Oh Mother ~ Mother also suffered severe child abuse... (her abuses at the hands of both her parents)

Posted ~ 16 September 2015 ~ pm ~

“My mother was not a real monster”... although it seemed to us children at times that she was.  She was also severely abused as a child.  Beaten to a pulp regularly by her own mother... sexually abused by her father... in and out of children's homes, foster homes and hospitals... no real stability... started having grand mal seizures at the age of 12 and stopped going to school around then. 

Mommy Wasn’t a Real Monster
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za

Mommy wasn’t a real monster
Although sometimes
I thought she might be
When quite suddenly
And least expected
She attack me
Like a wild animal
Let loose from its’ cage
With her face so distorted
So ugly
In a twisted snarling rage
She’d move so fast
With a screeching growl
Descending upon me
In a furious attack
Her eyes glowing red

...My world spinning
Everything black...

But no... I see more clearly now...
Mommy wasn’t a real monster
Deep-deep down inside
In a place where she got stuck
The day her own sweet innocence died

(14 September 2015)

During my therapy journey, I began to understand for the first time in my life, how it was possible for mother to have become the way she was.  I could see how easily I could have gone over the edge too if I didn’t have the support system, values and beliefs that had come with me from my visits to my Greek family (and a rare few others) when I was a child.  My own dear father with his gentle, loving nature... my beloved Greek (step) mother... my greatest mentor... I always wanted to grow up to be just like her.  Just the other day, a stranger (to me) told me I looked like her... it’s the second time I’ve been told that... made my day! 

I realised in therapy as we worked on discovering who my strongest support systems were in my past, that I had never been abandoned, even though it seemed so often that I was completely alone and lost in this world.  My little sister, 11 months younger than me, my other brothers and sisters and my Greek family were always my greatest motivation to survive and grow up to be a good person.  Through all the years of my living very much in my “child personality”, I literally idolised them all... they were my fantasy of perfection and HOPE... my dream of the perfect holidays and spending family Christmas’ together.  My Greek family represented “the ideal” family to me and they taught me the way “family life was supposed to be”.

It’s so sad to “grow up” sometimes... but change happens... people drift apart... nothing stays the same forever—I wish some things never changed, ever!  I relied on my magical childhood dreams for so long and I think still need them, but it seems that childhood dreams are often just an illusion.  Real life is a “reality check”... it’s hard to find the magic still here in my adult world... HUMPH!

I have so much to be grateful for though, because I was spared the bitterness-struggles that mother has endured all her life as a result of her “broken childhood”.  She has burned so many bridges... even mine and it’s gone forever now.  I have finally been able to let go of my lifelong dream for my own mother’s love and I have never felt freer than I do now in my 50’s.  The greatest longing and agony of my life no longer exists in me... for her.  In therapy, I was taught how to nurture my own inner-child (Patty)... to re-parent her.  This has changed my whole life for the better. 

Mother rejected me for the last time on Mother’s Day 2013 when I tried so hard to be in contact with her again.  Her words of rejection cut like a knife for the last time and that day I was set free at last.  I no longer miss her... I no longer dream of her loving me someday... I have finally accepted the reality of my situation... another nightmare over at last.

PART 1
BURNING BRIDGES!
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She can’t have many bridges left over the rivers of her life,
She’s burnt so many already on her journeys of wasted strife!
She’s burnt so many friendship bridges and the ashes she just blew away,
And never looked back on a single one, or regretted each bridge burning day!
Most family bridges she set alight in a moment of angry hate,
And the day she wished she hadn’t, it was already far too late!
Yet still she’s burning her bridges and the flames are hot and high,
For she doesn’t know how to stop herself, her tongue’s the lighters fire!
Her bridges are smoldering everywhere and soon they’ll all burn away!
What will she do when she has none left?  How sad will be her day?

(3 February 2002 – Oh mother)

PART 2
BURNING GAMES!
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za

There is a bridge with my name on it, and she’s burnt it many times!
But I keep on blowing the raging flames out and rebuilding the bridge that’s mine!
Yet no matter how much I try to fix it with my determined love,
She keeps on setting it alight again; ugly smoke billowing high above!
I’ve burnt and scorched my longing heart trying to put out the flames!
Someday ‘our’ bridge might vanish, to satisfy her Burning Games!

(3 February 2002 - For my mother with everlasting love)

(Mother's Day 2013 ~ She finally succeeded)