Reflections on the abuse I endured and how thick the FOG was...

[freedom77]

Hello all... might be triggering, details of child abuse, sex abuse mentioned, etc..

I've been NC for almost a week now. BPD/N mother got her own cell phone and immediately began weaponizing it by blowing up my phone with her usual nasty, abusive messages and threats to walk over to my apartment, she's going to call the police and report me for some fabricated crime (she has done this before, even once filed a missing persons report when I refused to answer her calls), that she's going to commit suicide and it'll be my fault (that's an oldie but goodie, never once attempted it, just a hollow arm twister).

I have to admit to you all....I've had moments of doubt. Am I doing the right thing? What if she carries out her threats?
Each night I dream about these scenarios, and wake up with anxiety.

But then I allow myself to reflect on the countless abusive situations I survived. I feel like if I share them, they will be more validating to me, since whenever I've confronted mother about them, she gaslights, denies, calls me a liar, it never happened, I'm crazy, etc...

I can't reflect on every single abusive incident, that would be a very long book to write. But I want to share a few of the highlights of what life with mother was like.

Mother always brainwashed me into believing she was a stellar, perfect parent, there is no better mother than she. I believed this crap till I was about 10, and at that time realized there was something not right about mother and the way our lives were, and the way I was treated.

I was often left alone with her sexually abusive boyfriend, and of course, was sexually and physically abused for years. He did lots of awful things to me. She did nothing to stop it, called me a liar when told about it, and continued to let him live with us and when that wasn't possible because we moved into public housing and they don't allow freeloading boyfriends, she still continued to let him visit.

She viciously beat me for petty offenses. Like one cold day I was locked out of the house. I knocked and knocked on the door. I had to pee really bad, and it was cold and windy. Suddenly the door was ripped open and mother grabs my upper arm yanking me inside and proceeds to beat the crap out of me, slapping, punching, hair pulling, shoving me all around the kitchen because I dared to wake her from her nap. I was 9.

She laid in wait for me to arrive home from school one afternoon. She was supposed to work that day, but called off, losing a day of much needed pay, just so she could beat me. I opened the door, and there she sat like a spider, a miserable look upon her face.

She hissed coldly, "get your ass in here"....She made me walk toward her. I would have rather she came at me, but she made me walk terrified to my fate. Once in front of her, she shoved me to the floor and beat me unmercifully for what seemed like forever with a thick black bungee cord, the kind movers use to secure heavy objects. She beat me so hard, I urinated all over myself and the carpet. She then beat me some more for that offense, and then threw a mop bucket and sponge at me to "clean up that piss, and clean it up good" My back, arms and legs had bruises from the metal hooks on either end of the bungee cords.

I was 11. My offense was having friends over the day before. I usually was allowed to have friends over, but for some reason the day before, unknown to me, I was not.

Speaking of having friends over, she allowed me the rare opportunity to host a sleep over. I had 3 neighborhood girls spend the night. Mother invited pervert boyfriend over. While us 4 girls were in my bedroom hanging out, he and mother drank whiskey (mother rarely drank) and then had very loud sex, replete with moans and grunts, on the livingroom floor up against the wall of my bedroom. We heard it all. I was mortified. The 3 girls tried to brush it off, and we put music on. Maybe it helped that, being public housing, many of the families who lived there were also rife with dysfunction, making the situation more forgiving in my friends' eyes. I don't know. The one friend confided her own mother did something similar one time, and even drove topless with her and her sisters in the car once. Still it was truly disgusting what the two of them did.

My 13th birthday was spent being called names by her and her own miserable BPD/N mother, my grandmother who was also horrible to me. At this point we lost our public housing apartment because mother didn't follow the rules, she also got fired from her job, and we were living in our broken down car. Her own mother very begrudgingly allowed us to live with her. Grandmother was malignantly abusive to me. Now I had two abusers on my ass for the whole 8 months we lived there until we were given a 2nd chance at having another public housing apartment.

They locked me out of the house on my 13th birthday for hours in the hot sun with nothing to drink and no toilet. The two of them stood by the window, laughing and mocking me as I stood there and cried. I think this made mother feel very special, to be on equal footing with her own abusive mother.

I could never be special or achieve anything without mother down talking it, dismissing it, or better yet, taking credit for it.

There is no conversation that can be had without it being about her. Everything is about her. The topic or situation could be so totally not about her, but she'll make it about her.  I could be sick, I could be in a bad way, and it will be turned around about how it's happening to her, not me.

She is cruel in her insults, her put downs, her motives.

She is demanding, expecting me to relinquish my dreams, my life, my desires, wants, needs to satisfy her demands. She will manufacture situations that deliberately put her at a disadvantage, thereby forcing me to rescue her.

She lies about me, she lies to me.

She can never be confronted or criticized. She is perfect, she is far too good for me. I didn't deserve such a perfect parent.

I am forever ungrateful trash.

Every mistake I have ever made, dating back to conception, is thrown in my face and used as a weapon against me.

She let me go hungry. She allowed me to be sick without medical care. I went deaf for 9 months when I was 4 years old from grossly neglected ear infections. She always had money for cigarettes for herself, and booze for the pervert boyfriend.

She nonchalantly gave away pets that us kids adored. My beloved cat was dropped off at the pound. She didn't do this behind my back and then make up a story about it running away. That would have been kinder. Oh no, it was far more painful for me, and far more enjoyable for her to force me to ride with her to the pound and leave my Sugar behind. She didn't comfort me, nor wipe away my tears. She just coldly stated "get over it, cats are a dime a dozen".

She's called me names like slut, whore, you're just like your father (a man I never knew, and a man she only knew for six months).

She got me fired from a job by calling them and telling them bad stories about me. They let me go because they feared that she may do more PR damage, so I became a liability to them.

She never respected my right to privacy or boundaries. Often forcing me to leave the bedroom and bathroom door open. She read my diary out loud to her boyfriend and my siblings when I was 8. Laughing and poking fun at my innermost thoughts. She found a letter I wrote about how dysfunctional our family was when I was 10 and read it aloud and slapped me hard across the face for daring to write about it.

Anytime she was stressed which was often, I was slapped hard across the face just for being present, for standing too close to her, for asking for something to eat.

In my teen years she found it necessary to compete with me. She was in her later 30s, early 40s by then. She was on welfare, and had all day to snoop thru my things. I worked after school so I could have decent clothes, make up, costume jewelry, hygiene products, etc. I would come home from school and find her in my bedroom, looking absolutely ridiculous in my young teen skirts and tops, with my make up on, and my face products wasted and smeared all over my vanity mirror. She would say, "I look better than you."

She trashed my bedroom often. Tearing my posters off the walls into shreds. Throwing my trinkets and smashing them. Deliberately ruining my new clothes. She never did the laundry, that was my job, but if she did, it was with the intent to wreck my stuff. A brand name sweat shirt I really coveted and saved up for, she put in the wash with bleach, thus destroying it.

When I was 28 she got into my apartment and snooped through my private things, read old love letters, looked at my financials, helped herself to nick nakes and souvenirs I bought on trips, and took them. Acted indignant when I asked for them back.

There were often times she would break into my home, trashing stuff and stealing items. I once came home from work when I was 30 and found my place trashed and stuff I valued thrown in the garbage. She was proud of what she did, daring me to report her.

Now that DD hasn't been around her in over a week, DD is now opening up about the trash talk about me she had to listen to. Mother was trying to turn DD against me.

On and on I could go, but I'm getting myself upset. I'm shaking with fear and rage as I write this. My heart is pounding out of my chest and I feel an anxiety attack approaching, so I have to stop.

Thanks for reading this.

[GettingOOTF]

I am so sorry that this happened to you. You deserved to be loved and cared for as a child and an adult.

I relate to a lot of what you wrote. It's terrible to write this but as I was reading your post I thought "I'm glad my mother's dead", she is no longer around to torment me. I think I always had the fantasy that if she were still alive she would have changed, seen the error of her ways and tried to make amends. Your writing helped me see that the abuse probably would have continued.

NC is hard, especially in the beginning. We doubt the severity of our abuse as our parents taught us that it was "normal". Sometimes in therapy I will tell my therapist something my father said to me and she will look horrified, where as I'm sitting there wondering if it's true and I'm "too sensitive".

You sound strong and you are certainly brave. Thank you for sharing your journey.

[Sweetbriar]

Dear Freedom77,

Thank you for sharing that. You are very brave and you are taking the situation in your control now, taking the hand of that young child within you, that little girl left outside, that teenage girl neglected and hurt, and you are showing her that she is safe now.

I cannot imagine what your mother and grandmother lacked in their hearts to have a beautiful child that they would rather tear down and destroy than be proud of and love. I cannot imagine it. I am so hurting for you right now. I wish I could have swooped in there and helped. I think about it in my own situation as well. It makes me want to cry. It breaks my heart.

Walk away from your mother. Move toward thriving in your life. Every step away from that FOG will lead you to a brighter, happier more peaceful life.

What we went thru affects us by giving us trauma. We are not weak. We have been hurt though. That means we need a lot of tenderness and love and that starts with us walking away from mean people, even if they were family.

As I sit with what you've shared I can't help but wonder where this terrible pain originates? How do people get to the place where they think being cruel to themselves and others, esp. children is normal, almost righteous? It's as if an evil pervades a family. I want that to stop with me. I want the generational madness to end, for all of us.

Even though I struggle with so many of what us struggle with here, that inherent loyalty to an abusive parent, I think about your words and I know that as of today I will remain steadfast in my resolve to heal the still hurting child within me. I must not return to them. If that means No Contact with my parents, I will have to put up with their actions and continue to set boundaries as hard as that is.

Thank you for sharing your story. It makes me also look more closely at my own and how terrified I was as a girl so many times and how unfair that was. I have to be strong now. I have to right those wrongs.

[appaloosa]

Dear Freedom77,
Your story makes me so sad for the little girl you once were. I hope you can maintain your NC. Your mother does not deserve to be part of your life, and your own precious DD deserves to be protected from any contact with her. Peace.

[Amadahy]

Dear Freedom77,

Mad respect.

You deserve peace and happiness and no more contact with your abuser. I'm so sorry for all of it and I hope you will take good care and really know how amazing you are.

[Maxtrem]

Thank you for sharing your story, I'm really sorry you went through all this. My history with my mother is significantly less bad than yours and my psychologist considers that I really didn't have it easy. One thing my psychologist told me is that change will never come from our mothers, so it's up to you to make the changes and maintain the NC. I feel like your mother is incapable of remorse, which disgusts me. I identify with you, because just like you, I adapt (I've been programmed to do this forever) to do anything to appease my mother's anger and please her, even if I have to endure a lot of disrespect, manipulation and no real recognition. It's very difficult to get out of this dynamic (I'm still working on it), I wish you good luck. 

On the other hand, I can't help but consider your mother deeply stupid to act this way, you would do anything for her, if only she would show sincere gratitude, I'm sure you would be more than happy to help her. Personally, I make great efforts in all aspects of my life to please, to be up to the task and I have a lot of recognition at work and from my girlfriend and even my father. On the other hand, the one who takes the most energy from me (MuBPD) considers that it is never enough. She is also convinced that I had a very nice and easy life!         

[PeanutButter]

I am deeply sorry for you for what you have endured. Blessings to you. Now healing can begin. 

[Duck]

Your mother does not deserve the time of day from you. You needn't worry about her phones or Internet or anything at all ever again. I hope very much you can move on with zero guilt and zero regrets. She does not deserve any contact with your daughter. You are not obligated to her at all. I read all your words and I hear you. These are egregious crimes.

[MamaDryad]

I feel so much compassion for your little self right now. You didn't deserve any of that. No one could deserve that, especially not a child.