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There are some things that I am coming to realize about my mother….


And they are not pretty.  When I was a small child my mother and father were together.  From the stories I have been told, he beat on her a lot.  I was far to young to ever remember something like that.  But I have it on good authority that he is an abusive man and an alcoholic.  I do not doubt that she suffered a great deal at his hands.

Some background for any of you that don’t know these things about me: I am a middle child.  I have an older sister and a younger brother.  We all three have different fathers.  When I was about 6 my stepdad adopted me.

I have come to realize as I have gotten older that the only reason that this happened was so that my father would not access to me and would not make my mother and sister scared anymore.  It is possibly so that he would not hurt me like he hurt them, but I don’t know.  I have to assume that they did what they thought was in my best interests.

When I was 5 my brother was born.  My sister is 8 years older than I am.  Mom and Dad went out a lot and left my sister in charge.  Would have been great except that my sister resented me for having been born and making her not be the only child anymore and she resented me for being “his” daughter and the reason mom kept him in our lives for so long.  She told me once when she was 16 or so that she really hated me when I was born.  People say that sticks and stones can’t hurt you but these words play back in a person’s mind and they do something horrible to the soul.

As I was growing up my mother would use my father as a threat.  If I did not go along with what she wanted me to do or act how she wanted me to act then she would threaten to make me go live with him.  From the horrible things that I was told about him, I did not want that.

My sister and her Daddy were always very close.  My brother was the son my mother had always wanted.  I was the middle child and all I had was my mother.  I was not my dad’s child by blood…just the one that he had to take ownership of. Of course, I am sure, he resented me for that.  So here I was this middle child with no one in this world to intervene for me but my mother.

About the time that I was 8 or 9 is when it started.  My sister moved out and moved in to live with her Daddy.  Mom and my sister had some really bad arguments but mom never beat on her.  My sister had a Daddy she could count on and who would defend her.  My brother was only like 3 or 4 so he couldn’t possibly do anything to warrant a beating.  But I could.  I was the daughter of the bastard who beat on her and no one could or would stop her from beating on me.  Belts, paint stir sticks, hands….whatever was handy.  It started and was worst when I would bring home bad grades.  Looking back now, I am absolutely certain that I had some form of learning disability or even possibly have Asperger’s Syndrome, but she never cared enough to try to figure out what was going on, just the “what the hell is wrong with you?” and the beatings.  She would even tell me sometimes that somethings I did reminded her of Chuck (my biological father) and when I did those things she just wanted to kill me.  My mother told me she wanted to kill me.  I was just a child.  Sticks and stones DO hurt.  And they replay over and over inside of a person’s soul.

When I was 13 we move to Cincinnati.  It got worse when we lived there.  It got much worse.  When I was 14 there was an incident where my mother’s cousin was coming to visit and my mother got angry with me for eating the last honey bun.  I had not, but she called me a liar and beat me with her belt.  She left welts and bruises up and down my legs.  She will swear to this day that I over exaggerated it and that this did not happen how I said it did, but she lies.  She doesn’t actually lie, but stretches it so far that she might as well lie.

She was always angry with me.  There would be brief periods of time when I would feel like we were finally going to get along and that she would protect me, but then she would turn on me again.  Almost as if she got off on the bait and switch she was playing with me.  When I was in 6th grade “dad” called me a bitch because I had teased my hair up and had it in the current style.  We were going to the father/daughter dance and I was getting ready.  She defended me on this.  Then she never did again.  There were so many times he would call me that name under his breath and she would say it did not count if it was under his breath.

When she beat me that time about the hunny bun, I wore shorts to school.  The school called CPS on her but they did nothing to protect me.  I went home with a friend because I was scared to go home.  I was terrified she would play the perfect mother and call me a liar and they would let her off the hook, so I ran away.  Well they found me and CPS did let them off the hook and they chose to make my life worse because of this.

From that point on I had to hear her tell me how I called CPS on her and that I was not abused….that those kids whose parents do things like burn or scald them or cut on them or all of these other horrible things, those were the ones that were abused.  She would tell me I had it so great compared to them and I needed to appreciate it.

We moved back to Indiana when I was 15.  We moved to Terre Haute which is where we lived when my boyfriend at the time raped me.  My mother walked in on that and did not even consider that it could have been anything other than her no good worthless daughter being a whore.  And she treated me accordingly.

There is a pattern of abuse throughout my life but she refuses to acknowledge that she has ever done anything to harm or hurt me.  It is very possible that I have Asperger’s or some other condition.  Whether this condition is something that is genetic like Asperger’s or something that is resultant of her abuse of me, I don’t know.  I do know that I have PTSD.  I have a severe case of PTSD from the abuse, the rapes and the miscarriages.  I have a pattern of letting people be mean to me because I am afraid.  Not because they scare me but I am so conditioned to be afraid.

She stole my son from me when he was just over a year old.  She was pushing me and I sent him to his father’s for the night so that I could have the night to figure things out.  I went to my best friend’s house and my mother showed up there with her best friend and my sister and told me to get my “shit” out of my car, which was in her name (another control mechanism she used on me) and left me on my best friend’s doorstep telling her that I was her problem now.  She stranded me and got his father to bring him to her and then never let me have him back.  In effect, she kidnapped my son.  I was so terrified of her that I could not fight even though it was tearing my heart out.

I  had lost my job and I had lost my apartment and when I needed my mother to help me, she cast me to the wolves and took the one thing that meant anything to me.  I want to hate her.  I want to cut her out of my life, but here is the thing….even though I know that I am much better than that and I KNOW I do not need her approval or even really want it, I still long for her love.  It makes me so very sad because I know that she will never love me.  She will always punish me for the blood that runs in my veins.  She takes that tone with me and I feel how much she doesn’t care.  I feel her lack of love.  She can say I love you and make you very aware that she does not in the same breath.  These are the hurts that I carry in my soul.  These are the things I have in my mind when I lay down to try to go to sleep at night.  I am so tired of feeling so very worthless and unloveable.  And I am tired of no one listening to me or believing me that she did these things to me.

I told my sister recently and she did not even believe me.  My mother has the family so convinced that I am a drama queen that no one will even listen to me, much less take me seriously.  I have realized that my mother is an evil person.  I just don’t know how to fight her and her money and lawyers.  But I will say that the day my son turns 18 and is graduated from school I will tell her everything that I have held back.

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Love Me Now (or how I learned to stop hiding and take off the mask….)


Everyone has a mask.  Whether their faces looks different with it on or not, it is there.  Some people even have multiple masks.  The masks generally fall into these kinds of categories:

1. Every day mask/Public mask

2. Work mask

3. New relationship mask

4. Party mask

5. Family mask

Now some people don’t wear these different faces.  Some people have no reason to where them and just let their true natures be hanging out there all willy nilly.  There are people out there that have never been injured or hurt by anyone.  People who have never been raped or beaten or threatened or assaulted in any way.  There are many times I feel jealous of those people.  The people who have not ever been hurt and don’t know just how precious life is.  Those people who don’t know what pain is and so cannot empathize with this pain that others feel.  I know that there are a lot of people out in society like that but it honestly baffles me.  How can someone live their entire life without having anything bad happen to them?  How can I go back in time and make myself one of those people?  Where do I sign up?

Alas, there is no time machine (yet!) and I cannot go back in time and undo the rapes, the assaults, the abuse, the miscarriages, the pills, the sex or anything that I have experienced.  So, you may ask how it is that I did learn this very valuable lesson about hiding and letting go of the masks.  I would of course then tell you that it is a very good question.  To be honest, I do not know exactly how I did it.

I do know that I met my husband online when I was 24 and he was 17 and we were friends (JUST friends) online for a lot of years.  He was a really nice guy and I had just gone through a divorce and we were both geeking out at some text based role play gaming.  We kept in touch over the years.  Then one day when I was 30 he asked if he could call me.  I let him do that.  He called and he asked me to do him a favor and take a chance on him.  He said he had been in love with me since he was 17 and that I was his dream girl.  I was stunned.

Not long before this, actually labor day weekend that same year, I had let a man that wanted to date me come to my house and bring his son.  That man had raped me with his small son in the next room.  I was nervous beyond belief.  I was going to be at my house all alone with this guy that I had not ever been all alone with before.  He flew in to the airport here in Indiana.  He had been living in Georgia but was from Panama.  He had been back and forth between Georgia and Panama most of his life.  He was 23 and I know he was nervous too but he did not wear a mask.  He was the very first person that I think I had ever met in the world that had absolutely no artifice to him whatsoever.

In time he moved to Indiana and we lived together for a while.  We got married last year in November.  We are coming up on our 1 year married and 3 year together anniversaries.  In that time I have slowly let the masks fall away.  I have let them go because I found that I do not need them anymore.  I found safety.  I found home.

This is not saying that you cannot have safety and home without a partner.  This is saying that I found someone that I can feel safe with and know that he will not ever try to hurt me.  It feels good to let my face breathe again.  Maybe one day my rose colored glasses will be restored.  One can only hope….