I started this as Therapy Homework. A way to find out why I had so much pent-up hostility and anger. This is not the first time I have started something like this. Joss asked me to write a letter about why I was angry and hurt by Nina. That was back in June of 2023. Letters like that are not my style, and there was so much in my head that I needed a way to organize my thoughts. So, I did what I always find comfort and structure in, I made an outline first. It is four pages. It never made it pass that. Just seeing everything down on paper was too painful, and it wasn’t finished. It was around that time, I guess, that the hostility, anger, and pain began to steep as if trapped in a pressure cooker. My husband has told me repeatedly that I’m not very good at holding stuff in, that eventually it will boil over and I’ll break or explode. I did finally breakdown, in therapy thankfully. Here I am, back to the list of Why I’m Angry. I came up with a list of ten things and stopped there, I felt that covered the general subjects. We then worked on breaking that up into two categories, anger at myself and anger at Nina. I thought that if I started writing and discussing why I was angry at myself, then expanding on why I was angry at HER, it would make the task easier. It would make more sense. That’s not how it worked out. Logically, the anger I hold toward myself is a manifestation of the programming from HER. So, now I’m rethinking everything.
I feel the best and most honest way to do this is to first state the source of the anger, then my original thought process, and finally, the rephrase or reprogram. There are ten things on my list, but two of them I am not at liberty to discuss currently. That leaves eight topics, six of which I blamed myself for. Not a good ratio to start with.
- The “sacrifices” I made that I shouldn’t have for The Family.
- The financial grave I dug and put the ones that are most important to me in for the sake of The Family.
- The overwhelming feelings of being a failure and never being (good) enough for everyone.
- The feelings of helplessness that I can’t just “fix things” and move on.
- The loss of those I love, my heroes, and never being allowed to grieve.
- The invalidation and villainization of some of my heroes.
- The guilt left from the cult-like Matriarchy and religious abuse.
- The MDSA by Mother.
I will not be covering all eight of these in this post. These are broad categories, and remember, I have four pages of an outline to explain in detail each point. Some things will cross into a few different categories. This rabbit hole goes deep, deeper than anyone, especially me, realizes.
The Reason I’m Angry: at Myself… The “sacrifices” I made that I shouldn’t have for The Family.
(My original thought) I was taught that my duty was as a mother and wife, to sacrifice my needs and wants for my family. I was also taught that it was my duty to care for my mother because she took care of me as a child. I also wanted to prove to the world that I wasn’t spoiled, that I was humble. I could make do with what I had to make others happy and provide for them. The anger sets in when I finally realize that my programming of humility and self-sacrifice was being weaponized against me, it was being used to control me and keep me trapped in The Family, subservient. I’m living in a big house that my husband bought for me, because he loves me and said I deserved it. I felt guilty because in my mind, it was proving that I was spoiled.
(The rephrase or reprogram) This is the difficult part. I was PROGRAMMED that my job, my lot in life, was to take care of my mother, be a mother to my children and lastly be a wife. That was the order of things. Nina would tell me that you sacrificed for your children, she did. Bullshit! She made it a point to tell anyone that would listen about how spoiled I was, including both my ex-husband and Ihnzo. While I was dating them! The mixed messages of being spoiled and self-sacrifice kept me confused. To the point that I felt I didn’t deserve the gifts I received, including the house Ihnzo bought for us. She would tell others that I was spoiled because he had bought me a beautiful home. I felt ashamed, guilty, ungrateful… but not angry. Now that I am angry, my anger has been redirected to Nina. Where it belongs. I don’t need to be angry at myself for simply being programmed to believe that I was worthless and undeserving; and SHE, my children and my husband came first… in that order.
The Reason I’m Angry: at Myself… the financial grave I dug and put the ones that are most important to me in for the sake of The Family.
(My original thought) Nina’s favorite saying is “it all comes out in the wash”. And if I couldn’t do it, then I wasn’t managing my finances good enough. (But according to HER I wasn’t smart enough, either) if I had to ask for help, I felt like I was selling a little more of my soul to the devil. When she needed, it was my duty to help HER… because “we were so well-off”. I would figure out after May 2023, that my “surrogate” daughter was using me, for the benefit of herself and Nina. She was also playing spy for HER. Anytime I or Ihnzo or the boys wanted something, she or Nina would “need” something or be “short” of funds they promised to pay back. In order to cover-up the bullshit and hide the crap that was going on, I would sacrifice, lie, shuffle bill money and/or make cuts to grocery lists. If I did something for Ihnzo or the boys that they thought was a waste, I would be shamed and ridiculed, to the point of being told that I was living beyond my means. I feel like I allowed this to happen, I made these choices.
(The rephase or reprogram) This goes back to the programming of self-sacrifice. Nina would “help me” when it benefitted her. Saying it would all come out in the wash… [the unspoken part] at the price of a piece of my soul. She did it because she loved me, but I was supposed to help HER because it was my duty. Damn, I never caught on. I would get so angry at myself because I couldn’t support everyone, I couldn’t get everyone want they needed or wanted. I would feel guilty when I didn’t have gas to drive an hour to help her. I strived to be everything to everyone and seriously thought that I had to buy everyone’s love. I would work diligently on the monthly budget. It always worked out on paper, sometimes with little to no room for error. Mainly because I would take out loans to “make ends meet”. All the while making excuses for why they had broken promises of helping or paying us back or why they needed help again. I shouldn’t be angry at myself for being backed into a corner with two choices. There was no right or correct answer, only a choice of the lesser of two evils. Choosing to “deal with” my husband being angry, and hurt was a better option than dealing with the fallout from Nina. I’m not even sure if this one made sense.
The Reason I’m Angry: at Myself… The overwhelming feelings of being a failure and never being (good) enough for everyone.
(My original thought) The constant feeling of being a fuck-up. Constantly being told whenever I voiced the overwhelm and frustration these challenges caused me, the proverbial “God only gives us what we can handle”. This is on top of the original programming of being “broken” or “not smart enough”, or emotionally “weak”. It leaves me confused. If I’m so weak and broken, then why am I having so much “given” to me. Yet so many people tell me how strong I am for doing what I do. I know I’m a strong person; loving and compassionate. I had to be strong growing up. When I would break from the strain and stress, SHE would say “it’s ok to ask mom for help”. If I did ask for help, then my life challenges would be used against me. Something else to weaponize so that She could dig Her claws in deeper. It feels like a vicious cycle. Then having it reinforced that I’m not good enough, but “it’s ok. God and I still love you and that’s why God gave you to me. Mom will fix it.” The price though is your eternal servitude and another piece of your soul. I realize now, painfully so, that I was often being guided into the situation of “needing” help. Everyone needs a little boost now and then. This entrapment cost me my intuition and trust in myself. If I had just tried hard enough, maybe I could have been more to more people.
(The rephrase or reprogram) I am not a fuck-up. I am a product of my programming. I was given several challenges by the Universe. I have a wonderful son on the Spectrum that I wouldn’t change for the world. I have another son, the youngest, that is physically disabled, that has taught me about life and happiness, that again, I wouldn’t give up for anything. Then there is the crown jewel, Ihnzo. He is a disabled Veteran, and my soul-drug. I have learned so much about TBIs and spinal injuries. I have learned about advocating for others. I have gained strength in not taking no or “I don’t know” for an answer. The constant second guessing and not trusting my intuition and feeling the need to reach out to HER to make sure I’m doing it right. Only to “lovingly” be criticized and minimized. It’s not me I should be angry at; I was doing everything I could correctly. If I wasn’t sure, I researched and asked questions. SHE just couldn’t tolerate that SHE wasn’t in the spotlight, getting the praise. In this instance, the anger morphs into hatred. I’m not a failure! I don’t have to be enough of anything for anyone, so long as I am doing my best and doing everything I realistically can to get my family the care they need and deserve. Bitch, you taught me how to do this job, and you’re just jealous because I crushed it….
Last one for this post…
The Reason I’m Angry: at Myself… the feelings of helplessness that I can’t just “fix things” and move on.
(My original thought) I went back to therapy December 1, 2022. I trust Joss, so that is why I chose her to go back to. Fast forward to over a year later, and I just want it all to go away. I want to be “normal”, happy, free, content. I’m tired of being neck deep in trauma, pain, anger, hurt, all of it. I’m done with falling down the rabbit hole that doesn’t end. I want to be able to say, “shit happened, I see it, acknowledge it, accept it and just want to move on”. Therapy gets old, talking about the crap gets old, admitting to MYSELF that I’m fucked up gets old; yet I can’t avoid this anymore. I need to heal, to be whole, to learn how to human. If I persevere and continue to make progress, then one day I will be able to be happy and comfortable in my own skin. I’m in debt and my credit sucks. When you feel trapped, you do things that you would not normally or rationally do. Then be left with guilt and remorse and financial damage. Not to mention the mental and emotional damage that my kids and husband have endured from me and NINA. I’m cleaning up my own mess and encouraging those I love to heal. I apologize constantly for the shit I’ve done, and the way things are right now.
(The rephrase or reprogram) I don’t know how to grieve (I was never allowed). I don’t show appropriate emotions or cry sometimes (I’m too sensitive). I can’t say thank you (I’m undeserving). I can’t look people in the eye (I’m unworthy). These are the things that I continue to work on. This is programming, not the way I was born. I describe it as being a computer with hardware and software designed for Microsoft but being forced to run on Apple OS. I can’t simply reformat my system and make it work properly though. I have to spend time, lots of patient time, reprogramming the system, one application at a time. I didn’t ask for this, SHE made the decision to do this to me. The reason doesn’t matter, the healing is what does. Again, the anger turns to hatred. SHE should be the one apologizing to me, my kids, my ex-husband, my husband now, my dad, both my grandmas, the list is long.
There’s more to say, but I’ll stop here. I don’t want my anger to spill over onto the page. That’s another post. I’m going stop here. Thank you for reading.
Chameleon Boy by Blue October
(chorus)
Stand by for another breakdown
Sound off the alarm
Is this the chameleon boy I swore I wouldn’t become?
Chameleon boy, Chameleon boy
(verse)
So now we’ve come upon
The hardest thing I’ve ever done
It’s telling you that I’m a mess
What sort of mess I mean
Is self-destructive gasoline
The kind that strips you of your best
Written by Justin Furstenfeld
First published February 24, 2024