Yesterday, I did what I had sworn, or parts or myself at least, that I would never, ever do. For my own protection and for my mother’s sake.
I can’t say it out loud but I can write it. I told her that I was sexually abused by my father. We have had major fights over the past several months, and last night, it got to the point where I just said, you know what, I don’t care. And that’s exactly what I did say. I got home from work and went downstairs to my mother’s “apartment” to ask her if we needed to straighten anything else out. She just turned her back and told me to read my email.
In my previous email to her, I told her that I had a right to be angry, and in her response, she said that if I find fault in everything she does, then of course I will think I have the right to be angry.
After I read that, I went downstairs and just said, “I’ve never told you this just because I wanted to keep from feeling guilty about dad. But I just don’t give a shit anymore.” All I could say was that the abuse was more than verbal. She asked if it was sexual and I said yes.
Point #1 that hurt me to the core: it mattered to her whether or not he completely “raped” me or not. That word makes me so squeamish… And for some reason I associate it with more “grown up” people. But I nodded.
Point #2 that hurt me to the core: she immediately admitted that she found him having sex with another woman in my room, with me in it, when I was two years old. She said she kicked him out, but she obviously let him back in and remained oblivious for years.
I should cut her some slack. And I’m trying to. But I am a complete and utter mess. And then I got into a car accident today, first ever, at my own fault.
I don’t know what to think but the pain of having her know is not relieving. It is suffocating.