This day...I hate it

I'm using this account because nobody knows it. I hate this day. I loathe this day with a passion.

My mom was a malignant narcissist. I've learned some things in the last year...that change my entire view of my life and world. Not only did she willingly put me into situations with the men she was dating... she was the people investigating man for doing the things she brought home to her daughter to do to her. For years, decades, I've been telling myself she wasn't involved. Maybe she was willingly ignorant.

Yeah. She wasn't. She was involved. I took a deep dive into my memories, and there were times she was holding the Polaroid camera. I've been chilling with the fact that I was abused for a long time, this realization that my mom was a participant is what has killed me. She died a few years ago. I can't confront her. Her husband thinks that she should be a fucking saint.

Yet he knows she abandoned me to other relatives. He knows that for 13 years she only wanted me when a man was around, but he doesn't care. He loved her so much that she will never ever be the person that all the rest of us in the family see.

So here we are again, Mother's Day. I'm having to honor the mother of the year. Dealing with the fact that she was one of my abusers. Not only emotionally. Or physically. She would strike out whenever she wanted to, but she knew what these men were going to hurt me, and at least with the second man she was a participant.

I'm in middle age...and dealing with the fact that there were photos of me, for all I know, still photos out there of me. It's a deep level of victimization all over again. It's constant mental barrage of unwanted memories. Constant. When I sleep, I dream it. I realized my internal dialogue all my life, that nasty voice in my head, that's the second of the men who abused me.

I can't be honest, nobody wants to hear it. I'm waitlisted for therapy, and my pcp is out of her comfort zone. My former therapist started the deep dive into childhood memories and then the practice closed.

I'm also a stepmother, but the steps have referred to me as a "nothing" after decades of marriage and trying so hard. I have no biological children.

I do have a step niece and a step nephew, but I've been told to not expect any relationship because it's their family and I'm one of the "cursed" Mediterranean "dirty" people befouling the pretty blond blue eyed Germanic line. My stepdad married into our family, so what does that say there shrug. Yeah, my stepparent refers to his dead wife's blood as "the curse." And reminds me that I'm not " a REAL mom."

How the heck do you negotiate a day like this without your spirit dying? Because I've spent much of it in tears and anguish. Unable to eat. Curled up in a ball.

❤️ Thank you for listening.