Re: Emotional abuse and neglect (TRIGGERS, maybe)

Started by Gabrielle4500, April 20, 2015, 11:06:36 AM

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Gabrielle4500

 When I think of my childhood I see it as 'weird'. Even when I now know many others who have suffered at the hands of those who should have loved them best -parents of course- I still feel that mine was somehow 'different', strange, as if I went through the strangest experience of all.

I feel overwhelmed when I want to talk about it and I don't know where to start.
Maybe talking about my father, who was the 'neglectful' one whilst my mother had more the role of abuser.

My childhood was plagued by illness. I see why now. My mother was livid with that, though she said, to her dying day, that I 'owed not to be a health wreck like I was destined to be, because of her loving care'... I still feel sick in my stomach when I remember that.
Mother used my childhood illnesses to deprive me of many foods (without any medical advice), especially 'treats' like chocolate, cakes and the like.

Father, who talked to friends and family of how difficult life was since my birth, and how a heavy burden my illnesses were, did nevertheless something very odd from time to time, namely: he took me on outings with him (like going  shopping for something), and bought me chocolate and treats, but making it very clear that I should never, ever, tell my mother about it!!!

This sort of weird behaviour continued throughout my young years, and not once, after those 'forbidden foods' did I get sick. That is, in my stomach; I don't really know about my emotions.

I grew up loving my father and being furious with him at the same time. I just couldn't understand why he just couldn't stand up for me, and tell my mother the truth about my health.
Perhaps I am not very sure if I understand his behaviour now. He was a very cultured man, who read a lot and could have great conversations on almost anything. And at the same time he was completely narrow minded when it came to certain matters, such as women rights and especially daughter's needs and rights.
However, he was in thrall of my mother, who dictated her whims to almost everyone, and was prone to extreme rages and emotional abuse. My mother was a narcissist and I believe she also had traces of borderline personality disorder. But this will be another post.

If I am still confused and not very coherent, please understand that, despite years of therapies (some useful and some much less than that), I still feel like a little girl inside when I start talking of these topics. Thanks for 'listening' anyway!


Gabrielle4500

More about this topic.

My mother was a rage full and deceitful person who thought nothing of lying and 'listen' to me when trying to get information about my life; later, she would use that same information against me.
This happened particularly during my adolescence, when she realized that I was not telling her all.

Mother thought nothing of talking behind my back, even to my dearest girlfriends, painting herself as a 'poor victim' of me, 'when all she wanted to do was to be a loving mom'. A couple of my friends even fell for it, in a culture who had many stereotyped beliefs about mothers (like they could do no wrong, loved their children and made great sacrifices for them, et al). I lost some friends because of these 'talks', which still can cause me pain when I remember these things.

When I confronted mother with her interference in my private life, she would either deny it or rage at me, calling me an 'ungrateful daughter' after all she 'had done for me'. If I didn't back down and 'apologize' she called my father and enlisted him in punishing me.

Mother never thought that to look after a sick child is a parent's responsibility. She denied it when I confronted her with the way she had parented me when I was sick; namely: put me in bed and then throw a 'barrage' at me for, somehow, 'being to blame for my illness'. (I 'ate something she told me not to, or went outside when it was too hot or too cold', et al).

I have read in recovery forums that many abusive parents use the same arguments and even words throughout the world. They may even talk different languages but somehow they're all very similar. It is as if they all have had the same 'school' and they have 'learned' their lessons very well.

I was assigned the family role of scapegoat. Everything that went wrong or my parents disliked was, somehow, my fault. My parents had an extremely volatile relationship between them, despite my father being in thrall of mom. But they couldn't negotiate anything between them without ending up insulting and screaming at each other. However, there was always ONE thing that always united them: they were always in perfect agreement to discharge their foulest tempers at me; they were always ready to believe the worst when it came to anything about me. In my adolescence and early adulthood, I was accused of the most outlandish deeds. Even after so many years I cannot even imagine where they got those ideas that definitely, had nothing at all to do with my personality.

There is still so much more to go, but getting into all this causes me pain and I need to rest. I can only speak so much in a day or setting.

Gabrielle4500


And yet more to tell. (I haven't received any reply, but I know more than 40 read this)

Reading about another member sexual abuse brought out this issue I have never been able to clarify (so far).

I have just an image of seeing a male's genitals when I was in a somewhat 'hiding' place at home, (under the main staircase), when I was just 2 or 3 years old. (We lived in a really big house with plenty of out of the way places). As a child, I used those spaces to play and I liked the privacy there) specially one under the big staircase, where the phone was located.

I just 'see' the male genitals, which smelt 'not too good' and the 'memory' stops there (If it was a memory and not 'imagination).
And when I 'remember' this, I somehow 'think' of two male employees of my parents' for some reason.

These employees were apparently ok. Or at least, I didn't get to know of anything wrong with them. But I do know that when I was possibly 6-7 y o I was scared of those stairs especially at night, to the point that if I had to go to the toilet in the evening I would seek my grandmother, who lived with us and was the only sunshine of my young life, to accompany me.

Re: my fears, by that time I was attending a Nuns' school and preparing for first communion (and no, I'm NOT  a catholic any more now). In those days children were very indoctrinated about the devil in catholic schools, and mine was no exception. So most children were fearful of the 'evil one' who was always ready -the nuns said- to carry you to *.

I really wonder what was going on there. As a clarification, I don't have any brothers or sisters, and my father, despite being very insensitive with me, don't seem to me like having anything to do with this. He could have had many shortcomings, but this kind doesn't feel like him at all.

Any input? It could be welcome indeed.

C.

I'm not sure exactly what to say.  But, a couple of thoughts come to mind.

First, your memory coupled w/a fear of the stair case is real.  That is, I don't think that children make up things about what you describe.  They just don't have the experience or awareness.  Often adults "blame" children by calling things their imagination.  But, that's just another abuse strategy by the adults.  And it's common to have a story or situation "trigger" the memory, like what you described of having read another post.

Second,  do you have a therapist or someone with whom you can process these memories?  This might be the tip of the iceberg so to speak, so you'll want support.  This forum is one place and it's great that you've reached out.  But a professional trained in the field would be another helpful and from my experience important support for your recovery.

Again, thank you for sharing your experience and memories here.  I am truly sorry about your experience.  No child should have to go through what you went through.  I think I understand what you mean about feeling like a child when you write about these memories.  I feel myself regress emotionally too at times.  Fortunately as adults we can now reach out to that child and help her heal.  You may find some helpful ideas on the board about the Inner Child.  I trust and wish you the best on your journey of recovery.

littlepalm

HI-

I am an only child as well. My father did love me, however he died. :'(. I was 11, and almost 40 yrs later, in my mind & thoughts & actions, people are dealing with "11-12 yr. old little palm". :sadno:

Prior to his death, my mother & I never got along. She was more concerned w/ her FOO. My father was my primary parent and when he died I became an orphan, in my mind. Oh, yes, "All that I have done for YOU". I have heard this line too many times.  :doh:

I am sorry you had to endure the trauma.  :hug: Are you in T?

bee

I also had an abusive M and a father who let it happen(an enabler). My feelings for my father have been mixed, until recently, when I finally saw that his biggest concern has always been, and will always be, keeping M happy.

So much of what your mother did my M(I can not call her mother) did also. Accuse me of lying, use information against me, play the victim, call me ungrateful, etc. I too was the scapegoat.

I understand all too well how confusing it all is. I feel like the memories are a giant knotted ball of twine in my head, with ends sticking out everywhere. Near impossible to untangle.


Gabrielle4500

Dear all who responded,

Thank you! Your letters have given me comfort in a moment when my 'moods' have been up and down as it happens when something triggers them (even if I don't know what this 'something' might be).

Bee, I too have great difficulty in calling my 'M' mother. Looking back I can see that I've never beenable to love her, not even in my childhood. She was always cruel and dictatorial, very arrogant (she was a narcissist) and caused me great pain because I could feel, somehow, that she was NOT as my friends' mothers were. For example, my positive mother figure was Grandma, who lived with us, and provided blessed support and love to me. I wanted to be with her only, and perhaps with Dad sometimes when the M wasn't around. But it didn't happen too often.

In my culture of origin (Latin America, I haven't lived there for 35 years and am an Australian now), the mother was unfortunately glorified. She had all rights and I was told she should be 'everything' for me. So, my engulfing M got everyone on her side when I complained anywhere. Your parents had ALL rights over children, especially daughters. Short of killing them, they could do as they pleased. So, I had NO support whatsoever, and shouldn't have been for my blessed grandma only God knows what would I have become.

The story of all these events that took place long ago is, however, still with me. I have improved over the years with counselling, all sort of readings to help and a fierce determination to 'get over it', but I still need help, I still isolate myself and I still feel pain and shame. That's perhaps de worst: shame.

I was so shamed about everything that I have to make a conscious effort, every day, to catch myself when I start going 'down that track again'. And it is tiring.

Throughout the years I developed fibromyalgia and early osteoarthritis, and I live with chronic pain. This adds to my tiredness, and many times I have to cancel events in the evening because my body aches all over. This isn't easily understood by many, so I've lost friends especially because I don't know how to explain myself, I feel ashamed to have to explain my illness... perhaps I feel that I 'should have got over it by know'???

No, I haven't forgiven my M for all this. That isn't my priority. My priority is just to live through each day, with the consequences of all this that happened to me. Mmmmm.... difficult, hey!