My first husband was an alcoholic, and I often characterize that marriage as abusive -- not physically abusive, but definitely emotionally and mentally abusive. It's funny how I will apply that standard to him but not to my parents, who probably inflicted just as much emotional abuse on me, if not more.
Here's a thought: Maybe by someone else's standards it might not have been that bad. Did it damage you? Yes. Do you continue to struggle with its effects? Yes. Does it cause you pain? Yes. So it's bad to YOU.
I find I get in a bad spot when I start comparing myself to others -- I wasn't raped, I wasn't beaten, I wasn't starved. No, I wasn't any of those things, but I didn't have a wonderful childhood, either. Was I abused? Yes. Were you abused? It sounds like it. By some people's standards, it might not constitute abuse, and it might not sound that terrible. But we're still struggling with it. And it was abuse to us. And it and its aftereffects are very real.
As far as your mom saying, "It wasn't that bad," I think that's pure denial. If she played a role in it, I'm sure she doesn't want to acknowledge it and accept responsibility. So I think you can dismiss that out of hand, rather than let it cause you to question what you know is true. You know?
Hugs. What happened to us might not have been that bad, to some people. But it was bad enough, wasn't it?
