MyLostStarGirl
New Here
I didn't realize until I was almost an adult that I was being abused. I know. My mom is good. Manipulative. Controlling. Just the right amount of loving. Never saw it coming. Or rather happening. Nobody did. It started out simple enough, with her drinking. Then I was watching my younger siblings and didn't have time to do chores and we irresponsible and lazy. Worthless at the age of eleven for not vaccuming, doing dishes and watching a one year old. My brother was diagnosed autistic, I stopped going to school because of my own disabilities at fourteen. I cooked, cleaned, watched the kids, stopped my mom and her husband from fighting in front of the little ones. I didn't do something and her rage turned to me. Our rooms weren't spotless? We where disrespectful, ungrateful, little shits. Her beer was.empty? Better go fetch her one. I got my first boyfriend at fifteen and she did everything in her power to sabotage that. Eventually convincing me he was cheating on me. three failed relationships over the next four years all ending in some way by my mothers hand once I started straying to far from her reach. I moved in to my fathers house, started college, found a new freedom. Started to see a pattern in her behavior when I spoke to her, then in my memories. I met my husband and refused to let this relationship die at her hands. I spoke openly with him about her and we were prepared when she tried to end yet another of my relationships. Bring up past boyfriends, one still loves me! Trying to convince me he was up to something because he chose to go play poker instead of have dinner with her...on and on. To this day she still tries every now and then. I think it is so ingrained in her she doesn't even realize she does the things she does. She refuses to get help because she is perfect. She has no problems.(excuse the sarcasm) Most days I am okay, because of the years of therapy that is ongoing. Some days though, days I speak to her, the past come rushing back. I am twelve years old again standing in our living room as she yells in my face about what a 'worthless, irresponsible, stupid, child I am for not doing the dishes. I am a ungrateful brat, why don't I just go live with my dad? Clearly I don't love her. She is a shitty mother'....I would be up until two in the morning comforting her.
She will ask me why I can't just get over the past? How many times does she have to apologize? How long am I going to hate her? The truth is I don't know. I don't hate her, but I kinda do. I know I'm an awful person. but I love my husband mother more then my own. It doesn't matter how many times she says sorry because she is STILL doing the same thing. She won't get help, she doesn't understand...she thinks she made hard choices, and a few mistakes. I don't believe she will ever understand that she abused me. That she continues to abuse me. No apology can ever make up for that and make everything okay.
She will ask me why I can't just get over the past? How many times does she have to apologize? How long am I going to hate her? The truth is I don't know. I don't hate her, but I kinda do. I know I'm an awful person. but I love my husband mother more then my own. It doesn't matter how many times she says sorry because she is STILL doing the same thing. She won't get help, she doesn't understand...she thinks she made hard choices, and a few mistakes. I don't believe she will ever understand that she abused me. That she continues to abuse me. No apology can ever make up for that and make everything okay.