Kimberly
Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Please let me die before I wake. I pray the Lord my soul to take.
I prayed that every night. EVERY night. And every morning I would wake up and I just knew that God hated me. He had to. Why would he allow me to survive the night just so that I could go on being miserable, abused and lonely?
Most of the physical abuse has been forgotten, blocked out for my own sanity. I do remember the rage. I remember seeing such hatred as that belt would come down on me. Or the hand. Or the brass rod. Or the sticks, pans, shoes, laundry basket. Whatever she could get her hands on. Most of the physical abuse is remembered by my brother. My near broken nose at age five, the stepping on his neck to kill him at 10, the time the neighbors had to pull her off of me when I was two (and NO the fuckin’ neighbors did shit to help). Her attempted suicides.
It’s the mental abuse, that emotional mind fuck that I endured that has been seared into my memory. The “I wish you were dead” or the “I should kill myself for having a daughter like you.” All the you’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re fat, you’re worthless, your nothing… that is what I remember.
I didn’t dream of being a princess, or a teacher, or a nurse. I dreamed of being an adult, living on my own, far, far away from her. I dreamed of death. Oh how I wanted to die. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted it all to be over. I would cry myself to sleep begging God to have mercy on me and just kill me. Take me away. It obviously did not happen. As I’m still here.
How do I still have room in my heart to love her? How is it that I can forgive her for all the wrongs? How is it that I still wish and pray for her approval? How does a human mind survive??
I don’t have kids because of her. I’m too afraid of becoming the monster she was when I was growing up. I’m too afraid that the monster lives inside of me. And to keep it hidden and in slumber I refuse to have kids. I will love my nieces and nephews but I will never know what it is to love my own children. I’m too scared.
My brother is sober now and I’m not in therapy as I should be. But we survived because of each other and in spite of her.
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Kimberly blogs at For the Love of Twinkies.
37 Responses to “Kimberly”
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I lived a childhood much like yours, and want to extend my support-but you don’t have to continue to be miserable and to withhold yourself from love and joy and LIVING because if this. Get back in therapy, find a support group, and stop letting her win. I will think of you.
Writing on this site about the abuse in your past is a HUGE step in the right direction. You are wise to see the connection between your weight and the events of your childhood. You are wise to see that you need to deal with the events of your past in order to make your present a healthy and productive life. Please do consider returning to therapy. It helps.
I wanted to let you know that I have heard you, that you do matter in this world, and that despite everything you have endured you are worthy of love.
I’m glad you are alive. Thanks for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing your story – and I hope that some day you do have children…to give them unconditional love. The love you never had. Peace to you.
Thank you for speaking out, for giving voice to whispered agony. You deserve only to be cherished, to be cared for, to be infinitely loved. May all that is good come to you with butterfly wings, softly- and bring peace.
I felt so strongly as I was reading this that I needed to tell you one little thing. Then I clicked ‘comment’ and there was an error. Twice. It’s been my experience in the past that the messages that *really* super-duper count are subject to some opposition before they are given to those they are intended for.
All that being said, listen:
You have a purpose. An IMPORTANT one. One that is divine and exact. Don’t give up….God has not forgotten you, and He has heard every last word that has slipped past your lips. He knows the cries of your heart, Kimmy. He knows and remembers and cherishes you.
Just as He has wept with you, He will rejoice with you. He sings over you every. single. day.
You are not your mother. You are you, with the capacity to love and to nurture and to break the cycle of violence you survived.
You are already nurturing yourself. That’s the most important place to start.
Thank you for sharing your story.
I am so very sorry. Your mother is the one that is supposed to love you unconditionally. She is supposed to protect you and never hurt you. It is not your fault. Thank you for sharing.
It’s said God always answers prayers, it’s just that sometimes He says “no”. And I for one am glad he chose to answer your prayers that way. Because had He not, you would not be here. You would not be here to witness the love that’s there for you, that waits patiently for you to be able to accept it. You wold not be here to give the love that I know you’re capable of giving, the love that also waits patiently for you to be able to give it.
How do I know you have this capacity? Because in spite of all, you still manage to hold a place in your heart for the one who tortured you. You don’t understand why. But that kind of love, the kind that’s even there for the unlovable, it’s the purest form of love there is. It’s the kind that a mother or father should have for a child.
The fact that you have the capacity for this kind of love tells me that in spite of — or perhaps even because of — your own past, you would not become the monster you fear you would. If you chose to change your mind about never having children, I have every confidence that those children would be loved, unconditionally, and cherished as the treasures they are. You may choose to never have children of your own, and you may do that for any number of valid reasons. But the fear that you say holds you back should not be among those reasons.
You are good. You are worthy. And you are loved. Look around you, you’ll see it. Look within you and you’ll see it there too. I’m not trying to convince you to change your mind. I’m simply pointing out what you already know.
Your fears are unfounded.
You have already broken the cycle of abuse.
Much love to you.
I’m so sorry that you and your brother had to endure so much and you had no one to protect you. The most important thing though is that you survived. I don’t know how you have the capacity to forgive but find it admirable that you do. And the fact that your fear that you could be her is proof that you aren’t – and couldn’t be. (If you were, you just wouldn’t care and wouldn’t be the least bit cognizant of it.) Your mother took so much from you, don’t let her take anything else. If you genuinely don’t want children (not everyone does and that’s fine) just don’t let her be your reason.
I hope you can find peace and happiness. You deserve both in abundance.
I mourn for the loss of your childhood. I am sorry you never knew the loving hands and heart of a mother. My prayer for you is that you find some woman who shows you the love of a mother. I send you peace and healing.
Continue to be strong and to find comfort in the love you and your brother share.
K~
Although mine was my stepdad and not my mom, she allowed it to happen. I understand, and offer a hug as a survivor as well. I don’t want kids for the same reasons. I used to pray every night that something, someone, anyone would save me from the hell. I don’t hate my mom anymore (although the stepdad could die and I wouldn’t even flinch).
You survived, and it’s what God’s plan was all along.
~S
I am so glad you’re alive..and thriving.
I too, survived abuse from– both my parents– and have gone through much the same mental torment you describe.
I went on to have children and poured myself into them. They are grown now and were the best thing in my life.
Now, I’m back to dealing with past issues. Midlife seems to do that to you. I am learning to look at foods and herbs as “nourishing” instead of “eat this not that” attitude. The herbal infusions have been very helpful to me. We didn’t have anybody to “nourish” us as children, so we have to do it for ourselves now. I drink oatstraw infusion daily to help repair the nerves that the stress damaged. I am gaining strength every day, by focusing on “nourishing” myself with nourishing foods.
I admire you for writing about what you went through. Only those who have been through it can really understand what you are saying, and your words will reach others so they can keep on keeping on each day.
You are more than welcome to write me.
i am so glad your alive to share this, using your voice to hopefully stop that one mother/father, even if it is just one. thank you for sharing your words, your life. that in itself can be therapeutic. i urge you to keep making baby steps until you reach the therapists door. much love and hugs to you!
Thank-you for having the courage to share your story.
My heart goes out to you and your brother so that you many continue your healing process.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are worthy of love.
Talking is a big step. Therapy can be very helpful. I wish you the best in continuing to overcome the failings of your parents.
Hugs offered.
My heart aches for you…my heart aches that you think the evil that resides in your mother the monster as you say…could be within you, it’s within her, not you.
Thank you for sharing, your strength in doing so will help so many!
I’m sorry this happened to you and I am sorry no one intervened. You did not deserve this kind of childhood, and I’m glad you made it through.
Do you read Karen Sugarpants? She survived a crazy abusive mom to become a great mother herself. She’s one of the coolest people on the internet. Check her out if you haven’t already.
Hi. I’m you. My brother and I survived horrific abuse and both have children of our own now. I have two sons, he has a daughter. We will never walk the path our mother did. We will never strike or demean our children. This I know.
My story is in the sidebar of my blog. If you come by, I hope it helps you heal the little girl inside you. You are not alone.
Kimberly, thank you for sharing your story here.
My hope for you is that one day you will come to know that there is no monster inside of you. Whether or not you choose to have children is your own personal choice, but you are a woman of light, not darkness, and you can carry that knowledge within you no matter what.
I wish you and your brother continued comfort in one another. Peace.
Kimberly, I’m a year older than you. You are a messenger of truth. Thank you for expressing yourself here. Even though I have very few friends in my life, I feel a sense of belonging in this survivor’s community.
I’m praying for your continued healing. You’re on the right path. Bless you for sharing your story.
What you described shouldn’t happen. I’m so glad you and your brother survived and had/have each other to lean on. Thank you for telling your story here. I hope it helped you to have written it, like it’s sure to help many, many others reading it. Thank you.
You are “someone”, and worthy of love – never forget that. Thank you for sharing your story – my prays are with you.
No one should have to endure what you have gone through. You are brave and I am happy that you have survived. Telling your story is important and I hope you know that all of us that listen care. I hope you’ll get therapy and continue your healing. You will be in my prayers.
I have so many things going through my head and I don’t know what to say. My brother does not want kids for this same reason. In some ways, it makes me sad, because I think he would be a great dad, but in other ways … I understand. Those are tough demons to face.
Just know that if you do decide to become a parent, you WILL makes mistakes. But they don’t have to be your mother’s.
Sending love to you.
Thank you for sharing your story. Know that you are a great person who deserves to be loved. Hold it there.
“I didn’t dream of being a princess, or a teacher, or a nurse. I dreamed of being an adult, living on my own, far, far away from her.”
It’s comforting, at least, to not be the only one who had these dreams.
You are very brave for putting yourself out here and telling your story. Hopefully, it will help you. There are people out here who care.
Thank you for having the courage to survive and to share your story.
I was lucky. My mom rarely hit me. Except for excessive, painful spanking. But my earliest memories are of her telling me she hated me. That she wanted me to go run into the street and die. That she wished she had died in childbirth, or better, that I had just been miscarried. I was ugly. I was stupid. She’s been dead for 5 years, and you’re right. Those words still hurt.
But I still loved her.
Thank you for telling your story.
thank you for sharing. i am so sorry for what you went through.
I have lived, in fact, AM living, a childhood just like yours. I’m sixteen and I have an abusive mother.
I’ve read dozens of these stories and chose to comment on yours because of the number of times I’ve sworn to myself never to have children, in case I turn out just like her.
I feel every bit of your pain, and your story gives me some sort of hope, that some day I may be a survivor, not just a victim.
I have lived, in fact, AM living, a childhood just like yours. I’m sixteen and I have an abusive mother. She used to beat me regularly, until two years or so ago. Now, it’s just the emotional abuse.
“you’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re fat, you’re worthless, you’re nothing” – it’s like your words echo hers. Just five minutes ago she walked out of my room telling me shoe couldn’t bear to see her own daughter let herself look the way I do.
I’ve read dozens of these stories and chose to comment on yours because of the number of times I’ve sworn to myself never to have children, in case I turn out just like her.
I feel every bit of your pain, and your story gives me some sort of hope, that some day I may be a survivor, not just a victim.
Trillian~I’m so sorry that your life mirrors my childhood. I so wish it didn’t. I just want to give you hug and tell you that everything will be ok. And it will. I promise. You are stronger than you know and you have to keep tapping into that strength. And that strenght is never-ending. I know. Just remember that nothing, I MEAN NOTHING, your Mom tells you is what or who you are. It took me a long, long time to realize that.
You are beautiful, strong, honest and brave. And you would make any sane, loving woman proud to be your mother.
And kids, they scare me. Absolutely terrify me. Because of what I know and what I know that I’ve buried deep within. And I wish it didn’t. Because I would have loved to love a child and not worry about unearthing that beast.
Please, please hang in there. Become the person you were meant to be not the person your Mom is trying to turn you in to.
Keep in touch and let me know how you are.
And you already are a survivor. You found your way here.
((((((Trillian)))))) lots and lots of hugs!!!