Part of what makes my pain valid is remembering my mother as the monster in my memories.
But to be honest she hasn't laid hands on me since last year - which was before she began medication and therapy for Depressive Psychosis. And before that her physical abuse was never frequent. I could probably count all the times she laid her hands on me with my fingers. But it was just enough for me to always fear her. The look of disgust and anger that were in her eyes is permanently tattooed in my memory, and I haven't been able to look into her eyes since.
I've learnt that the hardest part of my experience is actually trying to heal. I went on a small trip to Sydney with a friend a few months ago. Sydney isn't that much different from Melbourne, so I still felt at home. But we went out for dinner, caught up with friends, explored the city. Even though the lifestyle I was living in Sydney hadn't changed compared to how I live in Melbourne, I felt safe. I realised that I'd been living everyday not fully knowing what safety really felt like - if my mother walked into the same room as me, I'd be out the other. If my mother was in the house I would lock the door behind me before I take my shower. That disruption made me go through a level of depression I'd never experienced before. If I couldn't cope with the feeling of safety after a few days, how am i going to cope when I move out permanently?
Seeing a side of her that is more calm and happy is both shocking and confusing, because I don't know how to react in those situations. I had learnt early on to always feel a current of fear running through the house. Being in the house alone with her I would always analyse my escape routes, keep my valuables at hand, and make sure I choose my words and movements very carefully. Now, my brain tells me it's okay to let my guard down, but my experiences tell me I know better than to take those kinds of risks.
The tricky aspect of having a psychotic mother is that I am able to acknowledge that my feelings are valid - that I feel anger, and pain, and sadness. But if my mother wasn't psychotic would she have treated me the same? Seeing her grow into a more patient person has forced me to confront this question. I think this change has started to take an effect on my father as well. He keeps snapping at her more frequently, as if to continue painting her as this aggressive being that she used to be. But the world isn't as black and white as I hope for it to be, I can't simply categorise all my feelings into the 'hate box', and realising you can hate a person you love, or love a person you hate, is the most conflicting feeling of all.
Trying to acknowledge that my mother is becoming a better version of herself is hard to accept. And despite seeing the changes her journey still isn't over. Psychosis isn't a mental illness that goes away after a few months; it will take years to recover. The damage has been done; whether she would have treated me the same or not if she wasn't psychotic can't lessen the pain I went through. Maybe what i'm really trying to look for is an apology. If she is able to be kinder and calmer, does that mean she knows how to feel guilt? or does she still stand by her actions? I hope one day these questions will get answered, because even though holding onto my pain ironically provides as a safety blanket I also know that it's time for me to learn how to let go.
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