proof that only my response to abuse is important, no one cares about the abuse I'm responding to

If the abuse has no influence, and only the reaction to the abuse sums up my character - T

then is that why I was abused? Not bc I was bad stupid fat and ugly, but bc I needed to react with tears and uncivilized behaviors at a specific time and place?  That's why she waited until the car ride on the way to the event to tell me how ugly my clothes are for the entire ride, and wouldn't stop berating once we arrived.  She stopped berating once dad saw me, crying, again.  He looked so disappointed.  I think that's when I learned bathroom stall doors were sacred.

How my heart full of dental decay pounds tachycardic on behalf of little me.  I wish one person could tell little me, "don't believe her words, she's not your mom." Instead, I grew up believing I had the most hardworking loving mother ever, and bc she was nearly perfect, I must try to meet her standards.

Can't do that, tg for cheesecake.

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Remember how I tried reconnecting with my birthmother?

I figured out she had always known the specifics of the abuse I survived bc, she tested me for my fabled behavior.  EG, stealing furniture, pushed into a kettle, chopping off 6 inches instead of 1 inch, smells so many smells, blood found all over the house whenever I'm menstruating, accuse me of stealing gifts I had given her.  

Taking all of my money.

When I responded in max fawn, she was overjoyed.  I think she was relieved I'm not the clobbering female ogre as described by Stephmother.  I think my biomom felt relief, pride, then vindication that I don't lose my meekness.

But at what cost.  I was framed, betrayed, given 2nd degree burns, tortured for my sensory issues.  I hadn't seen her since Dad's funeral.  I hadn't had her to myself in 40 years.  Strangers are a trigger.  NYC subway system are a trigger.  Yi is a trigger.  I had used every shred of spirit I had to open myself up and start this quest, I used public transportation and economy class bus fare from Philly to Queens, while newly low-vision.   She complained Amtrak was extravagant.  Lashes from birthmother and her husband were unexpected.  Dinner became peaceful once I had been pushed over the disassociation cliff, finger tips stomped, my 2yo heart wrung out.

I hope I get over this shock soon, I want to befriend her before she's gone.  She came to town for a day, I never returned her call.  It physically hurts too much to think of her.  I hope I am strong enough one day to not feel too much pain while loving.

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If the abuse has no influence, and only the reaction to the abuse sums up my character - T

then is that why I was abused?  Not bc I was bad stupid fat and ugly, but bc I needed to react in tears and uncivilized behaviors at a specific time and place?

PTSD can contribute to funky memory retrieval

Yes, while body is keeping one alive from a bear attack, memorization is not a priority.  Individuals go numb once the trauma occurs bc it's nice to not see, hear, or feel a bear scooping out guts.

But what led up to the trigger?  

Tattooed flesh

Embroidered shoe leather

Seared scaley fish

Branded hide

Chiseled into the side of a crag like Mount Rushmore

Isn't that the inconvenience with PTSD?  What came before the trigger replays not as a memory from decades ago, but as it happened earlier today, outside in the Sun, on a loop.

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What sort of personality weaponizes a survivor's trigger?  

Someone started the rumor that when I hear, 'i love you', it erases everything like a floppy format*. Suzanne used it only this last Christmas. Steph's sister waited for me in the pitch black sleet for Ben's bedtime walk to say "I love you".  Yah, the same one that says she met me at 6 weeks old and says, "my sister made that".

Their issue is that they suddenly act normal AFTER saying 'i love you'.  The relentless listing of my real failures and made up lore stops after they try to trigger.  For 38 years, I loved and respected every criticism monologue as tough love, a pep talk to guide growth.

I wonder who I would be if I didn't spend most of my life healing bc they were desperate to cover up their personal shame.  Is it terrible to be a FOB for 3 generations in a row?  I wonder if I would be softer.  Smarter.  Less smelly.

I hate being bulimic, it's so expensive.  When Mia first visited, I could get 20 bags of chips and cakes for $5.  At the height of Mia there were 79¢ items on the $1 menu.

I love Mia, she's my longest friend.  Only cigarettes usurped her.  When cigarettes fled, Mia faithfully offered her services.  Cigarette smoke that made my eyes water as a child, make my skin itchy if too near, was my sure sign that the hurt will stop, that I am safe for a meal - bc dad is home everyone is on their best behavior.  Even if he doesn't come to find me, I know he's near.

 

*I do go non-verbal when I hear "I love you", it's a sign that a group taunt is imminent, to lilt and list all of the ways I am unloved.  Silence is best, any engagement is a 2x-3x power-up for groups.  I know bc a teacher's aid spotted the behavior on the blacktop.  When I began to walk away without a bead of sweat suffered, she high-fived a 6yo me.  She didn't immediately stop the bullying during recess, and her theory proved true.  

Get original, why an alleged trigger I acquired at 4yo? No, please don't get original. Oh, you don't know what the newer triggers are bc your style of programming is ostentatious? Jeez-louise, dress in layers and bring high protein non salty snacks for your appointment with St. Pete.

*bc she tried to kick me out 15 min after arriving at Steph's bc my apt is flooded. Two days later, when I accepted Suzanne's offer for an extended stay suite, she ignored me for the next 10 days.  Suzanne lives with Steph bc Suzanne's son committed patricide.

*words are easier than actions

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Hey Jen, is it ok if I live in my fantasy world?  Can you stop sending minimum wagers to break my heart?  Though they turn on you for $10/hr, unfortunately the friend making part of me stopped aging at 4yo and I love to love dreams, each time I believe they're a real friend.  Each time you show up i'm losing a real friend and I believe the hours of monologues.

Can you remember you're attacking a 4yo bc you were trained to?  I am the least of your worries.  I told you, no one cares about protecting me.  Your enemies are my protectors.

freedom

What can I say when little me asks, "do we get away?  Are we safe?"

No.  It's the teeth again.  

Years of missing incisors:

3-8: all four pulled at 3yo, first tooth grew in at 6yo

15-17, three unfinished veneers for sophomore - senior

19-21:  #9 crown failed five times for sophomore - junior

32-current:  #9 at 32yo flipper snapped in half, #10, #7 snapped at 34yo, wiggler #8 pulled at 38yo.  Lefort and six implants started at 39yo.  

Today:  upper, no upper teeth four out of six crownless implants infected.  Lower, eight wigglers and five crownless implants.

We're more afraid of Stepmother and Minime than ever.  How does Stepmother compel hired goons to break my heart so well? She pays so little.

To keep safe, never see more than what they want.  Keep your head down and obey.  Take it without protest, if you do, it will get worse.  If you tell anyone about the abuse, you will be painted insane and no one will believe anything you say about anything ever again, and the abuse will get worse - it always gets worse.  They are developmentally typical, and they've been a team for 37 years.  Accept that you will never outrun them, you're on a track they set up with booby traps 10 years ago.  You are developmentally broken, on no team, and can't believe your own eyes bc you want to believe they love you as they ask of you.

No, we don't get away, but we do master avoiding punishment.  Be very still, say nothing, think nothing.  When it's obvious you're being set up for humiliation show no objection, and crash splendidly.  If you aren't embarrassed/embarassing to the max, the  Stephmother and her Minime will be sad.  Your brain is a useless burden, you want to accomplish nothing, and obeying is safest.  Continue loving, they'll love you back someday.

to be loved

You know how moms love their kid, like no matter what?  Luke a nims kive usxsi fierce she will find a way to love her child despite poverty, war, famine?

What if I wasn't loved.  I'm nor saying I was hated and blamed for the caretakers' poor quality of life.  I'm not assuming I was intentionally neglected, misguided, ni actively abused.  

I was only not loved.  Each time I tried to come up with some lovable act, I received a flat face.  Each time I tried to excel, the face was of envy/jealousy.  When I was artistic, they showed fear.  I want to smile at people.

Maybe that's why I don't look at faces when listening.  Maybe that's why I don't like to be perceived.  But what if I still believe, if I try harder to find another way, one day I will be loved.  

I'm sorry Amy, you were the goodest, mightiest tiny.  I didn't deserve your love, individuals hurt you to hurt me.  Rest well.

#prochoiceisprolife

redefining okay

Is it a real possibility?  Is it possible, I never get away?  Must I imagine, I will train myself to be okay with, trapped by my shameful birth - smeared and caked by Stepmother and her Minime.  EG stepmother spreads false rumors to property management, I say I need to move, Stepmother says moving is impossible.  How do I know it's S&J?  Timing.  And the content of the lies are the same ones from elementary and highschool.

I could have accepted living with strangers bc my birth mom or dad doesn't want me.  Why did I have to believe stepmother gave birth to me; she loved me; saw her genes living on with me?

What is living if society gives an immigrant woman no other way of earning a living other than keeping a foundling so unwell that a healthy mind and body, offered every opportunity without guidance, will never care for itself? 

They were quite cruel, terrifying in private, mostly dog whistle betrayal in public.  The three of us believed no one could see through the smoke and mirrors and only understood Yang propaganda.  As an adult, I understand why onlookers paused before stepping in - to allow for self-incrimination.  See how Stepmother calls herself my birthmom, but has given me zero advice about my social media?  She tells Suzanne she does offer advice incessantly - with Soon included the echo must be searing.

Why were they cruel?  Their cruelty isn't cruel to them.  I was mute until 7yo.  I'm selectively mute at 40yo.  BC I am illegitimate and autistic.  Grandmother explained there is always a 윙따 to keep life orderly.  I think it's the same brain style of racists.  Like the group knows race is made up, but the group will use race to justify systemic murder, rape, and plunder.  It's the punishment I receive bc the image of Asian female is limited to porn and kungfu.  Are there individuals who swear revenge bc Americans look nothing like Charlton Heston, Christopher Reeves,and Jeff Goldblum?  No, they are individuals playing a character, chosen to act for their specific look.

According to my gi tract, Koreans are likely racist, absolutely ableist.  According to my stress sweat glands, the greatest odds of least ableist are white women teachers and librarians.  Other than that, I'm not racist.  I know it is racist when i feel safest when there is a black individual within earshot or in the same room.  I can't verbalize the method of my pattern recognition's findings.  

According to my migraine maestro, white men are equivalent to Stepmother.  I think it's the cadence and sequence.  I think it's the spending my money on their friends' investment opportunity.  And I love to love them unconditionally, idiot I am.  

For most of my twenties, I mirrored white men's behaviors and it got me attacked as delusionally entitled.  And though I never exposed anything below my collar,  my uncle believes my sardonic af social media was my sex worker advertisement.

I've been hated and chased out by every group.  Especially Christians.  Idk.  I'm tired of upsetting people when I'm trying so hard to be pleasant that I'm exhausted for two weeks after one dinner party.  Its lonlier to be alone with people.  I prefer being alone.  

Today, Stepmother's attacks are rationally manageable.  A 12yo could roll her games off a duck's back.

Problem is, when [step]mother's voice drops octave and booms my name upon initial hello, my body still feels 7yo, and I'm transported to the safest place in time and space.  In the subbasement's furthest storage room, one story below any windows, in the cedar closet with the fridge-style door with gaskets, behind the door to the utility room unfinished except for the shuffleboard tiles, beneath dozens of bags of alternate season clothes, surrounded by a wall of luggage, breathing as little as possible JIC she can hear my bronchitis whistle wheeze, or congested sniffling.  I could hold my urine for a day.  The only part that hurt was the thirst.  Idk why I was so scared to be perceived, to this day I don't understand what I did to upset her.  Adult me believes I had witnessed a mistake and Steph was trying to trigger my PTSD bc Steph believes PTSD = memory loss.  Someone please tell her PTSD also = experiences are branded into memory.  Someone please tell her the truth of her actions is not an attack on her.  The truth of her actions were an attack on me.  Me telling the truth is not an attack on her.  Me telling the truth is healing.

For my entire life, I was obsessed with figuring out how to get along with mother.  We'd spend hours fixing my behavior.  I would follow her directions to a T, and somehow this was humiliating to father.  I began to shelve improving at 38, after 20 years of therapy over her, maybe I'm as unredeemably stupid as she says I am.  My teachers are wrong, she's right: i'm the worst kind of R-word.

And then I go blind.  For 2+ years I'm blind in either eye, for 9 consecutive months I'm blind in both.  That's when everything comes into crystal focus.  Mother isn't my mother.  I wasn't crazy, she whipped me for feeling the truth.  She whipped me until the truth made me barf.

Back in elementary school, dad mentioned I was the final name to be entered into the Ahn family tree tome at some private library.  In highschool, Jihee noted mother and Jen only go out to eat if I am included, and as we get in the car stepmother picks until I cry and must stay home alone.  I recall I was cutoff with zero notice each time I opened my own phone plan, and every November.  Shortly before mother switches businesses again, I am invited to work at the family business then fired a week later for something I cannot remember.  The Yang's speak a dialect all refuse to identify.  Despite allegedly being born in the States, I am fluent in conversational Korean, how is my dialect blatantly North Korean?