We went over the Kroger’s thing and about how that was the second time the mother left for several days. The first she left because she said if she didn’t she’d strangle me to death. I told her she could leave but she wasn’t getting the money, she’d leave without her purse, her check book and the bank card. She walked away, walked down the street in the middle of the night. The sister was crying at the window telling me it was my fault she left. I told her not to worry about it, we’d deal with it in the morning, go to bed, blah, blah, blah. She did. The mother came back a few days later as if nothing happened. Basically the same thing as the Kroger experience only with Kroger I would have held guilt over my head that it was me that killed her. Driving her away is one thing but feeling like you caused your mom to kill herself is a totally different thing. We talked about reactions to the mother coming home in the 4th grade. We all acted like nothing was wrong. Nobody skipped a beat, the same as in when she did that in the 10th grade with the Kroger’s thing. Nobody skipped a beat. I didn’t even try to process that I may have killed my mother. I felt rather let down when she walked in the house. There may have been a sigh of relief OR maybe I still believed she wasn’t capable of dying. The reason I didn’t go through with trying to kill her as a child was because I feared missing and I worried she wasn’t capable of dying. She’d come back, eventually, when I got comfortable she’d come back. I’d say with the Kroger’s thing I was torn, confused- there was fear, shame, anger and disappointment. Crazy days.
I told him Saturday evening I walked into my second bedroom from the laundry room and right there in full devilish colour was my mother. I did a double take. Of course she wasn’t there. It took my breath away. Popped a clonapin after that one.
We talked again about the whole torture thing. Talked about needles in the roof of my mouth and the souls of my feet. He asked if I was still afraid of her. I told him the only person I turn into a puddle of nothing in front of is her. Yell yeah I’m still scared of her. The sexual abuse part of growing up with her was far less damaging than the physical abuse and the out right torture. How I could say that I don’t know but I think I have less guilt over that than I do over the physical abuse and the torture. Now that I think about it I have less guilt but just as much fear cause if you ask me about it I’ll all but cower. If asked face to face about torture and physical abuse I turn to nothing. I turn into a very submissive, do anything you want as long as you don’t hurt me type yes woman. the thing is, I’m not going to beg. I’m very quiet, was very quiet during most of the mother’s sessions. I knew when to yell out……never mind. That use to piss her off. Fuck.
We talked about that. Talked about her seeing us as objects and not human beings. Talked about growing up with a sadist was normal because we were so isolated. We had no idea others didn’t live with that extreme. We didn’t spend the night other places, didn’t have a lot of company, didn’t have much contact with television to see the Beavers grow up in TV normal land. I had no idea the world wasn’t as crazy as home because I didn’t have much contact with it. By the time I did I was too brainwashed to say anything against her….too scared to tell. I thought she would have killed me but she’s a coward, she would have beaten me senseless and I may have died from that but to out and out kill me on purpose, she didn’t have the guts or the mercy. I don’t know how many times I fuckin saw that damn light in front of me and I was too scared to look at it. I remember thinking that I didn’t know what was over there and I had to stay. It was right in front of my face but I didn’t know what was over there. A stupid ass bright yellow fucking light in front of my face. I’ve been told before about near death experiences but that was when I got older. All I know is there was a fucking light in my face and I was more afraid of it than of her. If in fact you see light before you die then I wish to God I’d crossed over. Cause I wonder what the fuck I’m doin here.
All of this comes up from a trip to Kroger’s. Oh how I look forward to next month’s shopping trip. Don’t turn off the damn car!!!!!!
I told him I thought I could handle the house without her because it was my responsibility to pay the bills. It was her money but I wrote the checks. I had the checkbook, the bank card, etc. I wrote the rent check, I wrote the check for the utilities and mailed them off. I had all the financial shit so it seemed logical to me that I could run that household without her. Both times when she left I still had access to all of that so it seemed logical to me that I could run the household for as long as we could remain undetected. As an adult I look back and think, a 4th grader can’t raise her older sister. I don’t care how much money is in the bank, a 4th grader can’t run a household. A sophomore in high school can do a better job but still inexperience will step in, hell freedom for the first time could really cause some problems.
Likened our childhood to a chained dog. The dog is beaten and kicked around by his one and only owner. He was born there; he knows nothing else and assumes all other owners in the world are the same. The mother said she owned us. I said a chained and abused dog either becomes extremely submissive or he becomes a biter. He asked which one I am. Both. He didn’t call me a dog, we were still using the example of a chained dog.
Another hell-of-a session. I did a drawing in the cab on the way home. Came home and put it on the PC and did some other stuff with it. Time flew by. That was 4PM, it’s now 10:30PM. Dinner is in the oven. Chicken breast on top of fresh spinach. We’re also having carrots with it and pumpkin pie and of course coffee (decaf).
Goals: take the trash out then chill – period
Destiny for Morton’s Pride
Session Review Monday, November 05, 2007-10:36PM EST
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