January 14, 2006
Mothers Game
The beatings and the sadistic comments became so regular that i was not safe anywhere but at school and in direct ear shot of my birth mother's friends and family. She played the perfect parent to them. It became a game and I soon learned to use it to my advantage. As long as one of them was near, I was safe. Whenever a social worker came to the house I would ask to play with one of my toys that had been locked away. I knew that once they left it would be locked away again but, my birth mother didn't dare say no to me while someone was there. It would ruin the perfect mother image she protrayed while she was being watched.
She didn't always win in her games of trying to punish me. Sometimes after being ordered to stand in the corner after nearly having my arms torn from their sockets or being chocked, or thrashed, i would strain my ears to listen to the sounds in her bedroom. I would listen for the sound of her favorite tv show, 911 and then creep very quietly over to the dog's water bowl. I moved so quietly i didnt even dare to breath for fear she could hear my breathing. I knelt down next to the bowl or water and began to lap it up eagerly. I always made sure not to drink enough to make the soda bottle that was attatched to the bowl upside down, refill the water dish. As soon as i was done drinking water I tiptoed as quietly as I could back to my corner and stood there. My birth mom still came out every commercial to tell me what a bad child I was and to smash my head in between the cupboard doors. In a small way though I had won. I had gotten a drink and she didn't even know it.
One of my birth mother's favorite games was to send my sister into my room to search it. She would then come out with a pencil, a piece of paper, or anything that she could find and show it to my birth mother. I was then ordered over to my birth mother and the item was either shoved into my face or i was ordered to look at the items and explain why I had them. There was no reason I could give that would satisfy her. It did not matter if the items were given to me. I had stolen them and was a bad girl that needed to be punished. Most of the time the game ended in her reaching a hand out to pinch one of my ears as hard as she could with her nails while pulling on it threatening to rip my ears off for not listening. That lasted only for a few seconds and she quickly moved on to my throat. Wrapping one hand around my throat and trying to strangle me. I was maneuvered over to the bed and squirmed the best I could until her grip on my neck was loosened and I gasped for air. One of my arms was twisted and pulled up behind my back until it was on the verge of ripping out of its socket and i was beat. I learned to wear sweaters and pants to hide the bruises. My birth mother was alway careful not to leave marks anywhere that were too noticeable or that she couldn't explain away with some excuse she invented.
Posted by Heavensdaughter on January 14, 2006 11:12 AM
Comments
Hey there sweet gal!
I've been away caring for my mom since her heart bypass operation in July.
I've missed Y'all.
I'm sorry your birth mother was so cruel. You are strong, all of you together, for getting through all that.
Makes me want to scoop you up and hug you and tell you that you are loveable and safe.
More later my friend,
Judy in AZ
Posted by: Judy at January 16, 2006 03:59 AM
I happened on this site by accident, I was looking up my recent medications that my therapist has put me on when I ran across this site. I went through and read all your entries.
One of the things that I have noticed is that you say you don't know what love is and then you describe your daughter and your feelings towards her....honey, that is TRUE love right there, what you feel for her is truely love in no other word. If you want to know what love is, remember that feeling.
Have you had any more luck getting in to see your therapist lately?
You sound like such an interesting person.
I hope for all the luck in the world to you as you progress through your therapy.
Debbie
Posted by: Debbie at June 4, 2006 02:42 PM