Hi. So I put a really long post up on the physical/emotional abuse support group and then I was referred to this group. I hope it would be okay for me to just copy/paste what I wrote, as it was really hard for me to write it in the first place and writing something over again might be even harder. Thank you, Lucy, for letting me know this group is here. I've been struggling with emotional abuse my whole life. My mother was the abuser, and my father abandoned me when I was fourteen.

"I'm twenty one, and because of my anxiety and depression I still live with my mother. It's a long story, but right now I'm working to get disability to get out of this house. My mother is the one who is emotionally abusive, and also financially abusive, but I didn't see a forum for that here.

The first instance of abuse (that I remember) was actually when I was anywhere from five to eight years old. I was playing with my pet cat and somehow she ended up getting shut away in a linen closet or something. I hadn't done it on purpose, but we went out and I'd simply forgotten about her. My mom found out and decided that I needed to be punished, so she locked me in a closet.

For a long time I thought this punishment was acceptable and completely understandable. I had done something bad - although I really didn't do it on purpose - and I got a punishment of the same kind. It didn't occur to me that I would go on to be afraid of the dark because of this instance, even into my adult life, and it didn't occur to me how much it would hurt fifteen-ish years later when I realized this punishment was neither acceptable nor understandable. When I asked my mom why she did it, and let her know it was affecting me to this day, she said, "Well you never locked a cat in the linen closet again, did you?" It made me feel worse, because she seemed to think she had curbed some terrible behavior of mine and she was justified. I love animals - I would never purposefully hurt them and I haven't done anything so careless since because I'm not the sort of person who wants that to happen. It had nothing to do with the punishment at all.

My mother was physically abusive some other times in my life, I would get slapped but where I live it's kind of a grey area to slap your kids - not illegal, but at this point frowned upon to the best of my knowledge. I think when I was growing up the laws were changing or something, but there was definitely the belief in my household that I was lucky that my father never hit me and I was lucky that my mother only sometimes hit me - as if it wasn't my human right not to be hit, but these people should be proud that the didn't hit me, in my mother's case, very often.

When I was a little older, perhaps ten, I was experiencing depression so I would harm myself by hitting myself on the head. My mom would laugh and would encourage others to laugh with her, and then I would hit myself harder until I got headaches, and eventually I caused frontal lobe damage for hitting myself for 5+ years. Two years earlier, I had attempted to commit suicide. I was eight years old, and neither my mother nor my father thought it was appropriate to get me to a therapist even though I was displaying self-harmful behavior. I would also infrequently threaten to kill myself with knives, until all the sharp objects needed to be hidden. Still, I wasn't taken to therapy.

Not until everything blew up when I was fourteen, and it was impossible to ignore. My mom took me to a therapist and my father left my life soon afterward. I eventually went to a psychiatrist, and they made me take medications. Some people know it's not always a good idea to give children medication like anti-depressants because their brain isn't fully developed, but for some reason that's all my mother wanted to do. She would threaten me, tell me she'd take me to the hospital if I didn't take them, but they were making me feel bad and I wasn't feeling like myself at all. With the medicines, I was angry and depressed all the time. I'd been depressed before trying them, but never so angry. I'd been able to function before them, and all of the sudden I wasn't able to function. But I had to take them, because if I didn't I would be sent to the hospital.

Things got worse even with the medicine. I couldn't go to school, so I tried alternatives until I got to my sophomore year and simply stopped. Eventually the school didn't do anything about it, even though they'd been really hard to deal with before. During the time my mother quit her job, she said to take care of me and this was for two years while my grandmother supported us, she became very dependent on me. I was no longer my own person, it was "we" and "us". This time is very hard for me to recall because of my medicine, but I know I was made to feel like a monster while my mother was a saint. And I really did believe that.

How could a mother be wrong if she "devoted her life" to me? I soon realized this statement wasn't true, but oftentimes when mom was feeling stressed she would say I had to behave because she had "devoted her life to (me)", and that it was my fault she didn't have a job, my fault we couldn't buy extra things, my fault for everything negative that ever happened because she had "devoted her life to (me)". Yes, I appreciate that she helped me. I do appreciate it. But I don't appreciate the cruelty I received because of it, and honestly, devoting one's life to someone else doesn't just mean stopping work for two/three years to be half helpful and half cruel, I thank her for her part in my healing, but I don't think she devoted her life to me, and I don't think she should blame me for quitting her job. It was her decision.

A couple years ago I tried to go to college. It didn't pan out, but I did meet a man who was equally as abusive as my mother. We dated, and the only good thing that came out of our relationship was a seed planted in me - my mother wasn't right, our relationship wasn't right, and I was with a man who treated me just like she did. We broke up eventually, but he did say one thing to me that made me break down in a good way, he said, "I see why you say you're mother's hard to live with. I thought she was so nice when we first met; I thought you were lying. But now I know you're not. She really is awful."

Nobody had ever said that. As a child, and even in adulthood, I told people about how I felt. About how my mother was. But she wore a mask that nobody could penetrate, unless they had the misfortune of living with her. So I went to my sister, who had lived with her, and I found out I wasn't alone. My sister was much more independent and went straight to college, and moved to her own home even before she graduated, but she told me our mother made her take out student loans (in my sister's name, because my mother has bad credit. The bad credit thing is important for later.) not just for her own debts, but for mom's rent and other bills. When you're a young person, eighteen - twenty - two and even older, it's hard to say no to your mom when she's saying she and your little sister are going to be out in the cold if you don't help out. My sister claims my mother paid her student loans for awhile but never paid for all the money she had my sister take out. My mother also promised she'd pay my sister's student loans regardless, but she didn't. Luckily, my sister earns enough to take care of it herself, but she's struggling because of the money our mother took out for rent. The two don't have a close relationship, either, which is also important for later.

So my mother began to ask me to help her. First, it was with the television. I was barely eighteen and still living at home, I was a senior in high school and the idea of no t.v. horrified me. I let her use my name and my ssn for that. She still has a balance on that, but I wouldn't realize that for a couple years. So when she asked me to put my name in for the gas and electric company, I helped her out. Now, two years later there is over $500 owed to the company. My mom still expects to get deposit check (I don't know how this works, if they will use it for the balance or if they have to give it back) but if I (since it's under my name) do get a deposit check, I wish I could tell her that she can't have it, that it's going to paying off the balance, or I just hope they take it and use it for that so I don't have to tell her.

Between the time I turned eighteen to right now, my mother asked me to take out six different credit cards. One of them was used to help me prepare for college, but I eventually left due to anxiety and depression so it was kind of a waste. The other five were used for my mother; to decorate her house (our house, but it really does feel like her house), to buy dishes and silverware, to buy cups, to buy clothes, the list just goes on and on.

I have a difficult time saying no to my mother. Like my sister before me, it's hard to say no when your mom has something over you. This time she gives me a place to live and the clothes on my back. While I have foodstamps, I know this wouldn't be enough. I feel very fortunate that with my anxiety, and depression, and inability to get a job right now, I have a place to live until I can get disability. I feel very fortunate. But I don't think that gives my mother the right to take advantage of me financially, to ruin my credit, and to emotionally abuse me.

I know this is getting long, but I haven't really been able to discuss this with anyone. My mom has gotten a new job within the past two months and things have gotten even worse. I went from thinking she was the saint and I'm the monster to wondering if maybe this wasn't all my fault, to realizing she wasn't trying whatsoever, and she was abusive. Because my mother says I cannot live with her unless I'm on anti depressants, I got on an anti depressant that has very little effect on me - the rest make me angry and even more depressed and right now I'm looking for holistic treatments - it's called paxil, and at a low dose I feel like myself again, but it really doesn't help my depression. Anyway, I am on that, and so I've been able to be kinder to people, to think before I act, and to be an all around better person. For the past year I've been the best person I can be, at least without therapy and a medicine that works (I'm getting insurance in 2014, luckily!) and everyone's noticed how much I've changed and everyone seems happy. Even my mother commented on it, and she said she felt like she had her old (nickname) back!

But the problem is, she hasn't changed and the stress of her new job and my new found awareness has made things very much worse for me. I've realized that I really haven't been a monster all those years. I'
ve felt trapped and taken advantage of, and the truth of it is; I was. I have two poor parents - my father left me as soon as I got into therapy leaving a void in my life that I'm still battling, and my mother makes me feel terrible.

This part is very difficult for me, and if asked about a specific situation I will go into detail, but here's how my mother's been emotionally abusive to me, without getting myself too sad.

- She is very co-dependent on me, and I'm not even "me" anymore. I'm "we" when she's talking. My food stamps aren't mine (although they are in my name and what very little independence from mom I have), they are "ours". My credit cards aren't mine, they're "ours", and if I even talk about eventually moving out, we go on a guilt trip until I feel like a monster for suggesting it even though I'm twenty one, getting disability sooner or later, and it's to be expected.

- She doesn't notice or care how I feel. She says things like, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but..." And every time something she does upsets me, it's not her fault whatsoever. In fact, she's actually said that everything wrong in our relationship is my fault, because she tries her best. Despite the fact that not six months ago she was excited at having me back to my old self.

- She has given me and continues to give me the silent treatment. She knows how it hurts me, because I'm very reclusive and there are few people I can or want to talk to. She's one of them, and so when she gives me the silent treatment until I apologize and say everything I've done is wrong (whether I believe it or not), it's painful.

- When I was a teenager she would tell everyone about my bad behavior and get sympathy from them. She still uses instances of when I behaved badly under medicines I was forced to take as a child to make my family think I'm the bad guy, and so when I talk to them (all except my sister, who's actually lived with her when she was an adult) about mom's behavior they say things like "oh, be nice" and such.

- She publicly (like at family get togethers, that's how public I get, besides grocery shopping or whatever) shames me and makes a joke out of me every time we go to family get togethers, and sometimes even at grocery stores.

- When I told her I wanted to go to a women's shelter she said I was "selfish" and that those places are for women who are abused, not women who just want to get away from their mothers. I ended up not going because I felt so badly.

- She often puts words in my mouth, and this may sound like no big deal but she puts words in my mouth to cause arguments. Like a few days ago, I asked to get take out. Since I live with my mother I cook, clean, and do basically all the chores around the house so I don't feel like I'm not helping out, and she pays the bills. She yelled at me and said "You're trying to get me to make you dinner and I've worked all day!" Things like this happen all the time, and while they may seem just bizarre, if I disagree with her she gets really mad, so it's even worse. She's not validating or listening to my words, and so she just starts making them up.

- Every time something happens to her, it's not her fault. Not even only with me, but sometimes with others. For example, her new boss was angry that my mom was gossiping about her. My mom said if the boss wasn't so mean, she wouldn't have gossiped. So everything is always the other person's fault, really no matter what. And I live with this person who is "always right" in her mind, so it's really difficult most of the time.

She does a lot more things, but I'm getting emotional writing them down. And I'm not even sure if I'm doing this support group post right, or if I've said something wrong, but I just don't want to be alone in this anymore. I can't do it on my own. I tried to go to a place that help abused women but they said they wouldn't help me because my mother's not violent. She is violent, I mean just last night she threw a remote at me, but she's not violent in the way they think constitutes physical abuse. I've put in a request for information regarding places that help the emotionally abused, because I haven't been able to find any in my area. The domestic violence place also took issue with my
having anxiety and depression, and before they knew it was emotional abuse they told me if they feel my anxiety and depression is too much they'll refer me to a mental health specialist. It really got me down because I thought I was finally going to get help, and it really felt to me they were saying, "Your anxiety and depression is a problem, and if it becomes too much of one we won't see you. Oh, wait, we won't see you actually because it's /just/ emotional abuse, and we only see people who are physically abused, and we don't consider you to be physically abused." I guess it was the last straw, and why I decided to come here.

I'm sorry if this is too long or if I've just posted too much, but thank you anyone who reads this novel-sized post! "