Rage Flashback

I had a rough morning. I've been so tired recovering from the cold and not getting enough sleep at night that I've been short with my daughter. She wants me to play with her and all I want to do is sleep on the couch. My hubbie finally got out of bed and I snapped at him I was going back to sleep and ran upstairs.

He watched Bri until 2 then put her down. I did manage to get a little sleep. But I had this weird stress-induced flashback. I was remembering being 12 in mom's house and having to deal with my brother. I locked the door to keep him out to try to defend myself and dad would take the door off of its hinges. I think it was a control thing. It was his house and so he needed access to every nook and cranny on a whim. Mom gave a short attempt to defend it, saying to him I needed the door so I could have some defense from my bro.

It pisses me off on one hand, because she knew how bad it was. I almost would have been less pissed at her had she not had any idea of how he treated me. Being pissed at dad is a given. I've always been pissed at him. There were so many things wrong with the way he acted and how he treated us. I don't think mom had any say in that house about pretty much anything. So she couldn't protect me even if she wanted to. It would have amounted to choosing sides and she would never have chosen a child over her husband. It wasn't what women from her generation were taught to do.

Dad ignored me as a matter of course. The only time I caught his attention was if I had screwed up in some way. Then the lectures about college and getting a good job came swooping down. He was vicious in his attacks too. He would not let up. I think on some level he let he have all the frustration he felt toward my brother. It was always, “we're not going to be here forever”, “we're not going to support you as an adult”. I think it ironic that that is exactly what they did for my bro.

I don't remember if he ever called me stupid or an idiot the way he did my mother. He was on her case constantly. Always screaming at her about something. Never saying thank you when she helped him find his lighter or helped him with school work. And bro did just as badly. He learned well from dad's example. He treated mom like crap and treated other girls like crap too.

I almost did run away once. I was still hanging out with Erika a lot around that time. I think it was in 7^th grade maybe. I had that crush on the boy across the street. I can't remember the exact year. I got into a huge argument with mom and decided I was going to do it. I even planned it out over the phone with Erika. I gave it a few hours and calmed down. I'd read horror stories about runaways so I knew the risks and just needed time to talk myself out of it. Better the evils you know. . .

Anyways, this afternoon when I was lying down I went back to that place and really screamed the stuff that I hadn't the courage to say back then. I was afraid of the loss of financial support. I knew I'd get cut off and even possibly thrown out if I had stood up for myself. In my head I just let it rip. I threw everything in the kitchen I could get my hands on and just started yelling how much I hated him and my bro and even mom. I was not the problem. I'm not crazy or unstable. I was pissed at how I was being treated and I snapped from the pain and rage of it. I screamed "I hate you" ans threw things a lot.

It's been a long time since I've been that close to those emotions. I haven't been that little girl hiding in her room in a long time. I cried a bit and my thoughts wandered away from the trauma.

It made me feel bad about getting short tempered with Bri. I didn't want her to look at me the way I looked at my parents. I don't want to have a resentful relationship with her. I know sometimes it's inevitable. Kids need to strike out on their own after a while.

I love her so much it hurts and I hope we stay close. She's perfect to me and I can't not smile when I watch her.