I was abused pretty early on by my father. Mentally and physically. He tried to kill me with a gun. It misfired twice. I used to think I was fortunate that happened, now I wish when he shot, he killed me. I would have saved me a lot of suffering.
Went to school teased there as well. Stood up to them didn’t matter. Beat them up. Didn’t matter. Told school officials didn’t matter.
Then my mother abused me mentally. She checked out on life for a number of years by taking percocet and valium. Which left me at 8 to pay the bills. The money was there but I had to do the budget while she watched soaps and drifted off into lala land. This went on for 4 years until her stomach couldn’t take it and insurance wouldn’t pay for it. During this time I kept telling people she was whacked out on drugs but, everyone just said pish posh that isnt true.
I thought I was going crazy. I’d tell people what was going on, and they would just call me a liar. Finally when I was in fifth grade, For the first time I had a friend come over.
Then the friend saw what was going on. For the first time I knew I wasn’t crazy.
Other friends came over through the years and saw what she was doing. The fugue states, the rants, the constant memory loss.
I finally found a great woman. Moved away. However she slowly degenerated over they years. Possibly from being bi polar. I didn’t know that at first. I stayed though abuse, cheating and kept a job that almost caused me to die at her insistence, because we needed the money. I cooked cleaned did everything. I couldn’t rely on her for anything. I finally confronted her about the cheating. Even then I didn’t kick her out.
Now suddenly I made her cheat. How? That is what abusers say. If I said she made me hit her would that have been ok? No clearly not.
Now am losing my job and no new one is sight.
Everyone says hang on life will get better, but i clearly does not. Its just keeps getting worse. I’m not have no mental disease. I’ve been tested several times through out my life. My depression is situational.
Things won’t get better. I’m just tired.
2 comments
Being a caretaker who doesn’t have support is unsustainable for sure. Exhausting.
Is there community support you can find in addition to what is on this site?
I hear you about having a witness…as you yourself wrote it helped tremendously. Seems to me that people who say not to care what others think are forgetting who it was that cared enough for them that they still feel it inside, carry it with them, are still nurtured by it and are not quite so starving for connection. When I feel cared for I am much more independent…ironic feat of balance.
Can you take a break? As someone who watched his mom go to lala land a lot you may very well be erring in the opposite direction of trying to do too much.
Also there is a big difference between loving someone vs being the good rescuer who plays a role but doesn’t really know the other person or support them in growing and healing but rather just magnanimously tolerates their presence.
Support is limited and shoddy. Sitting around in a drum circle / group therapy doesn’t really help me much.
I gave up on my mother a long time ago. She Had seizures and problems when I left. A friend stopped by a few years ago and she’s still just as bad. Claimed we had a kid, we were hiding from her, She sees my dead grand mother, Ghosts haunt her house, etc.