Welcome!!! Please, if you are new here, READ THIS FIRST!!! Thank You!!!

Thank you for visiting. Content MAY BE TRIGGERING ESPECIALLY FOR THOSE WHO HAVE EXPERIENCED ABUSE, STRUGGLE WITH SELF-INJURY, SUICIDE, DEPRESSION OR AN EATING DISORDER. Contains graphic descriptions of suicidal thoughts, self-injury and emotional, physical and sexual abuse. Do not read further if you are not in a safe place. If you are triggered, please reach out to your support system, a mental health professional or call 911.

All images and content are Copyright © to ClinicallyClueless. All rights to the images and all content on this site and on all ClinicallyClueless materials belong exclusively to the artist/author. No use of any content, commercial or non-commercial is permitted without written consent from the author and artist.

Disclaimer: Although I have worked with persons with mental illness for twenty years, I do not have a Master's Degree or a license. This is not meant to be a substitute for mental health care or treatment. Please obtain professional assistance from the resources listed on the right of the page, if needed. And call 911 if you or someone is in immediate danger.

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.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Letter to my mother ~ Part IV ~ Final

Letter to my mother ~ Part IV


I am so enraged at you for consistently ignoring any signs that I was being abused or in danger. However, I am more enraged at you for the abuse that YOU did to me. What the hell did you think when I kept scratching my crotch and rear. You even teased me that I had worms because I was dragging my rear across the carpet like a dog. You would slap my hand away. Didn’t it ever occur to you to ask or take me to the doctor? You were blind to any sense of distress that I may have expressed. You continue to put blinders on when it comes to me. But, it was your responsibility, as a mother, to protect and comfort me. You apparently chose not to do so.

You chose not to handle it when I had my suicide attempt and even more so when after that event you ignored my friends warnings that I was suicidal. You never took me seriously when it was needed. You were too busy with knowing if the school would find out. Were you afraid that they would find out how much abuse was taking place by Gene and YOU!! I was not being dramatic or sensitive. It was that bad!!! You close your eyes whenever I need something. Again, you just fucking ignored me and continue to do so. You are such a selfish bitch!!

Everything always has had to and still does revolve around you. Even, my birthday was always about what you wanted and what you liked. You rarely gave any consideration to what I wanted or liked. It was always about what YOU. And, sometimes you would remember and sometimes you acted like you didn’t. I feel like you don’t want to acknowledge my birth or me. But, like it or not you are my mother and that is your responsibility and not mine!!

I am so enraged at you for making me the butt of your teasing and joking. You were sadistic because you got so much pleasure out of teasing me to the point that it was extremely hurtful and painful. I was like a toy or something to you and Gene to play with. And, I just want to slap you over and over again when you still make jokes about it now. Besides what I’ve already mentioned, you knew that I was scared of snails and frogs, but you would purchase things with them on items for me, teased me, and allowed Gene to terrorize me. Once, it was to the point that I lost my front tooth by biting you trying to get away from him and then you just laughed. You are just a sadistic bitch.

Your sadism went even so far as giving me some wine when I was young to see how I would react. Then, you made fun of me and started to tell what I did to everyone, but would omit the part that YOU gave me the wine. You still mention it today. You really screwed up my life.

I hate you and am so enraged that (those words don’t even come close to how I feel about you) for making my life so unpredictable. Every single day that I lived with you was unpredictable either because of you or Gene. I never knew if it was going to be a safe day or not…if one of you would rage against me or if you were going to hit me. You fucking didn’t pull it together enough not to take it out on me. The worst part is that the rules changed all the time related to how one of you felt. I hate you so much for making my life like that.

I really hate you so much for making housework days hell for me. From the time we lived in the duplex until I moved out, you were always so unpredictable. Much of the time, I would wake up with you yelling at me to come help you. When we lived in the duplex, when I couldn’t figure out the right attachment that you wanted, you used to throw parts of the vacuum cleaner at me. This included hitting and beating me with the electrical cord or the hoses. You made Barbara feel so uncomfortable when she slept over and awoke to one of these mornings that you raged at me, that she left without saying anything. She just walked home with her sleeping bag and belonging. I was so fucking embarrassed that you would do that when I had a friend over. You never apologized because nothing was or is ever your responsibility.

I am so fucking angry with you. When I was still in my crib, to get me to stop crying you would put a pillow over my face or pinch me. Or just walk away!! I eventually learned not to cry even as I got older. All because you abused me. When and before we moved to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s, you used to hit me in the mouth. Then, as I got older you would slap me in the face or slug me in the back and most of the time I never knew the reason why. You were such a sadistic bitch because you would show me the bruise on your hand and make a joke about it. I hate you so much.

When we lived in the duplex, once you came into my room while I was on a chair dusting my bookcase. You came in and slapped me out of the blue causing me to fall off the chair and for it to topple. You didn’t say anything and just left. I didn’t say anything and just continued to dust. I am so enraged because by then, I learned not to cry, to numb the pain out and not to discuss it. You really screwed up my life with your abuse because I learned to do that to protect myself from you. I was always at fault, because you never had the guts enough to take any responsibility instead I now take responsibility for things that have nothing to do with me.

I remember you calling me evil and bad all the time. You reinforced that by the salt and leaving the devil or death tarot card in my room. Yes, I knew it was you. You even told me when “Rosemary’s Baby” was on television that you wish you would have set me on fire in my crib just like she did. You threatened to push me out of the moving car, push or throw me through the window or just leave me somewhere. The worst part is all the things that you said to me in which I have really struggled with my whole life and still do. You really fucked me up!!!

I hate you because you did so much damage to me that I have been in therapy for two decades and have had four psychiatric hospitalizations. It has cost me significantly financially and permanently emotionally. You were never there for me as a mother and I thank God for Arleen, Michael, Grandpa and Grandma for they allowed me to be a child and expressed love, compassion and caring toward me. I don’t even think that you are capable of doing that. You are so egocentric. When or if you did showed any affection, it always feels fake like it is something you “should” do or that you want something from me. There is so much more, but I cannot go any further. It would really take a whole book. But, you really fucked up my life and I have spent too much time trying to repair some of the damage that you have cost me. I don’t care if you take responsibility for your abuse or not because I know the truth. I would love to find a way for to you to pay for the bills because I have them because you fucked up my life.

I am still so enraged about the lies that you kept telling Arleen and Judy!! I wonder how many lies you told me and others.I do know now that you told me many, many, many lies about myself before and after I was 10 years old.


Just in case you forgot the things that YOU said to me…




I do not want any contact with you. I don’t know what this means in terms of family gatherings. I do not want you to touch me at all. I wrote this letter to you because I need to tell youhow much rage I have toward you, how much hatred, and the truth that you have never wanted to accept. I don’t care it you like it or not. This letter is the truth and reality of life in our family; whether you accept it or not. You will not take away anymore of my life…I am through with the world revoling around you. I am taking my life back and you will not win again. You already fucked up my life enough…got it bitch!!

(if you want to see a larger and more readable picture of the words above please go to the left side bar toward the end entitled, "Mommy Says.") I have also made some minor changes in the previous section, none of which are note worthy except for one at the beginning. The follow is what this letter will look like at the very beginning:


"A copy of this letter has been sent to everyone in the family because I want the family to know the truth. Like it or not this is the truth and others will finally know my pain and rage.

Susan,"

(Letter to Mother. This is only for my personal searchs as blogger does not search by tags, much to my dismay)

(Letter to mom. This is for search purposes only.)

1 comments:

Patricia Singleton said...

When my dad reached his 60's, several members of his family---brothers and sisters---wanted me to help him get on Social Security and other things. I wrote a "Dear Family Members" letter and mailed it to all 10 of them. First I mailed a copy of the letter to my brother and sister and read a copy of it to my mother. I also read it to my husband, son and daughter. The only person that I did not have read the letter was my grandmother who was in her 80's. I felt at her age that she didn't need to deal with it. Her health wasn't good.

The letter was about the incest and why I was not doing anything to help my dad or to have contact with him. One of my younger uncles and three of my aunts commented about the letter. The rest acted like I never wrote it.

Isaiah 49 :15 -16

Search This Blog