Would you ever help someone who abused you?
in Psychology & Therapy ·
It has been years since I last had to dwell on my situation with my mother—we finally resolved it—but I feel compelled to share my experience because of what started this thread.
My mother was an incredibly difficult person. And I say *was*. She was mentally completely unstable, and it just kept getting worse, which took a massive toll on both me personally and everyone around her.
My father was present, but he refused to ever engage in conflict with her. Whenever they would start fighting, he would try to de-escalate by, say, gripping her hand a little tighter to stop her momentum, and that would be the trigger that sent her into a full-blown rage. Eventually, I moved away to start a new life and recover. Or so I thought.
I went through a particularly grueling period of my life—going through a divorce—and that is when she completely detached from reality. She attacked me, sometimes even physically. She would show up at my door screaming, then suddenly calm down and weep in front of my house, begging for forgiveness. And I, being a fool, would open the door, only to have her turn back into a monster. She threatened self-harm, suicide... I went through all of it. She even tried to manipulate my father into calling me, using his heart condition as leverage.
Then one day, I stood in front of the mirror and told myself: "Look, honey, either you or she is going to end up in a psychiatric ward." When I really looked at myself, I saw a young woman with a child, and I realized I couldn't let myself be destroyed.
I went to the police and reported exactly what my mother was doing to me. (Mind you, I had always been her favorite, her "golden child," whenever she was actually behaving.)
On one occasion, right in the middle of a confrontation, I managed to dial the police number while she was trying to snatch my phone from me, and the officers arrived just in time.
She crumbled. She didn't even have an ID on her. The police gave her a stern verbal warning, and I used that moment to cut off all contact with her for months.
It was excruciatingly difficult, but I had to protect myself.
After about five months, she reached out to my workplace, sounding absolutely desperate and saying things were bad. That led to a few months of peace without her constant screaming.
Then, something inside me shifted. I prepared myself and drove over to her place. And there she was... a woman who looked like she weighed maybe 60 pounds, pale and hollow-eyed...
I simply took her by the hand and drove her straight to the psychiatric hospital.
She stayed there for about three months. She cried; she pleaded for my forgiveness. It turns out the doctors found the right treatment plan, and for years now, I haven't had to think about a thing like that again.
Sure, she takes medication, but my mother is a completely different person now. She isn't vacant or irrational anymore; she has become a pleasant person. I actually enjoy spending time with her. The aggression is gone. I helped her, but I first had to let her hit rock bottom in order to truly save her.
That is my experience.
My mother was an incredibly difficult person. And I say *was*. She was mentally completely unstable, and it just kept getting worse, which took a massive toll on both me personally and everyone around her.
My father was present, but he refused to ever engage in conflict with her. Whenever they would start fighting, he would try to de-escalate by, say, gripping her hand a little tighter to stop her momentum, and that would be the trigger that sent her into a full-blown rage. Eventually, I moved away to start a new life and recover. Or so I thought.
I went through a particularly grueling period of my life—going through a divorce—and that is when she completely detached from reality. She attacked me, sometimes even physically. She would show up at my door screaming, then suddenly calm down and weep in front of my house, begging for forgiveness. And I, being a fool, would open the door, only to have her turn back into a monster. She threatened self-harm, suicide... I went through all of it. She even tried to manipulate my father into calling me, using his heart condition as leverage.
Then one day, I stood in front of the mirror and told myself: "Look, honey, either you or she is going to end up in a psychiatric ward." When I really looked at myself, I saw a young woman with a child, and I realized I couldn't let myself be destroyed.
I went to the police and reported exactly what my mother was doing to me. (Mind you, I had always been her favorite, her "golden child," whenever she was actually behaving.)
On one occasion, right in the middle of a confrontation, I managed to dial the police number while she was trying to snatch my phone from me, and the officers arrived just in time.
She crumbled. She didn't even have an ID on her. The police gave her a stern verbal warning, and I used that moment to cut off all contact with her for months.
It was excruciatingly difficult, but I had to protect myself.
After about five months, she reached out to my workplace, sounding absolutely desperate and saying things were bad. That led to a few months of peace without her constant screaming.
Then, something inside me shifted. I prepared myself and drove over to her place. And there she was... a woman who looked like she weighed maybe 60 pounds, pale and hollow-eyed...
I simply took her by the hand and drove her straight to the psychiatric hospital.
She stayed there for about three months. She cried; she pleaded for my forgiveness. It turns out the doctors found the right treatment plan, and for years now, I haven't had to think about a thing like that again.
Sure, she takes medication, but my mother is a completely different person now. She isn't vacant or irrational anymore; she has become a pleasant person. I actually enjoy spending time with her. The aggression is gone. I helped her, but I first had to let her hit rock bottom in order to truly save her.
That is my experience.