I've been avoiding things the last few
months. By not writing on this page and trying to put on a brave
face—pushing through my memories—I've been avoiding what my head
is trying to work through. I can lie to myself and say that it's
because I'm busy, I have projects to finish. My workload is
increasing, ect. That's not the case, I'm simply sick of dealing with
all this mental stuff. Basically I'm sick of being sick, but avoiding
makes things worse. The last few days I have felt my mood declining,
and I know I'm heading for a big crash if I don't do something.
Enough excuses, here we go!
What has been on my mind? Well, with a
good portion of my big traumatic events sorted through a lot of
little stuff has been coming up. Things my mom used to do to me under
the mask of being a fun playful mom, paired with dreams of me
screaming at her that this stuff is not okay. No exaggeration, I have
woken up screaming at her. That is not something I do when I sleep or
have nightmares. Generally I wake up, slow and easy even from a bad
dream. I don't jolt awake or scream as I come to, this is a new thing
for me and it's a bit unsettling. Sleep used to be my escape, people
didn't mess with me while I was sleeping or at least I could pretend
they didn't. While asleep I had my own world that I could control.
It's where my creative mind takes form, and to have it disrupted this
last year is upsetting for me. I'm not sure how to function in a
place where my waking hours are better than my asleep ones. It's like
having your security stripped away from you in the most trying moment
of your life. I'm off balance because of it, but moving on.
The last month or two little things
have been popping up in my head. Randomly, of course, while I'm
listening to the radio or watching My Cat From Hell. No real
reason or method to this madness. Memories simply come up, and I
force myself to share them with my husband for one big reason. I want
to make sure I'm not mental.
What I mean by that is Dani, my mom, is
a narcissistic and very good at making me feel like I'm a complete
nut-job. Like everything that happens to me is my fault, and I'm
trying to skirt responsibility by being offended or hurt when say I
was molested in my sleep by a grown man. With Dani it's never her
fault or anyone else, it's mine. I'm to blame 150% of the time, and
up until a few years ago I firmly believed that. As I understood the
world, all the shitty things that happened to me: Having a boyfriend
that verbally/emotionally abused me and cheated, my so called friends
using me as a verbal punching bag, Dani's boyfriends sexually
assaulting me, the fact I never had any money though Dani often took
it all; was all my fault. My world was shitty because I—Me,
myself—was an awful person. Those who know me now will say this is
not the case, and I still wonder how I came from such a self-absorbed
family being as thoughtful and caring as I am.
I still struggle with apologizing for
everything, just ask my husband. I say I'm sorry about things so far
beyond my control it's insane, but that is how I was raised. To feel
guilt about everything bad in Dani's life so she wouldn't have to be
held responsible. So when I remember these little things—these
moments of her being a pure bully—I want to make sure I'm not over
dramatizing what happened. Thus I share it with my husband, and if he
says it's fucked up. I know it's fucked up. So far not a single thing
I have shared with him hasn't been fucked up, so what does that say
about my childhood? That right when I think it can't get any worse,
it does? Or that I was so blinded by my love for the woman whom gave
birth to me, and society's ideal that mother's are to be worshiped,
that I allowed all this to happen unchallenged?
Really, when it comes right down to it,
either reason is fucked as hell. Now, I'm going to share with you
some of these moments—memories—little things that Dani used to do
when I was a child, and sometimes even after I grew up. Look at these
moments, these small little events and I hope you have none of them
in your life because they are just as harmful as the big things.
* I have a fear of 9V batteries, even
to this day. I love the fact not many things use 9Vs anymore, and
wish they would disappear completely because Dani would make me lick
them. Some of you might not know what I'm talking about, but the two
prongs on the battery if you stick your tongue to both of them you
will get a nasty shock. Dani used to make me do this to get a laugh.
Often she was at parties with her friends, or at a local bar one of
her friends owned. Randomly they would start having a good laugh and
Dani would says, “watch this!” Then call me over to put my tongue
on the 9V. I hated doing it, and when I refused she would use her
'mom' voice. The one that said I was going to be in trouble if I
didn't get over there and put my tongue to the battery. She did this
so often that even now I won't get near the business end of a 9V. I
hate changing the one in my clock and will often pass it off to my
husband to do. I also have a big fear of a electrical currents in
general because of this. My mother used me as a party trick, how
nice.
*I was slapped in the face with a fish.
Yes, a fish. A real, live, fish. Every summer for five years or so we
visited my grandfather and extended family. My grandfather is BIG
into fishing, and the best part about the visit was going out on the
lake on grandpa's boat. I love to fish, but Dani put this fear into
me that fish will hurt you if you touch them. That the fins will cut
your hand open so damn bad, so taking the fish off the hook or
touching them. . . Yeah, not doing that! After a weekend of fishing
Dani wanted to get a picture of me and my siblings holding the fish
we caught. At this point they had been in the fridge for a day or
two, not yet gutted, but very much dead! I refused to hold the fish,
I was too scared. My brother and sister didn't have any problem
because Dani didn't scare them to death about the deadly fins. It
went into a long draw out thing, me in tears with Dani thrusting the
fish at me. I refused one too many times and that fish flew across my
face. Yes, I was fish-slapped. I was shocked, Dani thought it was
funny as hell. She laughed, so did my brother and sister. Because
people were laughing with her, Dani kept slapping me with the fish
until I finally mustered up the courage to take the damn thing. I
figured I ran more risk of getting hurt being slapped with the fish
than holding it. Dani took the picture with me crying and red cheeks
from being slapped around, and till this day I still won't touch a
fish.
*Making me chase the car, I hate this.
Yeah, in movies it's kind of funny but when your mom does it to you,
all the freaking time! Not cool. You know how it goes, kid gets out
of the car to drop something off. On the way back they reach for the
door and mom pulls the car forward a little. Each time they go to
reach for the door the car movies a little more. She did this once or
twice to my brother and sister, but they would start crying so she
stopped doing it to them. Me, on the other hand, it never mattered if
I cried—walked off in anger—or dropped my head in defeat. She
would make me chase that damn car for a block if my siblings kept
laughing. Sometimes I even had to open the door and jump in while the
car was moving. She would do this in front of my school on the rare
occasion she would pick me up. In front of my friends, as if I wasn't
enough of a dork. It was all for laughs, and if I got upset or pissy
then I got in trouble—yelled at for having emotions or feeling
hurt—humiliated. One time I even was being a grumpy kid ( I don't
remember why but I was about 12), she made me get out of the car in
the middle of downtown. I started crying when she threatened to leave
me and come back when she was done visiting her friend. I told her I
didn't care, being the mad kid I was at the time (she did something
to upset, and I was just throwing a fit. Which never happened often).
Instead of deal with my fit or letting me cry it out, Dani pulled
away and left me there in the middle of downtown on a Saturday. A 12
year old kid, alone, in a city crying. She didn't come back for over
twenty minutes after she went to her friends house to drop something
off. Afterwards when she picked me up she wanted to lighten the mood
by making me chase the car. I pouted the whole way home.
*I'm a square. Dani called me that at a
party with a ton of popular kids from my school. Kids that would have
no problem mocking me for the next three years of my life. Why?
Because she wanted to look cool. I played softball from seventh grade
onward, and around here softball is the shit! Seriously, next to
football, if you play on one of the school teams you are a star. Now
I didn't play for a school team, hell I sucked at softball, but I
loved to play. Instead I played on one of those community league
teams. Most, if not all the other girls on the team were stars.
Popular girls with things going for them. One of the most popular was
our first basemen, and she was super nice too. Love that girl, and
even though I didn't run in her social circle I was invited to her
16th birthday party. It was a big event, full of people I
didn't know. Teenagers that were in the now while I was playing
Pokemon, lol. Instead of dropping me and leaving, Dani stuck around
with my brother and sister at the party. Why, I have no clue, but
long after I wanted to leave Dani insisted we stay. At one point I
was talking with another girl from my softball team at the party, and
I suggested once it got dark enough we go play flashlight tag in the
woods. Dani loudly proclaimed I was a square, and lame. She even put
her fingers to her head in the shape of an 'L' and called me a loser.
My own mother, mocking me at a party full of popular teenagers I went
to school with. Thanks. For the record, I still like playing
flashlight tag!
*No butterfly clips for me. Yeah, I grew
up in the 1990s when Brittany Spears was a big thing, and everyone
had those little sparkly butterfly clips in their hair. Secretly I
always wanted some of my own. Not in pink, but maybe in purple or
blue, even a pretty green. I mean, I'm still a girl but Dani often
told me they were silly and childish. So I avoided them and said they
were dumb as she told me they were. When she started buying them for
my sister, and doing her hair pretty I wanted some too. She told me
no, because I never let her touch my hair and used to call the clips
dumb (to be fair Dani started it). Mainly I wouldn't let her touch my
hair because every time she brushed and blow-dried it she would burn
my head. Thankfully she gave up on doing my hair with a blow-dryer,
but that meant she also gave up on doing my hair all together. Even
when I wanted her to french-braid it for me. Eventually I learned how
to braid on my own, but moving on. The butterfly clips became a big
thing in my household and I wasn't allowed to touch them, it was more
of unspoken rule. When we often went to get-togethers at Dain's
friends houses the women would ask if I wanted to have my nails done
or have my hair done. To which Dani would laugh and say I wasn't into
those things, she was raising a boy or I was too piratical for such
childish things. I was never allowed to be anything other than what
she wanted me to be, and if I strayed from this tomboyish adult
persona she mocked me.
I have trust issues when it comes to
food, and trying new things. It's not as bad as it used to be, but
there are times I don't trust when my husband asks me to try
something. Why? Because Dani is a mean bitch. I developed this
extreme dislike of seafood, anything that comes from the ocean. I'm
slowly getting over it, because I think most fish looks tasty. Dani
knew I would freak or gag if she gave me anything that tasted
remotely fishy, so she would often go around at parties, or at her
work in a grocery store, sometimes even while we were shopping, and
find the most disgusting thing in the world. She would then tell me
to try it, and before I could refuse she would pop it into my mouth.
Sometimes she even resulted in lying about what it was to get me to
eat it. The second it hit my tongue I was always ready to throw-up,
but she would put her hand over my mouth and yell at me not to spit
it out. It wasn't a playful, joking “don't spit it out”. It was
always a “you're going to be in big trouble if you spit it out.”
If we were in a store or at the mall when this happened she would
make me walk around holding the item in my mouth or even in my hand
as it melted down my arms for the whole world to see. People would be
laughing at me, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. The worst
was at parties, were her friends—people I knew too—would laugh
and slap their knees like it was a good time. It was never a good
time for me, and now I have trust problems. Thanks.
*Fireflies, I used to be terrified of
fireflies. Yes, they were pretty to look at and I enjoyed sitting on
the porch and watching them, but catch one? Hell no! Dani told me
that most of them bite/pinch like pincer bugs, and according to her
they hurt like the dickens. So I avoided them and have since
childhood, until my husband told me otherwise. He even caught one on
his hand and showed me there was no way it could pinch/hurt me. Last
summer I actually carried one out of the house that had gotten
trapped inside, no fear because now I know they can't hurt me and are
wonderful little bugs. Here I was as a child watching kids catch
fireflies thinking I was a pussy for not doing the same, because Dani
often laugh and said I was. I simply figured I wasn't cut out to be a
play in the dirt, bug loving kind of girl.
*Fingernails, yeah I was a nail-biter.
Do you blame me? All through my childhood into a adulthood. I think
it's been about five years since I broke the habit, and I have nice
nails now. Nothing special just normal fingernails, not chewed to the
bone. There was a period where Dani really started taking care of
herself, right about the age of 33-35. She started tanning, buying
nice clothes for herself, going out more with friends, and getting
her nails done every week. I mean, every freaking week we were at the
nail shop in the mall. She had them airbrushed and everything. I
remember wanting to have my nails done soooo bad. I wanted the pretty
airbrush designs, and instead of helping me with the nail biting she
made fun of me in front of the girls in the nail shop. Saying, “I'm
not paying for anything on those nubs.” She even started taking my
sister to the shop and had her nails done because she wasn't a
nail-biter. I would have to sit there, be good and watch them get
their nails done together while the laddies looked on. When the
workers would feel sorry for me they asked if they could at least
paint my nails. Dani would say no there was nothing to paint. That I
was nasty and had dirty hands. Now I'm too scared of people to go get
my nails done. Even though I have nice nails now, and I really can't
see spending money on something like that for myself. It's also the
reason I haven't had a haircut in a really long time.
These are only a few memories I've been
battling through, there are many more. My past is littered with
things like this, small things that show Dani viewed me as a
slave—something beneath a human-being. My own mother, a person that
was suppose to love, cherish, and protect me. It's one of the biggest
things I struggle with. Coming to terms with the fact that just
because she is my mother, doesn't make Dani a perfect person. In fact
she hide behind the title of mother and parent, but she was neither
and I get to live with that. I get to live knowing my mom hated me
for some unknown reason. When I wasn't being abused I was being
bullied, because these things are something a bully would do. If a
child did these things to another child we would call them a bully,
that is who my mom is. A bully.
#StopBullying #Bullies #AdultBullies
#ChildAbuse #Abuse #BadMom
~Jax~
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