Yes. I still do this..! I think part of the reason for this is that my mother isn't your typical bad guy. In fact, in some ways she's an admirable figure. When I was little, I remember everyone talking about how smart and how strong she was. I idolized her. Even though I had extraordinary behavioral/emotional problems all through my childhood that should have indicated to a professional that something was seriously wrong, my mother was so good at denying problems that when she lied about me on the child symptom checklists, she spoke with truth and the psychiatrists never suspected. My mother, a pillar of the community! And my father, ever the hard worker...never at home and totally oblivious.
I don't tell her because I am too afraid of her feeling hurt. As an adult I've come to understand that my mother is mentally ill and I have compassion for her situation. In fact, everyone in my family is mentally ill. I don't want to add to her/their stress and pain...because I'm the who will have to pick up the pieces, meet the demands, suffer her ill temper etc... It's my job to fix everything, to take on everything...to be the whipping boy. My mother demands my attention, and I can't say no. It's warped. I'm still so afraid of what she thinks of me, and I'm a solid adult at this point, but I get this feeling she'll up and die if I don't take care of her. One day I can be thinking about how she was a better mother than I gave her credit for - how it wasn't really that bad, and the next contemplating the seriously messed-up things she's done and said to me... like brainwashing me for years into thinking I was defective and needed to be totally dependent on her. That sort of stuff.
I'll say this though... I moved out of my childhood house 9 months ago and in with my boyfriend (who is both empathetic & supportive) and every month that I have been away, I have gained a little bit more ability to be honest with my mother. At first I cried and cried. I had this terrible sense of separation anxiety and wondered if I would break my parent's hearts by 'living in sin'. Flash to now and: Two weeks ago I told my mother that I remembered being sexually abused many times, by many people, for certain, and that I remembered that she told me to never tell anyone, because it would destroy the family. I worked my way up to it; I was half way out the door when the words came out of my mouth - and yeah, I ran away. But so what? I got it out, and that's something. In the past, every time I would be honest with her about a childhood trauma, I would end up taking it back later because I would second guess myself, warring with myself over whether or not I was purposefully trying to "destroy my family and hurt her" (reading this you can probably see the direct link between what she said to me, and the role I've now adopted in our family, but I could not see the connection until recently). The point is, immature or not, I had the opportunity to run away and go somewhere else.You won't be safe until you're in a safe place. When you are in a safe place and ready, I believe the revelations will come to you and with them a healthy sense of individuation from your family members.
