A Post-Rock Bottom Update: Working Towards Forgiving My Abusers
(CW: emotional/physical abuse, sexual abuse/trauma, racism)
For those who follow me, you may recall my recent meeting with emotional rock bottom. In short, rather than continue to view him as some sort of innocent damsel in distress, I came to accept my son’s part and culpability in the ongoing cycle of abuse that led me to that point, which recently have included some very familiar patterns such as:
- passive-aggressive emotional attacks on my character, motives, ethics, etc.
- victim blaming.
- keeping important parts of his life separate from me, including partners and a mental health scare.
While this is heartbreaking in and of itself, it certainly hasn’t been helped by his NPD-addled mother nor my unsupportive and largely absent family. I talk more about the circumstances of how I became homeless here, but sadly, this isn’t the first time this man bullied me out onto the streets with my mom still sleeping by his side.
It’s all good because it’s not personal; she did the same thing to her own brother over forty years ago when asked “him or me,” only this time it was for another white man, that one being my father.
It’s a pattern.
Escaping White Conservative Toxicity
I’ve been on my own healing journey for 7–8 years, and during that time, I’ve learned so much about myself. My autism diagnosis in May 2023 was huge, and explained so much about why I experienced the world around me like I do.
I see now and recognize that my divorced parents and their respective partners are emotionally stunted people, locked in their own insanely toxic patterns, and that in order for me to find peace, I need to be able to forgive them.
When given space, the crushing anger I have held towards them is one I know I can purge over time, as I had done it before. My childhood had multiple grown boogeyfolks who all wanted something different from me, and there were times that it would feel like I was speaking someone else’s mind, all in an effort to keep the peace/make myself small/seem smart/etc.
“You’re Resourceful…”
I still get cross-eyed when I read one of the last phrases my little brother, home owner, told me when saying I could not stay with him after informing him of our mom’s husband bullying me out onto the streets a second time.
He was holding onto a few of my possessions after I lost my place. A few weeks after he said that, I dropped by to pick up a tent unannounced. I was still angry and hurt, so I didn’t say much as I stormed in and grabbed my tent, then left. His partner babbled something about a previous arrangement, which I laughed off considering the circumstances, then jumped in my car and left right after.
We haven’t spoken since and I don’t plan on it because it’s always been pay-to-play with this guy, who our family has always given preferential treatment to in the form of car loans, financial advice, tools, etc. He recognizes the disparity, but still actively participates in and benefits from it.
This would not be a person I would hang out with if they were not related, and I wonder why we continually expose ourselves to toxic people over and over again, to our detriment? There’s other reasons that involve him SA’ing me when I was 8, and him later picking a partner who looks very much like me, but that’s also part of the huge gulf that separates me from forgiveness for him just yet.
I will get there; I always do, and I’m working on it.
Where I’m At with My Baby Mom and My Son
I have spent the last couple of years being incredibly angry at my narc(issistic/NPD) baby mom. I made the choice to go no-contact back around June 2023, with one of the final aggravating events being the willful and malicious withholding of a package a now former partner from Canada had sent me.
A few months after being blocked, she had employed a bestie to text me a message, supposedly from our son who had just had a mental health scare, saying I “should move” and to “never contact [him] again”. The bestie was blocked shortly after.
When my son and I met up in October around my birthday, he never confirmed, denied, or even mentioned the content of the message nor did I ask, for fear of aggravating what had been an emotionally tenable subject in the past. Previously, any seemingly critical mention of the other adults in his life would trigger a strong emotional response and I didn’t want to upset him.
…the texts have slowed and then completely dried up since then.
The last message I sent him was on the night I hit bottom, letting him know that I will always love him no matter what. I was a doting father, with an unsupportive narc for a partner, whose entire identity in that regard was ripped away from him by a group of unhealed people, all presenting false versions of themselves.
The very essence of my rage.
Once I accepted my helplessness, it became easier to begin forgiving. Today was the first day I thought of my baby mom and I didn’t want to crush her like a bug. The thought of my previous level of anger towards her alarmed me actually, but that’s the other part of my therapy I’m working on: self-love, especially forgiving my past self, because I was always trying my best, like I am now, regardless of whatever my baby mom or anyone else talking trash may say.
I hope someday that my son and I can be close again, like we were before. I have faith one day that we will.
