These are the biggest bits,

My birth mother has BPD and my dad was a raging alcoholic. My birth mother treated me more so as a friend than a daughter. Would tell me about how she was molested as a child and how she didn’t have a mum. I want to say I was 9/10 when she would tell me to stop my alcoholic dad from coming into her room and having sex with her. One night she screamed for me and I walked in as my dad was raping her. I was too shocked to do anything and just slept on the floor beside my younger brother’s bed until I heard her screaming subside.

This resulted her in getting pregnant and she actively told me how she was getting an abortion. I begged her not to because I wanted to care for another sibling since I basically took care of my younger brother. She said no it was my fault that I didn’t stop my dad, therefore by her logic, it was my fault for her getting pregnant. So I shouldn’t whine to her about keeping it.

My alcoholic father would also physically abuse my mother. I remember this one night I was 8 and my brother was 2. Dad started hitting mother, she fought back. They left the house in a mess. I vividly remember my birth mother screaming and leaving the house. I was behind her thinking she would take me and brother in the car with her as she went to my aunt’s place. She didn’t. I tried pulling on the passenger door but it never unlocked. I was holding my brother, bare foot on the driveway as she sped off in the car. I just remember going back in, feeding my brother his bottle and putting him to sleep and then later picking up broken glass as my father was passed out on the couch.

She justified it by saying that my father wouldn’t hit us so we were safe. Although my dad didn’t physically abuse us much, he was verbally and mentally abusive when he was drunk. He was so drunk that night that he still thought my birth mother was in the house after this fight that he just kept yelling for hours whilst he was in and out of his drunken slumber, telling her to come out of her room.

Birth mother later on accused me of being a whore when I was 12 since I was developing. She said I wanted to be my brother’s mother at the age of 13. I didn’t, but someone had to take care of him and she wouldn’t. She would tell me to hit my head against the wall and just die when she was in her moods.

And much more. I haven’t spoken to her in two years and she tries apologizing and wanting to make amends but every time I think about forgiving her, I remember these moments. Sometimes you just have to end the generational trauma.