Wednesday 14 July 2010

Please Remove The Batteries

I need to be asleep right now. Obviously I am not or I wouldn't be writing this. Tomorrow is going to be a pivotal day for me and although I'm not really all that worried about what's going to happen I suppose that it's natural to be apprehensive.

I'm not a fan of hospitals, being a patient is slightly preferable to being a visitor because at least that way I can pretend to be asleep so I get left alone. I have to go to hospital tomorrow (today) for a test to be carried out. It's my 2nd attempt to get this procedure done, the first attempt was a disaster.

I'm not scared of the test, the drugs I'll need to have, the results or even the potential treatments if things are not as they should be. No, none of that worries me. I suppose I have a slightly Kamikaze approach to life which probably stems from not really caring about what happens to me. I had major surgery a couple of years ago and I just didn't care.

The thing keeping me awake right now is other people.

Four friends said that they would see/speak to me today (yesterday) in anticipation of this investigation getting done. One came to see me, one called me up, two essentially told me to ^")£!! off. I can't be bothered with that kind of crap, if you say you'll do something then do it and if you say you're going to but have no intention of doing so then don't pretend.

There's a FaceBook group called; "Oh I'm Sorry, I Forgot. I Only Exist To You When You Need Something From Me" and that pretty much sums up 99% of the relationships that I have with people. They contact me when they want someone to listen, need to 'borrow' money, think I could offer them some sort of help/advice.....then vanish like a burst bubble when they've got what they want for the time being. Meanwhile, I am basically left with no-one.

Now, I know that sounds incredibly self-centred and 'woe is me' or even attention seeky. It is, however, a statement of fact.

Part of the problem is that I hate bothering people with my stuff, I'd far rather listen than talk. I get bored of listening to myself inside my own head so why would I inflict that on someone else? So I withdraw, shut myself away and generally try to disappear. Then I get told not to do that and I should be reaching out for support. I can't win.

Truth is, I hate being me. I've always known, from being a tiny child, that I am worth nothing. One parent validated me, loved me, cared for me. The other abused me, hated me, tortured me. I am not what one of my parents wanted. No matter what I did, how much I achieved or how hard I tried to please, it was never going to be enough.

The evening before I had my major surgery the parent in question came to my bedside (i had specifically said no visitors). I don't know how they knew where I was, which hospital, what ward I was in...they stood there at the foot of my bed and said; "I only came for myself, I never came for you. What would people think if I hadn't come to see you and you die." Just before they walked in I had got a message saying they were on their way. I was hooked up to a machine to measure my BP, Sats and stuff. It went totally crazy when I heard this parent was coming. Classic fear response, I was experiencing the whole fight/flight thing.

My other parent did as I asked and stayed at home. We talked by phone and it was very calm and loving conversation.



If you're reading this I wonder what you're thinking. You might be thinking that I'm an ungrateful brat who should appreciate what they've got. You might be wondering why one of my parents detested me so much. You probably have a belief in your mind about which parent it was who rejected and abused me. You might consider that my physical reaction to the news of the imminent arrival of a parent was extreme and that I faked it. I wish I knew what you are thinking.




So, I'll tell you the answers and let you make your own mind up.

People often say that I'm too grateful. That I thank them when it's not needed.

My parent didn't want me because I was a totally ordinary child. They were hoping that I would be born with Regular Trisomy 21. The disappointment that I was completely healthy meant that they rejected me on the spot. No attachment was ever formed. They wanted a child who would gain them special attention, praise for being so caring, lots of medical appointments and other professional involvement. Like my surgery; "I only wanted you for me, what would people think if I never looked after my child with that condition." Is what I imagine would have been thought if never said.

If you're thinking that it was Dad who rejected and abused me, you're wrong. He was both parents to me, did all the caring/bathing/reading bedtime stories/playing with me in parks/taking me on walks etc etc etc. The other one just lived in the same house as us and made our lives a miserable living hell. To the outside world she was kind and a true Christian lady. Behind closed doors she was a manipulative figure of terror. She wanted a child with Down's Syndrome so that I would be always under her control, no threat to her either intellectually or socially. She wanted the attention that parents of special children get. Then she ended up with me.

I never faked the reaction that I had to the news that she was going to be arriving at my hospital bedside. The machine had been happily measuring my vital signs for the entire afternoon and never particularly showed anything other than normal levels. It only went off on one the moment I was told she was coming. I wouldn't know how to fake that, surely you can't deliberately make a machine like that respond in a certain way?



I wish I knew what you are thinking now.

3 comments:

  1. What am I thinking? I'm not really sure, on one hand, I am empathising completely with you. I know of several people who have had very difficult relationships with their Mother's, men and women. I have seen the fear and distress that conversations with them, or any unwanted contact with them brings. I have witnessed how irrational it can appear to those who do not spend long enough looking beyond that initial reaction & see how genuine those emotions are and how deep the damage goes. I also know some children who are experiencing the same problems as they grow. I watch, frustrated, deeply saddened at how their mother's treatment of them wounds them deeply. I have seen, the emotional damage it is causing, the lying to protect themselves, the over eating, or food refusal to have some control over their young lives.

    There is no sane reason for these women's behaviour to their children. But, having studied and worked with young children for over 20 years, I know one thing with absolute certainty. The blame is with the parent. Each and every child bears no blame in any way. This means you too Jupiter, you are not to blame for your Mother's wicked treatment of you. She never deserved to have a child, loving and full of awe and wonder, she did not deserve the unconditional love you must have felt for her as a young child.

    I hope that the children I know now, grow up with their father, who loves them so deeply, to be happy and emotionally secure children. Some of the adults I know have coped better as they have grown up to have their own families.

    I hope, Jupiter, that you can lean into your Father, take the love that he obviously has for you, and turn away from the hurt that your Mother clearly has heaped on you.

    You are deserving of leading a happy life, you are not at fault.

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  2. Thank you Mrs RRD, I can't get past thinking that my mother's treatment of me was my own doing. I was never good enough, always let her down and showed her up. When she would scream/shout I'd ignore her and when she battered me senseless I still didn't react. Maybe if I'd shown some sort of reaction she wouldn't have done it again.

    The first time she hit me I was approx' 5mths old. That was because my first teeth were coming in and I accidentally nipped her when I was getting breastfed. So she shouted then slapped me. According to someone who was there I never accepted the breast again. I guess it was downhill from then on. I shouldn't have rejected her like that.

    I don't really lean on Dad much, he's old and has health issues of his own. Not to mention the fact that she still lives in his house and is vindictive and violent towards him still. I tried to get him help from the Help the Aged charity but they said they only deal with male to female domestic abuse. Also during that phonecall I got told that if mother wanted to report Dad for abusing her then she'd get all the help/support she needs. They just didn't listen.

    It's all my fault. If I hadn't been born then none of this would be happening. She only stayed with Dad because of me. She only stays now because she lives off him like a leech. She doesn't contribute a single penny to the household. Some deal she's got going on there.

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  3. Jupiter,

    As a child, one is NEVER responsible for the actions of one's parents.

    It is no surprise that you are still affected by what your mother did to you all those years ago. An adult is always to blame for any abuse metered out to children. Children are always innocent of any guilt in these matters. It is a parent's duty to care for the child.

    It was not your "fault" you were born. That was down to your parent's, it was their choice. At 5 months old you had no alternative but to reject the object that caused you pain. It is a self defence mechanism, a survival instinct. You did not choose to reject her she chose to abuse you.

    Please understand, I am not saying this just to be kind to you, but as a result of studying child development and child psychology. It is fact.


    As far as your Dad, I am so sorry that he too suffers at her hand. There are help groups related to domestic violence for men. Try: www.mankind.org.uk or specifically for older people. www.elderabuse.org.uk

    As for you, I know you have tried looking for help before, have you tried http://www.victimsupport.org.uk/ ? They offer free help and advice for anyone who has suffered abuse, both physical and psychological.

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