[paigeturner]

I don’t know Janey, I think some of us have lived harder lives than others. It’s so unfair! For the most part, most of the difficulties I’ve faced in my life have been of my own doing. The ramifications of some of my poor choices have been life-altering. However the difficult times have made me into the woman I am today, for better or for worse!

In an earlier post you mentioned the step father who was so abusive to you also came from a horrific childhood. What struck me is this: you broke the chain of abuse and in breaking the chain your life was forever changed. My father also came from a horrific childhood. He basically grew up on the streets of Detroit after his father who had been VP for Ford lost everything in the bottom of a bottle and his mother died of ovarian cancer before her 30th birthday. My father was beaten down both physically and emotionally. Yet, he hardly ever raised his voice to me and never raised his hand. He was loving and wonderful. He told me before he died that he was terrified of turning into his father. He was afraid to go so far as to spank us because he was afraid he’d turn into a monster. He was afraid to the day he died that he would transform into something ugly. My heart shattered when he told me.

Don’t ever be uncomfortable for being admired here. You’re words are of great value and importance.

Thanks.

[paigeturner]

Just so everyone knows...I do know the difference between you're and your. Crap. I can't believe I fell into one of my own pet peeves. That's what I get for multi-tasking!

[aspenhall]

LOL...It's a peeve here too lol

I have to say I never had it as hard as some here...but you're right everyone has hard times in different ways. I too worry about the cycle of abuse.

We did have CPS called on my mom (by her own family) but they did nothing I'll never know why. They didn't even ask us kids. It broke my heart as a kid to think I was "this close" to being rescued....now I wonder what I was saved from by being left at home....

I just cannot imagine not having somewhere to turn for food. And I am so greatful that we have WIC (at least here in my state). If a stranger asked me for food, I wouldn't turn them down no matter what. I wish I could have run in to you back then....but I was probably only 5 at the time.

You know the saying "beat you until you won't be able sit down for a week..."....yeah....that's possible. The sick part of it all, is that she always stayed right on the border of what could be considered neglect or abuse....if she had gone even an inch further I would have had the determination to move. All my neighbors were family....all saw what was happening and all did nothing. I've had one aunt cry and beg me for forgiveness and says she still lives in fear of judgement day when God will ask what she did to help us.

In those days, it was pretty commonplace to get beat regularly...and she didn't ever know how severe and far reaching the abuse was.

As an adult, I have taken my sister from the neglect (phys abuse stopped after I left) and emotional abuse. My mom hates it, but fears if she tries to get her back, I'll win in a court battle. I wish everyone else could have seen how cowardly my mom truly was....maybe something could have changed.

Here is an obituary that fits my family...Newsvine - Obituaries: Dolores Aguilar

And, with as horrific childhood as we've all had, as grownups we've chosen a different path...so in my mind that's no excuse. You are justified in being angry that he wouldn't change himself at the opportunities he had to change. Bad childhood is no excuse to keep the cycle going. At some point you either choose to care enough to stop it or avoid it....or you decide your needs/issues are more important and you do nothing. A bad upbringing can set an instinct, but it doesn't absolve us of our free will.

[paigeturner]

OMG on the obituary. I have no words except to applaud her family for their courage. Wow. I hope that each of us leaves a better legacy. Wow.

[kakuehl]

Aspenhall, all I can tell you is that some people are stronger than others. My mother worked hard to change but we definitely didn't make it easy for her.

Janey, my very dear friend, I know that sharing this memory was very difficult for you. Your ability to share it has enabled others to share their memories are well. I pray for all of you that the sharing has brought a healing.

[Janeytwo]

Hey All!

Paige

What struck me is this: you broke the chain of abuse and in breaking the chain your life was forever changed.

Thanks for this, Paige and for the kind words. Sometimes I wrestle with this legacy of mine. I ask myself if the homelessness and the street would've come my way even if I'd been from a perfect environment. It's so hard to say, you know? Because anybody can fall in with the "wrong crowd". But the flipside is that maybe it wouldn't all have happened and then I would'nt have been such a mess that I ended up having to choose to relinquish to start with. And then I go to the "then this wouldn't happened but then that wouldn't have happened" crapolio.

Sigh....the chicken, the egg and the barn they're sitting in. LOL!

The chains that bind us........

I can picture your dad out there on the streets here; such mean streets. But he clearly came out of that with so much compassion. Your story of him reminded me of an answer to an op-ed piece on child abuse that I read once where this guy was saying that when victims of abuse are labeled as "future abusers" it only victimizes us again. So true.

He was afraid to go so far as to spank us because he was afraid he’d turn into a monster. He was afraid to the day he died that he would transform into something ugly. My heart shattered when he told me.

And mine aches for him as well. Fear of becoming the very thing we hate most. Abuse; it really does chain us to it. Even....even if we refuse to give in to the legacy of hate and violence behind it, it still dictates the choices we will make. That's a frightening power.

Aspenhall

As an adult, I have taken my sister from the neglect (phys abuse stopped after I left) and emotional abuse.

I tried it you know. I remember being 12 or 13 and getting up in my stepdad's face and telling him that if he didn't change his ways, I'd call Social Services. I'll leave the rest unsaid....too hard to speak of.

I am glad that your sister has you!

On the obituary, Wow!! ((( Aspenhall ))) It must've been a cathartic moment to write such a thing.

I've had one aunt cry and beg me for forgiveness and says she still lives in fear of judgement day when God will ask what she did to help us.

Do your aunts ever speak of theirs or your mother's past? I am wondering if there is information back in there somewhere that can answer some of your questions. I have done a small bit of research into nutso dad (biodad). Also, the infuratingly pea-sized amount of info that I have been able to pry from my mom like an alternator from a V-8 stuck in a 4-banger has lent me some clues. But it did help explain the long, cold stare and even cooler pathos.

Paige talks about her dad and his fear of being like his own father. You know what frightens me? If nutso dad's pathology is an inherited trait, could I be just like him? Ruthless? Indifferent? Coldly violent and calculating?

Sigh....what if I am and I just don't know it.

I'll stop now cuz I'm crying.



Kathy Thanks for the prayers. Lord knows I need 'em!

Love you guys.

You got me where you want me
I ain't nothing but your fool
You treated me mean oh you treated me cruel
Chain, chain, chain, chain of fools .

One of these mornings the chain is gonna break
But up until then, yeah, I'm gonna take all I can take
Chain, chain, chain, chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain, chain of fools

Aretha Franklin

[aspenhall]

I didn't write the obituary, but it speaks volumes about my own family. My mother is alive, but I've decided not to invite her into my life and put in the work of a relationship any longer. She's toxic and after dealing with her, my family is in a bad mood for days. My daughter saw her try to run me over once....it was insane. Talking to her is like trying to reason with a beligerant 2 year old....reason and logic do not apply, only what she wants and what she sees.

Living in fear of spanking my daughter because of my own abuse describes my mentality entirely.

I know all about her background and childhood. I grew up in the same neighborhood as all my aunts, uncles and cousins on my moms side. I lived next door to my grandparents. I know a lot about her childhood. Enough to understand that being the spoiled youngest daughter in a semi rich family didn't prepare her for adulthood and she has entitlement issues. She wasn't abused, but also all her siblings are quite successful and she resents that she isn't. Some in politics, all are self made. She however, is whiney and self obsessed and spoiled. My dad was also the baby and was coddled to the point that he too never matured. He requires someone always telling him what to do next...and how to do it.

My mom terrorized my dad my entire life. She grew up overly concerned with what her image was. She was too fat, she had bad teeth, she was unpopular...WHATEVER....get over it! Only she never did....she held herself back and made life choices out of a feeling of desperation or obligation and when she realized she didn't want this life...she took it out on us. She was expected to have kids so she did. She loves babies...so she kept getting pregnant. I was the oldest, so as soon as there was a new baby, the toddlers were passed off to me to handle. Laughter was forbidden, and she was fanatical about "health food" so we ate weird stuff like "wheat grass" who ever thought THAT would become popular!

My dad allowed his own abuse because he figured she would get it out of her system on him and be able to grow up eventually. Until a few years ago he didn't realize it only made her bolder and she still took her frustrations out on us.

I was also left in the yard with my siblings as she drove off screaming that she was leaving this family and never coming back. (she took the baby with her) After 7 or 8 times of gut wrenching terror, by the time I was 8, I remember praying that she'd keep her word and not return like she had the other times.

I did pack up an leave once when I was about 11. A fight with my sister ruining my stuff had been the last straw. I packed up my most cherished posessions and ran away...down the street to the safest place I could think of..... My newlywed cousin living in a basement apartment..... She called her mom (an aunt) and they listened to me cry, made me feel safe and all better....then they made me go back. I was begging and pleading, but I still had to go back. Something died inside me that day and I remember telling myself that change was hopeless, and that until I was an adult nothing would change, I couldn't count on anyone to help me.

I probably could have overlooked the physical abuse....if there had been any love shown, or nuturing in any way. But a prime example of how absent that was in my life was the day I broke my arm (for the 2nd time in a year). I was wearing my new school clothes (big no no), I was on a trampoline (my mom hated trampolines), it was the same arm (I guess I didn't learn my lesson the first time it broke a year earlier).......So there I am in the front seat of her car. The bone is sticking out of my skin and I'm bleeding. I only remember wondering when she was gonna stop lecturing me and take me to a hospital. It was over an hour that I sat and bled, fully in shock, while she screamed at me about how I deserved it because I was disobedient. I was 12.....the bone was sticking out....her family finally made her shut up and take me to the ER.

My first thought when I broke it was "Oh crap, my mom's gonna kill me". I never once in my life felt like comfort and thought of getting it from her....it simply wasn't gonna happen.

So the other day, when she screamed at me last. I told her I wasn't interested in a relationship anymore. Her response was that I was gonna regret it. Next time I needed her she wouldn't be there for me. And I was gonna need her someday and wish I hadn't cut her off....and I sat there STUNNED that she truly believed I would EVER need her for anything. I had stopped needing her when I was 5 or 6....She really just doesn't get it...so I told her flat out that I couldn't imagine ever needing anything from her, and if I did need something it would be taken care of by the dozens of other people in my life who care about me.

When she fought me having my sister live with me (too lazy to stop us). Her only response was "What will people think?" Her motivation for getting her daughter to come home, was only to avoid judgement by neighbors.

She told my husband last month, that some kids are born to succeed, and for some reason she got stuck with loser kids who won't amount to anything. My husband pointed me out as a success and my mom called it a sham and a deception, and I must be a really good actress or something, and she still hadn't figured out how I was able to pull it off yet, but she was sure my life was all false pretenses. Even the way I keep my house clean, couldn't possibly be from my efforts. I must have a maid or maybe my hubby does all the housework and passes it off as me...because I'm lazy and worthless and dirty and she hasn't figured out how I do it yet, but it isn't possibly me doing it all.

As a background, we own businesses, and I work as a substitute teacher. My kids get good grades, and my house is always de-cluttered even if it isn't perfect. Every compliment anyone ever tells her about me, burns her up inside. Because she thinks I've just got everyone tricked into liking me. We live in the same small town, 2 blocks apart.

Janey......HUGS......if you were cold, and uncaring you wouldn't worry about being that way...and you certainly wouldn't cry over it.

[RavenSong]

I cannot believe how much my mom sounds like your mother. They could be identical twins...

You're stronger than I am -- I have never been able to completely detach from my mother and her craziness. I was able to find a "happy medium" of sorts throughout the years by becoming emotionally distant from her. At times, I questioned whether I even loved my mom at all. She sucks all the air out of the room, and I end up just feeling plain tired.

When she had her stroke last August, I found myself attaching to her again. And I discovered that I truly do love her. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm crazy to keep up the relationship with her...what does it say about me? Am I a masochist? Is this just the classic abused child syndrome? These are the things I wonder about in the middle of the night. It's complicated, to say the least...

[aspenhall]

I detached from the relationship. As a fellow human, I still care as I would about any person. Maybe it's been easy because it's not as if she was ever really there anyway. I live 2 blocks away and she comes to my house at Thanksgiving (because I refuse to eat at hers). And sometimes she'll even visit at Christmas. All the obligatory holidays. She calls on my birthday, but if I don't put in the effort to see her, we don't really ever run in to each other. I suppose if I felt there was a valid reason for her abuse (like her own emotional issues) I could maybe tolerate it better....but it became apparent to me recently that is all just narcissism and she refuses to apologize or question her methods and prefers to blame everybody but herself.

...but I wonder if it's abnormal for me to be able to DETACH...like that's a sign of my own attachment disorder (which I'm sure I have) I don't see me as strong enough, I see me as damaged badly enough go against nature.

I was raising a child needing to do attachment stuff and still wanting like mad to avoid it myself. Any of my DH and my arguments happen because he feels like I don't trust him or rely on him....and it's true. I do approach life as if I were alone in it. Like his company is welcome, but instead of feeling involved he feels like spectator.

We hardly ever argue, but if we do, that's what it's about. He was always too "touchy feely" for me. In the beginning, he always wanted to cuddle by the fire for hours and I was horrified at the idea, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather NOT do. Like I can be close to you as long as I'm distracted by something...but just sitting and connecting with someone for more than a few minutes makes me wanna run screaming in agony.