The need, the desire
With all this how would I move on?
Was it possible to have my life back before all the memories?
How could I move forward with out my mother?
I wasn't sure what the first step would look like or feel like. I was definitely scared of it and all its unknowns.
At this point all I knew was I wanted to move forward and take the control back. I just wasn't sure exactly how to do it. I wanted to make sure that even though legally I couldn't do anything to my brother and the justice system has a time limit for convictions, that this would not go unheard. That it would not be shoved under the rug. That it would never creep back in my life crippling my capabilities like this again.
Blogging! That was my answer. I would tell my story. I would tell it to everyone so they would know. If you are reading this you know all I have been through in the last several months. You know all that I had been thru in my life. An emotionally and mentally abusive, narcissistic mother and a sexually abusive brother, physically and verbally abusive step father, poverty, starvation, neglect... I could keep going.
I was blogging for my mental health. I needed to do something for my physical health. I needed more. Shortly after starting this blog I began to start eating healthier, being more productive, and tracking my weight. Weight has been something I have struggled with sense high school. I went from a tiny size 5 to a size 16-18 in high school. To even larger numbers as an adult. Different medical issues arose making weight loss hard and weight pack on in a blink of an eye. This wasn't going to be easy but I was ready to be the best me I could be.
There I was exploring my new strength, courage and drive to be better. I was over crying and caring about those that didn't care about me. Each blog made me stronger. Each pound dropped made me tougher. I was shinning and ready for whatever this world was going to serve up next..
What I didn't expect was how talking my self up was only undermining and hiding all the inside emotions suppressing them back down. Not really dealing with them. Until one night driving down the road they hit me like a freight train.
Why do I still love her? Why do I want her to love me?
Why of all the mothers in the world did I get her? Was this the childhood I deserved?
I starved, having school lunch sometimes my only meal. I flushed toilets with pound water. I went with out electricity. I went with out clean clothes. We lived in filth of garbage and animal feces all over everything. I went with out basic love and affection. I was molested by my brother. I was molested by my brothers friend. I was physically and verbally abused by my step father. Mentally and emotionally neglected and abused by my mother... Why me?
And why did I still love the women, my mother, who let all those things happen to me?
Her love was never real. Her love was fake and self centered.
She was undeserving of all her children's love. I knew I wasn't the only one who still loved her.
Blessed with sisters who love me I called mine. With whom I was able to share all my emotional tears and thoughts with. I was not alone. I needed her and she was there for me. She was one who deserved my love.
After going thru that break down I sat there and thought about why it was so important to me to stop loving her, stop thinking of her, and wanting to erase her all together. I was desperate for that. I wanted it so badly.
but then I noticed.... That isn't what I wanted at all. See the thing was, I was writing and telling everyone here what happened to me. I was getting it all out. People were responding to my blogs with love and support. Some were even finding strength and courage to face their own hardships.
I was looking for her. I wanted her to say something. Something comforting. Something motherly. I wanted her to know everything and I wanted her to come to me. Hold me. Love me!
I never got to really tell my mom all that happened to me. I never got to get it out. All I was able to tell her was "I was molested by your son", which she walked away and said nothing more then she needed a therapist. After that it was a conversation on Facebook, where again she didn't say anything more then trying to turn it all on me and her son in law. Then she ended it with saying she is "done with all of you."
She got to say she was done? NO. I wasn't okay with that. How dare her? Why did she get to make the choice to be done? She didn't even know the half of it.
So she got to run away from it. Move on. Live her life not knowing ANYTHING.
She abandoned her daughters. She turned her back on us.
She changed her phone number. She did holiday events with my brother and his kids and posted them all over Facebook. Kinda like a big old FUCK YOU! right to my face.
All I want to do at this point is scream in her face I LOVE YOU but FUCK YOU TOO.
I hope to find my healing one day. I know it will get better in time. Slowly but surely.
I will one day have my last word. I will have my confrontation with my mother and my brother.
He may deny it to the world but he will hear me tell him what he already knows he did.
Was it possible to have my life back before all the memories?
How could I move forward with out my mother?
I wasn't sure what the first step would look like or feel like. I was definitely scared of it and all its unknowns.
At this point all I knew was I wanted to move forward and take the control back. I just wasn't sure exactly how to do it. I wanted to make sure that even though legally I couldn't do anything to my brother and the justice system has a time limit for convictions, that this would not go unheard. That it would not be shoved under the rug. That it would never creep back in my life crippling my capabilities like this again.
Blogging! That was my answer. I would tell my story. I would tell it to everyone so they would know. If you are reading this you know all I have been through in the last several months. You know all that I had been thru in my life. An emotionally and mentally abusive, narcissistic mother and a sexually abusive brother, physically and verbally abusive step father, poverty, starvation, neglect... I could keep going.
I was blogging for my mental health. I needed to do something for my physical health. I needed more. Shortly after starting this blog I began to start eating healthier, being more productive, and tracking my weight. Weight has been something I have struggled with sense high school. I went from a tiny size 5 to a size 16-18 in high school. To even larger numbers as an adult. Different medical issues arose making weight loss hard and weight pack on in a blink of an eye. This wasn't going to be easy but I was ready to be the best me I could be.
There I was exploring my new strength, courage and drive to be better. I was over crying and caring about those that didn't care about me. Each blog made me stronger. Each pound dropped made me tougher. I was shinning and ready for whatever this world was going to serve up next..
What I didn't expect was how talking my self up was only undermining and hiding all the inside emotions suppressing them back down. Not really dealing with them. Until one night driving down the road they hit me like a freight train.
Why do I still love her? Why do I want her to love me?
Why of all the mothers in the world did I get her? Was this the childhood I deserved?
I starved, having school lunch sometimes my only meal. I flushed toilets with pound water. I went with out electricity. I went with out clean clothes. We lived in filth of garbage and animal feces all over everything. I went with out basic love and affection. I was molested by my brother. I was molested by my brothers friend. I was physically and verbally abused by my step father. Mentally and emotionally neglected and abused by my mother... Why me?
And why did I still love the women, my mother, who let all those things happen to me?
Her love was never real. Her love was fake and self centered.
She was undeserving of all her children's love. I knew I wasn't the only one who still loved her.
Blessed with sisters who love me I called mine. With whom I was able to share all my emotional tears and thoughts with. I was not alone. I needed her and she was there for me. She was one who deserved my love.
After going thru that break down I sat there and thought about why it was so important to me to stop loving her, stop thinking of her, and wanting to erase her all together. I was desperate for that. I wanted it so badly.
but then I noticed.... That isn't what I wanted at all. See the thing was, I was writing and telling everyone here what happened to me. I was getting it all out. People were responding to my blogs with love and support. Some were even finding strength and courage to face their own hardships.
I was looking for her. I wanted her to say something. Something comforting. Something motherly. I wanted her to know everything and I wanted her to come to me. Hold me. Love me!
I never got to really tell my mom all that happened to me. I never got to get it out. All I was able to tell her was "I was molested by your son", which she walked away and said nothing more then she needed a therapist. After that it was a conversation on Facebook, where again she didn't say anything more then trying to turn it all on me and her son in law. Then she ended it with saying she is "done with all of you."
She got to say she was done? NO. I wasn't okay with that. How dare her? Why did she get to make the choice to be done? She didn't even know the half of it.
So she got to run away from it. Move on. Live her life not knowing ANYTHING.
She abandoned her daughters. She turned her back on us.
She changed her phone number. She did holiday events with my brother and his kids and posted them all over Facebook. Kinda like a big old FUCK YOU! right to my face.
All I want to do at this point is scream in her face I LOVE YOU but FUCK YOU TOO.
I hope to find my healing one day. I know it will get better in time. Slowly but surely.
I will one day have my last word. I will have my confrontation with my mother and my brother.
He may deny it to the world but he will hear me tell him what he already knows he did.
A mother’s love is something all children crave...even those who have been given the most unloving and neglectful ones. I have always tried to understand why those abused children continue to seek that love even as adults...but have never figured it out. Just know you are not alone.
ReplyDeleteAs for your brother escaping what is due him legally...you can still call the county sheriff’s office and talk to an intake worker. I did that when L told me about the abuse by his bio dad in Washington. Even though the statute of limitations was up a deputy talked to me, when and spoke with the sperm donor, and then came and told me that he had no doubt the ‘allegations’ were true...and shared that others had also reported abuse. So while nothing legal was done, at least the asshat knows that his abuse is documented and he is on the radar for future reports! That at least gave me a small feeling of success.
This post is powerful <3
ReplyDelete