A Chapter Of My Story: Summed Up
Today I wanna talk about my mother although I sometimes have trouble calling her a mother and sometimes I'm more able to. As usual tis is always me in the Raw and Real with my Supporters.
I know that she is a mother and I have always tried to read between the lines, see through the cracks, look behind what's visible and put myself in her shoes, I doubt however, that she has ever done the same for me. Growing up I was always the mother figure, sadly that role extended far beyond my wildest nightmares but this is a part of my story.
We never hugged or said 'I love you', waking up in the. Morning always consisted of screaming and swearing & lunch boxes were never made. We would catch a glimpse of each other walking down the stairs & it always was a gamble "am I going to get hit across the head or not" kind of gamble.
Most days I didn't go to school, I stayed home to clean & cook but I think god still gave me the gift of writing & art.
My mother had no idea of my first abuse and first abuser, how could she, she was either not around or didn't pay much attention. I was really young when I knew a lot about sexual moves and stuff. By the age of ten, my mother caught my second abuser on the FIRST night that I was ever abused. She yelled and screamed but she was yelling and screaming for the man to remain in her life.
That night I was 10, my mother never asked me anything about it nor did she remove me from the situation. Few months went past & the abuser noticed he got a free pass, so he started abusing me again and again and again. Another family member saw the abuse but they were younger than me so the abuse continued.
By the time I was 12 years old, I reached out for help once again, this time I spoke with two other family members. They turned a blind eye and never again asked me if I was ok nor did they confront my abuser. The abuse went on. During this time, I entered high school and I always had a smile on my face to mask the terror I was going through inside.
The next time I spoke up I was 15 yrs old, I was desperate for the abuse to stop. Both my mother and the abuser would also physically and verbally abuse me, I felt like there was no way out. I wanted to run away but instead I called for help again. This time I got taken seriously only as the person I told went to confront my mother about it, my mother said I was lying. With my head down, I was so ashamed and broken at that moment I knew I could never forgive my mother. She let all these years of trauma happen to me & I haven't even told you of all the abuse she herself casted on me. The terrible physical and verbal abuse.
The abuse continued, mother was hardly ever home, she worked nights. She would lock me in the house, lock doors and windows, sometimes I was smart enough to get spare keys ready but sometimes not.
In 2006 I first spoke of abuser number one. Go figure that the first person I told was abuser number 2. His response made me so sick, he ( abuser no#2 ) said that he knew that I was being abused by abuser no#1 or at least he thought so. That was like a kick to the stomach to me and I had been kicked in the stomach and bruised head to toe many times by abuser no#2.
I then got married and that's when all the abuse aftermath came flowing out, I wasn't that bad considering but my trust in men or the world was shocking. I was filled with fear and lacked understanding on a lot of things, I didn't have the skills to live my best life, I was drowning, holding on my a tiny thread.
My marriage was on the rocks, my husband had Asperges & it's funny because its the reason I felt safe with him yet later on my mother insisted in saying that my husband was super quiet because I forced him to be that way. I was so brain washed, and so controlled that I would yell at my husband every day for him to talk more and be loud. He couldn't do it, the Asperges makes him this quiet gentle soul and yet my mother insisted I was crazy & made him not communicate.
We eventually got so tired, tired of not understanding myself, not understanding what my emotions where towards everyone. My husband was having trouble understanding why I was at my abusers beck n call. I was so controlled but I was so innocent and pure. In my heart I honestly cared for everyone and I think I believed that it was all a bad dream and would go away.
Mother and I have never really gotten along until a few years ago when I took a fall, I was at rock bottom and I gave myself two options.
LIVE OR DIE.
live meaning reprogram everything about the world u know and face all the monsters and delete the abusers
Or
Die, jump off and end it now (and I had already had an almost successful suicide attempt before & yes my mother was the instigator) . And you know what..? This is why I tell people this isn't an option, Suicide is NOT an option, If I had chosen this. Look at the woman I wouldn't be today. And I was right there at the bottom. Now I RISE.
My mother has put me through so much hell, she has been best friends with my abusers and never stopped. When abuser no#1 killed himself she accused me, she blamed me. As a mother that has to be one of the worst things you can say to a daughter. She is an abuse victim herself or so she says, she lies a lot but I have always chosen to believe her and I have tried to find a way to forgive her actions & understand. I've always been there to help, every operation, after every overdose, every everything.
Every birthday, every Christmas, she has never bought me a gift, not a flower, not a card, not for as long as I can remember, yet she will buys a zillion presents for other people. I'm never one to want anything, I know what's its like to have and not have but it always hurts when I see her give gifts to others and I think, why doesn't she think of me?
She, even until today belittles me for speaking up, she says her abuse happened 40 years ago, she speaks of it so often and remains a victim from what I can see. Yet she, even today has tried to make me feel bad for speaking up after 25 years was her txt to me
25 yrs? How can that be, I am only 31 & who cares how long it takes me or others to speak up. In actual fact the first time I spoke up I was 12 years old .and she was well aware I spoke up heaps of times and SHE was the one who stopped the help from coming. Mother also tries to make me feel bad for the abuser, Yet not once have I named and shamed him. This is my help journey and I am so much better than that. I don't tear people down like they do.
I realised I always thought I had to be there for my mother. In a perfect world, when I close my eyes. When I open my eyes I see that there can never be full forgiveness if I hang around because she will always say something hurtful, she will always show that her loyalty lies somewhere else.
This is one of those times where to set myself free, yourself free..you have to forgive and walk away no matter how much it hurts.
You cant be around people who don't believe in you and you cant let people drag you down. A true mother would not do what was done to me and the quicker I let go of this dream that just wont ever be..the sooner I will be FREE.
And that's just the tip of the ice berg
Isabella Grand
I know that she is a mother and I have always tried to read between the lines, see through the cracks, look behind what's visible and put myself in her shoes, I doubt however, that she has ever done the same for me. Growing up I was always the mother figure, sadly that role extended far beyond my wildest nightmares but this is a part of my story.
We never hugged or said 'I love you', waking up in the. Morning always consisted of screaming and swearing & lunch boxes were never made. We would catch a glimpse of each other walking down the stairs & it always was a gamble "am I going to get hit across the head or not" kind of gamble.
Most days I didn't go to school, I stayed home to clean & cook but I think god still gave me the gift of writing & art.
My mother had no idea of my first abuse and first abuser, how could she, she was either not around or didn't pay much attention. I was really young when I knew a lot about sexual moves and stuff. By the age of ten, my mother caught my second abuser on the FIRST night that I was ever abused. She yelled and screamed but she was yelling and screaming for the man to remain in her life.
That night I was 10, my mother never asked me anything about it nor did she remove me from the situation. Few months went past & the abuser noticed he got a free pass, so he started abusing me again and again and again. Another family member saw the abuse but they were younger than me so the abuse continued.
By the time I was 12 years old, I reached out for help once again, this time I spoke with two other family members. They turned a blind eye and never again asked me if I was ok nor did they confront my abuser. The abuse went on. During this time, I entered high school and I always had a smile on my face to mask the terror I was going through inside.
The next time I spoke up I was 15 yrs old, I was desperate for the abuse to stop. Both my mother and the abuser would also physically and verbally abuse me, I felt like there was no way out. I wanted to run away but instead I called for help again. This time I got taken seriously only as the person I told went to confront my mother about it, my mother said I was lying. With my head down, I was so ashamed and broken at that moment I knew I could never forgive my mother. She let all these years of trauma happen to me & I haven't even told you of all the abuse she herself casted on me. The terrible physical and verbal abuse.
The abuse continued, mother was hardly ever home, she worked nights. She would lock me in the house, lock doors and windows, sometimes I was smart enough to get spare keys ready but sometimes not.
In 2006 I first spoke of abuser number one. Go figure that the first person I told was abuser number 2. His response made me so sick, he ( abuser no#2 ) said that he knew that I was being abused by abuser no#1 or at least he thought so. That was like a kick to the stomach to me and I had been kicked in the stomach and bruised head to toe many times by abuser no#2.
I then got married and that's when all the abuse aftermath came flowing out, I wasn't that bad considering but my trust in men or the world was shocking. I was filled with fear and lacked understanding on a lot of things, I didn't have the skills to live my best life, I was drowning, holding on my a tiny thread.
My marriage was on the rocks, my husband had Asperges & it's funny because its the reason I felt safe with him yet later on my mother insisted in saying that my husband was super quiet because I forced him to be that way. I was so brain washed, and so controlled that I would yell at my husband every day for him to talk more and be loud. He couldn't do it, the Asperges makes him this quiet gentle soul and yet my mother insisted I was crazy & made him not communicate.
We eventually got so tired, tired of not understanding myself, not understanding what my emotions where towards everyone. My husband was having trouble understanding why I was at my abusers beck n call. I was so controlled but I was so innocent and pure. In my heart I honestly cared for everyone and I think I believed that it was all a bad dream and would go away.
Mother and I have never really gotten along until a few years ago when I took a fall, I was at rock bottom and I gave myself two options.
LIVE OR DIE.
live meaning reprogram everything about the world u know and face all the monsters and delete the abusers
Or
Die, jump off and end it now (and I had already had an almost successful suicide attempt before & yes my mother was the instigator) . And you know what..? This is why I tell people this isn't an option, Suicide is NOT an option, If I had chosen this. Look at the woman I wouldn't be today. And I was right there at the bottom. Now I RISE.
My mother has put me through so much hell, she has been best friends with my abusers and never stopped. When abuser no#1 killed himself she accused me, she blamed me. As a mother that has to be one of the worst things you can say to a daughter. She is an abuse victim herself or so she says, she lies a lot but I have always chosen to believe her and I have tried to find a way to forgive her actions & understand. I've always been there to help, every operation, after every overdose, every everything.
Every birthday, every Christmas, she has never bought me a gift, not a flower, not a card, not for as long as I can remember, yet she will buys a zillion presents for other people. I'm never one to want anything, I know what's its like to have and not have but it always hurts when I see her give gifts to others and I think, why doesn't she think of me?
She, even until today belittles me for speaking up, she says her abuse happened 40 years ago, she speaks of it so often and remains a victim from what I can see. Yet she, even today has tried to make me feel bad for speaking up after 25 years was her txt to me
25 yrs? How can that be, I am only 31 & who cares how long it takes me or others to speak up. In actual fact the first time I spoke up I was 12 years old .and she was well aware I spoke up heaps of times and SHE was the one who stopped the help from coming. Mother also tries to make me feel bad for the abuser, Yet not once have I named and shamed him. This is my help journey and I am so much better than that. I don't tear people down like they do.
I realised I always thought I had to be there for my mother. In a perfect world, when I close my eyes. When I open my eyes I see that there can never be full forgiveness if I hang around because she will always say something hurtful, she will always show that her loyalty lies somewhere else.
This is one of those times where to set myself free, yourself free..you have to forgive and walk away no matter how much it hurts.
You cant be around people who don't believe in you and you cant let people drag you down. A true mother would not do what was done to me and the quicker I let go of this dream that just wont ever be..the sooner I will be FREE.
And that's just the tip of the ice berg
Isabella Grand