I watched a documentary today that was about a celebrity who mentally, sexually, and physically abused young women. As I listened to these women describe their experiences of being gaslighted and of feeling that they couldn’t leave, I understood exactly how they felt. I knew because I had been through it myself.
I don’t know why my family brainwashed me so bad. It took me years to be able to say my dad was an alcoholic. And even today, it is difficult to say it with confidence. He didn’t get drunk all the time. Towards the end of his life, I don’t know how much he drank. I just know that he drank every day when I was young, and he was verbally abusive towards me sometimes when he drank. He was an alcoholic. I can’t deny that, but my mom and brother won’t believe it. No one else in my family knows. It’s my truth alone.
And now, I find myself with the same problem with my mother. I have a truth that is mine alone. She mentally and emotionally abused me for over forty years. She tried to control and manipulate my life. She gaslighted me. She isolated me from other people. I felt like I couldn’t get away. There were so many times that I wanted to get away from her house and her control and I felt trapped. I really felt helpless and like I couldn’t do it. Whenever I see stories about domestic abuse or cult-like abuse, it always triggers me because I can understand exactly what it feels like. And yet, I don’t want to admit that I survived her abuse. I’m afraid that no one will believe me and if I spoke about it, I would just be met with anger and resentment. In my family’s eyes, I am just this little naïve spoiled child, and she was this beautiful, funny, loving woman.
I try to live with the consequences of the abuse every day. I live with anxiety because of the abuse. I literally live with random physical pain in my body because my nervous system is so frayed that it misfires all the time. I have IBS, migraines, and other chronic pain conditions because I lived with abuse for so long.
Now, everyone is trying to give me condolences, telling me how difficult it is to lose my mother and telling me to hang in there. No one knows or understands that I cry because I can finally cry without worrying about her reprimanding me. I can finally be free of her control and manipulations. I keep saying that I am happy she is at peace, but to be honest, I don’t know if she is or not. I pray to God to have mercy for her soul. I pray for God to help me to find peace and forgiveness in my heart. What else is there?
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
