Child Abuse Story of Healing and Recovery From Jillian

by Jillian
(Location Undisclosed)

My story of abuse may not sound that bad. I include this disclaimer only because the legal definition does not cover all corners of what is, rightfully, child abuse. My definition of child abuse is anything a person can do to a child that significantly impedes their emotional, cognitive, physical, or spiritual development and pursuit of happiness and success.

I want to describe my experiences in a nutshell, because I'd rather focus on how I healed. But a nutshell belongs nowhere near what I experienced. She didn't just "raise her voice." She screamed like a banshee at the slightest provocation. She didn't just have "mood swings." She had crazy roller coaster emotions that were all just too much for any kid to keep up with, let alone one in an emotional coma from years of walking on eggshells.

The slightest wrong step would send her over the edge, and the steps were always changing. One day you would ask her to get a cup down for you from the cupboard, and she would just get it down for you. The next day, the same request might make her launch into a screaming fit. Now, an adult may be able to cope with an experience like this because they understand "highs and lows," "mental illness," "exceptional stress" "emotional coping," but a kid has none of this. Naturally, I thought her explosions were because of me, and some sort of unidentified stress I was putting on her. So I tried to compensate with a natural talent of mine - cleaning. This only provided another outlet for the abuse. She would complain that "she does everything around here and no one ever helps her" despite my considerable assistance. She would ask me to do things for her (i.e. sweep the floor, dust, vacuum) then she would say I did not do them and I needed to do it again. This sent a strong message of "nothing you ever do will be good enough."

I want to share one particular instance that really drove home this message. One day she was brushing my hair and she asked me to get a scrunchy from the basket in the bathroom. I couldn't find one. She insisted there was one. I still couldn't find it. All communication lapsed. She started roaring (not words just sounds), charged into the bathroom, ripped the shelves from the wall down into the bathtub, picked out a scrunchy, and held it up inches from my face. She snarled through clenched teeth "THERE, A SCRUNCHY, WAS THAT SO HARD." As a kid, I could not handle outbursts of anger like this. I would usually cry and run away, but this time, something different happened. I went completely numb inside. This ended up being my survival tactic. I did not rediscover the part of me that feels interpersonal empathy until I was 19 and ready to admit that I was abused as a child. When I started to hit puberty at around age 12, I became an unwilling part of my mother's soap opera. I say soap opera because she would make elaborate theories about all the ways I was out to destroy her life, or back stab and use her. None of these were anything but fiction, but I still had to put up with them. One moment she would be ignoring me and jump in the bathtub crying with a bottle of wine and calling her friends telling them (and me) her daughter is destroying her life, and the next she would be squeezing me in her arms and sobbing all over me, saying how she can't live without me in her life. I never understood any of it, I would just have to keep pulling my emotions in and play along with whatever it was she wanted.

So with that out of the way, I want to describe what I looked like at the end of 14 years of abuse, and how I started healing.

1. As I mentioned, I had cut off the parts of me that show affection or feel empathy towards other people because those had been exploited or rejected so many times. If people shared problems with me, I would only give a blank stare, not knowing what to feel or say.

2. I was completely unable to show anger towards anyone or anything, because I could never out-anger my mother, and her anger would be fueled by my anger.

3. Related to the above reason, and compounded by the "walking on eggshells" feeling, I couldn't ask for things, even simple things. For instance, I worked in a restaurant, and couldn't ask the grill cooks for sauces, etc.

4. As such, I also could not speak up for myself if injustice was being done to me by people I regard. I had what we call "learned helplessness." I still have this to some extent.

5. I suffered from invisibility. Years of being invisible in my own home to avoid my mother and her outbursts led to me being invisible in society.

My healing process was complicated, and began when:

1. I stopped telling myself "other people have it worse." If you are reading this, do not ever say that to yourself. Sure, other people have it worse. But when you break your arm do you sit there and be grateful you don't have 2 broken arms, or do you get yourself to a hospital fast? Then why isn't it the same with emotional wounds? I was hurt, I was suffering for it, my life was suffering, my chances for success (career or personal) were suffering, and something had to be done.

2. I let myself feel my emotions. All the hurt, all the anger, all the self-blame, all the guilt, all the agony, the rage, the fear. My emotions were right where I left them when I was about 7 or 8 years old.

3. After feeling the emotions through, expressing them fully, after many tissue boxes, I felt forgiveness. It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't mine that she acted the way she did.

4. I talked to other moms and parents about their experiences with parenting, and the stresses involved. This helped me understand my mother's perspective.

5. I studied up on alcoholism and mental illness for the above reason.

6. I learned that we inherit all of our problems from our ancestors. In looking at my own problems and issues, I understood exactly where my mother was coming from. Frustration, feeling like she's not acknowledged or appreciated, not being able to directly express or receive love, abandonment, feeling like you have to play games with people to make them "prove" that they love you. I had coping skills that allowed me to avert acting on these impulses, but they were there.

7. Self love. Self love above all will erase the effects of abuse.

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Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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