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The Journey of Hope

English: Hillside on the Hope Road Hillside on...

English: Hillside on the Hope Road Hillside on the Hope Road. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Welcome to my blog…. I hope I have few visitors. Only people who have suffered emotional torture will be able to relate to content of this blog. I hope there are not many people who google terms like emotional abuse, cruel Mothers and coping with miserable memories. If you are here though, I am sorry. I suspect you also are looking for insight and healing. I don’t have the answers but I welcome kindred souls to my site. Feel free to share your stories and thoughts. Perhaps we can find some comfort together. Maybe we can heal. That is my prayer. I also pray for the abusers of this world. They are pathetic, miserable creatures. In the Broadway Show, Les Miserables, there is a song where it says that to love another person is to see the face of God. I think that people who do not love another person see and experience only darkness. Cruelty toward one’s own child is some sort of sickness and perversion.

I am not putting my real name on this blog out of fear and for privacy. I will perhaps alter details a bit as I write to hide identifying information. I am real person but I just don’t want all that will come along with exposing details of my family. I had a major health scare recently and I decided I want to leave some sort of record of my life. Maybe it will be of help to some poor child somewhere who is facing an abusive Mother. That poor child may well be an adult who still struggles with horrible memories of childhood. I don’t want to go to some support group. I don’t want to talk about my bad memories to my family! That would be a mistake. I don’t want to bother friends with my bad memories. Maybe if I write out my memories, they will leave me. Having a witness helps bring about healing and closure. I think that is why the Catholics find value in confession. Having a witness allows one to let go of the bad feelings associated with sin. Knowing my story is out in the world provides me a witness and I will feel better. At least, I hope I will feel better. I just don’t want to reveal my identity though. I hope you will understand. My Mother is still alive and I really don’t want to point her out to the world. She knows what she did and she can talk to God about it. There is no need to cause her pain and embarrassment. I wouldn’t be better than her if I did that. My Mother is like 110 years old and I suspect she will outlive me. I have tried to work things out with her but it is useless. She is in denial and frankly, she is freaking mean. It is a strange sort of mean. She seems so sweet and gentle. It is a complex situation where there is no resolution. There is just me trying to make sense out of it all on my own. It is evil that I am trying to understand. I will never understand it. I am not meant to understand it. While I can’t understand evil, perhaps I can heal  from it. That is what I want.

I have always tried to be diplomatic and fair in real life. In this blog though, I plan to be selfish. I am going to write out what I remember from my perspective without trying to understand or justify the behavior of others. I am going to focus on my own feelings. This is a place where I can complain and whine. Sorry. I am sure the struggle to find my voice and my way will be awkward and clumsy. I apologize in advance. I don’t know how long I will blog on this. My thought is to blog until I quit having memories pop up in my everyday life. I want to focus on the memories and process them as they come up until hopefully I am at peace. I suspect I will be blogging on my deathbed. There won’t be any particular order to the memories. I really plan to write about whatever memory surfaces. It will be an organic process I suppose.

And so, my journey begins…………thank you for being with me.


Little Idiot, my Mother’s nickname for me

  1. gothrules permalink

    Little Idiot is your mother’s nickname for you? I have a feeling you have a nickname for her. I have read many of your memories and I am staggered by the hate that is your mother. I’m sure you are familiar with Freud. One of his theories was projection – meaning people turn their self-loathing onto someone else. That is your mother. I’m convinced every time she verbally assaults you she is talking to herself. Your mother’s self-hatred must have come from someone else who abused her. Perhaps it was your grandparents. Perhaps it came from another source, but someone as terrible as her is suffering, hence the reason she is making you suffer.You mentioned Les Miserables in one of your blogs….misery loves company it seems to me. No one can save this miserable woman.

  2. Hi: It is pretty incredible isn’t it? What kind of Mother calls her daughter a little idiot as a nickname? I am familiar with Freud and I understand projection and agree that is what is going on with her, at least to some extent. I don’t agree with the idea that she was abused. I think she made a decision to be an instrument for evil. I think it came more from being spoiled than abused. Greed, selfishness and jealousy seem to be the guiding forces in her behavior. My aunts are not warm and fuzzy people but they are like Mother Teresa compared to my Mom. My Grandfather has been described by all who knew him as a very gentle, kind man. My Grandmother was a battleaxe but there was never any indication from anyone that she was cruel to her children. She wasn’t so warm, but not cruel. In her old age, she was a gentle, easy person …at least that is what I experienced first hand.

    I have tried to find some reason to explain and perhaps even justify my Mother’s behavior. I might have some compassion or at least some understanding of her if I thought she had been abused or mistreated. There is no indication of that and I have checked. I personally have this belief that she made some sort of deal, perhaps stupidly or even accidentally, with the dark side. I honestly believe there is some evil entity that lives within her or at least works through her. I am scared of my Mother. It is not exactly my Mother I am afraid of…it is some horrible force in her. She can call me names and say nasty things, but to feel murderous rage and hatred from her is unnerving. To look in her eyes and see reptilian eyes that are filled with hate…I can’t describe it. It is horrifying. It is like being in the presence of a demon dressed up in a human disguise. I do not say that lightly. i don’t exactly think I have been emotionally abused. I think I grew up around the presence of evil.

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