Dear mother,
I know you don't realize it, and I know you never will, but you broke me. I have been following a page on Facebook called Emerging From Broken, and the author posted a quote from her book the other day. "I was not born broken. There was something that happened to me that caused the issues that I struggle with." And it goes on to say exactly what I have felt for years. I was not born broken, I know that. I was born whole, and I was a happy-go-lucky, funny, adorable kid. As you know, I used to wear those funny pair of red glasses around all the time because they were cute and funny and so was I. And because kids do those sorts of things.
You broke me, mom. I was happy until the age of six. That year, 1986, was when dad told you he was having an affair, had fallen out of love with you, and was leaving. I can't even imagine how hard that must have been for you to hear, and how devastated, broken, and humiliated you must have felt. It was very hard for you, I know. But, I always got along with dad more and, so, as a six-year-old, I didn't understand everything, but I knew that I wanted to be with dad. My older sister always wanted to be with you, and you liked that. That gave you some solace in the midst of such chaos. I wanted to be with dad, and made that clear, and so that's when it began.
You broke me, mom. In the last couple of years, through therapy, and support from others, I have come to realize that what you did to me was in fact, emotional abuse. It took me a long time to come to terms with this, and I know that you don't think I should use that term, or even blame you for what you did, but abuse is the right term. I know it is because it has had such far-reaching effects on my life that I'm still having to deal with the consequences of what you did.
You broke me, mom. You used your power and authority as my mother to manipulate, harass, brain-wash, and guilt me for 23 years. In the beginning, when I was six, the abuse was really bad. When I cried that I wanted to go be with dad, you screamed at me to just go and be with him then. But, obviously I knew that you were screaming at me so you must not have been very happy with what I said, so I shouldn't want that or say that. You used my sister to do your bidding for you, too. We got to visit with dad and his family on Wednesday evenings and every other weekend, but you didn't like that, so you used my sister to make sure I felt bad the whole time, and couldn't possibly enjoy myself at dad's. She was your pawn. Of course I don't blame her, because she was young like me. I blame you. You filled my head with so many lies that I could never figure out what was the truth and what was a lie. My dad and stepmom had to "de-program" all the lies that you told me every other weekend when they had me, and by Sunday night, when I was almost de-programmed, I would have so much anxiety because now I had to go back to your house. I loved Friday nights when dad would come pick us up, and I absolutely hated Sunday nights after he had us for the weekend because then I'd have to see you again.
You broke me, mom. Because of not being validated by you, or anyone for that matter, I have always sought validation from older, motherly women, who were my mentors. Even my therapists have always been older, motherly women. And you have always hated that. You have screamed at me "You have a mother that you don't want to talk to!" You are exactly right, too. I have a mother who abused me and treated me terribly, so why on earth would I want to talk with her?! You always made me feel bad for seeking out these mentors and getting validation because, I think you knew that what you were doing was wrong, and you didn't want anyone to find out.
You broke me, mom. Because of your abuse, I tried to kill myself at the age of 14. I was on the adolescent unit of the psych hospital and tried to tell the doctors and nurses what you were doing to me. They didn't hear me, just like no one ever did, and told you, dad, stepmom, stepdad, and me that it was a chemical imbalance and that I would hopefully do better with medication. You never accepted responsibility and so the abuse continued. I tried to do what you wanted, and I tried to be close to you, because every girl wants to be close with her mother, but I never could. You projected a nice, wonderful, motherly person on the outside, but I really thought you hated me. Sure, you would tell me that you loved me and you would come to my school functions (you were a teacher yourself, so you had to do those things), but I have never really connected with you. I've always feared you and wanted to be as far away from you as possible. I tried to cut off contact when I was ten and went to live with dad, but you made it so unbearable for me that I eventually came back to live with you. You just couldn't let me be happy, could you?
You broke me, mom. I've attempted to kill myself many times, and all because of the illnesses that you created in me. I've had low self-esteem all my life, and that is because of you. I have Bipolar Disorder, Major Anxiety, and I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder many years ago. I am living well with my illnesses now, and that's only because I cut off most communication with you seven years ago. I just couldn't take your abuse anymore. Granted, it had gotten better in 23 years, but it had not gone away.
You broke me, mom, and now I live with the consequences. I have mental illness because you broke me. I used to struggle every single day, but now I don't, thank God. I don't talk to you anymore, but the tapes keep playing in my head, like my former therapist used to say. I don't even need you to abuse me anymore, I just know in my head what you would say, how you would react, and the guilt you always made me feel, and I instantly have anxiety.
You broke me, mom. I used to think that it was all my fault. The illnesses, the terrible or non-existent coping skills (like cutting), the reason why I never have gotten along with you. But now I know that it's not my fault, it's yours.
You broke me, mom. I am married now, and have been happily so for almost 7 years. You often told me that I would never get married and that I should live alone. I used to have so much anger, which was meant for you, but got directed at anyone who came my way. I used to hit and kick my sisters, but it was all directed at you. I knew that I wasn't allowed to kick or hit you, so I did it to them. I shouldn't have done it to anyone because that's not right, but I was so mad that I didn't know what to do with myself.
You broke me, mom. I am finally putting myself back together. It has taken years, and mostly no contact with you, but with the help of my loving and amazing wife, my pups, and many years of therapy, I am almost there. I don't think I will ever be completely there, because your words and actions broke me, mom. I am so grateful for those people who have helped me know that I am worth everything. My wife loves me unconditionally and that is everything.
You broke me, mom, but I am finally putting myself back together.
Megan
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