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To my own Mother
You took my self respect. You used your power to kill what was there. You used fear and brutality to create not what you saw but what you needed. You turned off my light and replaced me with a vessel designed to meet your needs. You rejected those parts of me that you deemed unfit, undesirable - Sadness, jealousy, rage, fear. You created a shell, a new version of the child whose sole purpose was to be good, to fit your own needs, to reflect what you needed rather than what was there… a human boy, that should have been loved for who he was. After that, you lived in his head, you took up a permanent position there of judge and executioner should he ever transgress. And the punisher loomed all his life with a brutal temper that would kill him if he did not obey. And it did kill him, every day, almost in every moment. There was constant terror, mortal terror of non-conformity. There was depression and deep sadness and self-loathing when a crime of failure or non-conformity was committed. There came a desperate pressure to be good, to not fall behind. The poor child lived through the prism of everyone else, his individuality and independence was lost entirely. He was deeply deeply separated from himself, from his true self which was lost at the bottom of the ocean too terrified to come out for fear of abuse, of punishment. So every effort, every waking moment was about satisfying that demon ogre in his head, in his soul. That poor beautiful little baby boy was utterly rejected, humiliated, broken… and in the end replaced entirely. He was offered up and slaughtered by his mother for her own ends, her own unconscious needs that no doubt came from her own mother. What chance did he have? His new identity was forged in fear, terror and abuse yet his abusers told him he must be happy. And punished himself his whole life when he was not happy. Any happiness he could muster was for others and any unhappiness was brutally punished by his now dominant inner judge. This poor shell of a person roamed the earth surrounded by others but was utterly alone, utterly abandoned. Lost to his own true self. It was not his fault, what chance did he have against such overwhelming power to which he was completely dependent for love and survival. 40 years of torment and only now does he start see the damage, the truth.
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