So my **** mother wants to spread everyone’s fucking business around, read through everyone’s personal shit, stick her fucking nose up everyone’s ass so she feels like her life is so fucking interesting. Lord knows she always fucking told me how much she treats others the way she wants to be treated, I’m more than happy to oblige and do the same for her.
The woman who gave birth to me molested me for years under the guise of “checking me for ringworm”. I don’t know everything, but I’m pretty fucking sure, you can’t feel ringworm inside the v*g. I’m pretty sure the ***** didn’t need to fucking bathe and shower me up until age 9. I was an especially independent child, and they expected me to do far more than a simple fucking shower. They expected me to raise their fucking kids, and they could fucking bathe alone. But what do I know, I’m just the spawn of two dipshits who were dumb enough to combine their misery with God’s holy matrimony.
Then, when my dad got deployed to go make the world more unsafe for everyone (thank you for your service lmao), my mom started raping me. ***** went as far as to molest me in front of my siblings. She liked to lick my entire face with her nasty fucking white zin franzia vomit breath. I would have to clean her vomit out of the carpet bc she thought it was really cool that she could drink so much shit fucking wine. “I’m just like a cool college kid!!” Sure you are, you fucking 30-something child. She also put me in situations where I was assaulted and/or raped, like any good mother.
She regularly liked to belt me and attempted multiple times to belt my 8- and 6-year old siblings. She would to on to brag about the “brave face” and “courage” and “strength” she adorned during my father’s absence. I salute you, military wife, here’s your purple heart of courage or whatever.
She read through my journal at the time, which was more a collection of notes. Lots of suicide notes, a couple run away notes. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that she only found the run away notes. Don’t worry, she told everyone about that and cried that night about not being able to handle a crazy child (my run away notes spoke of hallucinations and delusions I had).
She still goes through everyone’s stuff. She found the pocket knife I used to self harm with, with a note I’d written and taped around it to attempt to dissuade myself from cutting again. She left the knife, removed the note, and wrote some stupid little “wHaT’s GoInG oN hErE” note. If there’s any question as to whether she knew, she made sure to disambiguate this for us: she regularly mocked me for my self harm.
Once, she told me that I need to become “more assertive” and “be a better leader” in between glugs from her wine mug. Aye-aye, Captain. Thanks for the good example you set for me!
Another time, she marched over to where I was cleaning in the kitchen, and stood in front of the ground beef I had thawing for dinner that night. Her eyes were wide and wild, and she ripped open the plastic and took a big bite out of the side. She growled like the animal she was acting like, then stomped away.
She’s an animal abuser in addition to a child abuser, and I know that while most people won’t think twice after hearing about the abuse of another human or child, god forbid someone lay a hand on a defenseless dog. My mom made sure to do things that would make sure everyone could be on the same page.
She’s also blamed my brother’s self harm on me, even though I had no idea he was self harming. Don’t worry; when she called me while she was in the hospital with him, she made sure to severely misconstrue the situation as him trying to kill himself bc of me. Good news: she’s also emotional incesting him, bc apparently actual incesting me wasn’t enough for her. What a shame; she did it so many times, and I assumed if it wasn’t helping me, it’s gotta be helping her. Oh well, no mother is perfect.
She would regularly either abandon me in places or show up visibly drunk and angry after school. My mom’s so silly quirky goofy. Thank goodness none of those mandated reporters who she yelled at before screaming at/hitting/etc. me in the parking lot did their job. After all, no one should be able to tell my mom how to parent her child.
She really is a lovely woman all around. Once, after years of calling me a dyke and a fag and everything else, she told me that she (a straight cis woman) was going to reclaim the word gay, specifically that she was commandeering it to use it in the bad sense and that those fucking homosexuals should go find a new word. She’s outed my brother to the people around her, and she’s told me how much she supports me being queer, even though she’s married to a man who has, with her help, beat me for the mere suspicion of my queerness. She fixed it, though, bc she sent me a picture on Instagram early this June of something she was doing with a pride heart sticker, so she’s a certified #ally.
I can hear her voice now: “this isn’t fair to me!” I’m sharing nothing but the truth, and I’ve kept her big old rape secret for her from everyone she knows. I’ve never blasted her publicly, only made vague statements against child sexual abuse, and all of this is much better than what she deserves. I’ve deprived myself of any kind of justice so I don’t hurt her feelings too bad, but I’m always going to be the bad guy. Fine by me.
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God, I fucking hate parents who are so fucking blind to pure evil and ill-deeds. I feel the long brooding behind this post so hard the sensation is almost physical.
As a wise friend once told me: You have to believe in yourself most out of all out of anyone you know.
It’s not even an extraordinary kind of evil. I know exactly why she did what she did, why she continues to do what she does. And she’s not the only one. She’s one of many parents who all do this shit and it’s accepted bc god forbid someone make her “feel like a bad mother” lol. Kids gotta be given opportunities to look out for themselves, bc right now, they’re strapped into whatever hellish nightmare their parents destine for them.
At least I can be confident in that I won’t continue the cycle, haha.
Yes, cheers to choosing not to continue that cycle!
The thing I hate most about this type of ‘parenthood’ is that (also relevant to this site) As soon as you’re gone from them or they can’t put down that ‘destined path’ of learning for their kid, they use it as an reason to self-victimize and perpetuate their behavior. Often, they’ll just double down. Cheers to learning from that instead of adopting it. Finding growth instead. Becoming growth, instead of facilitating toxic bullshit lmao
Please, forgive us for your pain; please, forgive us for your suffering, and for all that you’ve suffered. My heart, the heart of a stranger, goes out for you. You are strong, but no child should have endured *that*. I’m sorry for all your pain. Please do not let it, do not allow it, do not permit that woman, to bring you down. But rather please seek help and healing, so that you can slowly heal and feel warmth.
No one needs to be forgiven, and nothing really can be forgiven. She’s left permanent marks on my body and my mind, and those don’t go away. My anger isn’t a sign of being unhealed; I had to work and heal for every bit of this. I used to worship my parents as gods and show them nothing but pure devotion and obedience and unrelenting love. This is progress and healing, even if it doesn’t seem like what progress and healing would be for other people.
the thing about the knife, my mother did something similar. she saw my cuts on day, said whats that, scoffed then walked away. she obviously knew. i also went to her about being suicidal, she did nothing.
one day i got home from school and she had baked good all over the kitchen, each one an individual note that said ” ‘me’ dont touch”
she murdered my chickens when i was 10 then blamed it on me, leaving a 10yo to believe they killed somones they loved and now 13yrs later after about 7yrs of not talking my little brother is going on about how the fucking murders got him chickens, way to fucking rub it in. (not my brother, he doesnt know. im trying to be an adult unlike them and not being a child into childish bullshit).
sadly parents have the capability of sucking and sadly because we’re “just kids” the chances of being listened to are lowered even though we’re the ones that need to be listened to the most. even if we are lying about the abuse and its not really happening, theres most likely still a backstory that should be looked into, or at the very least looked into anyway to make sure things are ok…..but it doesnt always happen….