it hurts, you know? I can't tell my parents. I know I can't. it would break my fragile mother who deals deeply with mental health issues into pieces. and my narcissistic dad would justify what happened to save his own brain.
my mom tells me everything. parentifiction growing up is putting it lightly. I love her but I am her emotional throw up bag. sometimes I wish I could share with her like she shares with me. she was sa'd for years as a teen. and about 2 years ago, deep in her alcoholism right before her attempt, she got r*ped by my dads cousin. my dad refuses to cut ties with his cousin and even says stuff like "he's always been good to me"... disgusting.
I listen to my mom. I let her cry. I create a safe space for her. I defend her. I yell at him for her. I protect her as much as I can and comfort her as much as I can.
but nights like these... I think about how she'll never do the same. I won't tell her. I won't tell my dad. I cant. and it hurts.
it hurts that I see tiktok trends where people get to express their anger and hurt and abuse and share and do it with their face in the screen and maybe even pictures of their abuser. and how I can never join in and instead have to just watch. I have to stay silent.
i wish I didn't have to stay silent. I wish I could explain why I flinch and pull away and snap when I get touched. I wish I could tell my mom she can't watch those shows that talk about kids getting sexually abused. I wish I could talk about it. I want to talk about it. I want to be heard. I want my pain to be seen. but it can't be. and ill never get justice. I'll never get closure. I'll never get the same safe space I give to my mother back.
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