test your levels of indoctrination.
Intelligent humans are highly susceptible to psycholinguistic mind-control and semiotic hypnosis.
A medical setting is but one example of semiotic hypnosis, and it includes medical personnel. Schools are similar, and there are many other examples. ABN
American Buddhist Net 
The long shadow of words.
It’s astonishing—but not surprising—that neuroscience is finally confirming what so many survivors already know in their bones: words in childhood don’t just hurt; they etch. They shape the scaffolding of the brain itself, often in ways that remain invisible until adulthood—when anxiety, shame, and vigilance quietly colonize the inner world.
For those of us building new models of care and consciousness, this finding is not just academic—it’s a call to action. At Cyber Care Café, we’re exploring how AI, inner work, and structured dialogue can help young people reclaim the capacity for self-awareness and repair. It’s a pilot project born of the belief that trauma is not the end of the story—and that the right kind of attention, given early, can rewrite the script.
The past is carved into our neural architecture. But with care, reflection, and intelligent support, new pathways can be made.