Survivor

As a young child life at my house was pretty much a horrible place. I was physically and mentally abused by my mother and sexually abused by my father. I was a shy quiet child who tried so hard to stay out of trouble and keep quiet so as not to get in trouble. Spent hours outside trying to avoid dealing with my mom. As far back as I can remember she took any opportunity to tell me how stupid I was and how I would never amount to anything. I was so scared of her and because of this I have always hated confrontations, angry people and being hurt so the best way to not deal with that was to keep to myself and stay quiet. But it didn’t matter cause if she was mad and you were there you got the wrath. My older brother was punished way more than me and know he often put himself in harm’s way. I know he always got the worst of it and that made me so sad. My father sexually abused me and I really did want it to stop but what was I supposed to do? talk to mom really go to the woman who beats me and mentally abused me don’t think so. I honestly did not know what to do so I did the best I could to survive and went to school to try to not get into trouble.  At 15 years old I started high school, got a part time job and worked as often as I could, mostly I think because it kept me away from home. In grade 12 I also took on a second part time job working at a daycare across from my high school early in the morning setting it up for the kids to arrive. I was to graduate in June and had already gotten a full time office job starting right after I finished. Not long after that the sexual assault going on in the house was exposed to authorities. I was taken away from my job by police detectives and interviewed for what seemed like hours.  My father was arrested and charged and he was going to go to trial. I was told I had to move out of my family home and get my own place as he would only be released and able to come home if I was no longer there. She chose him over her own daughter. Imagine how I felt. I had little or no communication with my parents, younger siblings only one I did always hear from was my older brother. I also had my grandparents and half sister and her husband, and an aunt and her family who were there for me. My father in the end did not make us testify and he served some time on the weekends, not sure for how long as I really don’t remember and not sure if I was ever told because at that point my mom pretty much didn’t want anything to do with me. It was two years before I spoke with either of my parents. At that point my younger brother and sister were able to come to my apartment once in a while and stay for the weekend. Myself and my siblings all were affected in different ways I am sure. I had a lot of guilt because of finding out it has also happened to others in the house which I was not aware of at the time I didn’t do anything to stop it but again how could I have? I spent my entire adult years focusing on my work. I just celebrated my 35 anniversary with a company. I was always kind, caring, used my wit to bring smiles to everyone I could and tried to help others often to distract myself from the sadness and low self esteem. I had several long conversations with my father after all of this came out I made peace with him he was also a broken man who had terrible things done to him as a child and my mother was very demanding and abused him mentally as well I forgave him only because I feared if I held all that hate in my heart I would never heal. Right or wrong it was what I had to do to survive. Sadly we died suddenly from a massive heart attack. He was only 54. I was 28 years old and I had made a promise to him that as difficult a relationship as I had with my mother I would make sure to take care of her. Why I did that I don’t know but I tried so hard to please that woman and make sure she had a place to live and money if she needed it. She took advantage of that as often as she could and sadly the mental abuse continued. She really liked to play her kids against each other always and manipulate every situation if she could. Basically I lived with her for a lot of years until finally there was a great big blow out at my house and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to move out of my house for a number of months not speaking with her at all as I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t going to take anymore crap I lived at my friends house. My siblings found her an apartment and moved her out of my house into her own place. The day I came back to my home the house was a dirty disgusting mess. She had not cleaned it and she took everything she wanted to make a nice place for herself. A lot of the furniture and stuff was actually mine but as upset as I was I couldn’t and didn’t want to argue with her anymore. I was hoping that living in separate places and doing my own thing would be great and it was but then she got sick. I honestly can’t remember how many times my older sister and I had to move her from one apartment to another. I think it was two or three. She met a man and they moved in together and then got married. Both of them had a lot of medical issues so had lots of appointments and limited abilities. My siblings and I helped out as much as we could but only two of us lived in the same city as her so a lot fell on us. We cooked meals and froze them. All they had to do was heat them up. By this point I had also met someone after being single for my entire life and got married just before I turned 50. My husband is not everyone’s cup of tea but he treats me well. I know he loves me and he can also drive me nuts lol but I’m pretty sure I do the same to him. He took my mom and step dad to a lot of their medical appointments as I was working and he was on disability. The mental abuse was still happening but I made a promise so I kept going back over and over. My step dad passed away in February and then in June after breaking her hip and having hip replacement surgery she passed away the same year in June. It was horrible what she was going through and when told there was really nothing more they could do for her but keep her comfortable she layed in her bed and just stared at me with such hate in her eyes the pain and hurt I felt that day broke me to the core. Oddly enough my brother and sister had to travel a number and hours to get to the hospital and my older sister had to leave the hospital for a while to be with her family. There my older brother and I were sitting in her hospital room watching her suffer and knowing it was a matter of time before she would pass away.  Her two children she seemed to hate so much our entire lives sat with her and looked at each other and said who would have thought it would be you and I sitting with her right now. After the other family came to the hospital I had to leave. I couldn’t just sit and watch her anymore.  I went home to be with my husband the following morning I was trying to get ready to go back to the hospital I could not do it I tried to force myself and I then had a very big panic attack I couldn’t catch my breath I couldn’t move I could call my husband for help I was also paralyzed by fear.  I finally managed to calm myself enough to go get my husband and after him calmed down I knew I couldn’t do it. I could not go back and sit and watch her die. I just couldn’t do it. I thought I was weak and uncaring but really I just am not built that way and not everyone can do that. Everyone is different and can only do what they can do. Sadly I felt some of my siblings were angry with me and there was the guilt again Robin disappointing her siblings again. It was a few days before she passed away and I did whatever I could to help get her affairs in order but to be honest I was a mess. I would break down crying and had no idea why I thought maybe I would feel relieved that she was not in pain anymore and I had kept my promise to look out for her until the end or almost the end. My husband encouraged me to go talk to someone so I finally did and after telling her my story I asked her why am I having such a hard time with her death. She explained to me the reason was because I had a lot of unsaid things that I was always too scared to tell my mom, I never did stand up to her and tell her I was not dumb fat and never amount to anything. I was a kind caring loving woman who works hard every single day and have taken care of myself since I was a teenager. I was always there for my family. If they needed me I did everything I could to help them. So she suggested that I write my mom a letter telling her everything I didn’t get to tell her while she was alive. So that day I went home and sat in front of my laptop and started typing. It was a few hours later my husband asked me if I was still writing my letter and I guessed I did have a lot of pent up feelings and things I needed to say to her.  I still have that letter saved on my laptop but I have never gone back to read it. After that day the crying stopped. I had gotten out what I needed too. I was able to move on. As I have gotten older I have found things more and more difficult for me. I was spending so much time trying to help others I really didn’t help myself enough. Sadly my siblings all have been affected by our childhood and it has affected our relationships with each other. just about a year ago I had a heart attack and got to tell you I was so scared. but a part of me kept thinking maybe this is my punishment for not stopping all of this from happening, maybe I deserve to die, maybe I really am not worth it. I have not really been the same since that heart attack. I am trying to find myself again. It is really hard work and everyday is a struggle but I get up every morning to go to work and spend time with my husband and my two four legged babies in our home. The world out there is so different and so confusing right now. I keep mostly to myself for fear of saying or doing anything that someone will criticize me for doing as I have been a little more outspoken and crabby and I still don’t like fighting and confrontations but I also won’t allow myself to be stepped all over anymore either. This is my story all I can say is I am a work in progress but I am a survivor and a fighter and always will be.