For my most recent update, check out last night's post titled Abstract.
I was a stalker at first. I would send text messages to tell her I loved her, and was thinking of her. This was met with hostility and I was told I was creepy and stalking her. She then blocked me.
Up until that point I had this need for my kids to understand me. I didn't function well. I desperately wanted them to understand I couldn't help it. Or so I thought.
Yes, I was a very traumatized and dysfunctional human being. No that's not my fault but what is my fault is choosing to remain in a abusive relationship of which was damaging to me and to my kids.
I was afraid. I was terrified of being alone and believed I couldn't survive and that I wasn't worth anything. I was so very wrong.
I was forced to truly self reflect. It was very painful to see myself. I had invalidated my kids and minimized them. My childhood was straight out of your worst nightmares. So, I compared myself to my father and thought I wasn't like him. My kids didn't know that real abuse was. I was so very wrong.
I thought being a good parent was being strict, and commanding and demanding respect. I yelled a lot. I didn't hit except for a swat to their fanny. I thought I was a good parent. I didn't know how to cope with the world let alone my kids. My trauma had crippled me. I withdrew from the world including them.
The day I realized that I was an abuser, was agonizing. I wanted them to understand that I didn't know it was abuse. I wanted them to understand me. I had gone thru the journey of self awareness and my kids suffered the ugly, then they suffered my confessions and trauma dumping and my emotions and they were exhausted. They cutt me off. They had reached the end of their rope.
I was left alone with that ugliness. I couldn't confess and plead my case of how I was a good person and I didn't mean to hurt them. I was alone with the truth.
He was leaning back and kicking me in the head while I tried to drive that day. The night before he had choked me unconscious. I had the thought that I had on so many other days just like this one that I wanted to die. Then I would worry that the only way I could escape is if I killed him. My kids had just cut me off and he was trying to leave the state with me.
I had begged for help before and didn't understand why no one would help me. I understand now, because I had to help myself.
I jumped out of the car with only the cloths on my back and sprinted to the Quick Trip gas station. I had heard that it was a safe place and they would help you. I was desperate. Anything had to be better than this.
I went to the counter and my permanently damaged voice box croaked “I need a safe place. I'm in trouble.” The clerk shut down the store and phone the authorities. I was taken to a safe house where I stayed until I was able to move forward on my own.
I have focused on healing and living my life. I understand now, that a good mother puts her child's feelings, and needs before her own no matter what age they are. I don't confess or trauma dump anymore. My children are separate unique individuals from me that deserve to have boundaries and their own views, likes and dislikes.
I know now that it was wrong to need them to understand me because that was about me. I know now that I have to validate myself and be accountable. I take responsibility for my life and quit making excuses. My children are first in my life. I finally grew up and started being a mother instead of a traumatized child in an adult body.
My daughter says she want to see me soon. I saw my grandkids. I miss them but they have their own lives. I don't push and beg and make them feel guilty. I don't vent my problems or feelings. When they need something, if I have the means I give it to them. I don't give to them to hold something over their head. I give to them and expect nothing in return because I love them.
If you see yourself as the victim after everything you have done for your kids, then you are the problem. You are not the victim. A parent doesn't do things for their kids and expect anything. They don't weld their love as a weapon to control how their adult children treat them.
I chose to be a mother……finally. Once I decided that if not being in their life helped them heal then that's what it must be because their happiness is the most important thing. Furthermore my happiness of lack of isn't their responsibility. It is mine.
M.
I can't handle being a real person. I'm just not good at it.-Kiara
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