Well, I’ll keep it relatively simple as this is not something that I have ever really felt comfortable around, and I have a lot of shame and pain attached to my upbringing.
My mom is only 18 years older than me and my dad maybe 23 years. They were a match made in hell; an insecure and manipulative woman and an overbearing, controlling man. They had two children quickly, me the oldest. My childhood was filled with being told I was going to be taken away by the children’s home, being hit, being shouted at, being silenced, being kicked and having my comforts taken away at a whim.
I remember: being hit every few minutes for polishing a table (to help) with some liquid that probably wasn’t for a table (I didn’t know that, I was tiny). She told me she would come upstairs every XXX minutes to hit me and she did. One time I had annoyed her so she chased me with a LIT lighter, pushing it in my face and I went backwards through a window head first. Another time, she was angry, in the middle of a busy street, that I wouldn’t take another bag of shopping off her and -hands full- kicked me really hard. I have hundreds of these situations in my mind and to hand, but my take on this level of violence is that it’s was partially and always sadistic or elaborate. What kind of mother smacks a bristle brush off a child’s hand leaving over fifty bleeding holes, for them taking a cake when they didn’t ask first? It wasn’t even me that took the cake, it was my little sister, but that’s another story.
Emotionally, what came is relentless gaslighting, reading my personal diaries constantly (even after my teenage years), inserting herself into my friendships and having opinions on my friends. Making me babysit my half brother and being his school tutor for hours on end every day. Using me as a friend and drinking partner and a source of entertainment rather than a daughter. Putting me down so I stayed controllable, clipping every privilege, not allowing me any voice, making me her taxi driver and personal assistant.
As a side note, every single childhood animal I had was either given away or sold while I was in school. No communication, just gone.
We have fought over decades; me as the scapegoat and the evil child of the family. Narcissists do not like resistance… We are now estranged for coming up to 3 years this December. I’m also estranged from my father over twenty years already. It got to the point that I couldn’t take abandoning my truth any more for the sake of a mother that simply wasn’t able to see past a glass of gin and her own nose. She’s labelled me aggressive, independent (that’s a very insulting word in her world) and has criticised me for stepping out of our family system. As if I should be ashamed to challenge what simply wasn’t normal or acceptable.
Challenges I’ve encountered:
Alcoholism
Insecurity
Lack of trust in people
Low self esteem
Shyness
Poor impulse control
Unsound boundaries
Addiction to other dopamine sources: drugs and sex
Loneliness
Self doubt
Depression
Self hatred.
People pleasing
Fear of documenting anything that can be used against me. I still won’t journal.
I’m doing the work for myself now that my mother should have done for herself. I’m finally dropping back into my body and mind and accepting these parts of me that are hurt and angry. It’s a work in progress, but I do not believe that any child from a home of dysfunction or alcoholism should be held accountable to forgive a single damn thing.
Thanks for the space, sorry it got long