me, too
Just a little time now - I have company coming today. Just wanted to say I am with you on this one.
I didn't remember my childhood but I knew I was really messed up and sought answers. When I did remember, boy was I mad. But is was the start of a very long road to recovery. I have worked at it for years. I will always work at it but today I have half an understanding of the mechanisms and a full appreciation for the person I have become. I am much better now and can cope adequately.
My mother was a very unhappy person, almost certainly mentally ill, almost certainly a closet drinker. She would have rages and act out violently. She hated my father and wasn't that happy about us. Two of us were especially attacked when she was unhappy, nothing we did, just she was angry. There were beatings, of course, some in the closet time, breaking our toys, throwing them against the wall, but worst of all were the cruel cruel words. "Ugly, stupid, crazy. I wish I had killed you when you were a baby, smothered you with a pillow." And I know she meant every word. When I approached 12, she added "*****" to the list. AND we moved around all the time, state to state, so there was no outside support system for any of us. So much more, no time to list them all, no wanting to remember them all and ruin my day today. Well, I was a mess when I finally left home (eloped) at 18.
I will inject here, when I had children I made it a point to treat them with kindness, respect and love. I did do that one right. I would have sooner cut out my tongue that say cruel things to them. Life wasn't perfect for them but at least they knew their mother loved them and they always had a strong core.
One thing that really helped when I was a kid, a light bulb moment. When I was 11 and mother was raging out of control, my father and siblings stood watching. And I said, "Why is she doing this?" And my father said, "Don't you know she is crazy?" That REALLY helped. Before that, I thought it was me causing all this. From that time on, I recognized it was not me, it was the situation, nonetheless, I was the one with the problem and I needed to work on being more normal, at least more normal looking.
Dad wasn't a big help either. He was mean to Mom, which made Mom mad, then she was mean to us. As far as we went, he was deeply disappointed in his life so stayed away at work a lot. Just left us with a crazy woman, good luck kids. Later he condemned us because we made bad decisions, kept disowning us. I was disowned about 4 times and my parents always were ashamed of me because I kept messing up. They would even lie to the relatives, not tell them I got divorced again, or things like that. Brag on me about things that never happened, just so the relatives wouldn't know what a bad daughter they had.
Then followed years of abusive and/or addictive relationships. Finally depression and anxiety. Short term therapy at times of crisis would help me understand what I was doing to myself, one insight or another, move me forward a little more.
I do have a deep well of anger within me. I seldom access it but when it comes I recognize what it is, let it be, don't speak or act on it. I still feel life is unfair that I have to walk around with that inside. I feel shame, too, I need to do more reading here. I really really do not have a handle on it yet.
Jobs. Mostly underemployed. I invariably started low but then got promoted, higher and higher, as it turned out I was not "stupid" after all. One of the jobs was in a MR state institution, to make a long story short, the place was investigated by the law, a lot of people removed, and the ones still there, including me, had to deal with riots from the patients, as the heavy handed "controls" were lifted from them. I was hurt several times, plus as a supervisor I had to go out into the fray and "rescue" people, I mean literally go haul a violent patient off of a staff member. And write it all up. And deal with the bureucrocy. (Spelling, I know) People might not believe that but I really was a supervisor in a violent ward during riots. (How stupid was that, for me to stay?) I bore up for a good while. Then I had a breakdown. Not screaming crazy running down the street but disabling depression, panic attacks, I had learned my limits. That was the first time I took medication. I took a stress leave. And then I quit.
I am not a shining example of health today but I manage. I am mostly okay. I could get medication now but I choose not to use it as I can manage adequately without it. If I needed it, I would use it. Prefer not to.
Today is not so bad compared to the past but not heaven on earth either. I have an alcoholic husband, so obviously all is not well. But I have a peaceful home in the country, too, and mostly I am calm. I do a lot of things that I want to do. Live life mostly in a way that is beneficial to me. As far as I understand it today. At least no one is hitting me or calling me names. If they did, I would cut them out in a New York second, no matter who they are. Life is easier since I made that rule.
I have been told I have PTSD and no wonder if I do. I still don't understand the childhood thing. They are dead now, so easier to try to deal with, easier to "forgive." I guess. I am still very conflicted in how to see all that. I want to accept them as they were, but. You know. I guess the best thing is, most of the time I am peaceful. My life is not over. I am still learning and may yet achieve more good things.