Monday, November 8, 2010

Brutal Convo with mom

Just finished a Skype conversation with my mother. She's the enabler in a 40 year codependent relationship with my alcoholic, pedophile father.
I told her in detail how her brother raped me for the first time when I was 5. He also tried to kill me by burying me in a ditch and putting stones on top of it, so that I couldn't come out of there. I also told her how about how my father raped me repeatedly since the age of 3.
Her response was that of a child. She denied my words, then she yelled and cried and asked me to stop telling her those things. She asked me to have pity. She said she couldn't handle any more of that. Like it was my fault. Like what I was telling her was the source of her pain, instead of the life she CHOSE to live with my father. She was begging me to stop as if I was truly hurting her. My words were hurting her. In the past, I would have believed that my words have some mysterious power that can hurt people and consequently, I must have had some mysterious power to hurt people. I gave up on that kind of thinking. No more magical powers. She chose me to be skape goat of her pain. She made me to be the bad guy, cause she can't face the effects of her life choices. She dumped her pain on me. How unfair is that? I carried her pain for all of these years. I missed out on life because of her.
She cried and told me to stop talking to her. She continued by telling me she wants to take her own life. She wants to kill herself rather than listen to my stories. My father walked in. I could hear him in the background talking shit about me: "She'll kill you one day." he was saying. He continued by insulting me. I didn't lose my nerve and called him a "pedophile" and a "drunk". She said that she doesn't want to talk about it, which is why she keeps herself busy. She also tried the routine of: "Why me, God? What have I done that is so terrible, to be punished this way?" She tried every strategy in the book: guilt me, ask the protection of the abuser until she eventually hung up on me. Before hanging up she made a deal: "Please don't tell me anything else for about a month." She wants time to process the new information I'd given her. I told her I haven't got time and that I think about the abuse every day. It impedes me from living my life. If she wants to be my friend, she'll have to listen to my stories. There's no way around it. Or she could choose to not talk at all and break all contact, which is also surprisingly fine with me.
She's never been a mother to me. I always have been a mother to her. I am also an only child. Even now, she tried to make me the bad guy, she tried to pin the guilt on me. She wants me to bail her out. She wants complete authority over me, so she can use me again against her master (my father). Now I know she never loved me. She never had it in her to love anyone. She never respected me. She never knew me and she was never interested to know me.
I asked: "What about my pain? When will it be my time to complain? When will I have the right to stand up and say something for myself? You never gave me a chance. It was always about you and your pain, moma. It was never about me. I was the sacrificial lamb. I know what you'll say: it's the Christian thing to do. You used Christ to put me down, to enslave me and abuse me. I'm sick of being Christ. I want truth. I want awareness. I want freedom from you. Let me go. I won't save you. I want to save myself."
I'm very emotional right now. She REJECTED me again. Every time I needed her, her response was a rejection. She never had time for my problems. My problems were always smaller than her own problems ( she was an older sister to me, not a mother). We first had to take care of her problems and never attend to mine. I was unimportant to her. That's why I can't have a friendship with a girl: cause the other person's problems are always more important than mine. I don't count. I make myself not to count. With Molly: she calls me any time she has a problem and I listen and hope that one day she'll recognize me as her best friend, but all I am is a door mat.
I AM AN ORPHAN WHO GREW UP RAISING HER PARENTS AS HER WEAK BROTHER AND SISTER, WHO ONLY GAVE ME PAIN AND SUFFERING IN RETURN FOR MY EFFORTS TO LOVE THEM AND PROTECT THEM. NO WONDER I DON'T WANT TO HAVE ANY KIDS.

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