My response to a past comment "... my mother. I cannot fathom the shoes she filled and how those shoes seemed nailed to the floor for so many years. Many, many times I have found myself more upset with her than with him."
As a mother myself, I consistently feel more anger towards my mother than anyone else. I see my daughter grow and at her age of nearly six, I see my own timeline unfold in everything she does. It is then that I realize that I was years into my abusive childhood by the time I was her age now. I simply cannot understand how my mother allowed such monstrous things in our home.
My mother was a sad and tormented person. She had a very difficult upbringing from what I gather. My grandmother, my mother's mother, is still living and I maintain next to no relationship with her because she is just so hateful. I am sure that my mother drew my father to her; he preyed on the weak even as a young man. My mother married him to escape the hell of her own home. I married my ex-husband for those very same reasons but her footsteps that I follow stop there; I will not raise a child the way she raised and allowed me to be raised.
My father terrorized my mother. He fine-tuned his gaslighting skills with her and was a master by the time he got to me. I can still hear my mother's voice and it is shrill and loud. She was always screaming and ranting about something. She fell in lockstep with his abusive ways; I know betrayal from the deepest depths because of her. Looking back, I secretly wonder if she was relieved when I was born and my father began his games with me.
I was her way out. She would never leave him. But she could leave me... with him.
“Shall I Crucify Your King?” #UNITE Linky
22 hours ago