Looking for ongoing patterns of abuse in my life

I am looking for memories and trying to see through decades of lies that I was told and I happily accepted and lived them!! But everytime…something in me used to snap and i would shout and scream and exhibit my frustration with anger. I couldn’t find words.

Did anyone know that I felt so shitty about myself everytime I lost my temper. (He knew.)  And then owned it as my fault or a defect I have, so I fall into the mentally fucked category and everything depended on my continuing to pop my pills and live like I am fine!

To the extent that, my kids dont believe that I am sick. I just have a unpredictable temper and get into people’s faces if there is injustice. For example, kids and me crossing a busy street and this car guy kept honking for the traffic in general to move. Yes its allowed in a third world country. My kids and i jump with fright and they put hands on their ears and little ones crying by now. I had already signaled the honking driver to wait. He didnt. So I had to walk up and tell him to his face with a passion i felt….intolerance for inhumannes. To me, the anguish and pain that I feel in that moment, in a split second, the feelings of my kids and helpless bystanders. And i react by shouting at the honker…calling him out, telling this is not acceptable. Where my kids are concerned or any stranger who is suffering….I will jump in to protect and shout. But I never ever knew how to stand up for myself, I didnt know that I deserved better. “Nobody will have you, you are lucky we have taken you in”. And I worked harder to pay for my shelter and food and kids until I couldn’t….but no man gets left behind, this is my family, my father was loyal and I k ow I am loyal.

Even when I was dying giving birth to my kid, I did not ask for help. I felt grateful that there was family just standing around me, looking at me like I was dead already. Nobody held my hand, they spoke in whiskers about my vagina and complications. They did not speak to me like I was a fucking puppet. I could not hold the baby for 10 days, I was so sick that the kid could catch whatever I had,  they said.

Today I Remember and I remember clearly that one day in ICU…I asked my husband to bring the baby …my first born to the doorway in her rolling crib, so I can speak to her, lying in bed. I wasn’t going to touch her. She and I had fought for our lives for 36 hours of labor. I wouldn’t make her sick. I just wanted to see if she remembers me, and I wanted to connect with her and tell her that i am not going to die and i am not going to let her die. (He knew how I felt so  connected with her, he knew because I told him all my wonders and fears.)

But I felt like I am on mercy of this family surrounding me. I am crying as I remember that day….I felt so frustrated and so suicidal and so dependent….like nobody can see me…

I started requesting him at 8am in the morning….to bring the baby. he kept making excuses, or would disappear for cigarette breaks because of all the stress I was causing…..his parents watching every movement of mine to report to their son.

“she is sleeping, she is okay, stop worrying; i have to meet with the doctors to figure what’s wrong with you, wait till 1pm…”

I waited and asked again….

I was told I was just getting emotional and it was making my pain increase…I should try and sleep and gave me some more morphine.

I woke up and again asked to see my baby….this time I started to beg and cry…I was helpless and dependent on him..

6pm they rolled her at the doorway…I called out hi baby and she turned her head towards my sound….she knew who I was. Somebody knew who I was.

That moment I wanted to live to hold her….

And that’s when I became a mother who was very fierce about her kids. We fought to remain alive, fought for some form of mercy from some kind of new rule or plan that was imposed on us…..”this is what will happen, this is what you will do, otherwise all this luxury goes away, kids go away… your life goes away. ” No consideration for our safety, health and integrity respect and happiness….

Strange thing….this reaction or anger of mine just disappears when I am in a first world country. Why?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s