So I just saw an old after-school special starring patty dukes and her real life son Sean Austin. (his first role)
It was called, don't hit me mom, and it was basically about Sean's babysitter realizing that his mother was abusing him.
This episode was actually pretty poignant, because patty herself has admitted to abusing her son for real while she was in the throes of her mania (part of her manic-depressive illness.)
As I was watching the episode, I realized that I sympathized with patty's character more than the babysitter.
I thought about it, and realized that it's actually because my mothers is a lot like that.
I posted a comment about that, and went on to see another, unrelated, after school special.
However, I am now laying in bed awake because a lot of things that I'd forgotten have bubbled to the surface.
I keep on hearing my mother screaming "you're crying?!? I'll give you a reason to cry!"
She would always do that when I was upset about something. She would say that what I was crying about was trivial and childish, and say that if I wanted a reason to cry, she'd give me one. And then she'd slap me.
Here's the thing; I was a child, and so I was bothered by childish things.
I've often wondered why I'm more mature than my peers. I just figured out that I had the immaturity smacked out of me.
I remember one specific time when I was oversleeping (I did that often), and my mother screamed at me and yanked me out of bed by my hair. She claims that's she never did anything of the sort, but I even remember where she dragged me to. It was the top of the stairs. She dragged me by my hair approximately 7 feet, and when she let me go, and I still wasn't standing up to show her I was awake, she kicked me. Again. And again. And again.
My brother was also very physically abusive, but I know where he learned it from.
I remember one specific time he was angry at me for something stupid like not knowing where one of his DVDs were, and I stupidly commented on it...
He ran across the room and pounced on me, choking me.
I remember not being able to breath, but somehow getting a horse shout out, and my mother thankfully heard from downstairs.
The craziest thing about it tho, is that I remember thinking "I could kick him and get him off me, but I don't want to hurt him"
Another time we had an issue was when he wanted to rewind a video we were watching and I wanted to fast forward. I reached over to press rewind for him on the VCR, but thinking that I was going to do fast forward, he grabbed my finger and snapped it back.
It hurt so bad that I had to go to the doctor.
Thankfully it hadn't been broken, only a pulled ligament. I had it in a splint for a week.
Another time he wanted to borrow my camera, and I was very protective of it. When I said he can't have it, he tackled me, and started punching me.
I remember going to school black and blue under my shirt. None of the teachers knew, because my face wasn't bruised. But I hurt so badly. Gosh I hurt. I remember thinking up reasons why I would have those bruises in case someone realized that I was tender there.
But back to my mother...
I remember a lot of smacks.
I remember having a raised outline of her hand on my arm from one of here smacks. It wasn't black and blue like in the movies, but pink. Hardly darker than my skin. You'd have to look carefully to see it.
But either way, I wore a long sleeved shirt, so no one knew.
I remember when I was having a hard time waking up one day (she was throwing a tantrum that I wasnt waking up, so I shut down. It was so much easier to pretend I was a robot who had turned off than react to her screaming)
But anyway, this time she decided to get me to react. She came into my room after hitting me a few times (I was still in bed.)
I had taken to looking at my keyboard that was leaning against my closet to stop from seeing or hearing her.
But anyway, she realized that I was looking it it, so she grabbed it and threw it across the room. Shattering the base.
I haven't really played much piano since. Not like I did before.
But anyway, aftere she did that, she brought me an instant soup, and drove me to lakewood to spend time with my nieces and nephews to cheer me up.
It worked, but
I just don't understand why she did it.
The question that just entered my mind before I sat down to write this was "where we're all my siblings?" were they watching me get been up and not caring?
Or we're they on the receiving end too?
What about my father?
I know my mother claims he used to beat her, but I've never seen him lift a finger towards her.
What if she hit him?
It's possible.
I really don't know.
I really want to draw something right now to calm down.
(I just heard my father cough downstairs. He's up early for slichos)
Anyway, my basic life update to come soon.
But for now, yes, I am still alive. And apparently still a bit prone to getting upset.
But I honestly was really good these last few months, which is why there have been no entries.
Anyway, I'm going to sign off... If I remember anything else, I'll write it. It's been very cathartic to talk about this.
Goodnight,
Sara Dina
4:51 am sept 14
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