Groups > Depression

Would you all be interested in a "toxic parents" support group here on TBD?

I think a Toxic Parents support group is a good idea, Mariposa. I think there are far more people who share our issues and concerns but do not know how or where to express themselves. Maybe a particular forum is the answer.

This story/poem or whatever, has been posted elsewhere on TBD, but thought I would share it here.

Wounds and scars, why so many?

I try as hard as possible to not poke at the wounds, or pick a the scabs of my childhood. But sometimes, those scabs got ripped off without me ever touching them.

It happened today as I walked through the neighborhood park. I saw this little boy, couldn’t be more than five or six. I had come along too late to know what the little guy had done. His Daddy was obviously drunk. Spit was flying as he screamed “You little shit!! Didn’t I tell you never do that again?”

Well the scabs got ripped off and the wounds began to bleed. And there was my own child hood all over. But why should I have wounds and scars in the first place?

Maybe because I never once remember being held or cuddled. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, it’s probably just my bad memory.

I doubt it was because I had moved 5 times by the time I was 5, living in a shack. Three rooms, using two, cause the roof was on the floor of the third. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, didn’t I say we had a roof over two rooms.

It couldn’t be because I was standing between my parents trying to push them apart as they fought. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, they were hitting each other, not me.

Might it be the divorce from the crazy man that fathered me. Well only crazy if you consider getting drunk, taking off a boot and knocking out every light bulb in the place. Or kicking my pregnant Mother in the stomach so that my sister had to have her guts put back in as soon as she was born. No that shouldn’t leave a scar, we were good to be rid of him.

I can’t imagine it was the stress of eight more moves between 5 and 11. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, lots of kids have stress.

Inconceivable it was from the baby sitters sister, who happened to be a total stranger, standing over me with a belt and saying, you will tie those shoes. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, all little kids have to learn to tie their own shoes.

Can it be from the isolation brought on by going to five different grade schools. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, I just have a difficult time making friends.

It’s not likely it was my mom’s second marriage that lasted six months. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar. 6 months isn’t long enough to leave a scar.

Probably not an innocent question when I was 8, and my Mothers response was “If I thought you would grow up to be like your Father, I would just go ahead and kill you now!" No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, we all know he was a bastard.

It could not possibly be the third marriage, when I was 11. Hell, I was finally like everyone else, I had a guy I could call Dad. Of course then I didn’t know how sick he was, touching my sister, and my little brother too. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, he never touched me, only asked to look at my penis.

Presumably it’s not my uncaring Mother that raised an emotional cripple. No that shouldn’t leave a scar, it’s impossible to scar someone without emotions isn’t it?

It has to be true, you can’t scar someone with no emotions. Hadn’t that been the lesson of my entire life. With this thought in mind, I pulled the collar on my coat up as far as I could, and just walked away. But as I walked away, I felt another scab forming on my heart.

Wounds on top of wounds, scars on top of scars, why so many?

We can call the group, "Toxic Mothers Anonymous."

My mom tried to raise 5 kids on her own, but she couldn't. We were stairsteps (each 1 year apart). I was the oldest daughter and middle child, and was very responsible & tender-hearted. My dad was away most of the time in civil service as quality control officer for the Titan I & II missiles. They divorced when I was 12, and my mom had a nervous breakdown, was brought home by neighbors or ambulance for grand mal seizures due to epilepsy, almost weekly, for years. She also had gangrene of her foot for a long time.

As oldest daughter, I was expected to cook, clean, get all of the other kids off to school and help them with their homework. My mom never sat down & talked with me about the situation. She just let everything go & expected me to pick up the slack.

My brothers got into trouble at school & with the police (minor, stupid stuff), and my younger sister ran away from home & was raped. I was sexually molested by my godfather, but mom & I decided "not to tell" because we didn't want to hurt her best friend, my godmother. It was always the family secret.

Anyway, as we became adults, I found out from my mom that she blamed me for my brothers & my sister's problems. She actually told me that I didn't raise them right. Imagine that! I was never told it was my responsibility, but I did the best I could. I was even told by the school counselor that because I came from a poor family and divorced family, to not expect anymore out of my life. I seemed to be surrounded by idiots!!

I married at the age of 19 to a wonderful guy, and we've been married since, 33 years later. He saw early on that my mom used emotional blackmail on me frequently. "Judi, if you don't help me . . . .I won't write you into my will." or "I'm your mother and I can't understand why you don't respect me". blah blah blah

My husband told me to nip this thing I had with my mom in the bud. He said to tell her that he said if she tried to blackmail me one more time, blamed me for past mistakes, or hung up on me, that she would never see her daughter again!!

Mom wasn't use to being around men who stood up to her, and that was a turning point in our relationship. She respected my husband after that, and actually became a bit scared of him (smile). We still have issues, but I set boundaries and guidelines for our relationship. When she makes moves to change those, I have become strong enough to gently tell her that her behavior was not acceptable and that I would not talk with her until she straightened up.

I forgave her a long time ago, understanding that 5 kids in 5 years with little physical support from my dad, being as young as she was, and having been moved from Ohio to Texas with 4 kids & one on the way, was just too much for her. She did the best she could with few coping skills and none of her family available to help her. We still have issues, but I have come to love the good things she taught me.

Lastly, I know God placed me in my family, with those mom & dad, for a reason. I am a much better nurse, friend, and person as a result of what I went through. I understand human suffering, frustration, anger & loss of control. I cried out one day for someone, anyone to help me when I was 17, and if there was a God, for Him to show Himself to me. He did . . . and that's a whole different story.

Bubb and Judi, very touching.

Aren't you glad that we are not defined by what our parents might think of us? Sometimes we forget that. Sometimes our parents think they need to control us and the best way to control children is to destroy their spirit so that they don't feel strong enough to do anything without getting mommy's--or daddy's--permission. You are not defined by what your parents say about you. You are defined by what YOU do. And, if you will allow it, you are defined by what God says about you and he says: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and WONDERFULLY made."--Psalms 139:13, 14.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."--Jeremiah 29:11.

It sounds like you have a wonderful family with a loving husband and precious daughter. Bask in their love and when your mom starts in, just say, "Mom, I love you but when you speak that way it hurts me and I don't have to let any one hurt me. My husband and children love me as I am; if you can't then that's something YOU need to work on, not me.

I could just cry!!! I mean, cry there is someone out here going through exactly what I am going through. my mother is staying with me until she moves into her apartment and she has been here a month and I want her gone because I have been relieved for a year and by myself....she is, everything you said about yours. ooooo, what to do? what to do? i found so old prozac and started taking 80 mg again andnow I am out and all i want to do is cry now. i made an appt with a therapist and she was no help to me. i told my mother that as soon as she finds a place, i am moving if she moves in my complex and my siblings called me mean and hateful and they know how my mother is towards me. this woman told me many years ago that it will not end until the end. she said her mother does her the same way and she just continues to love her from a distance but it seems the older she gets, the worse it gets. I cannot take this crap!!! someone...what to do? what to do?