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A key word that you will see:

Fragmentation: a mental process where a person becomes intensely emotionally focused on one aspect of themselves, such as “I am angry” or “no one loves me,” to the point where all thoughts, feelings and behavior demonstrate this emotional state, in which, the person does not or is unable to take into account the reality of their environment, others or themselves and their resources. This is a term that my therapist and I use and is on the continuum of dissociation.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Past Journal Entry: Mother's Hitting ~ Part V


PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: January 26, 2006

...I also keep remembering being startled awake by the vacuum cleaner and my mother screaming my name and for me to come help as  I already was supposed to know.  Sometimes, the door would come flying open and she would be constantly screaming "that I was bad, should know better, was lazy, should have been up, made too much of a mess and need to hurry and help." 

I felt so overwhelmed and had difficulty comprehending as I was startled awake.  When we move the the house, I immediately jumped out of bed and got dressed, but when I was younger it seemed more difficult to understand and to wake up which only seemed to anger her more.  I keep seeing the attachments being thrown at me and I would duck, so I didn't get hit.  I think she was trying to hit me.  It really scared me.  She seemed like someone else.

Kept seeming like she asked me to do things that I didn't understand, but I better give her some attachment.  If I gave her the wrong one, she would say I was stupid and should know the difference between the attachments.  I tried really hard to remember, but couldn't always remember, so I felt really bad and scared.  If I gave her the wrong one she would throw it at me, hen she would start pointing the right one out with the long tubes, but would hit me with the tubes if, but would hit me with the tubes if she was on the chair reaching the corners.  If she was lower sometimes I'd get hit with the tubes or she would just slap me.  Cleaning the bathroom, the floors and dusting usually ended up in me getting hit and almost always being called names and being screamed at when I was younger.  I was easier when I was older.

The whole cleaning the house thing was such a nightmare and I was so confused, terrified and felt bad...I couldn't do anything right...everything was bad.  I was bad...I made too much of a mess.  I should have known more, so that I could help her better.  I shouldn't have been taller and stronger.  I should have gotten up earlier.  I was really terrified and felt so bad and confused and frustrated that I couldn't remember or do what she wanted.  The screaming at me seemed so constant.

I really felt as if I were a bad person all the time from a very young age and terrified at some level from either her, my father or step-father.  And I felt so alone.  It is really painful if I let myself feel some of this .  I'm tired of crying, but I feel like I'm holding back my tears...felt like I did that last night with the tears getting caught in my throat and chest.

I never did cry, scream or say anything.  I just waited for her to stop and just went away.  It feels like I really taught myself not to make a sound, no matter how much emotional or physical pain I was in.  I always felt like I did something wrong or that something really bad was going to happen if I did.  Sometimes, felt like I was a bad person and deserved to die.  I felt really bad on so many different levels.  It is hard for me to think of my mother or step-father as abusive, in my head.  I had to make it something else.  I really feel like crying and like I need to hurt myself or die.

Comments and Observations:  I am really numb, so I don't really have anything to say.  This did continue from maybe six years old to fifteen, at least the physical part of it.  I'm feeling a little sick right now.  This is the last of journal entry dated January 26, 2006 in the morning.


Anonymous said...

(((CC))) I'm here listening.

Wishing you well,

Just Be Real said...

Oh my gosh dear one, I am so very sorry how you were treated. How you described what your mother did while cleaning. It was like a weekly ritual to have you there just so she could let out her anger, hateful issues on you. I am so very sorry. I can sense the fear in your words. ((((CC))))

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