My Relationship with My Mom

As I continue to publicly share my experience as a child, in each post I focus on a certain aspect that has impacted the shaping of who I am today. With that being said, my mother is the main source in which I had a low self-esteem, crippling anxiety/depression, anger issues, and many more mental obstacles which I will discuss more in-depth.

From the age of about five to ten, I was placed in a private school or I was homeschooled by my mother. During this process, I became isolated from socializing and public events that did not please my mothers particular “phase,” at that point in time. Therefore, when I was finally placed in public school in sixth grade, my life became a series of events consisting in the defense of my own emotions and independence.

Furthermore, as I began becoming more socially involved with a diverse friend group, I began comparing my own home life to others. For example, when going to a friends house and noticing that their parents are holding hands or spending time with their kids, THAT was weird. I had never experienced a peaceful family event, in which, everyone included felt comfortable and loved. Family events in my home were chaotic, forced, and uncomfortable. Reason being, there was always an argument between a sibling and a parent or two siblings.

After I began making connections between my own family and my friends, I began standing up for myself as well as my siblings. Now, in a healthy family setting, being outspoken would be encouraged and praised. However, in my home, my mother used this trait against me. It was at this time in my life, that everything I did became a test of my mothers ability to belittle me. I specifically remember a time period in sixth grade, in which, I began self-harming. My mother found out about this and immediately punished me without further question. She was angry with me for hurting myself, and there was absolutely NO compassion or thought as to why her own daughter was doing this.

After this specific event in my life, my mother’s actions became more blatantly obvious in the sense that she chose to tear me down, rather than build me up. She used all of my valid emotions as a tactic to use in her own self-pity, rather than giving console towards me. It became a constant battle between her and I, as she constantly asked me questions like “Why are you like this?”or “Why can’t you just be happy? Why are you so cruel?” Because of this, I literally thought there was something wrong with me. I finally decided to tell her why I was upset, stating that she never showed me console when I was in a time of need. I was struggling and she reciprocated my own mental battles as a means to use against me, only to satisfy her narcissistic character. After calling her out, she proceeded to tell me I was wrong and that she did try to help me, even though she never put in the extra effort.

The conflicts between my mother and I from there on out, were absolutely brutal. Whether I was defending myself or defending my siblings, she would tear me apart and consistently blame me for my siblings actions. It was at this time, my siblings even became harsh towards me but even their harsh words were rationalized as my fault. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me or why I couldn’t seem to do anything right. Each day was like tip toeing around a minefield. I never knew how my mother would act or if she would decide to create a battle with me. She made me feel as though my feelings were invalid. She made me feel helpless and worthless.

My reason for staying so confident in my defense, were my siblings. My siblings are my best friends and they each had their own mental struggles that I could not bear to just stay silent about. My parents rarely felt the need to take action in a medical urgency unless we begged them. This caused a chaos in my house that is utterly unmatched. My home was a place I dreaded because I felt as though I was not welcome.

There were several points in my relationship with my mother, in which, I thought it was possible that she could see past her self-absorbed thoughts. I have never been so wrong. The more I felt pity for her, the stronger of a hold she had on me, in the sense that she could cause me to mentally breakdown at any given moment. She forced herself to believe that I was capable of no right and used my qualities as a means to emotionally abuse me. She would continuously scream at me while I would be hyperventilating and having a panic attack. I would ask her to stop and to give me space but she was absolutely relentless. She broke me down day after day, showing me that I was only a pawn in her game.

It wasn’t until this past year that I truly began to realize how abusive she was and how I did not need her in my life. I began standing out even more and I recieved hateful, unwanted words from my mother. My parents were treating me as though I didn’t have emotions and I was only a tool for them to help parent their own kids. I took a bulk of responsibility in taking care of my siblings, and during the process I was manipulated and hurt beyond measure by my own parents.

I have never shared this publicly before but it is apart of my own healing that I do. My parents caused me to hate my own being alive, I did try to commit suicide because of them. They put me in such a mentally, dark place that I truly believed I would not be able to make it through another year living with either of them. Luckily, since then I have become incredibly self-motivated and have grown relationships far more nurturing than the ones of my parents. I began to show myself compassion and realize that my feelings are valid and that I do not need my parents as a source of console. I only need myself. Though it is still painful at times and I am not exempt from the cruel words of my parents yet, I have faith in my own being and future. I am incredibly proud of the person I am now and if I hadn’t made as many changes to my life as I have, I probably would not be alive right now.

All in all, it is painful to understand that my parents treat me as an individual here specifically to benefit them, and not as a daughter whom they love unconditionally, I do love myself. I have surrounded myself with positive changes and positive relationships to the point that I have grown a stronger self-esteem and I have processed the idea that I do not need anyone. I only need myself. I thank my parents for birthing me, but the past several years of my life have come to show me how discouraging they are and I do not need that kind of energy in my life.

I am strong.

My Childhood

Anna Lee

While growing up with five other siblings and each their own mental battles, my home was never seen as a peaceful place, at least from the eyes of witnesses. As my siblings and I are incredibly close, this was truly the only motivation in which we all took hold of to ignore the chaos in our own home. We found comfort in each other as each day was a different conflict between my parents or my parents and my siblings. There was never an outlet in our home, in which we could confide our thoughts (other than each other) without being belittled or manipulated

When I was around the age of about three, my family moved from Crofton, Maryland to Jacobus, Pennsylvania. In this house, is where some of the most traumatic events of my life occurred. The negative energy that consumed my family was spread throughout the house and my siblings and I have all agreed about the idea, in which we would feel a sensation, such as a weight on our chest when entering our own home. This negative energy was, for the most part, brought upon by my own mother.

From the time I was in kindergarten to about fifth grade, I was either being homeschooled or I was placed in a private Seventh Day Adventist school because, at the time, my mom was extremely invested towards becoming the ‘model Christian.’ However, this was simply a phase in her parenting methods towards raising her own kids. As I was growing up, the dynamics relating to discipline and guidelines in our home were constantly changing due to the fact that my mother was consistently changing her mindset. Due to the constant changes in my childhood, it became extremely controversial in my own upcoming as I did not know how to socialize ‘normally’ because my mom was so devoted to herself that she neglected to consider her childrens pursuits, self-esteem, and future endeavors.

When I was finally placed in public school in sixth grade, I began to see my mother in a new light. In this, I mean that I began to understand more clearly my mothers intentions but as to why she was doing them, was a question I would neglect to discover until my high school years. It was during the time I was placed in public school that I drifted further from my mother as I was able to see more clearly, from comparing my parents with my friends’ parents, that I was not being treated in the way a child should be. It became glaringly, evident that most of my mothers intentions were strictly for herself and if we were to interfere with this idea or even so much as show self-pity, we were belittled.

I can say, honestly, that my mother was the one to have made me question my own self-worth. This woman, who is supposed to care and love for me regardless, did not know the first step and in a sense, she was moving backwards. She constantly belittled me and blamed myself and my siblings for anything regarding her negative feelings. There was never a thought that maybe, she WAS to blame for this emotional torture. I found myself constantly arguing with myself and consumed in anxiety over the idea that I thought there was something wrong with me. I had so many issues with my self-esteem, my mental space, and my ability to stay civil with my own mother.

My childhood seems more and more devastating as I go back through my memories, and recall many of the times in which I was emotionally abused. My mother would strive to see me fall apart and it is overwhelming, to say that she was a huge factor in my anxiety/panic attacks. Anything, in regards to my personal well being, were simply pushed aside unless I urged my parents to go further with them as I was physically and mentally distraught. These memories from my past are what has built me into the person I am today and as much as I would like to explain this ordeal in a simple page, it will take many entries on this page in order for my audience to get a full perspective on exactly the kind of emotional abuse I was exposed to as a child/teenager.

A huge reason I created this blog, was so that I could share my childhood experience from my full perspective, as I cannot easily explain it through one conversation. My childhood/family background is one of the most interesting topics for me to talk about it because it truly is, insane. I am not looking for any kind of attention as this is simply an outlet for my thoughts and a chance to explain myself without outside influences disrupting me. THIS is how I became who I am.