- Jul 15, 2004
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I thought I should post a little about myself and why I'm here.
I've been married for almost two years (give me another two weeks and the "almost" can go away). Even before meeting my wife, I would have told you I was a momma's boy. I knew it. I didn't know she, my mother, was abusive and had been for a very long time.
My father is not a very emotional man. He's very closed off and not just to me. He's also very closed off to his wife. She needed the emotional connection and since her husband wasn't providing it, she turned to me. This created an inappropriate bond between us that she used to control me.
At one point, she had turned me against her husband to the point that I was ready to kick him out. The next day she told me that she shouldn't have told me what she had told me to set me off like that and made me feel like crap for feeling that way.
I never knew anything was wrong until I went to college for a year. I had an emotional breakdown just before finals because I didn't want to go home. I didn't realize why at the time, but now I believe it's because I experienced some freedom, some time away from my controlling parents and I didn't want to lose that freedom.
I found out months after going home that my father had planned on forcing my home, physically if necessary. Legally, it would have been kidnapping, since I was 18 at the time.
See, when I went top college, I was no longer under their control. I was able to actually feel freely, without having my emotions twisted, minimized and devalued. As they felt that control slipping away, they got more controlling.
Fast forward a few years to when I started dating (I was 21). My first relationship lasted 3 weeks. When it ended, I told my mother about it and I remember seeing a slight smile on her face when I did. I dismissed that as her being proud of how I was handling the rejection, but now I realize that was just wishful thinking.
When I met my wife I got a new job and had to move out of my parents house. Yes, I was 21 and living at home. Anyway, I moved in near where my wife lived which also was near my job. This was nearly two hours away from my parents.
Things were okay (a loose use of that word) until I proposed. During the engagement period is when I got the first inkling that something was wrong with my parents, but I dismissed it as them getting used to their son getting married. There were claims that they weren't allowed to help (even though we had asked them to help with specific things many times - they declined each time) and attempts to undermine my love for my fiancee (asking me if she was spending my money when we went shopping before I went on vacation with her and her family - technically this happened before I proposed, but it happened).
After we were married it only got worse. There were demands to see them that we couldn't fulfill because I had lost my job and insinuations that my wife was making all the decisions in our marriage (something that we have denied many times and they still believe).
When our son was born, things went from bad to worse. Two weeks after he was born was my birthday. My wife was dealing with postpartum depression and was not healing well so I wasn't able to go to my parents house for my birthday, as they had asked me to. I got a call from my mother who told me, through gritted teeth, that I would go down there and I wouldn't argue about it. I still didn't go because my wife comes before my parents (the whole leave and cleave thing).
The relationship with my parents spiraled downward from there. We canceled our plans to see them on Christmas, because they threw a fit when we wouldn't change our plans. We tried to make up with them right after the new year, but that only lasted until March.
After a nasty fight between myself and my wife, we did some searching to find out why I was so angry. It was then that we discovered that my mother was emotionally abusive. I didn't really accept it until a few days later when we surprised my mother for her birthday. It was the most awkward party I've ever been to and filled with passive aggressive comments and actions.
Then next day, we cut them off. We didn't speak to them again until about three weeks ago when we finally got an apology letter from my mother. We responded saying that we accepted the apology and were sorry for our part in the whole thing and laid out some boundaries for them to follow. Their response was an angry letter that we found out was almost copied out of a self-help book. A self-help book that blames all the in-law problems in a marriage on the daughter in law.
So now, I don't even like calling them my parents. I never want to see them again. They were destroying my marriage and trying to control me. I've lost friends to this. My best friend, whom they call their third son, and his wife have all but declared that they are on my parents side. A friend from my old church (my parents current one) threw scripture at us telling us that we needed to forgive them. My mother's sisters and my cousin have all sent nasty letters, phone calls, emails, etc telling us how we've hurt my parents and we need to forgive and forget (mind you, they were never part of the original problem - my mother cries to them about her problems with us and now her entire family hates my wife whom they have been told made the decision to cut them off).
I know hate is equal to murder, but I hate them for what they've done. If I am to be honest about my feelings, I have to admit that. My wife already had depression to deal with and now it's worse. I was turning into an angry man that might have escalated to beating my wife or son in a fit of rage. All because of the emotional abuse I suffered growing up. Yes, I know that what I do (even in anger) is my responsibility and had I beat them, I would be at fault. However, if I had not been abused, I would have known how to deal with my anger more appropriately and it wouldn't have been an issue.
I've been dealing with this for six months now. Throughout it all, I have tried not to speak out against my parents. I was trying not to air the family laundry, so to speak. Last night, after a letter from my aunt ripped it all open again, my wife and I discovered that that thinking is part of the abuse. Keeping silent about it is how it continues.
Now, I want to be through keeping silent. I want to speak out. I want everyone to know what my parents really are. I can't, yet. If I speak out, the backlash hits my wife, who they all think is behind us cutting them off. She's not ready to deal with the onslaught that would follow me publicly calling them out on their abuse. So now, I'm waiting until I can speak out. Doing what I can to speak out against abuse without naming names. I set up an anonymous blog where I am in the process of telling my story with the names changed. You can find it here (EA TRIGGER WARNING). Writing about it has helped me deal with the anger. I'm by no means perfect, but I don't get as angry and I don't get angry as often. I'm finally learning to deal with my emotions instead of walling myself up like I used to do. It is by no means easy, especially when I have no good examples to follow, but I'm working on it.
So that's my story, abbreviated though it may be.
I've been married for almost two years (give me another two weeks and the "almost" can go away). Even before meeting my wife, I would have told you I was a momma's boy. I knew it. I didn't know she, my mother, was abusive and had been for a very long time.
My father is not a very emotional man. He's very closed off and not just to me. He's also very closed off to his wife. She needed the emotional connection and since her husband wasn't providing it, she turned to me. This created an inappropriate bond between us that she used to control me.
At one point, she had turned me against her husband to the point that I was ready to kick him out. The next day she told me that she shouldn't have told me what she had told me to set me off like that and made me feel like crap for feeling that way.
I never knew anything was wrong until I went to college for a year. I had an emotional breakdown just before finals because I didn't want to go home. I didn't realize why at the time, but now I believe it's because I experienced some freedom, some time away from my controlling parents and I didn't want to lose that freedom.
I found out months after going home that my father had planned on forcing my home, physically if necessary. Legally, it would have been kidnapping, since I was 18 at the time.
See, when I went top college, I was no longer under their control. I was able to actually feel freely, without having my emotions twisted, minimized and devalued. As they felt that control slipping away, they got more controlling.
Fast forward a few years to when I started dating (I was 21). My first relationship lasted 3 weeks. When it ended, I told my mother about it and I remember seeing a slight smile on her face when I did. I dismissed that as her being proud of how I was handling the rejection, but now I realize that was just wishful thinking.
When I met my wife I got a new job and had to move out of my parents house. Yes, I was 21 and living at home. Anyway, I moved in near where my wife lived which also was near my job. This was nearly two hours away from my parents.
Things were okay (a loose use of that word) until I proposed. During the engagement period is when I got the first inkling that something was wrong with my parents, but I dismissed it as them getting used to their son getting married. There were claims that they weren't allowed to help (even though we had asked them to help with specific things many times - they declined each time) and attempts to undermine my love for my fiancee (asking me if she was spending my money when we went shopping before I went on vacation with her and her family - technically this happened before I proposed, but it happened).
After we were married it only got worse. There were demands to see them that we couldn't fulfill because I had lost my job and insinuations that my wife was making all the decisions in our marriage (something that we have denied many times and they still believe).
When our son was born, things went from bad to worse. Two weeks after he was born was my birthday. My wife was dealing with postpartum depression and was not healing well so I wasn't able to go to my parents house for my birthday, as they had asked me to. I got a call from my mother who told me, through gritted teeth, that I would go down there and I wouldn't argue about it. I still didn't go because my wife comes before my parents (the whole leave and cleave thing).
The relationship with my parents spiraled downward from there. We canceled our plans to see them on Christmas, because they threw a fit when we wouldn't change our plans. We tried to make up with them right after the new year, but that only lasted until March.
After a nasty fight between myself and my wife, we did some searching to find out why I was so angry. It was then that we discovered that my mother was emotionally abusive. I didn't really accept it until a few days later when we surprised my mother for her birthday. It was the most awkward party I've ever been to and filled with passive aggressive comments and actions.
Then next day, we cut them off. We didn't speak to them again until about three weeks ago when we finally got an apology letter from my mother. We responded saying that we accepted the apology and were sorry for our part in the whole thing and laid out some boundaries for them to follow. Their response was an angry letter that we found out was almost copied out of a self-help book. A self-help book that blames all the in-law problems in a marriage on the daughter in law.
So now, I don't even like calling them my parents. I never want to see them again. They were destroying my marriage and trying to control me. I've lost friends to this. My best friend, whom they call their third son, and his wife have all but declared that they are on my parents side. A friend from my old church (my parents current one) threw scripture at us telling us that we needed to forgive them. My mother's sisters and my cousin have all sent nasty letters, phone calls, emails, etc telling us how we've hurt my parents and we need to forgive and forget (mind you, they were never part of the original problem - my mother cries to them about her problems with us and now her entire family hates my wife whom they have been told made the decision to cut them off).
I know hate is equal to murder, but I hate them for what they've done. If I am to be honest about my feelings, I have to admit that. My wife already had depression to deal with and now it's worse. I was turning into an angry man that might have escalated to beating my wife or son in a fit of rage. All because of the emotional abuse I suffered growing up. Yes, I know that what I do (even in anger) is my responsibility and had I beat them, I would be at fault. However, if I had not been abused, I would have known how to deal with my anger more appropriately and it wouldn't have been an issue.
I've been dealing with this for six months now. Throughout it all, I have tried not to speak out against my parents. I was trying not to air the family laundry, so to speak. Last night, after a letter from my aunt ripped it all open again, my wife and I discovered that that thinking is part of the abuse. Keeping silent about it is how it continues.
Now, I want to be through keeping silent. I want to speak out. I want everyone to know what my parents really are. I can't, yet. If I speak out, the backlash hits my wife, who they all think is behind us cutting them off. She's not ready to deal with the onslaught that would follow me publicly calling them out on their abuse. So now, I'm waiting until I can speak out. Doing what I can to speak out against abuse without naming names. I set up an anonymous blog where I am in the process of telling my story with the names changed. You can find it here (EA TRIGGER WARNING). Writing about it has helped me deal with the anger. I'm by no means perfect, but I don't get as angry and I don't get angry as often. I'm finally learning to deal with my emotions instead of walling myself up like I used to do. It is by no means easy, especially when I have no good examples to follow, but I'm working on it.
So that's my story, abbreviated though it may be.
