{Warning: trigger happy} Coming from Out of the FOG to Out of the Storm

[Widdiful Falling]

Hello, guys.

I don't know if many from OOTF post here, but I was referred here after I had a bad day, and someone told me it sounded like I was having an emotional flashback. I read about them here; how they feel, what happens physically, and I realized that I have them all the time. How convenient, that I've been trained to emotionally abuse myself for my mother.

It's really tough for me to read posts here. I'm very bad at processing emotion,  and a lot of the stuff, even simple things like symptoms lists, bring me to a very dark place, that I haven't had enough practice getting out of yet. So my posts here might be very intermittent at first. I want to make sure I can face myself, and the consequences of my abuse, without running away. I've regressed before by jumping in with both feet. I'm going to try the slow approach this time. Moving on from this sort of thing isn't something that is going to happen overnight. I hope I can find the patience.

So my story, which I put bits and pieces of on OOTF:

It all started with my grandmother. Or maybe her mother. Or her mother's mother. Cycles of abuse have a funny way of perpetuating themselves, but I don't want to speculate. So my grandmother was, as I call her, a heinous SOB. She physically abused my mother, beating her severely for not cleaning the right way. She emotionally abused her, telling her she was ugly and fat, and making sure she knew she didn't have the beauty of her older sister. She neglected her, by not allowing her to eat if she didn't comply with her every whim. My mother was responsible for keeping the house when her parents were away, and tried her best to raise her little brothers. She was the family SG. My mother knew all of this was abuse. She used to share her stories with me, because holding something like that inside hurts, and she didn't have the resources I do. I feel so sad for her. Her intention was not to perpetuate her mother's ways, but she wasn't self-aware enough to stop it.

My mother was forced into an abusive marriage when she was 16, and had my older sister. Even though my mother thought from a young age that she was destined to be a mom, being a teenage mother almost invariably does not turn out well. She physically abused my sister, and as soon as she could, my sister moved out. I was very young at the time, but I do remember my sister, and I'm sure her leaving when I was 2 didn't do me any favors. I also found out that my father would get drunk, and try to abuse me for regular "being a baby" stuff like crying, and my older sister would come to my rescue.

After my sister left, my mother was devastated. I don't remember being abused at all in the years immediately following. Then, out of nowhere, my mother started hitting me for minor offenses, like fidgeting. CPS was called, and I lied to them for my mother when they asked if she had ever hit me.

My little sister was born shortly afterwards, and my mother was convinced the baby hated her. My mother was so stressed out and overwhelmed by the colicky baby, that I can only assume she terrified her, because after a while, I was the only one who she would accept food from quietly. Then, we had a babysitter who would literally force-feed us, and my sister ate very little from then on. I taught my baby sister to speak, and played with her constantly, until my brother came along. My sister insisted that my brother was hers, and hers alone. I told her that was ridiculous, that he belonged to both of us, and she attacked me. Naturally, as the oldest, I was blamed for that fight, and many to come. My sister made a habit of attacking me, and afterwards running to my mother crying about it. I would then be forced to apologize for fighting her,  while she would escape punishment.

After my sister started attacking me, my temperament changed. I became moody and suicidal. My brother was the only light in my life at that point, since I didn't know how to make friends, and my mother wasn't any help. Still, I ended up hurting him a lot as a toddler, because who leaves their eight year old, with zero parenting skills, alone constantly, with a toddler going through their terrible twos? I'm not proud of how I handled the situation, but I don't think the entirety of the blame falls on my shoulders.

Then my youngest sister came along, and sh*t really hit the fan. My father left before her first birthday, leaving myself and my mother devastated. My mother fell into depression, and we were evicted from our house. We moved around constantly after that, and ultimately ended up homeless. I was called upon more and more to take care of my siblings, but I could never do enough. My mother told me I was useless, worthless, that she hated me, that I was scuzzy, dirty, a whore, and I couldn't wrap my stupid little brain around reality. She told me many times that she wanted to kill me, during her rages. One time, I got it into my head to challenge her to do so, since she clearly wanted to, and she sat on me, and crushed me until I couldn't breathe.

I legitimately feared for my life when she was raging, and they were unpredictable, so I was very anxious, always pumped full of adrenaline. It gave me a very empty feeling, a sort of knot in my stomach, and I couldn't process any emotion in that state. So I started self-injuring at 13. I couldn't sleep at all when I was a teenager, and I barely tried, since all that was awaiting me were nightmares. I had one really good friend, and I think that if I hadn't been able to escape to her house, I would have really gone insane. I internalized my mother's rants. I legitimately thought I was worth nothing. I lashed out at anyone who angered me, parroting my mother's rages. I became as moody and unpredictable as my mother, my own moods tied closely to hers.

I wasn't allowed to be a sexual being, so dating was out of the question. I started coming out of the FOG when I was 17, though, and rebelling. When my mother attacked me, and I decided I'd had enough, and defended myself, she mostly gave up on trying to force me around physically. Instead, she turned on my siblings, mostly when I wasn't around, because I tried my best to defend them, too. I made more friends, started dating, and moved out as soon as I could.

I maintained NC with my mother for the first year I was gone, but then my siblings' birthdays came up, and I couldn't take the guilt of not being there at all, like my father. So I reinstated contact. I should have known it was a bad idea when the first thing my mother did was verbally harass me in public about leaving her, and yell at me for what I'd written in my private notebooks. She then proceeded to try and break me up with my SO (who is a very loving and supportive person), get me to come back and live with her, and constantly showed up at my place of work under the guise of bringing me lunch to guilt-trip me into giving her more money, and defame me to my coworkers.

She soon ran out of motel rooms to stay in, so I had my siblings stay with me. It was supposed to be a very temporary arrangement, but it turned into a month-long stay, that ended with my landlord telling me I couldn't have them there. The whole time they stayed there, my mother yelled at me about their care. I was 20, and worked midnights. I knew their situation wasn't ideal, but they were older than I was (13, 14 and 17) when I was given responsibility of them, and I did provide easy meals to make, a place to sleep, and entertainment. My mother was also very angry that she wasn't allowed to stay with us, but my SO put his foot down for both his and my sakes. I was always in a terrible mood when I interacted with my mother, and my mother hated my SO.

She stole my grocery money, and moved out of state with it about a year later. She didn't tell me. She knew how much I feared being abandoned, and threw it directly in my face. I didn't know how to grieve, so I shut down. My relationship became rocky, and everything reminded me of my family. She contacted me again to ask for more money, and I gave her all the extra I had, but it wasn't enough. She asked for more constantly, blowing up my phone while I was trying to sleep. I gave her what I could, but then I learned she was lying about why she needed the money. She would say it was for some school function, or what have you, that didn't exist.

I stopped sending money, and went NC (for good this time), when my brother told me she had spit in his face. She had done the same thing to me when I was around 15, and it was the single most degrading, spiteful thing I had ever experienced. I was livid. I confronted her with my grievances. Looking back, I could have presented them in a calmer fashion, but I think I did very well. She spat in my face verbally; told me I have a "Cinderella complex without ever lifting a finger," and said that now I can go rant at work about how I have a horrible mother.

So I ranted at work about how I have a horrible mother. Every word I said was true. It was liberating.

Unfortunately, she still haunts me. Sometimes, it's a guilt I can't shake, or a bad mood I can't get out of. Sometimes, it's in the violent rages I try so hard not to succumb to. Sometimes, I panic over things that are seemingly benign, but hold significance, like the remote she threw at me, or raised voices. I constantly ask my SO if something's wrong, if he's mad. I feel an incessant need to apologize, like I'm imposing by just existing. I never feel like I'm doing enough for people, even when I'm exhausted. I'm very glad I found OOTF. It's really put some things into perspective for me, and I hope I can learn and grow even more here.

Thanks for making it to the end of this post. I know it's long, but it was very cathartic for me. I didn't start out with the intention of writing a novel, but I've always been long-winded. Thanks for sticking it out.

[Trees]

"Cycles of abuse have a funny way of perpetuating themselves...."     I agree with you there, WF!  I believe it goes back for generations in my family, too.

Welcome, Widdiful Falling.       Your family story is very sad.  I am sorry you had to deal with so much cruelty when you were such a little child.  It is heartbreaking to hear how a mother can spit in her children's faces.  She sounds very deeply disturbed and quite poisonous!

This site is a safe place for people like you and me.  Your post was quite mesmerizing, and I am glad it was cathartic for you.  There is a lot of information on this site, and a lot of warm and wise people.  All the best to you in your journey.   

[Widdiful Falling]

Thank you so much, Trees. It's really nice to meet you! 

I was reading your welcome post just a little bit ago, actually. There are some very nice analogies I think I'm going to keep. That woods one was the best. It's exactly what I needed in my life.