[czarina1984]

This was recently brought up to me as being a possibility and I wanted to throw this out there to you for opinions.

My father was physically and verbally abusive to me until he died when I was 21. However I have the best relationship with him and miss him the most of my mother, sister, and I. Neither of them were ever physically abused so I think I have more reason to be angry and resentful but I miss him.

Am I crazy or is this common?

[marmaduke]

Well it depends, how did your mother and sister treat you.

Did they ignore you. One of the worse things you can do is ignore someone totally. Maybe even tho he was abusive he gave you attention?

[czarina1984]

I was the parent for my sister and my mother had to work and care for the house. We were never her priority. What you are saying makes sense.

[brownhare]

The way I had this explained to me was as a slot machine addiction.
If every time you put a coin in a slot machine nothing came out you'd disconnect the emotional investment in trying fairly quickly.
But when you get the odd scrap of change back now and then you become super invested in getting another payout so end up throwing more and more money in and maintaining focus on the small win that might happen again and not the big loss going on.
I have/had am dealing with a similar thing with my Dad. My Mother was the machine that never paid out, ever. I feel a lot of rage towards her for that but very little or no love.
Dad on the other hand had the none drunk days where he offered a small kindness or brought me a bottle of soda home. There was a lot more drunken attacking and physical assault than sober kindness from him growing up but I NEVER STOPPED TRYING for the jackpot as a child and I was totally focussed on getting that payout via my own investments in 'being a good girl'
Stockholm I am told has a lot of similarities to the slot machine metaphor as it is a learned coping mechanism aimed at doing what we thought was needed to generate what we needed to survive as children or adults in a violent and dangerous situation.
I am told this is a very normal and self protective mechanism that many people who are traumatized for a long time find themselves doing without any real understanding why.
By this I mean logically we can see we are being treated appalingly but some rogue part of us won''t let go of the idea that IF I JUST TRIED AGAIN things might be different. It is the second part of the thinking that keeps us locked into putting those coins in.
It was suggested to me that the only way out for me was to reframe my 'person' as a slot machine and SEE what I was doing as gambling with my own feelings as the currency that I was feeding into Dad. Since I realised that I have found it a lot easier to manage my urges to play the game of 'look how much I deserve to win your love/respect'

[marmaduke]

Good explanation thank you.
This is how is was for me. I got nothing from mother and by the age of 7 realised she hated me.
And I hated her back. When she died I felt nothing but relief.
Father gave a little more (not much) but enough for me to think l 'loved him'

People seem to find it strange that I HATE mother.
Mother gave me nothing. Nothing. All she did was destroy that little timid girl.

Never a cuddle never a kiss or hug. That machine did not pay out.
No Stockholm syndrome for me.

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I understand this. My father was more physically abusive. My mother emotionally. I have a much better relationship with my Father than my Mother.

Mind you I am 50.

[Focus62]

That is a great metaphor, thank you for sharing it brownhare.

[brownhare]

Originally Posted by marmaduke

Good explanation thank you.
This is how is was for me. I got nothing from mother and by the age of 7 realised she hated me.
And I hated her back. When she died I felt nothing but relief.
Father gave a little more (not much) but enough for me to think l 'loved him'

People seem to find it strange that I HATE mother.
Mother gave me nothing. Nothing. All she did was destroy that little timid girl.

Never a cuddle never a kiss or hug. That machine did not pay out.
No Stockholm syndrome for me.

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Hi Marmaduke, I was in the same situation as you & I feel you. I just got home from a therapy session discussing the fact that whilst I can cook a meal for others joyfully and without anxiety or fear, when I try to make a snack for myself at home alone I am wracked with anxiety and find myself cleaning up to hide the evidence of nourishing myself. This is due to my Mother ( a compulsive narcissist and dieter) who offered no hugs or kisses and beatings and screaming if I stepped near to the fridge or asked for food outside of strict meal times.
I gave up on her aged about 7 as well.
I still carry the built in bodily reactions of fear when I go to do something that is ordinary and self nourishing. She made me afraid to eat, sing, hum, make a mess, get dirty, play, laugh, ask, question, boy the list goes on....
But I am making progress.
At the ripe old age of 43 I told my therapist in a safe space that I was scared by feeding myself and the rage that followed that disclosure just about floored me and my therapist told me it was OK to feel the rage & I believed him. I walked out of their today feeling HEARD and he made it OK for me to be angry ( I was always ashamed of this anger & stuffed it away). As of today I am hoping to be able to nourish myself alone in my own home without the fear and anguish that has plagued me & to do it one totally awesome snack at a time

Thank you for sharing & strength to your healing BH x

[marmaduke]

My mother was the same!! Just the same!!
Mother was controlling, an obsessive dieter and always underweight.
I was not allowed to open the larder and take food. There were strict meal times.
I and my sister often felt hungry.
Mother controlled everything. I was not allowed to speak, she told me 'Your voice grates on my nerves, l do not want to hear your silly twaddle' No music, singing, no visitors.

I was barely allow to move, not allowed to touch HER furniture HER food. A bath once a week when she would check I only had 3 inches of water. I was only allowed to wash my hair once a fortnight.
If I touched anything in her house I would make sure she wouldn't notice. Like, if l got a pen out of a drawer to use it, I would put that pen back in EXACTLY the same place and position.
I still put other people's things in exactly the same position as I found them, still fearful they will rage at me.

Oh wow. (((((((((Hugs to you))))))))

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[brownhare]

Originally Posted by marmaduke

My mother was the same!! Just the same!!
Mother was controlling, an obsessive dieter and always underweight.
I was not allowed to open the larder and take food. There were strict meal times.
I and my sister often felt hungry.
Mother controlled everything. I was not allowed to speak, she told me 'Your voice grates on my nerves, l do not want to hear your silly twaddle' No music, singing, no visitors.

I was barely allow to move, not allowed to touch HER furniture HER food. A bath once a week when she would check I only had 3 inches of water. I was only allowed to wash my hair once a fortnight.
If I touched anything in her house I would make sure she wouldn't notice. Like, if l got a pen out of a drawer to use it, I would put that pen back in EXACTLY the same place and position.
I still put other people's things in exactly the same position as I found them, still fearful they will rage at me.

Oh wow. (((((((((Hugs to you))))))))

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Blimey this is mind blowing ( other people had this?) as well as being incredibly great (as well as bad, I am truly sorry that you had this too) but to know I wasn't alone in this experience....finally someone else KNOWS this.
I also put everything back where it was, wherever I am, wherever I touch I feel myself looking over my shoulder waiting for the axe to fall.
She had a way of monitoring every single move I made or thing I did that made me terminally anxious of putting a foot wrong or touching something that I shouldn't.

Our Christmas decorations were 'perfect' done at night by Mom minus me and she recycled chocolate decorations and cards from previous years. We were not allowed to touch, sniff or go near the chocolate tree decorations that she hung up year in and year out, the SAME ones.

Same for the crib, the snow scene with the cute little figures. It was all done for show to others, as a child I was berated if my fingers strayed in the direction of the tree or any of her ornaments. I am still scared to touch things that are pretty.

My mother spent money on clothes and things for herself and nothing on me, less than nothing, she would take money ostensibly for me from my Fathers wage for birthdays or Christmas and spend 10% on me, always drab clothes. The rest she spent on herself. Dad never seemed to notice.

My mother kept my hair short like a boy, monitored my toilet habits, dressed me in hand me down clothing and no visitors or friends were ever allowed into our home. She was always very clear to me that she was beautiful, desirable, that dad loved her most and that I was a nuisance who she had to tolerate.

She didn't allow me to wear bright colours or jewellery or anything fashionable or pop like. I was not allowed to listen to pop music or have posters on my walls or go to friends sleep overs. She nailed my social life from day one as a child.

But she expected me to beat every other kid ( and their Mothers) in class at EVERYTHING. (mad)

I was also allowed a bath once a week. But no bubble bath, no hair doing afterwards, it was a puritanical scrub and straight to bed afterwards with a sour face if I was too slow or had too much fun.

She even used to throw away treats and sweets that my Granny (Dad's Mom) gave to me. Gifts that were sweeties got thrown in the bin in front of me and I was sworn to secrecy.

She gave up bread and potatoes, I gave up bread and potatoes she even went so far as to write a letter to the school banning me from having desert in my school lunch. I was put on a table with the kids with special dietary requirements. She couldn't handle the thought of me aged 4-10 eating pudding at school with the other kids. What the hell was she thinking? Was she even thinking? How insane is that?

She ended up alcoholic, in deep denial and abandoned by both my brother and I when I was 18. She didn't want anything to do with custody of my brother he was 8 and instead of visitation or custody she asked for a sum of money from my Dad in order not to sue for custody. He paid up. We got on without her & watched Dad descend into further madness and alcoholism.

Sad times.

Nice Mothers we had lady, it amazes me that we are here, didn't we do well to get this far ? xx BH

[brownhare]

Originally Posted by marmaduke

My mother was the same!! Just the same!!
Mother was controlling, an obsessive dieter and always underweight.
I was not allowed to open the larder and take food. There were strict meal times.
I and my sister often felt hungry.
Mother controlled everything. I was not allowed to speak, she told me 'Your voice grates on my nerves, l do not want to hear your silly twaddle' No music, singing, no visitors.

I was barely allow to move, not allowed to touch HER furniture HER food. A bath once a week when she would check I only had 3 inches of water. I was only allowed to wash my hair once a fortnight.
If I touched anything in her house I would make sure she wouldn't notice. Like, if l got a pen out of a drawer to use it, I would put that pen back in EXACTLY the same place and position.
I still put other people's things in exactly the same position as I found them, still fearful they will rage at me.

Oh wow. (((((((((Hugs to you))))))))

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I missed out the faked suicide bids where she would leave empty pill bottles in the sink and hide from me and my brother to make us think she had killed herself.
The physical attacks when I touched her jewellery box and she clawed my face.
The constant murmuring in our Fathers ear that we needed disciplining and the belt beatings that came from that.
The broken arm when she hit me with the wooden washing tongs that she felt she should not have to be using and I laughed at her aged 12.
She put me on the bus to the hospital and told me to tell A&E that I had fallen off my sledge. (They let it slide and plastered me and let me go back home on the bus)
The naked parading of her sexuality and Dads desire for her from the ages of 7-15
The intrusions into my body and toileting from age 3. She would sit me on the toilet before bed after a severe genital scrubbing with strong soap that made it burn to pee and then shriek at me if I didn't go on demand before bed.
She put me on the doorstep to sleep because I cried when she took my bears away (aged 4 earliest memory) Dad brought me in when he got home from nightshift at 11.00pm
She would force feed me liver or eggs until I puked and then threaten to make me eat my puke aged 5. Still forced into a high chair aged five.

She was a human female monster. I don't know how she got away with it, people believed her when she said I was the bane of her life and unmanageable and driving her to drink. She lived as a beautiful and eternal victim of motherhood.

She needed no driving, she was a bona fide narcissistic sociopath.

I'm still getting to grips with all these memories after all these years after after a son of my own who I have actively loved and cherished and empowered with all my heart every single day.

It's only as I have grown as a Mother that I have felt the truth of her crimes against me. It has been through the loving of my boy that I have felt the real truth of her dereliction of duty and abusive behaviour.

The rage has followed this.

Ooh that rage is FIERCE XXX

[marmaduke]

Yup. We had the same mother. 😨

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[marmaduke]

Mother micro controlled everything in a way I cannot describe to any one.
Except you.
I sat still, silently, trying to be invisible.
I fell down the stairs top to bottom, heavily, bruised, l shook. She smiled.
I was about 8. I knew. I was on my own.
She crushed any joy, couldn't bear me to smile.
Never told me or guided me about girl stuff. When a period came I thought I was bleeding to death.
The stupid ***** had told me nothing.
She made me terrified of the world.
She monitored toilet habits and the amount of toilet roll I used. Said I used too much. That made her angry.
Mother told me she hated me. Hated being in the same room as me. Said I made her feel sick. Told me I stank. I would scrub myself in the bath to get rid of the 'smell'.

Mother abandoned her first born in whom she had no interest.

She destroyed the person I should have been and for that I hate her.

Hard to understand isn't it, when you get your own child and feel that deep unconditional love. You realise how helpless, powerless a small child is.
And wonder, what type of evil creature treats her own child so badly?

OH YES THAT RAGE IS FIERCE


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[brownhare]

Originally Posted by marmaduke

Mother micro controlled everything in a way I cannot describe to any one.
Except you.
I sat still, silently, trying to be invisible.
I fell down the stairs top to bottom, heavily, bruised, l shook. She smiled.
I was about 8. I knew. I was on my own.
She crushed any joy, couldn't bear me to smile.
Never told me or guided me about girl stuff. When a period came I thought I was bleeding to death.
The stupid ***** had told me nothing.
She made me terrified of the world.
She monitored toilet habits and the amount of toilet roll I used. Said I used too much. That made her angry.
Mother told me she hated me. Hated being in the same room as me. Said I made her feel sick. Told me I stank. I would scrub myself in the bath to get rid of the 'smell'.

Mother abandoned her first born in whom she had no interest.

She destroyed the person I should have been and for that I hate her.

Hard to understand isn't it, when you get your own child and feel that deep unconditional love. You realise how helpless, powerless a small child is.
And wonder, what type of evil creature treats her own child so badly?

OH YES THAT RAGE IS FIERCE


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Hard to understand isn't it, when you get your own child and feel that deep unconditional love. You realise how helpless, powerless a small child is.
And wonder, what type of evil creature treats her own child so badly?


Not to me lovely.. I feel your hurt and your rage and the pain and the memory of the powerlessness with every fibre of my being.

I'm your witness today,you have walked in the same shoes as me for more than a life sentence and at an age when that was way beyond devastating.

I feel you. I feel this just as you say it. As a Mother who would walk through FIRE for her child and as a internally shattered survivor of a monster who masqueraded as and was believed to be a Mother by significant others.

I'm here for US ! xx BH

[marmaduke]

Thank you for your replies brownhare. To know someone understands helps so much x

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[brownhare]

Originally Posted by marmaduke

Thank you for your replies brownhare. To know someone understands helps so much x

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Likewise lovely lady, it is extraordinary to me to hear the same story finally after all this time. I thought I was alone. It is very, very sad but also good to know I am not alone.

I hope we can use what we have here together to uplift others who are still full of shame and feeling utterly alone in this experience.

I'd also like to say.....I'm so GLAD you're a Mom and doing an awesome job and that this is helping you to process and heal....Great stuff, to me it takes a really strong and beautiful woman to go through what we have been through and shield our kids from it. (Whilst still fighting it)

Nice work sister !!! xx

[Open Eyes]

Oh, hearing how your mothers treated you breaks my heart, I am so sorry none of you should have been treated the way you were treated.