What Woke You Up?

[lm1109]

I recently tried something that a favorite author recommended. It's called Rage On The Page. It's like journaling but specifically to release the anger/rage within. Of course, I'm angry about SO much. I'm angry that I endured abuse my whole life, I'm angry that I wasted so much of my energy on my abuser, I'm angry about all of the lies...I'm angry about too much to name! What I'm finding is that I have this one specific incident that I am beyond struggling to let go. Maybe I never will..maybe I'm not supposed to let it go? My hope is that by writing it out and "sharing" it, maybe, it will help me to release some of the anger and shame I have surrounding it. Forgive me if I already shared this story, I have been processing this one for quite a while and I keep learning from it each time I find the bravery to revisit it.

 I developed an eating disorder at around 12 years old. My mom had an eating disorder(undiagnosed..of course) and was utterly obsessed with EVERYONE elses weight. As her only daughter, I was the main target in this arena. She picked me apart, called me names, told me I needed to lose my "baby fat", and encouraged my brother to pick my appearance apart as well. When I look at young photos of myself now, I see the truth. I was a beautiful little girl, who was NEVER fat or ugly, but of course I believed her. One day I decided that I would work out to lose weight. I felt amazing afterwards, I needed that release of energy in my life(today exercise is my therapy..so I believe this would have been a very positive force for me in my teenage years) But...When I walked downstairs my mom told me that it sounded like an elephant was jumping around upstairs and she told me that she had been afraid I was going to break through the floor. I was humiliated, I never worked out in that house again, and that night I began my journey with bulimia and anorexia! By age 17, it was apparent and out of control, I was VERY thin. One night my best friend confronted me and I chose to tell her the truth. I wanted to get better...but I begged her not to tell. As a concerned friend, she told her mom, her mom called my mom, and it was a real sh*t show! My friends mom met my REAL mom that day on the phone and was horrified! She apologized profusely for telling her and asked me to move in with them. When I went home my Mom raged at me. She wasn't upset that I had an eating disorder that could potentially kill me, she was upset that I TOLD! She was upset that it made HER look bad! I packed my stuff and moved in with my friend for a few weeks. Eventually my mom threatened to call the police if I didn't come home. The day I came home and walked through the door she told me that my cat was gone. When I asked her what happened she coldly and condescendingly responded that she didn't know what happened to it and said "I guess you shouldn't have f***ing left!" I literally had chills run down my spine when I saw actual joy in her face that she had found a way to hurt me so badly. I had a deeper connection to that cat then my own family. (Years later she admitted to driving my Dad's cat far away from the house and throwing him out of the car when she was mad at him...so I'm sure that is what she did to mine as well) That night in my room I sat alone, my cat was gone, my brother had left for the military, my eating disorder had been exposed and I was offered ZERO help... instead I was punished for telling a sick family secret. I felt broken, ashamed, alone, and I contemplated suicide in a very real way. Then, I had what I considered a "Spiritual Experience" I felt a love wash through my body and for the first time I recognized how mentally ill SHE was! I had a knowing inside of me that once I got out of that sick house...I would get better! I left months later at 18 and sought help at age 20. I did get better, and I am currently getting even better with each day. I never spoke to either one of my parents about my eating disorder again until about a year ago. I received my yoga certification and I had a conversation with my mom about yoga. I mentioned how yoga helped reconnect me to my body, and how I needed that since I had an eating disorder. She responded that she ALSO had an eating disorder, very nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal then quickly moved onto another subject. I had to end the conversation. It was the first time I allowed myself to fully feel the rage and pain of how mistreated I was and it was the beginning of the end for me with my Mom. Of course she had an eating disorder. She abused me because of her own self hatred and then when I admitted that I was sick from the abuse...she put me through hell and it literally almost killed me.
In the same way that I had recognized that I had to leave that house to get better at 17, I recognized at 33 that I was going to have to walk away to fully heal the deep wounds she caused.(It took another year and another very abusive incident to act on this)I accept that I will never receive an apology, I will never receive recognition of any of the abuse or neglect...but I can't accept the insult to injury WHILE healing. I can't keep stuffing my own pain to protect her(and my dad) from pain. For my situation, I recognized that there needs to be space for my own healing. A relationship is impossible right now with all of the resentments I'm currently experiencing. I was so focused on being a good mom to my children for the last decade of my life...that I totally neglected myself and my own inner child suffered. I equated being a "good mom" with sacrificing myself completely. Now I know I'm a better Mom when I'm loving myself too.

 I have a deep inner knowing that, one day, I will use all of this pain for good. I will help others heal their nervous systems and release trauma from their bodies through yoga. But today, I'm just accepting that all I can do is sit in the discomfort of my OWN trauma. Inner child work has been beautiful in some ways but also absolutely brutal! Today I'm focusing on loving my very sick yet VERY BRAVE 17 year old inner child! It's 10 AM and I wish I could take a nap...I can't...I'm exhausted...that's my truth right now!

Wondered if anyone else has a specific incident/memory that you still struggle to work through or an incident that awakened or changed you that you would like to share? What made you awaken to the fact that your bpd loved one was sick? Thanks for reading my rant! Wishing you all peace and healing!

[Goldcrest]

lm1109 I hear you and I am so sorry you suffered with an eating disorder and through the horrid distortions of your mother. I am so sorry about your cat too, that is the most nasty thing to do, reading that made me feel physically sick, that is sadistic. My mother gave away my rabbit when I was a child. They know exactly how to get to us. Animals have always been such a comfort for me.

I too had an eating disorder due to my mother competing with me over weight. My mother would measure my body with a tape measure, then measure hers, she used me as a mirror. I was heavier than her and boy did she make sure that was something to be ashamed of. I became bulimic and depressed after finally leaving my paedophille boyfriend but thankfully it was the start of my finding therapy and someone validating what I had known from quite a young age, that my mother was killing me. I am proud to say that at such a young age I used the money from working to pay for my therapy.

The one memory (of many horrors) was when I was on holiday and my hair got very knotted underneath. I was so afraid to tell my mother because she used to plait my hair and would get aggressive (hitting me with the brush if I didn't keep still). My brother told on me, during a childish argument, and at first she was okay about it. She told me not to worry and we will get it sorted. I foolishly believed it would be okay but she took me to the bathroom and when she couldn't remove it, using lots of conditioner, she started to cry and rage and smacked my head against the bath (I was on my knees with my head over the bath). I was distraught. She then marched me half naked (I had started to develop breasts) into where my dad and brother were, and pushed me towards them. I just remember the intense shame of my body being seen by them. My dad did nothing. He just rushed to comfort and sort my mother out.

That memory has all the aspects, the rage, the violence, the shaming and then my dad doing absolutely nothing to comfort me.

[zachira]

I respect you for becoming a better mom by deciding to love yourself too.
There are many moments which woke me up and the journey continues as I deal with several generations of a profoundly narcissistic family system which includes many members with BPD and NPD.
The most recent incident which woke me up was when I went to a family gathering and one member was furious that a friend of his had come to his party and talked about how grateful she was after I had helped her at the scene of her car accident. The family member treated me with contempt the whole evening and refused to hug me at the end of the night while doing so with everybody else. Nobody stopped his mistreatment of me. It reminded me of how my aunt who was also a family scapegoat made endless sacrifices for the family and how resentful my parents were when they had to thank my aunt for helping their children when there were two serious family crisis when my parents were out of town. It made me realize that the narcissistic family system needs the scapegoat to dump their own self hatred on, and having the scapegoat do anything that shows the scapegoat to be a decent human being in their own right dystabilizes the narcissistic family system. I realize that my role in the family was to be a failure in life from the family's point of view and this is why no matter what I did to be liked and loved, that there has never been any hope for it to happen. I am now so aware of how I feel around certain people. I am noticing more and more that the narcissists flock together and the healthy people look for authentic connections with others while having no interest in narcissistic transactional rigidly defined relationships.

[Notwendy]

When my mother got angry at me and used my father to hurt me back. It was deliberate, and pre-meditated. She wanted to hurt, and so she chose the one thing in her power that I was most attached to.

On the day of his funeral, I learned she had plans to not let me have some sentimental items I wanted. She had discussed this with some people in her circle and instructed them to not speak to me. They complied but one eventually told me. She has denied it.

Even before he died, she had influenced our relationship. I didn't want the items for me- I wanted them for my children who had a good relationship with my father.

Anyone who knew me would know how I felt about my father. I was very attached to him. I didn't think she'd go that far- to do this to a grieving person.

Now, I know what she's capable of. I'm not actually angry. This is who she is. I knew she has BPD and can be verbally and emotionally abusive. I guess I imagined she might show some restraint at such a time. I am still in contact with her, and treat her fairly. Some of her behavior is due to her being dysregulated but this was not.

[Riv3rW0lf]

I am not sure. I think part of me always knew something was wrong, I remember getting at school and telling my friend how my mother had just screamed at me for something that was not my fault, but hers (being arrested for driving too fast... Like little seven years old me was responsible for that...).

And so, when my father offered me to go live with him full time when I was fourteen, I jumped at the occasion to start anew.

I think the distance that this caused between my mother and I transformed our relationship. She wanted to get me back, gain my favors, and so she acted almost normal.

I really knew something was off with my childhood when I had my daughter, and my whole body was so stressed of seeing my mother with her. I felt pure rage and fear, and everytime she took her from my arms, it felt like she was stealing her, which I didn't feel with my mother in law. And so... That's when I started looking at my past.

Still, the past year, I believed again she was cured, that she had changed, I thought we had both changed and could work out a relationship, only to learn the hard way nothing had changed.

She is just nice with me to get to my kids. She has no issue disowning me and the only reason she comes back on her word is because she knows quite well she cannot see my children without my approval. Which she doesn't have right now.

It took her one day of me being at her house to compare our size and say she was thinner than me, 3 days to start being emotionnally unstable because I mentionned my father and one week to downright abuse, slamming doors and saying I was the worst, I didn't understand her, how she was doing her best and I was abusing her... All this because I told her not to give a specific toy to my then 7 months old because it was quite litterally a choking hazard.

I reverted back to a little kid scared to death, brought back childhood traumas I had forgotten. I know I have forgotten many things... When my body fell into a foetal position, and I couldn't keep myself from rocking back and forth in her basement, I realized my past was worst than what my mind knows and remembers.

I am pretty sure now I was molested by one of her boyfriend, the only one I cannot remember. I remember everything from his house, his dog, his garage, his bar... But not his face. I remember the previous boyfriends and the one that follows, but he is just a pitch black shadow. Yet, she was two years with him and we stayed at his house. I was 7, I should remember him. I might never know if this is true or not, just the dreams and an overall feeling. I got very good at dissociating and so I just don't have many memories of abuse. This might also just be my mind going crazy from trying to remember.

And this lack of memories made it easy to get back in the relationship with her, again and again... I just somehow accepted I was the problem and went right along with it, because I just don't remember what she did to me. Mostly I remember she was either ignoring me or criticizing me, but I was so numb, it went right through one ear, out the other...

What woke me up? ... My body aching.

[lm1109]

Thank you all for your responses. I wish none of us experienced abuse, but somehow everyone sharing their stories on this forum really does help to feel less alone, which is actually very healing for me. I spent most of my life feeling immense shame about my family and the abuse I've experienced. I have friends that I've literally known for years who know nothing about my past or current situation with my FOO. Its something I'm really trying to work on, being less walled off to everyone, but I also know that my situation is one that most people couldn't possibly understand unless raised in a BPD/npd/alcoholic home.

 For me, waking up to the severity of the manipulation and abuse after all of these years also meant waking up to all of my OWN issues that stemmed from all of the trauma that I still need to work on, like immense trust issues and shame deep within me. Some days I feel like I've "got it" and other days I just feel beat up by life! Wishing you all lots of peace and healing 

[Riv3rW0lf]

I absolutely hear you there Im1109.

I feel the exact same. Since I've taking the leap toward healing, it's like I've been forced to take a hard long look at myself, how all of this actually affected me.

I feel like, for most of my life, I was a zombie going through the motion of living, wishing upon death to take me without having the actual nerve to do it. And boy am I glad I didn't, because I finally met a kind soul that loved me, and wanted to see me for who I was. Gave me two children I love so very much. I never experienced this much loved. My daughter was laughing earlier, one of those moments where we were all playing together as a family and it made my hearth so full. Her joy is contagious, so contagious and seeing her free, it frees me as well.

But then, other days, even this morning, I still tend to just go through the motion.

But like you said on other posts, I think this is the reality of many people... So somehow, I am thankful I was abused, because it made me aware there is more to life than ... Moving. I can actually try to be. As hard as it is sometimes, at least it gives me an objective... Working on myself, becoming myself. It offers a sense of meaning to my life.

This is starting to look like a rant. But yeah, one day at a time takes all its meaning when we go through those heavy days, but then, they make us realize, when a good day hit, all the road we've travelled to get here.

Hugs

[Turkish]

I sorry that you suffered from your mother projecting her own lack of self-worth and distorted world-view upon you, a child who wouldn't know any better. You don't know what you don't know. Yet I'm glad that you took a journey to heal. The deal with the cats slouches towards evil, though definitely cruel towards three innocent entities.

I have a genetic condition where I can't sweat. It's potentially deadly. My mom did a good job taking care of me for a decade, but that ended one summer. Despite my protests, she took me from the mountains to the central valley in California when it was a 112-114F day. She was going to sell puppies. It was hot where we were, but there was shade, age the river a mile shaded walk down the canyon road. I begged her to let me stay, but she had to bring me back for the swim team marathon. I should have run into the woods.

I survived the ride down, but was close to falling into a coma on the way back in the hottest part of the day. I could barely walk, tunnel vision, pins and needles in my whole body. I was 12. It was then that I realized that I couldn't trust my mother to keep me safe.

I moved out on my 18th birthday.

[CryingGame]

Thank you for this thread. I'm so sorry about your Mom. I relate to a lot of your story and the other ones here. One time when I was about 14 I was on the phone and told my friend that my mother was yelling at my Dad. She was but she still heard me. I learned later from my friend that my mother went over to her house and explained to my friend and her family something----to the effect of I was wrong in saying that or she wasn't yelling or something, not sure what but similar to your Mom showing her true colors to your friend's Mom.

What woke me up? I guess I'm just waking up now. But I did move out a month before my 18th birthday, 44 yrs ago, and tried to move out a year before that. I left home and never looked back. Moved very far away. BUT I have clung so tightly to the hope of having it be a good mom/daughter relationship ... finally I thought it would be as the last 3 yrs went pretty well, all only by phone. But, as another post said, IT WAS RIGGED. I think it's woken me up some. Instead of feeling only like a victim I have lots of other awarenesses on board. Of her disease. Of the silly truth, history repeats itself, it was inevitable.

Still so hard to believe I can be scape goated like this ... that her perception is so warped and dramatic and final and rude and crazy and hurtful.

I too have an eating disorder. But this time I don't feel as much desire to "have her back" as I have in the past. This time I ask myself, would I, could I ... or might I say, no. No thank you, not coming back for more.

How to grieve. Will I grieve more now, more when she dies ... never be able to fully grieve is what I fear.

Thank you.

[lm1109]

 My daughter was laughing earlier, one of those moments where we were all playing together as a family and it made my hearth so full. Her joy is contagious, so contagious and seeing her free, it frees me as well.

I smiled when I read that...I'm so thankful that
I feel that as well. We talked about feeling joy and sadness at the same time, I've realized that I feel immense gratitude as well. Watching my kids be free and have fun fills me with gratitude that they will never experience this pain that I'm feeling, they have a deep knowing that they are loved, and they'll always have that. I know that I can never be a perfect Mom(none of us can) but I CAN love them unconditionally, and I absolutely do, so I guess I'm getting a little better at giving myself credit and loving myself as well! They make processing this painful generational trauma worth it.

I left home and never looked back. Moved very far away. BUT I have clung so tightly to the hope of having it be a good mom/daughter relationship

I did this as well. I think it's natural to want that, it's mothers who don't want that relationship that is unnatural. As a mom, I have a hard time grasping how my mom could be so abusive and unloving towards her own children. The only thing that makes sense is, it's the disease. I still fault her for refusing ANY help, but I guess the best thing I can do is be grateful that I don't have what she has. Of course we are all affected by our abuse... But to never experience the deep love for a child in a healthy way? Or the deep love for a spouse, friend, or pet? Of course it's sad for me, but I'm realizing it's even more sad for her. I had a realization the other day that I love my dog more then she has ever loved me as a child. I experience deep love for my dog and I could NEVER ever hurt him, abuse him, get rid of him, or even be mean to him! So...I guess my goal right now is feeling the gratitude as much as I can and focusing on the love I DO have and the love I CAN and WILL create for myself in this life. It doesn't make it less sad that I missed out on a mother's love but it reminds me that it serves me MUCH better to invest my time and energy into the love that I have in my life that is reciprocated. It serves me to accept the
VERY painful fact that the love has never been and will never be reciprocated with my mom and I deserve to be loved back...so do you...we all do. So for now...I'm going to put my energy towards myself and healthy relationships.

Thank you all for sharing your stories! Sending you all SO much support!

[beatricex]

hi IM1109,
Oh gosh, I'm sorry you went through this painful experience, it sounds awful.  After confiding in your friend, you had to seek out another friend to go live with, just to get away from it all.  This is truly remarkable to me how a mother with BPD can project all their junk onto us, say we're sick, remark how we need help, we need counseling, we're defective, need to change, or whatever, yet then they offer absolutely nothing in the way of help - ie nurturing, kindness or actual motherly assistance!  Anger, yes I get it.  Have it too.

My woke self considers I must remember she is 90% projecting her stuff onto me, and the other 10% of the time, just operating in pure survival mode.  It's not personal, she's sick.  I don't have to internalize it, and if it's too late and I already have, and I feel crappy, have a bad day, I can release it.  Give it over to God, or a higher being.  I have to recall specific instances to make sure I'm right on this.  14 years ago, my parents foreclosed on their house, my childhood home.  Somewhere in the middle of this foreclosure process, they decided to forward all their mail to my youngest sister, shut off their phone, and move to a foreign country.  They stayed about a half a year, while my sister opened their letters, dealt with the aftermath the best she could, and fielded calls from their creditors.  At this time, I was no contact with my parents and most of my sibilings.  My mom at some point in her financial ordeal, contacted some of my childhood friends.  One of them reached out to me and said something like "your mom contacted me, she's very concerned for your welfare, she says you're estranged from the family?  Anyway, maybe you could call her..."  At the time I did not know my parents had foreclosed on the family home and skipped town for Europe.  Here she was tellin anyone that would listen that knew me I was "probably homeless" don't know what else was implied but I can imagine it wasn't flattering, when I had a good job, owned a house and she was sending me birthday cards, so she knew where I lived and that I was indeed NOT homeless.  Her and my Dad on the other hand?  They were dang close because of her!  She's terrible with money. Insane crazy making this projection stuff is.  "you will get fat like me"  echos in my head a lot.  It's my "incident" too, the eating disorder stuff (I still can't fully admit it all like you did).  I take it a step further, just so I can remember the Projection is real - I can imagine her saying "and you will be homeless like me" like she wishes it on me!

Today, my woke self remembers she's sick, mentally ill, not me.  My woke self hits pause on the tape in my head that is her voice.  The one saying "you are no good, people don't like you, you can't make it in the world without me, I control you!"  ugh  Totally get it, the food issues.  I had them too.  I never dared tell anyone, for the exact reasons you bring up, and for the fear of what you described happening.
   Thank you for sharing IM1109
b

[lm1109]

.
My woke self considers I must remember she is 90% projecting her stuff onto me, and the other 10% of the time, just operating in pure survival mode.  It's not personal, she's sick.  I don't have to internalize it, and if it's too late and I already have, and I feel crappy, have a bad day, I can release it.  Give it over to God, or a higher being.  I have to recall specific instances to make sure I'm right on this. 

Thank you for this, it really resonated. When I start to feel the pain of her words I have to remind myself that they are indeed projections, HER stuff, not mine.

You mentioned having to recall specific instances to make sure you're right. I feel like that's what I've been doing a lot lately as well. I just remarked to my husband that it's as if these memories keep flowing to me so that I can constantly justify my going NC. At this point though, I wish it would stop, I KNOW I'm justified! I suppose they may also be flowing to me to KEEP me NC, since I have always reverted back to my guilt and caretaking in the past. This is the first time I've actually dove deep into the pain pool, I had always just been floating at the surface to protect them and the "relationship"

Thanks again for your response, I totally agree with your 90/10 ratio!

[Riv3rW0lf]

Thank you for this, it really resonated. When I start to feel the pain of her words I have to remind myself that they are indeed projections, HER stuff, not mine.

You mentioned having to recall specific instances to make sure you're right. I feel like that's what I've been doing a lot lately as well. I just remarked to my husband that it's as if these memories keep flowing to me so that I can constantly justify my going NC. At this point though, I wish it would stop, I KNOW I'm justified! I suppose they may also be flowing to me to KEEP me NC, since I have always reverted back to my guilt and caretaking in the past. This is the first time I've actually dove deep into the pain pool, I had always just been floating at the surface to protect them and the "relationship"

Thanks again for your response, I totally agree with your 90/10 ratio!

Interesting for the memories. Memories you know about or repressed memories?

Have you noticed a change in your dreams as well?

I have been pretty much no contact for a couple weeks now, but unannounced. I just ignore her and don't answer her basically. And I noticed my unconscious seems to be releasing memories here and there, mostly repressed, via my dreams... I stumble, it triggers me, and  I am a bit off until I write it down. Then the next night, I dream I am talking with my mother and asserting myself. I feel calmer the next day. Then nothing. And then the cycle repeats itself. It's weird how I feel my self knows exactly how to heal and seems to be doing it at its own pace.

I mostly feel like right now, my brain is trying to make my mother appear smaller, less terrorizing, maybe to help my exiles come back to life, which in turn brings back memories that I can process, integrate to my life story, heal and move on.

It's interesting how everything unfolds once we embark on the journey of recovery and of finding ourselves.

[lm1109]

Interesting for the memories. Memories you know about or repressed memories?

Both. I've had repressed memories surface in the last year, but the majority of them are memories that I never reexamined with adult perspective. I feel like I was afraid to admit to myself just how abusive my childhood actually was.

Have you noticed a change in your dreams as well?

Yes! I've been expressing a lot of anger through my dreams lately. Dreams of me confronting, raging, and hitting my parents. It makes sense to me, since my anger was stifled. In all honesty, my reexamination of these memories started from a dream at the beginning of 2020. It was a dream(which was of a memory...one that I remembered) of my brother warning me before he left for the military. He told me that once he was gone she was going to come after me hard, because he wouldn't be there to take the brunt of it. And then he told me "You BETTER fight back!" He made me promise him that Id fight back. Then the dream shifted to another memory of my Dad beating up my brother. I recognized in the dream that I was an adult watching it instead of my child self. I had always believed that my brother and Dad got into "fights"(because my brother fought back) In the dream, I saw it for what it was, a full grown man beating up his child(about the age of my oldest child..13 years old) I told myself back then that they were "fights" because I believed what we were told, that we deserved it all. I now know it was abuse, mentally and physically.

This dream of these memories really woke me up! Looking back, it's absolutely amazing to me that my brother was SO aware of our family dynamics, so much so, that I believe he scapegoated himself to protect me. Also, he was right, she came after me HARD after he left. I was 15 when he left and those 3 years were hell. I actually remember hearing his voice in my head about fighting back when she came after me physically, and I did fight back and that was the last time she tried to fight me, aside from one other time when I was PREGNANT and she KNEW I would NEVER engage. I've come to realize that I was not parented by adults, but by children trapped in adult bodies. Whatever trauma my parents endured froze them in time. My mom was not a mother, she was still the 14 year old abused bully in the schoolyard. These memories have been really hard to relive, but also extremely validating and helpful in healing this dark generational trauma that I come from.

On a bright note..I'm SO happy to see this board back up..it's such a support!

[Riv3rW0lf]

Both. I've had repressed memories surface in the last year, but the majority of them are memories that I never reexamined with adult perspective. I feel like I was afraid to admit to myself just how abusive my childhood actually was.

I can absolutely relate to that.

I feel like having my daughter woke me up to my life. Until then, I was on autopilot, assuming my childhood had been hard but manageable, not too abusive, just a normal abusive, and just ... Wandering through life, making choices without trying to understand why, staying above the surface.

It's like having her forced my Self to come back, because suddenly I was responsible for the most precious thing in the whole world and wandering around would not do it. It's like my Self woke up when the mother part of me came to life. And it's also like I woke up in someone else's life somehow and am slowly trying to integrate and accept my life for what it is: mine. And to do that, I need to make sense of it, of my story line, which I never really reflected on prior to my first born.

Yes! I've been expressing a lot of anger through my dreams lately. Dreams of me confronting, raging, and hitting my parents. It makes sense to me, since my anger was stifled. In all honesty, my reexamination of these memories started from a dream at the beginning of 2020. It was a dream(which was of a memory...one that I remembered) of my brother warning me before he left for the military. He told me that once he was gone she was going to come after me hard, because he wouldn't be there to take the brunt of it. And then he told me "You BETTER fight back!" He made me promise him that Id fight back. Then the dream shifted to another memory of my Dad beating up my brother. I recognized in the dream that I was an adult watching it instead of my child self. I had always believed that my brother and Dad got into "fights"(because my brother fought back) In the dream, I saw it for what it was, a full grown man beating up his child(about the age of my oldest child..13 years old) I told myself back then that they were "fights" because I believed what we were told, that we deserved it all. I now know it was abuse, mentally and physically.

Reading about your dreams gave me chills. It's great that your brother and you were able to remain allies despite the abusive dynamic of your family. It is crazy, how they could convince us that all those behaviors were ok, and normal... Children can't know what they don't know.  

They should have known, but like you said, I also feel like my mother got stuck in time somewhere because of her own trauma. She often says she doesn't feel like our mother, and indeed she is not, she is a traumatized child stuck in a grown up body, which made her very dangerous as a mother... But not so much now that I am an adult. If I could just detach myself enough to stop seeing her as my mother, I am hopeful I could stop suffering from her attacks and critics. Just gotta find the right boundaries.  

This dream of these memories really woke me up! Looking back, it's absolutely amazing to me that my brother was SO aware of our family dynamics, so much so, that I believe he scapegoated himself to protect me. Also, he was right, she came after me HARD after he left. I was 15 when he left and those 3 years were hell. I actually remember hearing his voice in my head about fighting back when she came after me physically, and I did fight back and that was the last time she tried to fight me, aside from one other time when I was PREGNANT and she KNEW I would NEVER engage. I've come to realize that I was not parented by adults, but by children trapped in adult bodies. Whatever trauma my parents endured froze them in time. My mom was not a mother, she was still the 14 year old abused bully in the schoolyard. These memories have been really hard to relive, but also extremely validating and helpful in healing this dark generational trauma that I come from.

When we really want to live (as opposed to survive), the self finds a way to reemerge.  

My mother would shake me hard when I was young and she got mad. I remember her trying to do it again when I hit 12. I had talked back and she followed me into my room and grasped my arms. And I started scream to let go of me, using my full weight to push her away. And she did. It hits me now that she is actually weak. She hurt me as a child because children are small.. How messed up is that. For a grown adult to use their full strength on children... It is just hitting me now. She is weak. She cannot fight actual adults. And so, I just have to start acting like one in front of her.

I feel your love for your brother. It makes my heart whole to know you had someone trying to keep you safe during those dark times.

[WalkbyFaith]

 

I've come to realize that I was not parented by adults, but by children trapped in adult bodies.

Wow. Mic drop moment right there! I will be thinking on this one for a while...