Does it ever hit you just how bad you had it? (CW)

TLC Needed

TW: Self harm, physical abuse, suicidal ideation

Mom texted me some bullshit therapy stuff from Instagram today. Someone who said that "forgiveness isn't free, it costs something". I texted back, "you realize I'm the one paying, right?" She said, "I thought I was paying." I'm gonna copy and paste messages cause it's easier.

Me: "According to this video, the price of forgiveness is paid by the one doing the forgiving. What have I done that requires forgiveness? All I did was set boundaries and ask that you give me some grace, treat me like you treat others. You hit me, screamed at me, used me as your personal therapist, and continuously put me down. You've gotten better, and I've paid dearly for my forgiveness. But you keep showing me that you don't understand what that cost me."

Mom: "If you want to hang on to all that then there is nothing I can do. You were spanked rarely as discipline and I remember slapping you once. It's up to you how much weight you put on that in your life. I've done my best to try and understand you and get you the help we needed. And I have repeatedly apologized. And do you really believe that all the problems lie with me? That you and your behavior didn't contribute to the situation?"

(She's never apologized. She hit me a lot more than once. The "behavior" she's speaking of was me cutting myself and backtalking.)

Me: "I was a kid. I didn't know any better. I have developmental trauma that still affects me to this day. And you didn't "slap me once", you dragged me out of the car by my hair after hitting me multiple times.

Here's the thing that gets me. You're no different than Dad. There's nothing more important to you than not admitting that you're wrong. Not even me. You aren't sorry. You say you love me, but if I were still sixteen, you would still be slapping me. Because you still think I deserve it. The only reason you don't hit me anymore is because you know you can't get away with it. That's not love.

There were more times that you hit me than just those two. I'm not surprised you don't remember. "The axe forgets, but the tree remembers."

You never hit [sister] as much as you hit me, because she told you she would hit back. And because she was bigger than you. But I wasn't.

I remember you hitting me after I tried to kill myself. You pinned me down so I couldn't get away."

I typed all this and it really hit me how bad I had it. I spent my teen years saying I was being abused. Then when I got older I thought, maybe it wasn't abuse. I'm being dramatic. Maybe I was overreacting. I did talk back a lot. I did resist. I wasn't always nice. She didn't hit me that much, or call me names. What were they supposed to do? Maybe I did deserve it.

But when I look at the above, I realize that there is no excuse. I can't imagine hitting someone, no matter how frustrated I am. Especially not a kid.

I don't know. There's a knot in my chest and in my throat that won't loosen. I love my mom, and I think I keep hanging on to a relationship with her because I can't accept that she's the kind of person who would think like this. I know she can be kind, and insightful. There's an urge to minimize it again. I keep feeling that I need to say that I'm dramatizing, I'm being too literal or too sensitive. Or maybe it's all been a terrible misunderstanding. But if it was a misunderstanding, why hasn't she apologized? Why does she keep talking over me and putting me down and telling me that SHE needs to forgive ME? Why doesn't she act like she loves me?

Argh.

in JUSTNOMILby dragonessofages

94%

3mo

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stuckinthedryer

3mo

I found this in a book once called "But It's Your Family". It helped me explain to myself part of the why.

Emotional abuse and manipulation can not work without moments of intermittent kindness.

We tell ourselves it's not that bad because it wasn't constant. We tell ourselves ourselves it wasn't that bad because we were young and we might not remember. We tell ourselves it was not that bad because sometimes she was nice.

She knows. She lies to herself because facing the fact she did those things and was capable of hurting her child is impossible to admit. My mother changes the narative frequently to where she is always the injured party and we forced her into the bad behavior it was never her choice.

I am over 60 still dealing with her. I chose no contact for my sanity but it was not a choice i made early on it was only in 2007. We all have to beat that choice near to death before we make it. Hoping against all odds that this next interaction with her will be better and we will survive because we love her and she is your mom. Surely she loves you enough to change. Then at last you finally see them like Harry Potter saw Voldemort in the train station. You see this sick pathetic shell who is incapable of loving themselves and you can not help them.

I am so empathetic to your pain and I see you. She sounds like an absolutely immature parent and is a thrill a minuet to deal with. Step back and take a deep breath. Maybe answer her calls less. Comunicate by text only for awhile. Take time to nurture you and get perspective. I got a good few books about dealing with these issues. Read and wrote notes to myself in the margins. It was helpful. Not a cure but gave me peace to realize my parent was not the only wacked one out there and i was not alone.

dragonessofages

3mo

I'll have to read that. It sounds like a very wise book.

That's a hard trap for me as well. I know she's hurting. I want to help her. If she could see what she did to me, maybe she'll stop doing it to herself. But I can't make her see.

StackofFabric

3mo

"That's a hard trap for me as well. I know she's hurting. I want to help her. If she could see what she did to me, maybe she'll stop doing it to herself. But I can't make her see."
And she may never see. That's her weakness/choice/disability/whatever. Even if the cost is so high - losing you! - she can't or won't change. I struggled with this too, stayed in contact with my mother far too long, hoping that I could help her, bring her to some happiness or peace.
It was only on her deathbed that she let the "poor me" mask slip and commented that I "had been sent here to take care of her." Suddenly her hating my husband, resenting my children (until they were old enough to be of some service to her), begrudging the time I could give her, made sense.
I wasn't _Supposed_ to have a life beyond her, I was _Supposed_ to be her shadow, her slave, her one adoring person. And if I had gone along with that plan, when she died, and I would have been left with nothing? She didn't care.
It broke me, it really did.
Fortunately, I do have a life, a job, lovely children, and grandchildren (and a ex-husband who I realized was just as abusive as her, once I could see it).
So, don't set yourself on fire to save someone else.