New here. Never told this to anyone.


Mother was verbally abusive, with a tendency to occasionally be physically abusive. You never knew which person she'd be. The nice one, or the angry, unpredictable one.

I remember she'd often go around the house “casually” dressed leaving little to the imagination. Short shorts & a T-shirt braless. In the evenings a bathrobe and often nothing else. I remember her making me strip to my underwear and get into bed with her for naps till I was 8. As a youngster I didn't think about this too much. You just think everybody else's life is about the same as yours.

I was a smallish, quiet, what we might call nowadays “nerdy” young man. I was a sporadic bedwetter till almost 15. I also would often have have daytime accidents till age 15. Mother would often make fun of me and demean me to the point of making me cry over both of these. Often it seemed as if she was deliberately tying up the bathroom to get me to wet my pants. On drives she would always refuse to stop anywhere to use the bathroom, causing me to humiliate myself many times. Then start demeaning me.

At night she'd come into my room and run her hand on the sheets and on my thighs to see if I had wet. If not she'd walk me to the bathroom, if so she'd make me change sheets. Some times she'd make me wear a diaper. Often when I was back in bed she'd lean over me, and I'm sure she was giving me a view inside her robe. It could not have been inadvertent. Then press herself down on top of me as if to give me a hug & and a kiss. But she'd linger and linger whispering about being “a big boy now” and almost rubbing her breasts on me. And yes, I had erotic thoughts and dreams about it.

I have had relationships but could never “go all the way” with them. Not sexually. I mean feeling fully committed. Something would always come up that would end it or they left me for foot dragging and tentativeness. I know there are lots of other reasons for this. Like not meeting the right person. But there has always been that uncertainty about why I could never get involved beyond a certain point.

Anyway, I just thought I'd post here and get some of this off my chest. I am reasonably certain this is all “on topic” as they say. It's not the kind of thing a person has many/any chances to talk about
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Staff member
mlane7, welcome to MS. When you noted being "nerdy", it resonated. You've not noted when or how your dad left, but it's not really the point. I wonder if otherwise, your mom was distant, not available for emotions, questions and school stuff? That nerdy part of me brought an onslaught of bullies from 7, 8th first time and 8th 2nd time. Sometimes I forget that I took 8th twice. She never told me why, she just did that to me. We had left the worst school, and went to one that wasn't too awful, but I was very isolated and still got bullied. I found more drugs at that 2nd 8th grade too.

It's seemed being left to ourselves, there are so many consequences. I know there were times it was supposed to be something good was happening, like a visit to either my Aunt and Uncle or Grandparents, but even there we were alone. I was alone in most of what we did. Though, some pictures come up and there I am. I wonder at it, and don't always know why I'm there? I usually didn't want to do things, the nerdy part had a lot more wrapped into it. I understand when you note you had tentative relationships. I do understand that, but had a bit of good luck so to speak in my early 20s. That has been a very complicated thing as well. I've had 1 relationship. I'm still with her.

I wish we were just the "Odd Couple", and maybe like me, you know that show? I later could see why Oscar would be so angry, but sort of forgive Felix most of the time. I didn't understand Felix, too into being perfect. I like casual, but not total slob like Oscar. What a show to relate to around 10-15. Mash became another one that I was attracted to, because there was a sense of making do in odd situations that were really beyond full understanding. That's what I got from childhood. There's nothing to learn, and just bear it all. That kinda sucks.

Sorry for what she did to you, it's always complex and leads to later issues. I think that's what's brought out here. We get into how to deal with the fallout that might interfere with living.


Thanks for the welcome. As far as her being distant...yes. No matter what the problem was it was always the better play to just not talk to her unless you just couldn't avoid it. Sorry to hear you got bullied so much. I was always afraid of it happening. But other than a few episodes I don't really recall being bullied, at least not too seriously or long term in school by the other students. I was mostly just excluded or passed over. I found the biggest and most unavoidable bullies in school, at least up until High School, were the teachers.


Greetings mlane7,

Welcome, this is a good place to come and introduce yourself, and find the freedom to release all that needs to be spoken, when you are able to share.
I can relate I also had a very abusive mother; sexually, emotionally, physically, she was always hard to predict how her emotional levels were. Specially during the "time of the month". Her rages could be triggered at any time, so life was always living and walking on egg shells.
I was also taken advantage of from men who were friends of my parents.
I was so rejected from her, because my mother desired "girls", I thought I should have been a girl then I would be loved. So I desired to become a girl, and lived it in my imagination. Thank God, I did not go through with it, I tried in my early 20's, but just let it go.
So I hooked up with men, because I never felt secure around girls for girlfriends.
So hope to see you more here whenever you desire to come by, there is no pressure.......all the best. :cool:


New Registrant
@mlane7 and @2Bnormal51 ,
Thank you both for sharing. Sounds like a little bit of covert moving towards covert incest to enmesh you at an early age. It's a life's work to uncover and release the wounds and memories. I can relate. Be well.
These are painful memories to unpack. Especially memories about our mothers since mothers have such elevated status in our culture. Without recalling the details of our relationship I still had difficulty buying a mother's day card. The language always seemed too syrupy. I couldn't say those things. Of course, the memories eventually became clearer and the impact her behavior had on me was devastating. How does a boy feel safe and secure in himself when the person closest to him keeps provoking him in so many ways... as your mother did to you? When the behaviors have sexual implications it is incredibly disturbing.

And this is all material we are invited to look at as we try to heal what is broken in us. All you can do is put one foot in front of the other. This is work which necessitates the support of a good therapist. I'm glad you have such support. We learn, of course, that sexualizing the material we find does not help. Thanks for the trigger warnings. We all need to determine for ourselves what images we want to carry. Ultimately we want to be free from those memories and images that keep us ensnared in the trauma.

All the best with your healing journey my friend.


Mlane7, I am very sorry to read of the cruel abuse you suffered at the hands of the one who should have loved you the most.

When males abuse it seems like a war. Life becomes like a war front. My plan is to survive the attack any way possible. When a female abuses, it seems like an invasion. It takes me longer time to separate what a female offender does than a male offender. The maternal bond that exists between mother and child is sacred. There is a maternal extension between me and other females as a result of her. If the maternal bond is used as a means to harm, stunt, dominate, control, manipulate and torture then it is damaged by the work of her own hands.

My father was much like your mother. He sold his 5-yr-old son to a child porn ring. The women there were cruel. They became more ferocious when they saw tears. It was at this time, I began to wet the bed. My father would bend me over the bed into the urine soaked sheets and give me a beating. I wet the bed until the age of 11, I believe.

In my 40's I had a dream of him sleeping in his bed. I saw him breathe his last breath. I saw his soul resurrect. Lastly I saw myself, a 5-yr-old boy standing beside the bed. I was flooded with peace. My father is still alive and there is no change in his character. He is the same person he always was. But the paternal bond that exists between father and son is severed, and I am at peace.

I hope you may experience a profound peace as well. And as you noted, it does take time to be purified and healed so that the survivor may enter freely into relationships. How much time depends upon the tools of the survivor and the grace of God. Thank you for your deeply personal post. It has given me cause to pause and reflect on my own past and I am helped by it.



In my case while the sex/nudity/touching was, from my perspective, “just not right” (couldn't put a name to it at the time like inappropriate or creepy), the worst part was the bullying, controlling, and demeaning. I don't know if the bedwetting and daytime bladder problems were specifically caused by all this but I'm sure the pervasive, relentless, anxiety from it certainly made it worse. Every time I needed to use the bathroom caused a major surge in anxiety and panic feedback. And like I said earlier, much of the time it was set up by mother in an apparent attempt to cause me to wet my pants. Making me wait. Not stopping or taking time out to let me use the bathroom. Tying up the bathroom. Making me beg to use the bathroom. Telling the lady next door about my bedwetting when I was 14 while I was sitting right there. Not letting me change clothes if I had an accident or making me change in front of her.

There were two teachers at school who also engaged in that type of behavior. Fifth and seventh grade. Almost never giving permission to use the bathroom even though on several occasions I had wet my pants in class. Then they'd make me feel like it was my fault. At that age (10-13) wetting your pants is a major embarrassment especially in front of peers. The feelings of helplessness and humiliation still haunt me.