Apologies for the long and rambling post….
So, Ive been seeing a counselor to deal with some issues. I think everyone has issues and should talk with someone – someone who isnt involved with those issues.
Its no big secret that not only do I have health issues that I have to deal with, but some major emotional issues as well. Ive been ‘non-emotional’ for a better part of my adult life.
Ive said at one point in my life, I never wanted to be married. I actually had it in my mind that this stemmed from having parents who are tremendously unhappy in their marriage.
And despite the issues with my own marriages, some of my thoughts regarding why they didnt work out was that I should not be happy. That I didnt deserve it.
However, during a recent counseling session, I found out that my thought was only partially true.
Witnessing a parent being abused
- Ive seen my father beat the crap out of my mother, all while blaming her for a number of assorted things.
- Ive seen my father throw the dinner she cooked across the room because he changed his mind about what he wanted.
- And, Ive seen my mother make up lame stories about what happened to her when shes been caught with bruises.
- Ive seen my father and grandfather call my mother horrible names. Ive seen them screaming into each others faces.
Being abused by a parent
Ive actually been scarred by my parents by their actions towards me when I was a child. Now, some of you may be thinking, ‘Yea-havent we all?’
While some of you believe that they were abused as children due to discipline ‘abuse’, I was living with a mother who woke me up every morning screaming obscenities at me. We arent talking about a parent who is cursing because their child is being uncooperative getting up for school here, we are talking about a parent who screams that their child is a *bitch* or several other words. Every. Single. Day.
My mother would slap me across the face for disagreeing with her. If my opinion differed, I would get slapped.
At one point, I became completely defiant. Not only was I hostile towards my parents, I would openly defy whatever they said to do.
My parents put me in religious counseling. I dont know what ‘they’ told that counselor but I was told to do what my parents told me or Id go to hell for not listening. Some counseling, huh?
I made some ‘bad’ choices as a result of viewing this abuse, being a victim of this abuse, and feeling unloved.
I had met this guy who showed me the attention I had craved. You know where this one is going tho, right?
Long story short, I found someone that would help me escape this hellish life at my parents home. I found myself pregnant at 16 and being forced to choose between marrying him or getting an abortion. I choose to marry him.
At the time it didnt matter that we had nothing in common besides a physical attraction. It didnt matter that he was possessive of me. None of it mattered. It only mattered that he was willing to marry me and ‘save’ me.
Its not surprising that this relationship was short lived. It didnt even last a full year passed our wedding day.
I basically just went from one abusive place to another.
And when that relationship was over, I was the one blamed. Not only did he, his family and my own family blame me…..I blamed myself for this failure.
The ‘I told you sos’ from my family were bad enough, but I wasnt able to maintain any type of custody for the newborn child I had given birth to only months earlier. I had to give custody up to her father.
From one to another
I ran into someone I knew prior to my short lived marriage. And we began a nearly 10 year relationship. These were a tumultuous decade.
We both ‘gave as good as we got’….
I had a rotten attitude and he couldnt keep his genitalia to himself. A rotten combination. And a vicious horrible circle..
It wasnt until the birth of my third child that everything came to a head.
I became seriously ill after giving birth and the betrayal of my husband was too much. Not only did I almost die, but while I was fighting for my life in ICU, he was out running around with a local slut.
The proverbial last straw had arrived.
That man disappeared off the face of the earth. He abandoned not only me in the process, but my two youngest children as well.
My children and I moved into his mothers apartment. (yes, HIS mother). And she and her husband helped me take care of my children for a number of years.
Why does this all matter?
It has been about 17 years since my second marriage broke up. In those 17 years alot has occurred.
Ive been dealing with the diagnoses of lupus, fibromyagia, COPD along with many other health issues. I have had a long term relationship with a wonderful guy. My kids have grown up, with my youngest now almost 18 and getting ready to graduate high school. My oldest two daughters have given me the best gift, grandchildren.
Which brings me to the vicious cycle of abuse.
I havent been a perfect parent. Ive said things I probably should have never said to or around my children. I am ashamed of that.
Ive spanked my children. With a wooden spoon. Sometimes in anger.
I feel like I was abusive.
My children dont act like I was, but I feel that somewhere within them, they have those memories of their mother acting like a jerk. And I feel that somewhere within them they will feel the way I feel towards my family, towards me.
I wanted to be a different type of parent. Once who would not repeat what I had seen or been thru. I believe that I failed.
I have more to say about this, but this post has already taken me half the day to compose.