I tried once again to talk to mom about my past. It's hard for me to forgive her since she insisted that I was a liar since I was little. I knew from a young age that she would never believe me and so I told her things when they got too big for me to handle but then she would refuse to believe me. (such as the first time my brother showed me his tool and I told mom who called me a liar) I haven't lied since mom re-married. My step-dad is the biggest blessing in my life .

Once again mom shut me down and I find myself holing up again. I had mentioned that I don't remember any of the bad stuff but I do at the same time. What I remember seems like a dream and I don't know if it really happened or if I just imagined it. Mom then said "well, tell me what you remember and I might know what happened." Which tells me then maybe something did happen that she knows about but keeps from me. I told her that I can't explain my memories because they're so fragmented they're just brief images like from torn photographs.

She then jumped right to my brother who's nine years older than me. As an adult I was molested by him and couldn't stop him because of my own fears making me freeze and go mute. That I remember since it was only two-ish years ago. She insisted that he had never hurt me when we were growing up. That all of his anger was directed to our brother between us and mom. But he absolutely loved me and was all about protecting his baby sister. I don't know what to believe. I don't remember. I was 3 when he was removed from the home. My last memory of him before he was taken away was him trying to kill mom and mom yelling at me to dial 9-1-1. The brother between us ended up dialing it because I had gotten 9's and 6's mixed up. (This was actually the event that triggered a life-long phobia of phones for me)

I remember seeing him in a detention center for troubled teens. I remember the snack machine. It had sandwiches in it. I remember the smell of the carpets. I remember family counseling but in both buildings I only remember the waiting rooms. One was upstairs and I hid out under the chairs mostly and napped. I was terrified of earthquakes since a big one hit when we were in that building. My brother between us had to throw me in the corner behind the door since mom and our older brother were in the office with the counselor and I didn't know what to do. He ducked down under a table. I remember in the other building they had a toy box and I would dig out all the toys to get a bart simpson doll out. I liked him because he had a skateboard and mom wouldn't let us watch that show so I felt like I was rebelling lol.

I don't remember the brother that was taken away ever hurting me until we were adults so why would mom assume that was the abuse that I remember bits of? Whoever the abuser(s) was/were I don't remember a face and in my memories they always appear as darkness like a shadow.

I feel stuck, trapped. I know I can't live in the past, but I can't live in the present either. I'm immobilized by fears and hurt and I want to cry but I can't. I want to scream but I can't. I want to be held and hugged and told that everything's okay. I want my mommy. The one who rocked me back to sleep when I woke up in antagonizing pain or screaming from another nightmare. I want the mother who no matter how much I fought her hugs would hold me until I could only give up in my struggles and hug her back feeling her warmth and love. I'm 24 now though. The most I get from her now is when I have a really really really really bad dream and can get my step-dad out of the bed and for me to sleep with mom till I feel okay again or she kicks me out lol. I feel cheated and jipped. Like I lost out only because of the passage of time leaving me behind. I don't feel 24 at most I feel 16. I'm so young and lost. I can't grow. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I have nobody to turn to.