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I suddenly, unexpectedly want to give my abusive parent another chance. I don't know why, or what triggered this - I guess I've just been going through a hard time and I don't have *any* parents, and I really want my mom right now. And I friggen called her.

And she apologized? Kind of?? She couldn't say, directly, the word 'abuse' - but she said explicitly that she was a bad mother, that none of it was my fault. She says she knows she made me feel that way. She did kind of do the 'woe is me my life was h a r d' thing but then followed with, "but that doesn't excuse it."

She still blames my older adult sisters for nothing, though, and is still accusing them of 'not being supportive' enough at a time where she was constantly lashing out at them. So the call ended abruptly. I hung up at that point, because she did that before and she started sounding the exact same way she used to. Even said things like "I can't be y'alls punching bag anymore" which really ticked me off because I mean,,,, she was nobody's punching bag. But guess who was??? Us. Me especially, considering I lived with her

I gave into the impulse to text her today after the call two days ago asking if she would be willing to try to have some semblance of a relationship with me, and instead of being bitter like I expected, she says she loves me and that she would "do whatever it takes". And now suddenly my sad feelings of missing her are gone and I'm panicking, because I mean... Having a REAL relationship with her would mean letting a lot of protective walls down. Walls that keep me safe. And I've done so much to be where I am today. I've done so much to get this far. I'm not dumb enough to think I could handle it if she swoops in one day out of nowhere like I'm used to and does all the things she did. I already have PTSD from her. And that's a diagnosis now. I can't get close to her and be on my guard at the same time. I would get hopeful and if she's really not the same it's going to crush so. much. work. And it's going to hurt. And things are going to come back. Things that I GOT AWAY from. And I'm terrified it won't just mess with my PTSD. What if it messes with the work I've done to make myself a better person? I had to change everything about myself and the way I acted. She didn't lose custody until I was 14 and if it weren't for my foster mom, for my therapists and for everyone that came together to help me I would have ended up so much like her it's not even funny. And I'm scared of getting close to her and it triggering that again. Like what if it just sets me back YEARS? What if I snap one day and get borderline too? What if my brain can only take so much, and it just breaks or triggers something in me?

But on the flip side if I never talk to her again I'm still going to miss her, I'm still going to ache over it. I'm still going to wonder if she had changed. If there was a chance.

My older sister, who I'm living with now, says she's been through this all before and that mom is good at sounding like she's really changed and genuinely understands. But every single time, it's a let down. I'm 18, my sister is 40, she's dealt with it for the majority of her life. She's usually never wrong.

But I want my mom. But I absolutely do not want my mom, because it could literally ruin everything. I don't want that hurt. But I want my mom.

What do I do? Do I just text her back and tell her I changed my mind? And live with wondering if she HAD changed, and wondering if things could have worked out, for the rest of my life?

Or do I give her another chance and risk worse flashbacks and more fights with her? What if she snaps and then it's harder for me to heal, and stuff gets digged up that brings me back to that time in my life?

How is anybody supposed to make this decision?

I'm starting to understand how much the past seeps in to my day to day life. I keep remembering things, and I remembered how much I used to loathe myself. And then I started thinking about my inner child and just started ripping her apart. Now I'm here, after crying and some research, realizing where that comes from. I mean, I knew that before. But jesus. You inner child is literally inside of you and listening to you all the time, aren't they?

Anyways, I decided to write her (still feels weird) kind of an apology letter and I'm trying to connect with little me so I can heal and understand what's going on. This came out, and I might be a little numb right now but it did make something inside of me go !!! and my eyes welled up because I've wanted to hear and feel these things. She did. I did. It's still so weird but this felt really good and I thought it might help someone else:

Hey, kiddo.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I haven't been there for you enough. I've been ignoring you, and thinking horrible, not –okay things about you. And they aren't true. I know this is really hard to believe at this point, especially coming from me. But they aren't true.

And I'm sorry you're hurting. I can feel you. I know you're in there somewhere, and I know it hurts. I know you feel alone and very, very sad. You feel a lot of things you don't deserve.
I'm going to say this to you again.

It wasn't your fault.

None of it. Mom shouldn't have hit you. She shouldn't have said any of those things to you. NOTHING you ever did or could do justifies what she did. You were being abused, honey. And I'm sorry. You didn't know it, but you were being abused, and it hurts extra hard because it was Mom. And I know how much you still love her, even after all this time.

You and I are two pieces of the same puzzle. We're half and half. You're not a child anymore – you're an inner child. And I'm the adult that you became, and whether I know it or not, you're always still there. It's a weird situation and it's something I'm still trying to understand. I am you. You are me. I'm one person but you're a part of me. You're the part of my brain that still feels and lives in the past – you're the little girl that I used to be.

And whether Mom knew it or not, she raised me to hate you. She raised you to hate you. She knew exactly what she had to say to hurt in just the right spots. She attacked the things you made, what you were excited about, what you looked forward to. She knew how to rip apart everything you cared about and make it feel like it was your fault. And eventually you started doing a lot of that ripping on your own, to punish yourself.

So now you have this big, painful hole. And it swallows you up inside. You and I can still feel the magic things about life. We still have a little bit of that, trying to survive, and we're trying to bring back that sense of wonder. But it's hard, isn't it? Because now we're both depressed. I feel you hurting, and I treat you just like she treated you. And I'm sorry.

I shouldn't punish you for feeling what you feel after what she did, and how much it hurts. For not being the way you could be if that hadn't have happened to you. I'm sorry I've been ignoring you.

It's my job, as the adult you, to take care of you now. Because Mom didn't. That means when I feel you hurting, I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to guide you through. I'm going to be kind.

I wish you could manifest in front of me so I could wrap my arms around you. I know that's what you wanted. What you needed. Someone who could understand completely, who could hold you and take care of you. Help you feel better and happy and grow. I'm realizing as I write this that you felt selfish for wanting this. It wasn't selfish. You were a child.

That shouldn't have EVER felt like a "want". That was a need. You needed that, and you were robbed of it.

If you were a physical little girl in front of me I could hug you and apologize in person. I could make you feel safe. And no one would ever touch you. No one could hurt you under my watch. I would be your guardian.

But maybe I don't need you here, physically in front of me, to do that. To take care of you. To love you like you deserve to be loved. To protect you from things that could harm you. To guide you through all the hurt and trauma that's been inflicted on you. To hold you in my arms when you're hurting and you need someone to hold you.

You are a part of me. You are a real, genuine part of me and I'm seeing that now.

So I'm going to do what she couldn't do for you. I'm going to take care of you. And we're going to get through this, you and I.
I will protect you. I won't put you in situations that are dangerous. I'm cutting you off, permanently, from Mom and Dad – and I know that stings a little sometimes, but at this point we both know it's for the best, don't we? Same goes for anyone who shares their traits. I need you to understand this: no one is going to put their hands on you ever again. And no one is ever going to get away with saying the type of * they said to you, okay? You are not going through that kind of abuse ever again. I won't let it happen.

I will love you. That inner critic that echoes off mom? That's another person I'm cutting off from you. I'll f****** fight that thing. There's not one thing wrong with you. You're honestly pretty impressive. It's impressive you've survived, with this much love and goodness intact. Hate and spite haven't twisted you yet. You're strong as *, you've held your own like *. Jesus Christ, kid, there's nothing wrong with you, you're incredible. And you were an innocent, kind, loving, incredible little girl. And the things you did and made were NOT WORTHLESS!!! They've evolved into pretty big impressive things. YOU are impressive, and good and kind, and I love you, okay? I love you and I'm sorry you haven't felt that enough.

I will comfort you. I'll hold you when you need to cry. I'll acknowledge you when I feel you come out. I'll guide you through the works. I'll be here for you when you need to talk, or you feel like something's off. On bad days, you can cry it out if you need to, and then I'll make you some tea or something and we can sit in bed and read or watch something funny.

I will stand up for you. I will raise you, and teach you and guide you.

I'm your guardian now, okay? I'm your parent now. You need me, and I see that now. And I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. But now I'm here. And things might be shaky and weird at first. It might be kind of strange or weird. But I'm going to figure it out. And I'm letting you in. And we're gonna get through this. Together.

https://psychcentral.com/lib/affect-dysregulation-and-c-ptsd/


"These emotional outbursts can be terrifying both for the victim and anyone else present, lasting anywhere from seconds to a few hours"

"...people suffering from affect dysregulation typically do not experience these strong emotions as 'fear', 'anger' or the like, but rather experience an overwhelming and unbearable sense of raw pain."

"The aftermath of such outbursts often leaves the victim feeling ashamed, guilty and consumed with self-loathing."

"The root cause of these problems is that the the recipients of complex trauma don't go through the same process of learning to cope with emotions that those who grow up in stable, healthy environments pass through."

Reading this was incredible. This is it. This is the thing I do. This is why I would blow up so much.

I'm finally in the perfect place right now. I'm living with someone I can fully trust beyond a shadow of a doubt, and there's no tension in the house. I'm comfortable being outside of my bedroom. But I keep thinking about this. It's bothering me. What if I blow up again?

I don't think it's likely, and I know it's in my control if I handle them correctly, but if anyone has any advice for handling these intense feelings please fill me in.

I remember reading something about this but I don't remember exactly how or why this can happen.

Basically, things are * right now and I'm oddly calm and rational. I know below the surface or something that this is scary, and I do feel a bit scared sometimes. So far though the only emotion that's really come out has been how I feel about moving away from my boyfriend, and even that comes in waves.

Basically, I'm finally moving away from my dad. My sister is helping me. We had this huge fight this week that put up a few more red flags for me, and I haven't come home since. He isn't trying to force me to come back because I'm two months away from being 18.

I lived with my abusive mom until I was twelve and met him around three years ago. He got me out of foster care. Things were supposed to be different. He was the last parent I had left, and it's turned out that he's also toxic and weird.

I feel nothing about that. Just nothing. I don't even know how I managed to find a place to stay with a friend. Normally I would be afraid of that, but I just straight up sent him a text at school with "I'm not coming home" and when he responded okaying it I just found some place to stay. How did I do that? What should I do about this?

I feel off and removed and I don't wanna try to change that, but is this gonna come out and punch me in the stomach later when I don't expect it? Should I be worried? I think this has happened before and I want to be prepared

There are some things I haven't gotten the chance to ask that I've been wanting to ask for a long, long time.

Can mentally/physically abused children act younger than they are? Can children on mood altering meds also experience that if they don't need that medication?

Why was I such a difficult kid? I threw a LOT of tantrums. Is it possible that I started off like that and then mom started being abusive or maybe she was abusive first and that kinda messed me up? I remember some things she did when I was little but they seem to have gotten more frequent as I got older. Or do children really just learn from their parents?

Is it OKAY for me to say that I learned my behavioural issues I had as a kid from my mom or is that being irresponsible?

When I was a pre teen I hit first sometimes. I yelled at her, and freaked out. Why? Is that because I was being abused? If I was abused why was I able to look her in the face and call her out for it? I wasn't always meek and quiet. I fought back, and sometimes I lost my * and yelled/hit/threw things first. Is that understandable? Do I get to excuse myself from that? And why was I able to call her out?

I had some weird episodes during the last year I spent with her, which was in 2014. I didn't hurt anyone, they were just really weird. One hit me when I was home alone and I got so scared of it I called the police. My brain felt... Fuzzy, and off? I realized I didn't feel "real" and I started repeating that over and over. I paced around the house, walked outside. I think I was smiling/laughing at one point?? It's never happened since. What was that? Could it have been because of stress/trauma? I was 12/13. This and the next one I really want to know because it was WEIRD. Like stereotypical asylum patient weird.

Another was during a fight and my brain kinda snapped like that time but not in the same way. For some reason I thought if my mom wouldn't accept/believe my apology I would try to "speak to her" by making some kind of art thing with it (she was an artist). I put up post it notes around the house with stuff that she said that were "right" (i.e 'I leave my dirty clothes everywhere' over a pile of clothes). I also wrote the things she called me that I believed I was on my face and waited for her to get back. Obviously it backfired like *. What the actual f was wrong with me? Why did I think that would work and why did I do such a weird thing? Has anyone else done anythinf weird like that, is that normal? Was I insane?

Why can I only remember parts of fights and why are they so fuzzy sometimes? What if I'm remembering things wrong?

My mom never left many marks on me either. I only remember her doing it twice, and once was when was during a huge fight when I was yelling at her. I had something in my hand so I could give her a piece of my mind without her hitting me. I don't remember saying anything bad, and I'm pretty sure I was just yelling about how frustrated I was at her for keeping me from my sisters. She grabbed it and got my diaphragm and my inner elbow and it left a mark, but even then it was just a tiny cut on my inner elbow. It was bad enough, I won't describe it but I did lose my breath. Was she justified?

What if I abused her? And how do I know that I didn't for sure? What if I really was an awful child and I drove her up the wall? I don't really fully believe that and I'm usually not confused enough to question it but the uncertainty makes me nervous