I started this entry on August 31. A few days after I left ‘home’. My mother was having open heart surgery, meaning I had to deal with the most manipulative person in the entire world (her son). Her son had distorted her reality to a point where she was already a shell. When she’s not around him, she thrives. She cooks, meets others, plays in her garden, she even laughs. She has the most beautiful laugh. When she spends time with her son, everything changes. Typically it takes 4 days for her to bounce back from dark days to normal love bug mom but this time it has been over 20 weeks. And the clock is still ticking. My heart is broken.
My heart hurts. It hurts for her. It hurts for me. It hurts for the entire situation. I love my mother with something fierce and since both my bio father and bio brother know they cannot hurt me directly, they continue to hurt me through her. On one hand, it’s a compliment to my healthy boundaries that they are unable to hurt me directly but also a sad situation they have control of how others view me. I surrender. It is what it is.
Again, I have healthy boundaries with both of them. They know I have ZERO problem showing screenshots or publishing their words in public domains. I feel confident sharing my journey because I spent years trying to address this dysfunction in private for nearly a decade. They think it’s acceptable to try and kill me. I think they are insane. They think it’s time I get over it and be grateful the trigger wasn’t pulled. I think they are insane. Perhaps since I’m the only one with an issue, then I am in fact the crazy one. Abuse has been normalised. Read that again, they think it’s OK for a father to try and kill his daughter because of failure to self-regulate his emotions. Thank you abuse for trying to break me. Internally, conditioning me to think I was unworthy and convincing me a very distorted definition of love. Ironically, to the outside world, I was the epitome of what society could label as the perfect daughter. I dedicated my life to my family. A very unhealthy dynamic.
In 2017, I set a boundary with my father. I was tired of his abusive emails and triads. I told him if he continued to use such language, I would simply forward ALL emails to lawyers & friends willing to share on social media. His emails stopped. Perhaps steep consequences. Very effective. When I’m done, I’m done. Taking this into consideration, I was raped earlier in the year (2018). Rather than my father contact me directly, he opted to berate my mother for 50+ hours on text message. Regardless of his intention, it was terrible execution. How can he possibly hurt a woman he was married to for 30+ years? It’s unacceptable behaviour. Apparently he was so upset, he also threatened to create a website to ‘teach me a lesson’ if I didn’t close my blog. Apparently I’m not allowed to share the what happens behind closed doors.
I hate I had to seek legal counsel to double check my rights. I hate I was born to a father who would rather spend time hurting others rather than spread love. I mostly hate how this isn’t even surprising behaviour to me. Heck, it’s been like this for as long as I can remember; it’s expected. Being numb to dysfunction is what bothered me the most. It is what it is.
Last exchange with my bio brother, he admitted to breaking into our mother’s email whilst she was having heart surgery. He thinks it’s normal to read emails of people when they are unconscious… and without permission. I know this is unethical and pretty sure it’s also illegal. Just for grins, he is unable to have a civil conversation with me. Rather than answer my questions or share relevant information on whether or not our mother made it out of surgery, he tried to bait me by questioning my competence of taking care of our mother’s dog. He has full control of our mother. (Anyone who wants to challenge the hold he has over her, I dare you to ask either of them how many miles between their houses and how often they see one another). It’s heartbreaking how he treats her.
Today, my heart hurts. It hurts because I can see. I understand. I do not agree. I understand. A bunch of broken people. Perhaps doing the best they can. Operating in the only way they know how. It’s clear as day. Two are straight up evil, one is not. My heart breaks for the brokenness. My heart breaks for me. My heart breaks I call these people family. This is NOT ok. I believe she is broken because they will not allow her to heal. When they mess with her, that’s when she saying things like, ‘Jess, your breathing is the problem.’ I know those words are not her. It’s them but to see her face and hear those words come from her mouth… It’s hard. Very heartbreaking to know she is their puppet. It hurts I cannot do a single thing about it. Absolutely nothing.
All I want is pick up the phone to say hello. I want to hear her voice. I want to hear her laugh. I want to reconnect with my person. Perhaps the tragedy is I consider her my person when I am not hers.
The fact I’m at this crossroad means I have not yet broken the cycle. Awareness before change. I’ll get there. I removed my bio brother and my bio father from my head, heart, and spiritual space. I’ve removed others as well. I’m good with setting spiritual boundaries that manifest into the physical world. It’s simply a matter of being ready to cut the chord. The hardest part is making the decision on when enough is enough.
Am I ready to cut this chord? Is my faith stronger than my fear? Faith she will pull herself out of the fog. Faith she will realise she is worthy of being loved.
I love my mother. I wish she remembered her worth. I wish she remembered she is a strong woman. Mostly, I wish she looked at the scrapbook of firsts. The only thing I have ever asked of her is to stop sharing information about me to people who have tried to kill me. (She refuses to respect this boundary. My father is emotionally unregulated. My brother has an unhealthy obsession with me – he constantly asks her for information about my life).
Who reads someone’s email when they are unconscious and having open heart surgery? Why do I even care? How much longer until I can let go of injustice? Why do I feel the need to protect her? I HATE unethical people. They drive me insane! Why does this bother me?
Serious question: At what point does broken become evil? Does it even matter?
Today I focus on loving myself. I can feel myself slipping. All I want to do is call my mother but instead, I sit in the quiet. I breathe. I observe. I will later seek console with a kindred soul who has already broken free from their cycle. One who can shed light on my path… and be a sounding board of reason. I know I have all the answers within but my head and my heart are at war. When this happens, my heart usually wins.
I cannot afford a side step. I didn’t cause it. I cannot control it. I cannot cure it.
Experience. Strength. Hope.