my story, part 1, long. mother. triggers
Here's part one of my story. In March sometime I came across a posting on a forum where a guy talked about how his mother had bathed him up until puberty and how embarrasing it was then and how much it f'd him up. Reading that triggered a slew of memories and fragments of memories, I was feeling overwhelmed, I thought my SA had started later, when I was 10 or 11 with a family friend, I didn't connect my early experiences, I mostly blocked them out. I found this site and posted intitally about how to deal with memories that keep popping up.
My mother is 70 years old, overbearing and demanding, she uses guilt a lot. My father was always distant, uncommunicative. They're kind of like the parents on the tv show "Everybodoy Loves Raymond" but not funny.
I remember being 5 or 6, in the bathroom, being told to pull down my pants bend over and put my hands on the edge of the bathtub so my mother could put some kind of ointment on my butt, what it was for I don't know.
When I was sick my mother would take my temperature rectally, I remember lying on the couch with my pants down and a thermometer in my butt, my mother leaving me there for a few minutes to put some dishes away. At bathtime she would have me get in the tub and get wet, and then stand up so she could lather me up with soap. This happened til I was 9 or 10. I remember looking forward to it, I remember waiting for her to get to my genitals because it would feel good. Once she was lathering up my testicles, told me they hadn't completely descended when I was born. I remember once telling my mother I was ready for a bath and my father making some kind of negative comment to her. I think it ended after that.
When I was 9 or 10 my family went fishing, both my brother and I got wet, my parents had brought extra clothes but there was no place to change. We got scolded with "I'm your mother, you don't have anything I haven't seen" and we had to change standing next to the car. I was so embarrased.
I rememeber being 8 or 9 and having to take a leak, I went into the bathroom and my mother was taking a bath, I turned to leave to use the downstairs bathroom, she said I didn't have to, I could go right here. I was embarrased, I said I was looking for a comb, took one off the counter and left. My family wasn't that open about nudity, even if we were I don't think any 9 year old wants to pee while their mom watches.
Around this time I remember walking by my parents bedroom in the evening, the door was open and they were lying on the bed in the dark, but there was light from the hall. They had their clothes on, my father was on his back, my mother sort of on her side arms wrapped around him. I remember feeling uncomfortable, like I shouldn't be seeing this, after a moment I walked away.
When I was 15 I got sick during the summer, some kind of flu. My mother came into my bedroom, said she needed to feel my stomach, something about appendicitis. I was in bed, wearing a t-shirt and some running shorts. She probes around my stomach a few times, then she cups my privates, probes my stomach again, says something I don't remember, puts the blanket back, and leaves.
Once when I was a 16 or 17 I walked through the laundry room while she was sorting dirty laundry to put in the machine. I turned around at the door to say something and saw her smelling my underwear, she was holding it up to her face and breathing in deeply. She didn't see me, I turned and left.
I had blocked out most of these memories. When I do remember them I'm filled with disgust, anger, rage, revulsion (is that a word?)
Especially the bath time fondling.
I visit my mother about once every 6 weeks, she lives about a 4 hours drive away. My father is out of the picture. More recent memories/events: Often when I'm watching tv she'll come in and sit on the couch with me, not right next to me, but a foot or two away. While we're watching she'll put her hand on the cushion between us and start sort of rubbing her fingers togther, rubbing her thumb. I get up an leave after a minute of this 'cause it grosses me out.
Around x-mas time last year I was visting, we were watching some program and she unbuttons her pants and undoes the zipper, like maybe it's too tight after dinner, she was wearing a long shirt, so she was kind of covered up, I got grossed out and left the room. Once I came home from a movie around midnight, from the kitchen I heard her moaning, making noises. I slammed the door as I went downstairs, disgusted. I know she heard me come in.
In the past year or so when I was home visitng she kept bringing up the pedophile priest scandals, or the Michael Jackson case, and "isn't that awful? and "what do you think?". I couldn't figure out why she kept talking to me about it. At the time I figured she suspects I'm gay and wanted to get my reaction. But after all those memories were triggered now I think she's worried about how much I remember of what she did to me.
I'm 38, so this all happened in the 70's and 80's, but times weren't that different. There was no reason I couldn't have my temperature taken orally. If I gave my 8 year old niece a bath and lathered up her genitals I'd be sent to jail. I think if I confronted my mother she'd just deny it or minimize it. Sometimes she talks about raising my and my brother and says b.s. like "We did the best we could". What if your best isn't good enough? Is it still okay? What if your "best" still totally f'ed up your kids? I get so f-ing disgusted just thinking about it all. I physically shudder sometimes. Words can't really describe it.
When I saw her last month she handed me some keys and her hand brushed against mine, I looked at it and felt gross. Lately I've been feeling more distant from my mother. It's all confusing and f'd up. A couple of years ago she had a brush with cancer and I felt all this grief and fear that she might die. She recovered. But I'm filled with conflicting emotions. I love my mother, but I'm also disgusted with her actions. I don't know if confronting her will make things better. On the other hand, why should she live out her life not knowing how much damage she did?
I'll stop rambling here, this post is way longer than I thought it would be. I met my next abuser when I was 10, he was my brother's friend, he was 13 when he started grooming me, but thats another post.
My mother is 70 years old, overbearing and demanding, she uses guilt a lot. My father was always distant, uncommunicative. They're kind of like the parents on the tv show "Everybodoy Loves Raymond" but not funny.
I remember being 5 or 6, in the bathroom, being told to pull down my pants bend over and put my hands on the edge of the bathtub so my mother could put some kind of ointment on my butt, what it was for I don't know.
When I was sick my mother would take my temperature rectally, I remember lying on the couch with my pants down and a thermometer in my butt, my mother leaving me there for a few minutes to put some dishes away. At bathtime she would have me get in the tub and get wet, and then stand up so she could lather me up with soap. This happened til I was 9 or 10. I remember looking forward to it, I remember waiting for her to get to my genitals because it would feel good. Once she was lathering up my testicles, told me they hadn't completely descended when I was born. I remember once telling my mother I was ready for a bath and my father making some kind of negative comment to her. I think it ended after that.
When I was 9 or 10 my family went fishing, both my brother and I got wet, my parents had brought extra clothes but there was no place to change. We got scolded with "I'm your mother, you don't have anything I haven't seen" and we had to change standing next to the car. I was so embarrased.
I rememeber being 8 or 9 and having to take a leak, I went into the bathroom and my mother was taking a bath, I turned to leave to use the downstairs bathroom, she said I didn't have to, I could go right here. I was embarrased, I said I was looking for a comb, took one off the counter and left. My family wasn't that open about nudity, even if we were I don't think any 9 year old wants to pee while their mom watches.
Around this time I remember walking by my parents bedroom in the evening, the door was open and they were lying on the bed in the dark, but there was light from the hall. They had their clothes on, my father was on his back, my mother sort of on her side arms wrapped around him. I remember feeling uncomfortable, like I shouldn't be seeing this, after a moment I walked away.
When I was 15 I got sick during the summer, some kind of flu. My mother came into my bedroom, said she needed to feel my stomach, something about appendicitis. I was in bed, wearing a t-shirt and some running shorts. She probes around my stomach a few times, then she cups my privates, probes my stomach again, says something I don't remember, puts the blanket back, and leaves.
Once when I was a 16 or 17 I walked through the laundry room while she was sorting dirty laundry to put in the machine. I turned around at the door to say something and saw her smelling my underwear, she was holding it up to her face and breathing in deeply. She didn't see me, I turned and left.
I had blocked out most of these memories. When I do remember them I'm filled with disgust, anger, rage, revulsion (is that a word?)
Especially the bath time fondling.
I visit my mother about once every 6 weeks, she lives about a 4 hours drive away. My father is out of the picture. More recent memories/events: Often when I'm watching tv she'll come in and sit on the couch with me, not right next to me, but a foot or two away. While we're watching she'll put her hand on the cushion between us and start sort of rubbing her fingers togther, rubbing her thumb. I get up an leave after a minute of this 'cause it grosses me out.
Around x-mas time last year I was visting, we were watching some program and she unbuttons her pants and undoes the zipper, like maybe it's too tight after dinner, she was wearing a long shirt, so she was kind of covered up, I got grossed out and left the room. Once I came home from a movie around midnight, from the kitchen I heard her moaning, making noises. I slammed the door as I went downstairs, disgusted. I know she heard me come in.
In the past year or so when I was home visitng she kept bringing up the pedophile priest scandals, or the Michael Jackson case, and "isn't that awful? and "what do you think?". I couldn't figure out why she kept talking to me about it. At the time I figured she suspects I'm gay and wanted to get my reaction. But after all those memories were triggered now I think she's worried about how much I remember of what she did to me.
I'm 38, so this all happened in the 70's and 80's, but times weren't that different. There was no reason I couldn't have my temperature taken orally. If I gave my 8 year old niece a bath and lathered up her genitals I'd be sent to jail. I think if I confronted my mother she'd just deny it or minimize it. Sometimes she talks about raising my and my brother and says b.s. like "We did the best we could". What if your best isn't good enough? Is it still okay? What if your "best" still totally f'ed up your kids? I get so f-ing disgusted just thinking about it all. I physically shudder sometimes. Words can't really describe it.
When I saw her last month she handed me some keys and her hand brushed against mine, I looked at it and felt gross. Lately I've been feeling more distant from my mother. It's all confusing and f'd up. A couple of years ago she had a brush with cancer and I felt all this grief and fear that she might die. She recovered. But I'm filled with conflicting emotions. I love my mother, but I'm also disgusted with her actions. I don't know if confronting her will make things better. On the other hand, why should she live out her life not knowing how much damage she did?
I'll stop rambling here, this post is way longer than I thought it would be. I met my next abuser when I was 10, he was my brother's friend, he was 13 when he started grooming me, but thats another post.