I want to claim the word abuse, like maybe it would be freeing somehow. But i cant justify myself using it. I just cant. I feel guilty and wrong, so many people had it so much worse. CPS came and took some of you away because it was obviously bad. But no one came for me, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?
No one hit me. Honestly sometimes I wish she (my mom) just hit me because it would have made more sense to me. I know that's probably a terrible thing to say but it's how I feel.
So then I think, maybe I was just neglected?
But I always had clothes. Most of them came from friends at school as hand me downs, but they existed. Sometimes they weren't clean, at least on one occasion covered in my own piss since I had wet the bed and didnt have any other pants to wear to school. And most days my hair and teeth weren't brushed, but I dont think that warrants CPS or anything.
I always had food. Sometimes I had to make it myself, but lots of latch key kids make their own food. That's not a big deal.
My dad had bi-polar. He was very very delusional, incoherent much of the time. But he never hurt me or anything. I had to babysit him at times, make sure he didnt wander away. The police told me to keep an eye on him, not let him leave the house because he scared people and threatened to jump off bridges. And I know my mom wouldn't keep an eye on him so I had to. So no, he wasnt really a parent to me, but I know he loved me and I wouldn't say he abused me.
My mom... well she yelled. A lot. About everything. All the time. And I was a terrible terrible kid who always did everything wrong, who was disobedient and sinful and ungrateful and spoiled and...
But lots of people's parents yell at them. So what.
But then again, I think to myself, she laughed at me whenever I was in pain. She enjoyed the control over me, demeaning my experiences physical and emotional. When I was at the doctor, at the dentist, had a splinter, had cramps, it didnt matter. After my Dad had a really serious suicide attempt and moved away for treatment (he later committed suicide) she laughed at me, in front of other adults, for crying about missing him at Christmas.
She told me once she didnt care if she never saw me again.
And then I think about when I was in septic shock, and she refused to take me to the ER, even though I had lost conciousness multiple times.
But on the other hand she took me to my childhood appointments growing up. I got all my vaccinations, and I even got the flu shot most years.
I know my mom is a manipulative and unhealthy person. But did she abuse me? Was I neglected? I dont really know. My brother just a few weeks ago said that he felt "neglected" and it was the first time I thought, maybe that is true. Maybe we were neglected. My therapist uses those words, and even called my mom sadistic. But I just cant tell if that's a fair assessment. I dont believe myself.
Maybe I'm just over exaggerating. Maybe I'm just remembering wrong. Some of the time she tried to be nice to me. She made me hot cocoa and bought me presents and paid for me to go to summer camp even though we couldn't afford it. And no one ever hit me. So why am I still in so much pain?
Just to clarify, my A criterion experience was my father's suicide, compounded by a later sexual assault, not the experiences above. But in my mind it's all jumbled up and connected and these memories affect me just as much, if not more.
No one hit me. Honestly sometimes I wish she (my mom) just hit me because it would have made more sense to me. I know that's probably a terrible thing to say but it's how I feel.
So then I think, maybe I was just neglected?
But I always had clothes. Most of them came from friends at school as hand me downs, but they existed. Sometimes they weren't clean, at least on one occasion covered in my own piss since I had wet the bed and didnt have any other pants to wear to school. And most days my hair and teeth weren't brushed, but I dont think that warrants CPS or anything.
I always had food. Sometimes I had to make it myself, but lots of latch key kids make their own food. That's not a big deal.
My dad had bi-polar. He was very very delusional, incoherent much of the time. But he never hurt me or anything. I had to babysit him at times, make sure he didnt wander away. The police told me to keep an eye on him, not let him leave the house because he scared people and threatened to jump off bridges. And I know my mom wouldn't keep an eye on him so I had to. So no, he wasnt really a parent to me, but I know he loved me and I wouldn't say he abused me.
My mom... well she yelled. A lot. About everything. All the time. And I was a terrible terrible kid who always did everything wrong, who was disobedient and sinful and ungrateful and spoiled and...
But lots of people's parents yell at them. So what.
But then again, I think to myself, she laughed at me whenever I was in pain. She enjoyed the control over me, demeaning my experiences physical and emotional. When I was at the doctor, at the dentist, had a splinter, had cramps, it didnt matter. After my Dad had a really serious suicide attempt and moved away for treatment (he later committed suicide) she laughed at me, in front of other adults, for crying about missing him at Christmas.
She told me once she didnt care if she never saw me again.
And then I think about when I was in septic shock, and she refused to take me to the ER, even though I had lost conciousness multiple times.
But on the other hand she took me to my childhood appointments growing up. I got all my vaccinations, and I even got the flu shot most years.
I know my mom is a manipulative and unhealthy person. But did she abuse me? Was I neglected? I dont really know. My brother just a few weeks ago said that he felt "neglected" and it was the first time I thought, maybe that is true. Maybe we were neglected. My therapist uses those words, and even called my mom sadistic. But I just cant tell if that's a fair assessment. I dont believe myself.
Maybe I'm just over exaggerating. Maybe I'm just remembering wrong. Some of the time she tried to be nice to me. She made me hot cocoa and bought me presents and paid for me to go to summer camp even though we couldn't afford it. And no one ever hit me. So why am I still in so much pain?
Just to clarify, my A criterion experience was my father's suicide, compounded by a later sexual assault, not the experiences above. But in my mind it's all jumbled up and connected and these memories affect me just as much, if not more.