I Have Lived In Fear For Most of My Life
I am really unsure where to begin. Do I start at the beginning or do I start from the here and now?...
I have spent a lot of my life being angry at those who have hurt me. My step-father being at the top of the list.
The person who deserves the blame though, the person who should have protected me and cared for me, was my mother. I was angry with her. For the longest time, I was hateful toward her. As I grew older, I decided to attempt to forgive. After all, she did the best she could. Right?! This attempt at truce never worked out well. It was always me biting my tongue and being forced to accept her as was, rather than her ever attempt to fix herself or own up to the fact she did anything wrong.
My family backing her up...
" That is just how your mom is."
I realize, as I write this, how utterly absurd that is. ...
In truth, we do have to make a choice. Accept those we love as they are or don't. The key issue with this being: we are not obligated to accept that which crosses the line. We do not have to accept the behavior of those who hurt us. We do not have to accept being treated badly or unfairly. We do not have to accept these things in order to be a good person. Not accepting them does not make us somehow awful or wrong.
So...I moved away from home.( ok..it was more like running...swift and fast)Moved back. Moved away again. Moved back again...thinking this would be the last time and then my husband lost his job. ( He fucked up but that is a story for another time) This was not the last move. One more time away from my home town and back up north, 4 hours away.
I have never lived this down. I constantly hear how I do nothing for her. Not just from her but my aunt. This week at home was no exception.
Now I sit here and think of all the things I should have said.
" I am sorry you think that I do not do enough for my mom, I think I did more than enough as a child by protecting her while she neglected to protect me"
" I am sorry you think I should live here, I wont ever again."
"Fuck you and you"
My mother married 3 times. First was an alcoholic and verbally abusive. He is my brother's father. Second was my father. My father physically abused her, lied to her and while she was pregnant with me he beat her and left her for dead ...her kidneys were failing she wanted his help..he left. Took my brother to a bar and left him there alone age 10. My mother drove herself to the hospital and had she been 3 minutes later we both would be dead. My stepfather....
You guessed it...An abusive alcoholic.
She never dated a man who did not hurt her. Not according to what my aunt has told me.
She knew who and what my stepfather was before she married him and she did it anyway... Under a promise he would not drink anymore.
He lied.
Before they married he threw bricks at her bedroom window...above where she and I slept. I remember her going out with her best friend and leaving me with my brother. They would come back and talk all about their night. Fighting in bars with other women and with my soon to be step-father. My mothers best friend knew. She hated him. She told her ...she warned her. My mother did not listen.
They married and we moved. He drank. He beat her. She would yell for me to call my aunt. I did not know the number. He pulled the phone from the wall.
I was woken in the night to get in the car and go searchbfor him at bars.
I was never comforted.
Not after watching her be beaten senseless.
Not after driving all over town in the middle of the night. I was simply brought home and put back to bed or told to go to bed.
I am going to say that again: I was never comforted. I was terrified...but dont recall crying much.
Now I know why.
Crying did not serve its purpose. I did not get the comfort that I should have.
I remember this being the thing that indicated I was a good child.
I was quiet. Did not cry. I behaved. Was polite.
I took care of myself from a pretty young age.
Spent summer days home by myself. 8 years old I believe. 2nd grade?...maybe.
I find myself touting this as normal. " I was home alone as a kid and I turned out fine"
I am not fine.
She did not teach me to cook. Never told me what to eat or not to eat..she never asked if I ate.
My only rule was not to leave the house and not to open the door to anyone or have any friends over.
I was expected to play quietly and never did she play with me. Her best friend did. I spent a lot of time with her.
I think the outside people who gave me attention are the reason I was able to get this far in life without discovering the damage that my mother did and the damage she allowed.
She wont accept any blame or fault.
She did the best she could...
No.
She did not.
She lived on her own before him. She worked. But somehow the reason she never left was ME. I needed a roof over my head.
What I learned this week was that she never asked for help or told anyone in the family
she was being abused.
My aunt asked me why I never called.
Me.
I was a fucking child.
When I was older I believe my mom told me no one knew. I am not sure why I continued not to tell them. I have no idea. And apparently I blocked it out because, it shocked me when my brother and aunt both said they had no idea. As I have run over these things the last few days ...many things are registering. I am recalling a lot I had pushed aside.
This leads me to the conclusion my mom stayed for her own comfort. Too afraid to be alone again. Not because of me.
Frankly, the older I got the more I told her to leave.
" Why don't we leave mom?"
" Mom..you need to divorce him"
"Mom. I dont want to live here I'd rather be homeless"
She left...after I was grown and out of the house. This only served to back her reasoning. The truth is, she was afraid. While I get this.. I can no longer forgive her for it.
Not after seeing how she acted toward me when I blew the can of worms open with my aunt there. Refusing to speak. She would not look at me.
This is why she wanted me to leave. I talked about things she did not want talked about. I made her feel bad.
I did not accept her reasons for not leaving and for putting me through that hell.
It is one thing( crazy as it is) to continue to stay out of fear.. but to not only put youself there ...and to subject your child due to your own fears. To use that child as the reason...
No.
Not acceptable.
She hid this because she knew they would tell her to leave. She knew they would want me out of there. Especially my uncles and grandfather.
These same people now believe I am awful to my mother. I am mean to her.
I fucking protected her for my entire childhood.
No one protected me.
Today in therapy I learned that the struggles I have in relationships are not my anxiety. They are not my depression. Kickboxing, excercise, anxiety medication...while all good .. won't fix my personal struggles.
Why?
My mother neglected me. She damaged my attachment bonding.
When she was beaten and I watched terrified. When I was unable to stop him. When I could not call the police or my aunt.. I was traumatised..and after...it was swept under a rug. I do not recall her ever comforting me, talking to me about it. I needed that comfort, reassurance. I needed to know my sole caregiver was there for me to protect me.
She was not.
So.. I am incapable of trust.
I am incapable of self- care.
Self-soothing.
Children who are severely abused or orphans...they can suffer something called reactive attachment disorder.
I am suffering from the same... among other things. I now believe the anxiety and depression and the rest of the list of things wrong with me all stem from this. My inability to stop the cycle in relationships that I have gotten into has caused me to question myself and my sanity. It has cost me people I loved.
(some were actually truly assholes though)
At this moment this disorder threatens to cost me, who I believe to be, my future. It threatens to cost me a good relationship with my own children.
My children are the reason that I am still here. They are what keeps me going and what drives me to be better. I cannot let them suffer as I did. They have not...but they have witnessed things I wish they never had. I am glad I am capable and strong enough that I care for my children entirely different than my mother. But I see ....If I continue I will be just like her.
That future...that man...he is the reason I am searching for answers. He is the reason I made the leap I never made before. To seek help. To find myself. To fix myself. He can't be expected to deal with my insecurities though. No one could or should. He can support me and encourage me.. and he does. I am not sure that I can say that I have shown him just how much he is appreciated. How I do see the things he has done. I am going to work damn hard to make sure I change this.
When I said I was starved...I had no idea how true that was.
Now it is time to feed myself.
I have spent a lot of my life being angry at those who have hurt me. My step-father being at the top of the list.
The person who deserves the blame though, the person who should have protected me and cared for me, was my mother. I was angry with her. For the longest time, I was hateful toward her. As I grew older, I decided to attempt to forgive. After all, she did the best she could. Right?! This attempt at truce never worked out well. It was always me biting my tongue and being forced to accept her as was, rather than her ever attempt to fix herself or own up to the fact she did anything wrong.
My family backing her up...
" That is just how your mom is."
I realize, as I write this, how utterly absurd that is. ...
In truth, we do have to make a choice. Accept those we love as they are or don't. The key issue with this being: we are not obligated to accept that which crosses the line. We do not have to accept the behavior of those who hurt us. We do not have to accept being treated badly or unfairly. We do not have to accept these things in order to be a good person. Not accepting them does not make us somehow awful or wrong.
So...I moved away from home.( ok..it was more like running...swift and fast)Moved back. Moved away again. Moved back again...thinking this would be the last time and then my husband lost his job. ( He fucked up but that is a story for another time) This was not the last move. One more time away from my home town and back up north, 4 hours away.
I have never lived this down. I constantly hear how I do nothing for her. Not just from her but my aunt. This week at home was no exception.
Now I sit here and think of all the things I should have said.
" I am sorry you think that I do not do enough for my mom, I think I did more than enough as a child by protecting her while she neglected to protect me"
" I am sorry you think I should live here, I wont ever again."
"Fuck you and you"
My mother married 3 times. First was an alcoholic and verbally abusive. He is my brother's father. Second was my father. My father physically abused her, lied to her and while she was pregnant with me he beat her and left her for dead ...her kidneys were failing she wanted his help..he left. Took my brother to a bar and left him there alone age 10. My mother drove herself to the hospital and had she been 3 minutes later we both would be dead. My stepfather....
You guessed it...An abusive alcoholic.
She never dated a man who did not hurt her. Not according to what my aunt has told me.
She knew who and what my stepfather was before she married him and she did it anyway... Under a promise he would not drink anymore.
He lied.
Before they married he threw bricks at her bedroom window...above where she and I slept. I remember her going out with her best friend and leaving me with my brother. They would come back and talk all about their night. Fighting in bars with other women and with my soon to be step-father. My mothers best friend knew. She hated him. She told her ...she warned her. My mother did not listen.
They married and we moved. He drank. He beat her. She would yell for me to call my aunt. I did not know the number. He pulled the phone from the wall.
I was woken in the night to get in the car and go searchbfor him at bars.
I was never comforted.
Not after watching her be beaten senseless.
Not after driving all over town in the middle of the night. I was simply brought home and put back to bed or told to go to bed.
I am going to say that again: I was never comforted. I was terrified...but dont recall crying much.
Now I know why.
Crying did not serve its purpose. I did not get the comfort that I should have.
I remember this being the thing that indicated I was a good child.
I was quiet. Did not cry. I behaved. Was polite.
I took care of myself from a pretty young age.
Spent summer days home by myself. 8 years old I believe. 2nd grade?...maybe.
I find myself touting this as normal. " I was home alone as a kid and I turned out fine"
I am not fine.
She did not teach me to cook. Never told me what to eat or not to eat..she never asked if I ate.
My only rule was not to leave the house and not to open the door to anyone or have any friends over.
I was expected to play quietly and never did she play with me. Her best friend did. I spent a lot of time with her.
I think the outside people who gave me attention are the reason I was able to get this far in life without discovering the damage that my mother did and the damage she allowed.
She wont accept any blame or fault.
She did the best she could...
No.
She did not.
She lived on her own before him. She worked. But somehow the reason she never left was ME. I needed a roof over my head.
What I learned this week was that she never asked for help or told anyone in the family
she was being abused.
My aunt asked me why I never called.
Me.
I was a fucking child.
When I was older I believe my mom told me no one knew. I am not sure why I continued not to tell them. I have no idea. And apparently I blocked it out because, it shocked me when my brother and aunt both said they had no idea. As I have run over these things the last few days ...many things are registering. I am recalling a lot I had pushed aside.
This leads me to the conclusion my mom stayed for her own comfort. Too afraid to be alone again. Not because of me.
Frankly, the older I got the more I told her to leave.
" Why don't we leave mom?"
" Mom..you need to divorce him"
"Mom. I dont want to live here I'd rather be homeless"
She left...after I was grown and out of the house. This only served to back her reasoning. The truth is, she was afraid. While I get this.. I can no longer forgive her for it.
Not after seeing how she acted toward me when I blew the can of worms open with my aunt there. Refusing to speak. She would not look at me.
This is why she wanted me to leave. I talked about things she did not want talked about. I made her feel bad.
I did not accept her reasons for not leaving and for putting me through that hell.
It is one thing( crazy as it is) to continue to stay out of fear.. but to not only put youself there ...and to subject your child due to your own fears. To use that child as the reason...
No.
Not acceptable.
She hid this because she knew they would tell her to leave. She knew they would want me out of there. Especially my uncles and grandfather.
These same people now believe I am awful to my mother. I am mean to her.
I fucking protected her for my entire childhood.
No one protected me.
Today in therapy I learned that the struggles I have in relationships are not my anxiety. They are not my depression. Kickboxing, excercise, anxiety medication...while all good .. won't fix my personal struggles.
Why?
My mother neglected me. She damaged my attachment bonding.
When she was beaten and I watched terrified. When I was unable to stop him. When I could not call the police or my aunt.. I was traumatised..and after...it was swept under a rug. I do not recall her ever comforting me, talking to me about it. I needed that comfort, reassurance. I needed to know my sole caregiver was there for me to protect me.
She was not.
So.. I am incapable of trust.
I am incapable of self- care.
Self-soothing.
Children who are severely abused or orphans...they can suffer something called reactive attachment disorder.
I am suffering from the same... among other things. I now believe the anxiety and depression and the rest of the list of things wrong with me all stem from this. My inability to stop the cycle in relationships that I have gotten into has caused me to question myself and my sanity. It has cost me people I loved.
(some were actually truly assholes though)
At this moment this disorder threatens to cost me, who I believe to be, my future. It threatens to cost me a good relationship with my own children.
My children are the reason that I am still here. They are what keeps me going and what drives me to be better. I cannot let them suffer as I did. They have not...but they have witnessed things I wish they never had. I am glad I am capable and strong enough that I care for my children entirely different than my mother. But I see ....If I continue I will be just like her.
That future...that man...he is the reason I am searching for answers. He is the reason I made the leap I never made before. To seek help. To find myself. To fix myself. He can't be expected to deal with my insecurities though. No one could or should. He can support me and encourage me.. and he does. I am not sure that I can say that I have shown him just how much he is appreciated. How I do see the things he has done. I am going to work damn hard to make sure I change this.
When I said I was starved...I had no idea how true that was.
Now it is time to feed myself.
