Abusive Mother - Blog Posts
I cry for the butcher
Gold silver and copper
cake my tongue
No harm can ever come from
my mother's praying hands
My filthy mouth -
I harmed myself
Orange wedge lip
Clenched ivory threat
Pulled the trigger with my tongue
Blood orange
Her saintly hands
I’m sorry - a million times over
I say to her
And when i finally cry
It is not for the lamb.
Um so...
I tried avoiding conflict with my mom... but that turned into avoiding my mom...
On tuesday after a very intense phone call with her and an equally intense therapy session, I decided to go no contact.
I then hung out with friends, got embarrassingly drunk, woke up with a hangover that was less debilitating than I had hoped and blocked her on all my socials.
I didn't think ti was going to hurt *me* this much. I should be happy. But I feel guilty. I feel like I gave up too soon, like if I had hung on a little longer, then everything would have been ok.
But I know that's not true. I know that she uses the fact that I still have hope to rope me back in every time. And every time I fall for it.
I know I don't miss her. I know I miss the "in between" times. I miss the way she would behave when she was making up for having hurt me; when she was trying to "earn" the forgiveness I gave her for free. I miss how she would make me feel so safe and so loved, like I was the only one with who she could really be herself, like there was no one in the world who saw me like she did.
I know that all those wo derfull feelings come at the cost of hollowing out everything that makes me "me" to make room for what she wants me to be.
I know all that.
And It still feels like I fucked up. Like I should apologize and beg for her forgiveness and pray to a god I no longer believe in that she will welcome me back into a "home" that has only ever felt as calm and as safe as the eye of a hurricane.
Unfortunately this is a rant because I don't have anyone to turn to when this happens.
My mother is not a crazy woman or often abusive, she's controlling but nothing much futher beyond that, but some times she has crises and it's always with me.
I always keep my bedroom door closed for my own safety, because I don't feel safe enough in my own home to keep it open. This wouldn't be a problem if my mother didn't blow up at me. She often yells and bangs on the door really hard when she's mad at me, and that's a huge problem.
Today she needed my documents to register for something, I listened to her the first few times, but I tried to ignore her so she would go away. She didn't leave. She banged harder on the door and screamed louder, and yelled threats at me. Saying he was going to break down the door and hit me.
I tried to ignore it again, but the screaming and banging were so loud that I cowered in my bed and covered my ears with my hands. I literally shook and cried with fear. I was so scared that I couldn't get out of bed to get the damn documents.
I contacted my friend so that I would have someone with me and know what happened to me if the worst case scenario happened. I really panicked, to the point of wanting to talk to God or the gods, but then I remembered that I didn't worship the gods and that I had angry towards Christian god. Nothing really big, but it's a moral of mine that I shouldn't benefit or contact god or gods only when it suits me. So I felt trapped in my own hole.
At some point I managed to gather enough strength to go to the drawer and get the documents to slip them under the door. It was torture. I was breathing heavily and panting with tears streaming down my face and my body was very weak. I had to crawl all the way to the end to pass the documents. My room is not big, less than ten square meters probably. That's how much fear affected me. Fear of my own mother.
I've stopped shaking and crying, I'm no longer in a state of panic, but my mind is still stuck in a state of alert. Every time I hear footsteps coming from the stairs I freeze, thinking it might be my mother and that I'll be greeted with more screams and threats. My heart is still tight and every movement I hear it leaves me on full alert, especially her voice.
Her voice makes me panic and want to cry again. It doesn't matter if it's directed at me or not.
Do you have any idea what it's like for a person to fear their own mother's voice? The person who should love and protect them, leaves them trembling and cowering, afraid of just her signal. As if the just air she breathed were thorns in your lungs... This is worrying. And what's more worrying is knowing that you don't have anyone in your family or outside to trust to be with you at these times. Because that role should belong to your mother. But she failed to fulfill the minimum of that role.
I wish this was just another whump in disguise, but no, this is a real occurrence of mine.
12/26/2024
