Torment Returns

I thought most people, even some bullying peers, could grow up and move on. Evidently, that's not the case.

Getting Better, I think

The time since my last post has been crazy, but productive in terms of my recovery. I've got a psychiatrist and psychologist I'm seeing regularly, both o whom were very highly recommended. I've been diagnosed with PTSD, General Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder - Recurring, and Social Phobia. I'm also on an anti-depressant. Zoloft, to be exact.

I have to admit that at first I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of taking anti-depressants. I felt that I shouldn't have to rely on a medication to feel normal or at ease. I thought my need to be "normal" was all in my head, and it was all in my head, so to speak. I guess my experiences reprogrammed me biochemically as well as psychologically.

But now, I can't imagine going without the meds. I can sleep, my mood is much more even-keeled, and I don't feel as self-conscious as before.

I still have a long way to go, but I think I'm off to a decent start.

Letter

Dear Raging Bitch,

It's been at least a month since I last talked to you. I'm not sure if you remember, but you called me because you couldn't somehow figure out to do some overly simple task on your computer that any illiterate monkey could have done.

You have toll-free technical support with your computer. You even have Google. But no, nagging your oldest child seemed like the best option. Especially since I am self-employed and that evidently equates to not really having a job in your small, reclusive world.

Even though I told you I was barely awake, you still thought it was a fantastic opportunity to become overbearingly irritated at me because I, after 33 years, still can't read your mind. But you know those old feelings of insecurity, defensiveness, inadequacy, lack of confidence, and fear. The very sound of your voice brought them back, just like every other time I have to talk to you.

I don't exactly remember how the call transpired because 1, I was barely awake and 2, I just didn't care that much about your problem, but I do remember the call ended with me hanging up on you for the first time in my life even without saying goodbye. You used to do that crap all the time to people, so I do wonder how your own medicine tasted. If you're in any way surprised that someone finally did it back, you shouldn't be.

It was kind of nice in a way. I called up my husband at work to celebrate. He was quite glad for me. He and his family don't like you either. What's funny is that neither I nor my hubby told them what happened in my childhood. They figured you out in no time flat. You see, you tipped my hubby off when you refused to acknowledge his presence for the first 45 minutes that we were under the same roof. You didn't even really go out of your way to introduce yourself. You were civil, but far from friendly.

But I digress . . .

Those old feelings didn't go away on their own this time. They festered and festered for days, eventually poisoning my relationships with everyone around me. I ended up in a psychiatrist's office this week and, for the first time in my life, I am on anti-depressants. I will be on anti-depressants probably for the rest of my life. Should hubby and I have children, I will probably be closely monitored for post-partum depression.

I have a mental illness, and it is your fault. You had no real empathy. I wonder how hard it was to feign interest in us at home, in private, when we weren't an extension of yourself. We wanted a mom. Yes, you were our mother, but that doesn't make you a MOM. You wanted us to stop being a big, god damn inconvenience.

I remember for most of your early single parenthood, you wouldn't even eat dinner with your own young children. I remember how you never attended a single tennis match of my sister's. I remember my teachers asking why Dad was at more of my school functions than you were. I remember, too, how your boyfriends always took center stage when they were around.

Let's not get into that incident involving my brother and feces again. That's really the main reason I'm seeing a psychiatrist AND a psychologist. I still can't sleep. I still hear the screams and see the movie in my head. I am too close to blurting out your name to go much further. That time, however, is coming.

I especially remember how, just last November, you were all too eager to show off yet another redecoration and remodeling project when I came home for my Grandma's funeral. You know, Dad's mom? You seemed oddly chipper and upbeat. All I wanted to do was change into my nicer clothes and then go pay my respects. I know you hated her and refused to let us visit her much as children, but she was my grandmother, you dumb cunt!

Anyway, I'm past my pill-popping time. I need to keep up my doses so that, maybe, one day I can know what it is like to feel like a normal human being. And don't call me. I won't pick up and I won't call you either.

Sincerely,

The Oldest Child

Rewind, Repeat.

I'm going back into therapy.

Again.

Maybe this time I make some progress.

Result

My mind has been everywhere today

Crazy thoughts dash in and out

Thoughts of hating you, hurting you

And not much else.

I'm forgetting how to empathize

I'm learning how to hate, how to spite,

Wanting to hurt without remorse,

And without regret.

There's a wall around me

Hard stone, rock solid, impermeable

It separates me from my humanity

And I don't care anymore.

People like me, a person you shaped

Are society's worst nightmare

Helpless others pay for your crimes

And it no longer bothers me.

I am very nearly detached

From those I should love and befriend

I feel nothing like a human

And everything like a demon.

Something is taking over me

It's doing so quietly, undetectable

Only I know it's happening already

And it might be too late some day.

It's probably time to check my brain.

Harvest

You'll sit in a room

Old age is your doom

Your mind slowly rots

Like others around you.

History repeats, reap what you sow

Surely now I presume that you know

You'll be locked in a box

And I'll forget about you.

Things You Should Hope I Don't Remember

Bed wetting: signs of a more serious psychological problem

Bed wetting: yet another thing you blamed on me

Bed wetting: you would blame me, then strip me naked

Bed wetting: naked, you would kick me

Bed wetting: naked, you would beat me

Bed wetting: naked, you would pick me up by my long hair and throw me into furniture, walls, whatever would bruise me under clothing

Bed wetting: naked, you shove my face into the wet mattress

Bed wetting: naked, you made sure you nearly suffocated me in my own urine

So tell me.....do you have a urine fetish or is it just fun to sadistically and sexually humiliate your 7-year old daughter?

Excrement: it was the sign of an ongoing accident

Excrement: you refused to acknowledge that accidents happen

Excrement: the youngest one had an accident

Excrement: the accident turned out to be a problem

Excrement: the problem was there was a medical cause

Excrement: you terrorized him because he had a medical cause

Excrement: you stripped him naked

Excrement: naked, you yelled at him and threatened him

Excrement: naked, he cried in fear and terror

Excrement: naked, you wiped it on his face

Excrement: naked, you told him that he should wear it on his face

Excrement: naked, since he wears it in his pants

Excrement: only later did a doctor tell you that his stool was unusually large

So tell me....do you have an excrement fetish, too, or is it fun to sadistically and sexually terrorize your 7-year old son?

Insomnia

My nightly rest is often delayed
Hours late into the night
By the noise, screams, cries for help
Of the young one in fright.

I'm often tired
Because I can't sleep

I'm often sluggish
Because I can't sleep

I drag
Because I can't sleep

It's not stress from work, friends, or marriage
It's my own personal trauma
Trauma inflicted by you at your hands
It's now my nightly drama

I used to say I was up late
Doing homework, Painting, Watching TV
I had a long drive this morning
I've been busy

I'm not sure I want to say those things anymore.
It's made me an enable you
Cover up, hide, and keep your "image" in tact
By deflecting away from you, too

I'm tired of that game
I'm tired of pretending
I'm tired of the lingering shame
I think that being tired
Should soon be ending

The next time they ask why my eyes are so heavy
I think I might just tell them, be honest for once
Because right now, I'm so tired
That I'm ready to rest.

I would love to see the look on your face
When it's time to put you in your place.

Humiliation

Unrelenting Fear
Is your means of control

Brutal Assault
Your favorite release

Our Modest Mistakes
A preferred scapegoat

Any Blunt Object
Your weapon of choice

Equals

The perfect formula for our degradation

Especially mine

Nothing is beyond you, beneath you
As long as it equals Betrayal
Betrayal of the innate feelings
A parent should have for their children

But you soul is black
Empty, cracked

You believe I should pay
For the feelings that
You cannot shake today
Evil bitch.

You Wretched, Horrible
Vile, Deplorable,
Heinous, Revolting
Reprehensible, Whore.

You went beyond hitting
Beyond kicking and spitting

You went to a place
With a Contemptible face
Your actions toward us Debase
How can you stand
To look at your own face?

There are times
And places you went
That a mother, even you
Were never meant.
Though you swore on occasion
You pretended to repent
You went far, too far,
When you gave up your
Blunt object
In favor of excrement.

You turned on the young one
Late, late one night
Screaming, crying, laden with fright
Over something which he had no control
It's that very night,
I heard your true soul

As the torture waged on
That fateful night
I glanced across the room
In desparation

The phone outside my door
Ttoo frozen in fear to use

I will never forgive
The sickening things
You forced the young one to live

One day your day will come
You will be judged
You will be rejected
Your intentions
On your soul reflected

When it's time
They'll know your crime

And your name.

Mask

You are what you want the world to see,
Outside the home or so you believe
You chatter and smile,
But I can tell that it's forced.

When the others are around,
You pretend that you're proud
However, I know
There's other places you'd rather be.

Your mom must be proud,
They would say aloud
I only agree
Because you're standing right there.

Two hours ago, you raged at me
I was Dense
And Stupid
And Ugly
And Useless
And Worthless
And Fat
And Lazy
A Slut
A Whore
An Idiot
A Retard.......

And let's not forget
You also hoped that I would be
Hit by a bus
Run down by a car
Have my head clubbed in
My hair chopped off
Pushed off of a bridge
Better off dead in a ditch
With my teeth knocked in.......

Now two hours later I'm pretending,
That my now captured glory will be neverending
However I know
Two hours from now it will change

When I get home I'll be
Dense
And Stupid
And Ugly
And Useless
And Worthless
And Fat
And Lazy
A Slut
A Whore
An Idiot
A Retard.......

All because you had a bad day.

For the Oppressed Everywhere

Cycle

I'm okay today,

And yesterday too.

I try to enjoy

These fleeting days.

I don't see them much.

I was creative

I was happy too

I played with the dog

I worked on my art

I get to relax.

These days are too few

And too far apart,

But I try and try

To have more of them

More often than not.

Denial

Turn and look the other way

Pretend it didn't happen

You know that wrong has been done

There's a way to end it all

If someone would rock the boat

"You know how she is" you say

You know you can't feign surprise

You know you should confront her

But family honor is

More important than our lives?

However if you rock the boat

There will be much hell to pay

Our absence is her revenge

When you're gone, her mask does fall

Our bruises are hidden well

I know I cannot trust her

I know you will not help us

It means you'd have to admit

Something is wrong in our home

Our small town would know it all

Your obvious apathy

Has sown a demonic seed

Inside me it grows wildly

I constantly nip its' bud

My soul it tries to possess

I now understand the cycle

How it comes to be this way

My rage is pointed at her

My disappointment at you

I know you've seen it before

Yes, I knew your compassion

But you didn't want to step in

If the townsfolk found out and

We'd pay again, this time more

Than the last time it's certain

You chose to know some, not much

You let reluctance take heed

It is so much easier

To move on for yourself when

You won't see your own child mar

That woman was your problem

A problem she'll always be

Towards her own children and

Towards her sister's children

And I imagine her brother's

If he and I should decide

To bring forth a child into

Our lives, she'll not be allowed

Unsupervised contact or

Weekend trips, visits alone

His own mother was like I

But turned out to be far more

Of a mother than you

Have the potential to be

For me I know there is hope

Your counterpart on dad's side

Knew all was not well, but hate

So strong she was denied us

She relied upon you for

A chance to see us at all

Even today, as I'm grown

If I were to state the facts

Heads would turn, facts pushed aside

They would opt to subdue me

Because it means all's still wrong

My siblings and I somehow

Must know it's time to end it

We don't speak it, share it but

I wonder if our disinterest

In children is a surprise

Two of us have married but

But children not considered

Seriously and our other

Sibling is not dating and

I'm sure that's all her fault

We learned from her that anger, shame

Humiliation, kicks, slaps and

Other far more degrading

Acts are par for the course should

You prescribe to her methods

Now you lie in a distant

Bed and she doesn't visit

She's got more important things

On her mind like those flat and

Empty material things

Different

I'm not like them and I don't know why

The other kids don't like me and I don't know why

I'm good for teacher, in school I try

I'm nice and like the things they do

Like pizza, recess, and movies, too.

They call me stupid and I don't know why

They won't play with me and I don't know why

Can't they see I'm a kid like them?

I don't hit them, hurt them, or call them names

They still don't let me join in games.

They laugh at me when I walk by

They say bad things that make me cry

I don't understand what I did

Is it my hair? My clothes? My toothy grin?

I'm not that different, yet I don't fit in.

It's like they know there's a secret

To survive each day I just have to keep it

I think they know that I have a secret

Buried inside, locked up, shut tight.

But I can't stop thinking about last night.

I try to fit in and it's hard

I think they see my soul so scarred

It's like they think I'm diseased

They like to see me stay outside

Away from them, I'm not their kind.

I wish that they could simply see

The kind of good friend I could be

I wish that I could share my secret

And dreams, wishes, stories too

I wish that I could start life anew

I have to pretend that everything is alright

Or it will be worse, I live in fright

Much of my heart is broke apart

I pray for mercy and for relief

That day won't come is my belief.

I'm so young and so sad inside

Each day I have something else to hide

Far too young to know much in life

The saddest truth is I want to die

Even sadder, I'm only five.