I have been hiding, old habit. But
there is more to it than me avoiding, I got sick of people who are
friends with my family—who know my mother, telling me I need to
forgive and forget. Or that my mother had her reasons for doing what
she did in the past, even going as far as to blame her own past
trauma for her behavior toward me. It's all bullshit.
Yes, forgiveness does bring you peace
from the trauma/past, but you're not forgiving the person who did you
wrong. You're forgiving yourself. Abuse victims play the blame game,
we're very good at it, and the #1 person we blame is ourselves.
Forgiveness of the past is for the victim, not the abuser, and
forgetting is a band-aid. Let me tell you, when that bastard comes
off in hurts. It's why people end up having breakdowns, or hang ups.
It's why a victim's world crumbles while they smile and bare it. As
for Dani, my mother, having her reasons? I would really really
like to know what they are,
because I can't come up with any good reasons—not even a bad
ones—for allowing my daughter's sexual abuser back into the house.
I truly can't. Whatever the reason, it doesn't justify her actions,
and poor parenting doesn't even touch it. Nor does her childhood
traumas. I've lived through a lot. When I reached 15 I became
exhausted by life, I wanted it to be over. Too many things had
happened, but do you see me being an asshole? Am I out there
inflecting the same thing onto other people?
NO!
And there is a lot of victims out there that never become an abuser.
Most victims shy away and hide from everything, we don't take it out
on other people. We already feel like enough of a burden, why spread
the hurt?
These
reasons are weak, at best, and I got tired of explaining myself. I
shouldn't have to defend myself when I say my childhood was shit—it
was the stuff of nightmares—but here we are. Instead of telling
people in private messages and so on, I figure, why not make a post?
It gets most of it out in the air, and if I still need to defend my
choices, my feelings, and the fact I'm a victim. Well then just
fluff-off. Because you are part of the problem, not just for me but
people like me. People who have fought and survived too many battles,
we don't need another one.
Why I
hate mommy (I felt a list would be easier and more to the point).:
~ My
earliest memories are of crappy by the night motel rooms, sleeping on
the floor at the foot of the bed, while Dani gave her boyfriends
blowjobs. I wasn't even in kindergarten. Wrecked parking-lots with
low-lives on every corner, filled with broken bottles and sometimes
syringes, was how I remember my life up till 1st
grade.
~ I
have attended over 13 schools in my life, between kindergarten and
12th
grade. In the beginning it wasn't unusual for me to start the year at
one school and finish at another. I never had friends longer than two
years. My education suffered, my reading skills the most. Dani simply
labeled me as learning disabled, and often said I was slow and in
subtle ways (at least at first) that I was stupid.
~
Dani, her friends, and boyfriends loved to party. I was at many of
these parties that always resembled a college party. Complete with
cases of beer, a house full of smoke (cigarettes), and a lot of
sexual immature pranks. (How I'm not completely messed up is beyond
me.)
~ Dani
took me away from my Nana and the rest of the family. I lived so
close to my cousins when I lived with my Nana. I had
family—community—and I didn't want to leave, but she pulled me
away kicking and screaming. All of which for childish reasons (my
family didn't like her boyfriend).
~ She
brought an abusive sexual predator into my life, and I lived in fear
for the rest of my life. My stepfather sexually, verbally, and
physically abused me. I feared him—I still fear him. I isolated
myself in my room, and when she kicked him out for cheating on her I
thought life would get better. It didn't. He still controlled her,
and by extension, me.
~ Dani
used me as her emotional support. I was a child, and she used me to
get through all her rough patches. A child. I didn't know what the
hell was going on, but it felt good to be needed. Only problem was
the second my brother and sister returned from visiting their father
(my stepfather) she didn't need or want me anymore. I was pushed
aside and left alone.
~ She
abused me, verbally, emotionally, and neglected all my needs. The
physical stuff was bad, being grabbed by my arms, jerked around,
slapped across the face. . . poked. But the emotional stuff hits far
deeper. She often asked me “Why are you so damn stupid.” I
actually started to believe I was stupid.
~ She
crushed every dream I ever had. From becoming a writer to wanting to
work for NASA, she shot them all down. Telling me I was too lazy, too
stupid, that my grades sucked, that I sucked. I had too much of a
disability. I wasn't smart or pretty. By the time college came I
wanted to be a cop so I could get shot and never have to live long
enough to acknowledge how much of a failure I was.
~ Her
boyfriend sexually assaulted me (someone besides my stepfather). We
reported it, he was arrested, and we went to court. She talked me out
of testifying—rather she guilted me out of it. He walked, and a few
months later he was back spending the night two doors down from my
bedroom.
~ She
took every penny ever stored away for my college, or given to me on
birthdays, graduation, ect and spent it on bills she let pile up
while she spent money on herself or my brother and sister.
~ She
brainwashed me into thinking she was the sun, the moon, and the stars
when in reality she was an ugly hag training a slave. She allowed my
brother and sister to abuse me as well, and often labeled me the
outcast in the family.
~ I
was guilted into not taking part in school programs or sports. While
I played softball, it was the only thing I was allowed to do. For
those few months of softball season every year all I heard was
bitching, yelling, and abusive digs thrown my way. But I needed to
play softball, it was all I really had.
~ She
shamed me for being creative. She hated that I loved to draw, thought
it was a waste of time. Dani wanted me to go to a real
college, told me I would never make money in the art world. When I
never succeeded in traditional school she criticized me, called me
stupid. After I finally worked up the courage to apply to art school
and got accepted, Dani dumped all the college paperwork, taxes,
finical aid on me. Up till that point she had handled all of that,
since I was no longer doing what she wanted she left me high and dry.
I had to do a crash course without any help.
~ She
constantly competed with me. I never understood why, but if someone
at the church or school found out I did artwork and asked me to
create something for them. She would also create something, and
present only her work, saying that I was too lazy to get to it. That
hers' was better. Same with cooking, sewing, anything. . .
everything.
If
these reasons are not enough to understand why I hold a deep anger
for Dani, my mother, then what is? What level of depravity must she
reach before people start seeing her for the awful, sick person she
is? I don't care if there are people out there whom choose not to
believe what I'm saying about her, and I don't care if you still want
to remain friends with her. That's your choice, but victim shaming
me—calling into question my emotions—or devaluing the things I've
lived through because of that piece of shit, is not going to fly.
And
before people start talking about, “Don't be angry. . . free
yourself by releasing it and forgive.” I have to feel it first. No
one can process emotions, heal, and come out the other side without
first feeling all the things they avoided before. I have no doubt one
day when I think of Dani I won't be pissed off. I will not longer
feel the deep pain of rejection from the woman that gave birth to me.
I won't want to put my fist through a wall when I remember how she
threw things at me, bruised my body, and handed me over to her
boyfriends. That's my goal, to glance back into my past and not feel
devastated by every single memory. Until then I need to feel the
anger, rage is healthy and needed. It gives me strength to move on
when all I want to do is stand still in emotional anguish.
To
those who think Dani's an angel, a woman who helps everyone and puts
her self before anothers. Believe what you want, but here's the
truth. This is why I hate her, and why—no matter the amount of time
that passes or the healing I do—will I ever. . . EVER,
allow her back into my life.
#TraumaWarrior
#Abuse #Victim #WhyIHateMommy #BadParent #BadMother #StopShamming
~Jax~
