From: anon-1218@twwells.com (Anika)
Newsgroups: alt.sexual.abuse.recovery
Subject: Re: hi you all
Date: 9 Nov 92 22:19:07 GMT
Organization: Anonymous Posting Service at twwells.com
X-Email-Accepted: yes


Hi to everyone who's been following this discussion. There are so many points
here that hit home that I don't know where to start.

Sierra and Free Amazon, I too, have been remembering fairly recently about my
mother's part of the abuse. Part of the reason I denied it for so long is
because I've had such an overwhelming desire to protect her and believe that
she was the mother I wanted her to be. I don't understand the desire because
I've never repressed the emotional abuse and manipulation. It seems that as
soon as I didn't have to deal with her everyday, I forgot what she was and
made her into what I wanted her to be.

My mother also alternately helped and hindered my recovery. I think at first
she wanted to help, but then knew that she was damning herself. Then she shut
down and told me she didn't want to discuss it with me anymore, the subject
was closed. Sounds like denial to me, yet according to her, she knew my step
had done something. So why the sudden denial?

She may have been so drunk that she couldn't possibly have a clear perception
of events even if she wanted to. But the fact remains that she *doesn't* want
to. Excuses aside. Her personal problems, her drinking, no longer matter to
me. It's not her problem any more. She turned it into mine. I'm dealing with
it because she didn't. I don't think I'm being unduly harsh. I think part of
healing is also accepting your own mistakes which came from the behaviors you
were taught. From myself, I would demand acknowledgement of my errors and
reparation as best as I am able. Why should I expect or accept less from my
mother?

Like Free Amazon, I don't know if I could believe what she told me unless it
corroborates my own memories. She develops her own world, rather loosely based
on reality and has always depended on us to make it true. I won't anymore. I
thought about everything I know about her and everything I remember about her.
The only good memory I have is of her letting me lick the beaters after making
cookies. I've had abusive boyfriends give me more than that and I don't insist
on loving them. There is nothing I know of her personality that makes me like
her. I don't respect her, I don't admire her. Why on earth should I love her?
Because she brought me onto this planet to abuse me?

I wrote a long letter to my mother in the hopes that we could talk and
reconcile. I wanted to work this out because this inexplicable desire within
me wants her to be or become the mother I always wanted. Reality has been
making demands, though, and I know she really doesn't deserve that grace. I'm
glad I feel this way because I'll still be dealing with her as time goes on,
and I'll need my anger to withstand her manipulations.  See? Even if I *want*
to get along, I still have to prepare myself as though it's a war. This is
love? This is a mother?

I haven't resolved the issue, but I can't help but think Matthew may not be
right. Maybe they aren't worth it and we should let them alone. I don't know.

Well, good luck to everyone dealing or starting to deal with their mother. I
hope it's easier for you than it has been for me.

							Anika



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