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on Emotionally Abusive Mothers
Justin's
Mother
Hi
Steve,
I'm 19. I live with my mum.
>Tell me what your parents say that help you
feel
attacked, defensive, afraid, threatened,
criticized or
invalidated.
My mom says to me:
"There is something wrong with you/seriously
wrong
with you"
"I don't care what happens to you or what
you do; just
get away from me/leave me alone/don't ever speak
to me
again"
"Because you ARE an ogre" (I said I
felt like I was an
ogre, like I was being treated like an ogre when
my
mum first started ignoring my existence, and I
asked
why she treated me like that)
"You shouldn't feel that way"
"you are never allowed to be angry"
"there is never a good reason to be
angry"
"you can always make up a reason to be upset
with me
can't you", then moments later, "sorry,
you can always
FIND a reason"
"what's wrong with you doing all the
housework?"
"why are you always causing problems?"
"you're too upset"
"your feelings are too much"
"you can't possibly be that hurt by
____________"
"if you feel hurt, it's your fault; it's
your choice."
"you make me suicidal"
But her favorite thing to say is nothing. She
likes to
speak by walking away. By looking at anything but
me.
By rolling her eyes and turning away. There are
more
quotes, but they require too much context.
In February I lost 25 pounds and spent a month
hiding
from her in our bathroom, using drugs that she
bought
for me because it keeps me sedate enough to
tolerate
the terror and pain I feel when I live at home
instead
of in the park. She didn't say anything until she
knocked on the door to tell me she was mad at me
for
not hanging out with her more and to tell me that
I
was making her suicidal. I slashed up my arms and
went
to spend a week at a youth shelter.
I wish my mom was nice to me. I wish she loved me
just
because she loved me, and not just when I make
her
happy or stay out of her way.
I once wrote "why don't you care?!" all
over the walls
because I was so, so, so desperate to be heard.
It
didn't work. My mom didn't say anything.
Cheers,
--Justin
|
hi
steve,
thanks for getting back to me--no worries about
taking
a while, i didn't notice cuz we don't have the
internet at home anymore (i go to the library or
the
corner store by my house) and i get into this
headspace where i just stay in my room all day
and
don't talk to anybody because I'm scared and i
don't
want to hurt any worse than i already do. plus
all the
communication i seem to be capable of in that
headspace is screaming. no words, just screaming
the
way little kids shriek when they are really,
really
upset, and that doesn't tell anybody anything. i
am
fucked up.
thanks for your support. it's weird to have
somebody
say my mom is really psychologically abusive. i
don't
tell very many people. to be honest, it's hard
for me
to accept because my instant response is
"aha, but
it's complicated; i am a jerk so maybe it's not
abuse?" it's weird, i go back and forth
between
thinking i'm terrible and being outraged that i'm
treated so badly.
from sixteen and half to eighteen and a half, i
didn't
live at home. i lived with friends, a neighbour,
and
in youth shelters and, for a few nights, in the
park,
on the street, and on my friend's back porch. now
i
have resigned myself to staying at home for
while.
Maybe I will get traumatized and won't get any of
the
nurturing I want, but when I went looking for it
elsewhere, I didn't find it and got traumatized
in new
ways, so I don't want to try anymore--at least
right
now.
there have been three good periods with my
mom--times
when i have felt respected and listened to, and
the
"Justin is monstrous and defective"
stuff stopped.
after my nineteenth birthday, it went on for
three
whole weeks and in fact, we actually had a
conversation about her abusing me my whole life
and
she apologized (i thanked her over and over and
over
and shared with her the fact that this was pretty
much
the best day of my life with her because finally
i
felt heard). i don't know what made these periods
of
good times end.
things have been really bad. my mom basically
stopped
talking to me for the week, and then yesterday we
got
into a fight...although it wasn't really a fight
because she didn't really want to talk to me and
would
just say something about me and then stop
acknowledging my presence....and i lost it and
started
having this meltdown and wound up beating myself
up
and screaming, "please just listen, just
talk to me,
why won't you talk to me? why don't you love me?
why?
please stop ignoring me why don't you love
me?" and so
on. my mum put on her coat and went out. between
my mum going out and coming back, our neighbours
called the police. i had gone to my room to cut
myself,
listen to music and find somebody to call.
unfortunately, i didn't put my shirt back on
immediately after I scratched th word
"bad" into my
chest...because it makes me feel better, it's
like own
secret record of pain...and i was shirtless,
crying,
and talking to somebody at the youth crisi line
when
the cops came upstairs, saw me bleeding and told
me I
was going to the hospital. they said i could
either go
voluntarily in an ambulance or they could arrest
me
and drag me there if necessary. i chose the
ambulance.
nobody at the hospital even cared (which i was
happy
about because whenever people take notice of me
they
take notice without asking me what I think or
what's
going on for me and something traumatizing
happens "in
my best interests" and against my will) and
they kept
going on about nagging parents in the "oh,
c'mon,
everybody hates their parents, you're no worse
off"
vein. it was the worst day of my life. i feel all
raw
but kind of like i feel nothing.
i think it is mostly my fault, because instead of
just
letting things be, I freak out. my mum's not nice
to
me, but i'm not very nice to her anymore either.
it's
not like my mum says, "get out of my house
and never
come back" and I then leave, or queitly say
I feel
hurt. well, i did for a while, but things just
seemed
to get worse. instead, what happens is I'll get
this
blind panic and the best thing I can come up with
is
to yell "I hate you!!" and slam doors.
later in my
room i'll think about what i was trying to say
but i
don't say it, because my mum doesn't want to hear
it.
she tells me so.
i can kind of understand but I also at the
same time
i kind of can't, because if my mum wanted tell me
why
she says that she doesn't want me and that i'm
and
ogre I would be all ears, i would be so damn
willing
to listen to how she felt. i figure it's hard to
love
a kid who says he hates you, and as long as I
react by
saying hurtful things back, I figure it's gotta
be at
least partially my fault.
i would like to be there for other teens, to
listen
and let them know they're not alone.
thanks again.
-Justin
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