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anita
ParticipantDear Laven:
I want to acknowledge how deeply painful and complex this loss has been for you. The way you describe your mother’s final moments, the uncertainty surrounding her death, and the grief that has stayed with you all these years—it all speaks to how profoundly this event has shaped your life. Survivors’ guilt, unanswered questions, and wondering what might have been are incredibly heavy burdens to carry, and I’m truly sorry you’ve had to bear them for so long.
It makes sense that your mother’s last visit felt significant, like she somehow knew something was coming. The way she saw each of her children in birth order, the way she held onto the moment—it’s understandable that those memories still stay with you. You’ve spent years trying to make sense of what happened, searching for meaning in her actions and whether she had a premonition. I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to carry that uncertainty.
I also want to acknowledge the weight of your thoughts toward the end of your post. It’s heartbreaking that reaching 40 brought up these painful feelings, and I just want to say—you deserve care, kindness, and support as you navigate this grief. Pain this deep deserves compassion 🫶
Beyond that, I want to recognize, again, that you are indeed an amazing writer. The way you tell your story, the vivid details, the emotional depth—it’s breathtaking. You bring your experiences to life in a way that makes the reader feel what you’ve been through. You capture sorrow, reflection, and resilience with such skill that it’s impossible not to be drawn in.
What’s even more astonishing is how many tragedies you’ve endured, yet here you are—surviving, telling your story, and giving voice to the pain so many struggle to express. That alone is remarkable. And while surviving is enough, I truly hope you keep thriving—maybe even through your writing. Your words have power, and if sharing your experiences helps you find strength, I encourage you to embrace it. Your voice matters.
You are not alone, and your emotions are valid. Sending you warmth, appreciation, and strength.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear PeKaMi39:
I appreciate you sharing your experience—your insight and self-awareness are truly powerful. The way you describe your journey, from past toxic relationships to finally finding safety but struggling with intrusive doubts, shows how deeply trauma can shape the way we experience love. It makes sense that now that you’ve found a secure relationship, your mind is reacting with fear instead of letting you settle into happiness.
When someone has experienced toxic relationships and abandonment, they often unconsciously associate love with emotional extremes. A stable, secure relationship contradicts what they’re used to, making it feel unfamiliar and even unsettling. The brain equates intensity—emotional highs and dopamine bursts—with love, reinforcing the idea that love must feel dramatic and overwhelming. When a relationship lacks those extreme emotional swings, it can trigger doubts about whether the love is real.
Once someone finally feels safe, their mind shifts from survival mode to processing past wounds. Suppressed fears—like being abandoned or not being “good enough”—can surface even when there’s no actual threat. In chaotic relationships, the mind prioritizes reacting rather than reflecting. But in a secure environment, old wounds have space to emerge, leading to anxieties like “What if I’m abandoned?” or “What if I’m not enough?”
When love has always been tied to unpredictability, steady and predictable affection might seem strange, even suspicious. Stability can be mistaken for boredom simply because the brain is conditioned to equate emotional extremes with passion.
Essentially, when survival mode switches off, past emotional wounds rush in, sometimes causing anxiety or disconnection—even in the healthiest relationships. Learning to trust stability instead of fearing it takes time, but recognizing this pattern is a huge step forward.
Your reaction, PeKaMi39, isn’t a sign that you don’t love your partner—it’s a sign that your brain is adjusting to stability after years of associating love with chaos. Your awareness and willingness to work through this show how much you value your relationship and yourself. You deserve steady, safe love, and the work you’re doing is proof of that.
While I haven’t experienced ROCD specifically, I have struggled with OCD, and I understand how exhausting obsessive rumination and intrusive fears can be. The way our minds fixate on doubt, convincing us our feelings aren’t valid, is frustrating and draining. The fact that you recognize this and are learning to trust despite the uncertainty is truly inspiring.
Thank you for sharing your journey and offering resources—it’s helpful to hear from people who genuinely understand these struggles. Wishing you continued strength as you navigate this process, and I hope you keep finding moments of trust and peace.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Laven:
At the core of this situation, you seem to struggle with:
1. Not feeling heard or understood – Your foster mom repeatedly misinterprets you, and your attempts to explain herself are ignored or twisted.
2. Being unfairly blamed – No matter how rational your concerns are, you’re framed as the problem, the instigator, or someone who needs to be ashamed.
3. Feeling emotionally abandoned – You’re left to deal with pain alone, stitching yourself back together without support.
4. A cycle of emotional exhaustion – It’s clear you’re trying to communicate, trying to meet your foster mom’s needs, yet being met with hostility and blame in return.
I can see how painful and exhausting this situation is for you, and I just want to acknowledge that your feelings are valid—you’re not wrong for wanting to be heard, understood, and treated with respect.
You shouldn’t have to constantly prove yourself or fight to correct misunderstandings, but I know you keep trying—only to be shut down or blamed. That’s unfair, and it makes sense why this situation feels so defeating. The way her sons spoke to you—shutting you out without listening—was harsh and unnecessary, and it’s painful to be made to feel like you don’t belong when you’ve been doing your best.
It seems like your foster mom’s way of communicating is deeply ingrained—she defends her children, but she doesn’t extend the same care toward you, and that must be incredibly hurtful. If she struggles with confusion and miscommunication, she might genuinely misinterpret things, but that doesn’t make her reactions any less damaging to you.
What I hope for you, even in all of this frustration, is peace for yourself—knowing that you are not responsible for fixing this toxic cycle on your own. If it’s possible to step back emotionally, even just a little, and choose where to invest your energy, it might help. If certain discussions always escalate into blame, it’s okay to choose not to engage in those battles. You deserve space where you’re heard and where your emotions matter.
I hope you can find small ways to care for yourself today, even in the midst of all this hurt. You’re not alone, and your feelings are real. Sending you warmth and strength. 💙
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Bella:
As I read your post for the first time this morning, I’ll take this approach: I’ll read a sentence or a few at a time, respond to them, then move on to the next set—without knowing what comes next in your post. I’m guessing this will end up being a long response, and I hope you take your time with it.
“I honestly have been putting this off for a really long time dealing with family dynamics.” – We tend to put off things that make us anxious or uncomfortable.
“I just don’t know where to start and how to address them all.” – You’ve been dealing with a lot of family dynamics for a long time, and it makes sense that untangling them feels overwhelming.
“For context – My aunt and my mom has been my go-to family for most of my life. They both come from extreme traumatic life experiences — they’ve witnessed their mom take her life… their toxic past keeps showing up in ways that now I am trying to make sense of it all.”-
It’s interesting that you said, “My aunt and my mom has been,” instead of “have been.” Maybe it’s just a typo, but it could also suggest you see them as one unit rather than two separate people.
There’s no doubt that witnessing their mother take her life was deeply traumatic.
“I hear it from everyone… They both have found a way to move on with their lives choosing lifestyles like keeping themselves overly occupied, having 12-14 hours… they are constantly exhausted but won’t give up when their body’s trying to indicate ‘STOP & REST’.”-
“They both” – Again, this makes it sound like they are almost the same person. I wonder how they interact with each other—whether they are each other’s best friend—but I’m guessing they aren’t emotionally open with one another.
It seems like they’ve built a habit of staying constantly busy. For them, stopping to rest might feel uncomfortable, even scary.
“2 days ago, I invited them over to my place… my aunt looked very upset… What I don’t understand is, why would she not choose to come have a word with me… and shared and explored options.”-
Your aunt tends to hold in her emotions for a long time before finally expressing them in indirect ways. She never learned to communicate her thoughts and feelings clearly and directly. Some people grow up in environments where expressing emotions is discouraged, leading them to suppress their feelings instead.
When a child’s emotions are regularly dismissed, ignored, or minimized, they may come to believe that expressing themselves is pointless or unwelcome. In a chaotic home, keeping emotions inside can feel safer than adding to the existing tension. If a child’s parents struggle with emotional expression, the child doesn’t have the opportunity to learn healthy communication skills.
“Fast forward, she has since been getting mad over trivial issues and going off at me… she is an enabler to many things that my aunt (her sister) does because it is easy and less chaotic / toxic.”-
It seems like your mother avoids confronting her sister because she doesn’t want to deal with conflict or emotional tension. She enables her sister’s behavior because it keeps things smoother in the short term.
This kind of dynamic often happens when one person has a strong or overpowering personality (your aunt?), and others choose to keep the peace rather than challenge them. Your mother may find it easier to go along with things rather than stand up to her sister.
“I have just given up hope in making them understand how toxic it is to be around them, let alone have deep discussions addressing the past and acknowledging that what was experienced is unfair but is necessary to deal with and embrace that, otherwise it will continue to show up in many ways that is regretful.”-
Facing painful memories can be overwhelming, so they might choose to ignore them rather than work through their emotions. Since they’ve spent years suppressing their feelings, it probably feels unnatural—or even impossible—to suddenly start addressing them. They may not even realize how much their past experiences are affecting them.
It seems like your mother and aunt are close, but not in an emotionally open way. Their bond is likely built on shared experiences, family ties, and unspoken understanding rather than direct emotional communication. Their struggles—including financial betrayal—probably strengthened their connection, even if they don’t openly discuss their feelings. Instead of expressing frustrations, they enable each other’s behaviors and avoid certain topics altogether.
Growing up in a chaotic home can deeply shape the relationship between two sisters. Your mother and aunt both witnessed their mother’s passing, which was deeply traumatic. That experience alone likely reinforced their connection—not necessarily through emotional openness, but through unspoken understanding of their shared pain.
In chaotic families, emotions are often seen as burdens rather than something to process. Your mother and aunt may have learned that talking about painful experiences only makes things harder, so they learned to suppress their feelings instead. Over time, they likely developed certain unspoken rules, such as: “We don’t talk about painful things.”, “We keep moving forward, no matter what.”, “We support each other quietly, but we don’t challenge each other.”
Because of this, they may be emotionally close, but not open—meaning they lean on each other when necessary but avoid discussing deeper issues.
In chaotic homes, siblings often fall into specific roles to cope. Based on what you’ve described, your mother might have taken on the role of peacekeeper, choosing avoidance over confrontation to keep things smooth. Meanwhile, your aunt seems to hold onto resentment, expressing it indirectly instead of addressing things head-on. These roles reinforce each other and make emotional communication even harder.
When siblings go through trauma together, their bond can be strong but dysfunctional, such that is missing the emotional openness needed for true healing. This Trauma Bonding could explain why your mother enables her sister’s behavior—rather than challenging her, she supports her in silence, making sure things remain predictable rather than disruptive.
For both of them, their past experiences still shapes how they interact today—not through direct conversations but through quiet support, enabling behaviors, and avoidance of hard truths.
It makes sense that you feel distant from them right now. Their relationship is built on patterns that don’t allow emotional transparency, which affects you as well. If they aren’t willing to address their past or communicate openly, you may never get the deep conversations you hope for. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find peace within yourself—you can focus on protecting your own well-being rather than waiting for them to change.
“I just don’t know how to navigate this phase of my life… I would love some guidance and how to go through this in phases and learning to commit to this process and not run away from it because I tend to do that a lot.”-
It sounds like you’re in a tough spot, torn between wanting to support your mom and aunt while also feeling distant and overwhelmed by growing tensions. The fact that you recognize this and want to commit to working through it is already a big step. Here are my suggestions:
1. Accept what you can and cannot change. You can’t change your aunt or mother, and it’s unlikely you’ll make them acknowledge their past or communicate differently. However, you can change how you respond. Instead of trying to fix them, focus on setting boundaries and protecting your emotional well-being. Prioritize what brings you peace while staying true to yourself.
Letting go of the need for them to acknowledge the past—since that may never happen—can bring you closer to peace of mind.
2. Shift your mindset from ‘Fixing’ to ‘Supporting.’ Support doesn’t mean carrying the weight of their problems or trying to solve them. Sometimes, simply being present, listening, and showing empathy is enough.
You can acknowledge their feelings and offer reassurance without absorbing their stress or trying to control the outcome. This might mean stepping in when they need comfort but stepping back when the conversation becomes draining. Supporting someone doesn’t require sacrificing your own peace—it’s about being there when you can, without feeling obligated to fix what’s beyond your control.
3. Set clear boundaries to protect your well-being. Before engaging, decide in advance how much time and emotional energy you’re willing to invest. This could mean limiting interactions, choosing specific topics to discuss, or stepping back entirely when necessary. If conversations begin to feel toxic or exhausting, give yourself permission to disengage. Protecting your own emotional health isn’t selfish—it’s essential.
I hope this helps..?
“Thank you again and sorry for going off in tangents.”- You are welcome and no need to apologize. I welcome your writing and would love to read more from you!
anita
May 9, 2025 at 10:00 pm in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445528anita
ParticipantMy space, My thread, My Story.
Anita’s Story.
May 9, 2025 at 9:47 pm in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445527anita
ParticipantContinued: I am integrating my fragmented parts, the dissociated, repressed and suppressed parts- all coming together into a whole. finally, I am owning my experience.
Healing is not about not-feeling, it’s about being able to feel it all and be stronger for it.
I feel Love for my mother, I feel Anger at her, I feel Hurt, Rage.. all together.
I am no longer fragmented, torn, because all these emotions pulling me in all kinds of directions. Instead, I am whole, as all these emotions are part of the whole, part of me.
This is my thread, my space. This is my healing story, Anita’s Story.
anita
May 9, 2025 at 9:10 pm in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445526anita
ParticipantThank you, Alessa. I like you, I like who you are. Thank you for being you! You deserve the best, please be good to yourself, be on your side, always. Prioritize yourself, be your own No 1! ❤️
anita
May 9, 2025 at 8:58 pm in reply to: “He initiated closeness, then disappeared — still hurting months later” #445525anita
ParticipantDear Adalie: If only he was ready, you could have made a big difference for him, a positive big difference. But he was not ready, and he is still not ready- his loss. He could have benefited so much from what you have to offer him. This is not uncommon: people having treasure in front of them and they can’t even see it.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Bella:
I am looking forward to read your post and reply Sat morning (it is Fri afternoon here).
Anita
May 9, 2025 at 7:26 am in reply to: “He initiated closeness, then disappeared — still hurting months later” #445507anita
ParticipantDear Adalie:
I can feel how much you’ve been reflecting on the little moments—the way he reacted to your touch, how he held the hug, how his hand responded to yours. Those moments felt real, and I completely understand why you’re searching for meaning in them.
But here’s the hard truth—no matter how genuine those interactions seemed in the moment, his silence afterward speaks louder. Connection isn’t just about fleeting gestures; it’s about continuity, care, and showing up beyond a single interaction.
Maybe he did feel something in those moments. Maybe he was surprised by the intimacy and wasn’t expecting it to feel meaningful. But if that was the case—if those moments truly affected him—he would have followed up. He would have responded. Instead, he withdrew.
His lack of engagement now suggests that whatever he felt wasn’t enough for him to act on it. That doesn’t mean you misread the moment—it means that, for whatever reason, he chose not to continue the connection.
He made the decision to pull away instead of addressing whatever discomfort or uncertainty he felt. That was his choice—his emotional failure, his avoidance, not yours.
You deserve someone who not only feels something in the moment but follows through beyond it. Someone whose presence isn’t just temporary, leaving you to decipher unspoken meanings.
Letting go isn’t about denying the experience—it’s about recognizing that its meaning doesn’t need his validation. You don’t need his acknowledgment for those moments to have been real for you. What matters now is choosing to move forward with your own sense of clarity and worth.
You are not alone in this. You are seen, heard, and valued—and you deserve the kind of connection that doesn’t leave you questioning your importance. ❤️
* There are two articles you might find insightful:
Elite Daily – Here Are The 4 Main Reasons People Ghost After Sex
Your Tango – 7 Reasons Why Men Ghost Women (& What To Do When It Happens To You)
Sending warmth your way.
anita
May 8, 2025 at 10:05 pm in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445501anita
ParticipantContinued (Trigger Warning): I have a problem with submitting to aggressors, going belly-up, as in, “I am at your mercy, Do with me as you Please, But Please, Pretty please, Don’t kill me!”
This kind of submission is so very humiliating. I don’t ever want to submit that way!
Anger is a natural emotion, it has a positive motivation: to protect the individual, and the group- to protect from harm, from untimely death.
I have lots of anger in me because I spent over half a century in the position of belly-up- submitting to my mother whom I perceived to have been my victim (because she told me so)- Crazy, because I was her victim while she portrayed herself as the Eternal Victim.
There is Anger that builds up as you spend too much time in the belly-up position.
Now, I am expressing this here, in my own thread, my own space. No need to attack me here, is there?
Living with my mother- there was no space for me, no space for my hurt, no space for my anger. None Allowed.
She Attacked me for .. feeling anything that inconvenienced her, anything that triggered her (and so much, so often triggered her).
I pushed down my feelings, suppressing them best I could, but it was so very difficult to contain the hurt, and more so, the.. anger.
It’s amazing how she’d tell me: “You are a Nobody, a Big Zero!” and then condemn me for feeling anger at being a Big Zero.. accusing me of not being.. humble enough to accept being a-big-zero..?
There was nothing that stopped her from attacking me, nothing… My mother was the most vicious person I have ever known, personally. And this is the truth, my truth: I heard of and read of evil people like Hitler, and current Hammas, but personally, one-2-one, I have only known one evil person, and that’s my mother.
I still see her, in my mind’s eye, looking at me with those very dark, black eyes and that mild smile, looking at me and saying these words, or no words: “I hate you! I will make you hurt, and I will enjoy your pain because I deserve this pleasure, because this is the least you can do for me- to allow me to enjoy your pain!”
This was- is my mother. This is my “loving”, “protecting” mother. It boggles my mind.. it’s so very difficult to put together- my own Mother, the only one I had- with Evil.
It’s Thursday night here. I am sharing this not to be judged as a bad daughter, a bad person, but to share that .. I would have been and done ANYTHING to help and better my mother.. only she didn’t, wouldn’t.. wouldn’t. Just wouldn’t.. what’s the word.. wouldn’t stop HATING me. Her one constant, message: “You anita, are a Big Zero, and worse, a Negative that deserves to DIE!”
How can I process this.. that my own mother has been my worst enemy?
It’s mind boggling. I see her now, in my mind’s eye, and she is looking at me with nothing but HATE. And that is what I internalized: Hate-for-Me.
I remember two adult women holding her, preventing her from getting to me as she screamed like a wounded animal: “I will kill her!’, me, that is. I remember: “I will kill her!”, or was it: “I will murder her!”
I was maybe 10, maybe younger.
I don’t remember the rest of that “lovely” evening, but I know the two adult women (an aunt and a neighbor) left and there I was left with the one who threatened murder.
That night, as in every night, I didn’t know if I’d live or die.
Every night it was liken that: will I live or die?
I tried my best, in my little-girl ways to help her.
But her black, unforgiving eyes were.. what’s the word when there are no words, that blackness in her eyes.. what’s the word or words, MURDER is what comes to mind. She hated me that much.
Yes, she hated me that much. This is truth: she hated me that much.
At night, I would listen to sounds: is she getting close, closer to me, is she about to kill me? How, what does it mean, to be killed?
anita
May 8, 2025 at 7:37 pm in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445499anita
ParticipantDear Alessa:
I’m really glad to hear you’re starting to feel better. Thank you for your kind words and for sharing your thoughts so openly. ❤️
Your experience with empathy is really interesting—how you’ve worked hard to develop understanding even when it hasn’t come naturally. I imagine that effort has made a big difference, especially with your son. It’s beautiful how you show up for him in that way.
I completely agree that emotional detachment can serve a purpose, but it’s not something to rely on all the time. Finding balance is so important. I’m in the process of learning that myself—how to connect and stay connected to emotions without letting them overwhelm me.
I appreciate what you said about reclaiming my love for my culture’s music. It feels freeing, in a way I didn’t expect, and I think you’re right—I deserve that. ❤️
I hear you on the challenges with trust. I think for both of us, PTSD makes that even harder. Some wounds linger, and navigating relationships with those difficulties can be exhausting. But I agree—being able to move through those challenges is important, even when it isn’t easy.
Thank you for taking the time to share all of this. I always appreciate your insights and your kindness.
anita
May 8, 2025 at 7:12 pm in reply to: “He initiated closeness, then disappeared — still hurting months later” #445498anita
ParticipantDear Adalie:
I hear the weight of what you’re carrying, and I want to acknowledge that this kind of situation can be deeply frustrating and painful. Being left without explanation—without clarity or closure—makes moving forward feel almost impossible at times. When there’s silence, the mind fills in the gaps, searching for answers that may never come.
The hardest part is that you didn’t do anything wrong. You trusted someone who showed interest in you, who reached out first, who made the choice to reconnect. You let yourself be vulnerable, and that’s not something to regret—it’s something to honor.
But what happened afterward—the awkward comment, the sudden disappearance—says more about his emotional capacity than anything about you. People walk away for all sorts of reasons, but when they do so without a conversation, it often reflects avoidance, fear, or a lack of maturity rather than any failing on your part.
The silence can feel personal, but it isn’t proof that you didn’t matter. You mattered in that moment because you are someone who feels deeply and connects deeply. His actions don’t take that away.
Letting go won’t happen all at once, but it starts with recognizing that you don’t need his explanation to move forward. You don’t need him to tell you what it meant for it to have mattered. And most of all, you don’t need to replay this moment forever—it does not define your worth.
Sending warmth your way. You’re not alone in this.
anita
May 8, 2025 at 11:40 am in reply to: The Betrayal We Buried: Healing Through Truth & Connection #445489anita
ParticipantContinued:
It’s the strangest feeling—this awakening. To realize I was frozen in my youth, trapped there for more than half a century, and now, finally, waking up emotionally. Finding myself a beginning teenager in an older woman’s body—it’s… unbelievable. Bizarre. But not in the detached way that kept me frozen for decades.
I am not sorry for awakening, even though it comes late in life. It’s worth it—to rejoin life.
With this awakening, my hunger to socialize, to connect has returned with intensity, like a hunger for oxygen.
I see everyone—however old—as children playing, or wanting to play, on the playground. Wanting to be liked, to be acknowledged. SEE ME, HERE I AM! PLAY WITH ME!
But it’s a shame—too many people (and even one is too many) feel the need to put a stop to others’ living and thriving, trapping them in uncalled for, unjustified, abusive guilt and shame.
Someone reading this very post—my own words in my own space—may feel the urge to attack, to rain on my parade of awakening for no reason other than their own bitterness. I need to be prepared for that: an unjustified, uncalled-for attack… simply because someone feels like it.
This fear ties back to “The Betrayal”—the first two words of this thread’s title. I don’t know why it is, and it enrages me, that someone, somewhere, carries it in their mind and (lack of) heart to crush the joy of others. To rain on the parade of children—whether still youthful or awakened back into youth at any age.
I want to be prepared so to not be crushed, again.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Lucidity:
Your iceberg metaphor beautifully captures the deep work of shadow healing—it’s a slow, layered process that reshapes the entire experience of living.
I hear what you’re saying about longing—the desire for your mother to understand you, even when you knew she never would. That kind of loss isn’t easy, but the way you found acceptance over time is deeply meaningful. You gave what you could in her final moments, and whether she truly understood what you were offering or not, that was hers to carry—not yours. That perspective takes a lot of emotional strength.
With your sister, the longing feels different. It still surfaces because she’s alive, and that means there’s still a possibility—however small—of change. When possibility remains in a situation, the mind naturally revisits it.
For me, understanding my mother and myself—without needing to fix her or the non-existent relationship between us—is what brings a deep sense of closure. It’s not about trying to change her or force resolution, but about learning more about people, patterns, and relationships. It’s about making sense of the dynamics that shaped my life, not holding onto pain, but finding clarity—and, ultimately, peace.
Your reflections hold so much depth, and I really appreciate you sharing them. If you ever want to talk more about how shadow work continues to shape your life, I’d love to hear.
anita
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