Jeez. I thought bad things were supposed to only come in threes.
You're a miracle, mums.
Hang in there....
Lol, I feel like a real whinger. I only really bothered mentioning this pile of shit show and death because I said the other day how nothing traumatic has really happened this year and then, later, I went (in my head) "hang on a minute, my good and beautiful friend, Peter, killed himself just a few short months ago, that was pretty traumatic".
A lot of the stuff has only happened recently. The neighbor drama happened early last month but it wasn't the first time poor M went through extreme violence at the hands of J, her babydada. I think it was last year that he tried to douse her in petrol and set her alight.
Yeah, living here is no joke.
I'm sad today, cycling over the mum stuff. Yesterday I cried a lot, over my son and how he'd had to carry his rape trauma alone, for the past 9 years. Man that kills me.
Today I'm sad about my mum and how I'm so triggered by her. She wouldn't even have to do anything ,just show up, for me to be totally hypervigilant, to feel really unsafe, angry, hurt and guilty-feeling.
She's a very unwell woman, as in disordered personality, a trauma victim herself and not dealing with it, is really taking its toll.
She has given up on me because after my last miscarriage last year, I reached my capacity for dealing with upsetting and scary people and stressors in my life. I stopped picking up when she called. I eventually texted her saying "I need space because you are too implicated in my trauma. " Which was pretty gentle of me considering the many assaults, the unending (except for rare occasions) emotional abuse, the seriously criminal level neglect when I needed medical attention as a child, the isolating, the gaslighting, the constant environment of upheaval, conflict, abuse and no support to deal with any of it, and the abandonment she inflicted on me.
She is frightened to face me, I think, because of what she might have to face in herself. She knows I finally have someone who has my back. She has other children still and always treated me as a lot less than them. I have a different father to them. Someone she, pretty much, despises.
I was a mistake. A diaphram escapee. My Dad's sperm slipped through and ruined her chances to get a uni degree. A "difficult child" "so like my father" (he wasn't even sure I was his until she said this, a lot). My Dad was advised by a T to leave her when she was pregnant with me; he told her. Not great for a very damaged and histrionic woman with no other supports and not great for unborn me.
She begged him to stay but latched on to a schizophrenic man and ended up leaving my Dad, for him, when I was two and a half.
I don't hate my mum, not by a long shot. I love her but it's very pain-fraught love. I don't feel safe around her at all. I feel bad about myself, in relation to her.
I could and will go on, but that's enough for now.
