I'm celebrating five years of NO CONTACT with my tbm NPD parents. Reflecting on Mother's Day, it appears I'm not alone in my pain. So, today, I dedicate this poem to you.

For Children Who Were Broken
By Elisa Wise

For children who were broken, it is very hard to mend.
Our pain was rarely spoken and we hid the truth from friends.

Our parents said they loved us,
But they didn't act that way.

They broke our hearts and stole our worth
With the things that they would say.

We wanted them to love us
We didn't know what we did
To make them yell at us and hit us
And wish we weren't their kid.

They'd beat us up and scream at us
And blame us for their lives
Then they'd hold us in their arms
And tell us confusing lies

About how they really loved us
Even though we were bad
And how it was our fault they hit us
Our fault that they were mad.

When days were just beginning
We sometimes prayed for them to end
And when the pain kept coming
We learned to just pretend

That we were good and so were they
And this was just one of those days--
Tomorrow we'd be friends.

We had to believe it so
We had nowhere else to go

Each day that we pretended
We replaced reality

With lies or dreams or angry schemes
In search of dignity
Until our lies got bigger than the truth
And we had no one real to be

Our bodies were forsaken
With no safe place to hide
We learned to stop hearing and feeling
What they did to our outsides.

We tried to make them love us
'Til we hated ourselves instead
And couldn't see a way out
and wished that they were dead.

We scared ourselves by thinking that
And scared ourselves to know
That we were acting just like them
And might ever more be so.

To be half the size of a grown up
And trapped inside their pain
to everyday lose everything
With no Savior or refrain

To wonder how it is possible
That God could so forget
The worthy child you knew you were
When you had not been damaged yet

To figure on your fingers
The years 'til you'd be grown
Enough to leave the torment
And survive away from home
Were more than you could count
Or more than you could bear

Was the reality we lived in
And we knew it wasn't fair

We who grew up broken
Are somewhat out of time
Struggling to mend our childhood
when our peers are in their prime

Where others find love and contentment
We still often have to strive
to remember we are worthy
And heroes just to be alive

Some of us are healing
Some of us are stealing
Most are passing the anger on
Some give their lives away to drugs
Or the promise of like beyond

Some still hide from society
Some struggle to belong
but all of us are wishing
The past wouldn't hold on so long

There's a lot of digging down to do
To find the child within
To love away the ugly pain
And feel innocence again

There is forgiveness worthy of angels wings
For remembering those at all
Who abused our sacred childhood
And programmed us to fail

To seek to understand them
And how their pain became our own
Is to risk the ground we stand on
To climb the mountain home

The journey is not so lonely
As in the past it's been
More of us are strong enough
To let the growth begin

But while we're trekking up the mountain
We need everything we've got
To face the adult we have become
And all that we are not

So when you see us weary
From the day's internal climb
When we find fault with your best efforts
Or treat imperfections as purposeful crime

When you see our quick defenses
Our efforts to control
Our readiness to form a plan
Of unrealistic goals

When we run into a conflict
And fight to the bitter end
Remember we think that winning
Means we won't be hurt again

When we abandon our thoughts and feelings
To be what we believe you want us to
Or look at trouble we're having
And blame it all on you

When life calls for new beginnings
And we fear they're doomed to end
Remember, wounded trust is like a wounded knee
It is very hard to bend.

Please remember this
When we are out of sorts
Tell us the truth and be our friend
For children who were broken
It is very hard to mend.

Yes.

Thank you, FLC.

Thought provoking! Thank you.

It felt the same way to me when I read it the first time! I also couldn't get through it without tearing up the first few times. But it's my favorite poem...

This was a nice mother's day. My bf brought me a dozen roses, a balloon, a bottle of red wine (I haven't drunk alcohol in almost a year), and a card, and signed it for my nineteen month old daughter. :-)

You have furry babies right? I hope your day went well.

I recognize those thoughts so well. Thanks for sharing.

This was amazing. Thanks :'|

This is so appropriate for today.

I've known so many mormons whose first job in life was to be broken.

My parents told me that all Mormon children were raised like that, and that they, themselves, were raised like that. It was the Mormon way. The didn't believe in psychology. They didn't believe a child could be "broken." I was punished for crying or defending myself. My brothers were more cruel than my parents, even. I honestly don't think I could have recovered from my upbringing, if I had remained in the Mormon cult. The cult was such a huge part of the abuse. Obedience led to bad decisions, which destroyed my life. After I left home, it took years of hard work, and professional therapy, for me to feel like I was even a human being.

Wow this made me cry, that poem is a mirror of my childhood growing up with a mom who was bi-polar, but I refuse to be a victim, I'm a survivor and I live life to the fullest, we all deserve to be happy, sure there are times when the memories show their ugly face but for me it's a strong reminder that I need to be the loving, stable mom to my daughter, I need to be that mom that I never had growing up

Thanks for posting this; really touched my heart.

I thank my dw for helping me/us undo the pain of youth.

Tearing away from the parents was hard, but, the right thing.

I have nothing to do do with them and them with me. Hard on our kids...

Best to all,

Merrill

From one survivor to another, thank you! Growing up I thought I was the only one. I left home after I graduated from high school and never went back. My dad was physically and emotionally abusive. His wife never, ever did anything to protect me. I think she enabled him, thereby protecting herself whom he also physically abused.

For many years long after I left the home of my abusers, I had a dream of my dad chasing me through the night, me barefoot in my long flannel nightgown. Always I was just barely out of his reach and I kept running faster and faster. I knew that if I ran fast enough and jumped just right, I could fly away into the night where I would be invisible. When I was finally flying I'd fly to the tallest tree and cry.

I had this dream for about 30 years. It would come to me when I was the most stressed out and feeling like I had no control over certain situations in my life. Finally I figured out that I could control that dream and consciously do what I wanted. So I started flying right off the bat and I would follow my dad back home, where I would sit on the roof of the house or in the nearest tree and yell at him, swear at him and tell him my truths that he had always denied. I mocked him. Everything I'd ever felt came out and a lot of it was ugly and cruel, but I needed for it to come out so I could find my way from being a victim to being a survivor.

The dream went away. I haven't had it in about three years now. I haven't seen my dad or his wife in nearly nine years. I do not call them, I do not send cards or letters or emails. He is just a man I once knew. Once, when I had a layover in SLC I think I saw him at the airport but I didn't care enough to find out if it was him. Even as an adult, my relationship with him is toxic to me. He believes that women have to be "taught" to be wives and mothers by the men. Screw him and his backwards ideas.

Rachel, thank goodness you got away from him. Those dreams you had where you are flying, they're special. Called lucid dreams, as you discovered, you can control them. I used to have flying dreams too. When I figured out how to control my maneuvers, I would use them to stay away and hide from my parents. I also had a very vivid dream which turned out to be one of my first memories, and sticks with me to this day. The dream was that my parents were T rexes. They came crashing through my bedroom door and began tearing through my flesh and devouring me. I even remember feeling the pricks on my skin during the dream. Their teeth were huge, sharp and yellow. Their claws were filthy and my flesh was hanging from them as they clawed at my body. Our subconscious has a way of telling us things. This dream, told me, a little three year old baby, that her parents were bad...

Your dreams sound really scary especially for a child! Wow.

Lucid dreaming is especially helpful when dealing with trauma of any kind. I was so grateful when I figured out that was what I was doing and could control it.

I'm glad you survived your parents.

I apologize for being so rude to you the other day LatterClimber. I wish you peace in your journey.

Thank you moronistrombone. My apologies to you as well. Ever since we lost xyz, I feel on edge and very protective of my fellow posters. I can get pretty nasty in my defensiveness. Peace to you as well.

I understand that 100%. I agree with you and I was out of line.

As a father, I am so sorry for all who can identify with this poem. It breaks my heart.

You are definately a mind-reader FLC. Mothers' Day is really tough on me, and part of the reason is just what this poem said.

Wow, love this. It is beautiful. I am going to share it with my sisters, mothers day is hard for all of us.

Thank you for posting that FLC. It certainly rang true to my childhood and the feelings that I carry with me to this day. I struggle with forgiveness. :/

Thanks for posting that. Going to pass this on to my siblings.
Hugs to all my fellow survivors.

Thank you...