Warning: This post contains mentions of parental abuse.
I am scared.
So, incredibly scared.
I am at my mother’s house. It happened again. I was so afraid that she will come to see me herself that I decided to come down for a few days.
And I have also decided that by the end, I will leave her a letter. I will explain, everything. Lay it out. Tell her that I do not want to see her again.
And guess what? I turn up, and she’s… okay. She acts nice. And it bothers me. Because I don’t trust it. I dont know what it means. I am not used to it. She has been talking about mating my partner, and housing and helping out with things…. And I dont get any of it. I am used to her hitting me, belittling me and making me feel worthless. I feel like a hurt animal. I dont know what to do.
I am shitting myself. I dont know what she will do once she reads the letter, and if I get a phone call from her I might just have a breakdown on the coach. I dont know what she can do. I have a draft in my mind… but I will be writing it up later and… I am so, so afraid.
But I want to be better. I want to be healthy. I cant do that if I fear her existance every day of my life.
Let’s talk about my brain. I have… a thing. Something that I think many other people may relate to. I physically cannot tell who is my friend. I just can’t. Today, me and a group of friends had a bit of an argument centred around my partners DM skills (we play Dungeons and Dragons together) and some stuff about my playing character.
Not even an argument really, just a group of people raising their concerns. Not a big deal, right? But I spent the rest of the night with my brain screaming “see? they hate you! They think you are an attention seeking prick who ruins their fun every Wednesday.” Now… logically, I can tell myself that no, that’s probably not true, and that just because somebody has a few complaints, only one of which had anything to do with me. But I can’t… shake it, despite knowing the logical truth.
My brain just can’t accept it. They have to hate me. But it got me thinking. Who are my friends? I don’t think I can consider anyone outside my partner a friend, because I don’t think they see me that way. But I don’t really know… what makes someone my friend?
It feels like my brain just can’t accept the concept that someone cares. Like… I know people hang out with me but I always explain it with things like… people being polite. Or just allowing my existence because my partner is there. I can’y shake it, and with the rest of the bull happening with my brain…
This is really becoming too much.
Let’s talk about family.
Tomorrow, its Easter Sunday. Where I come from, it’s basically Christmas 2.0. The whole family gets together, there is a feast, a shit tonne of food.
I have spent countless hours today cooking traditional Polish food. Baking cheesecake and cutting vegetables for a salad. Painting pisanki (polish easter eggs). But I won’t be sitting down at the table with my mother and step father, my brother and uncle.
Tomorrow, I will instead be sitting at a table with my fiancé, and my friend who also doesn’t have a family to spend the easter with. I will be showing them Polish traditions and we will laugh and enjoy our time together.
But still… I am scared. This is my first time celebrating easter properly since I’ve left. And at the same time I feel like I shouldn’t be. Because after all… My mother and step father hurt me. They did things to me that will forever have an effect on me.
And yet… I feel lonely. A part of me actually misses them, despite knowing that I dont want to see them ever again. Over the years, my mother especially made me feel that I have nobody in the world outside of her. That I cannot survive, let alone live without her.
I battle against that notion every day. And tomorrow, is one of those big battles. I want it to be perfect. Its why I’ve spent hours in the kitchen. I dont want to be lonely.
My partner is now my family. My friends are my family. And I will sit with them tomorrow, in honesty and care. It wont be perfect. I know that. I might get sad, need a moment alone for five minutes but… its a start. A start to letting go of the abusive bond my biological family forced on me.
I wont let them make me lonely.