ONE REAL STORY OF LIFE: MY MOTHER WAS BITING MY FATHER...

My dad was physically abused by my mom. She bashed his head into walls and bathtubs and threw blowdryers at him. She bit him and made him bleed so many times. She said really really cruel things to him and somehow made herself out to be a victim of an abusive husband. I was forced to watch it and often forced by my mom to participate in it and say horrible things to my father and then defend HER and “testify” against him (not legally, but just informally to other family members) as a kid/adolescent.
They are divorced now thank God but I have so much guilt still. This went on for years. My dad always defended me and tried to protect me from my mother but that made my mom even more angry and she would make me defend her to him.
I still can’t look him in the eye. Even though I had a choice, at the time I felt helpless. I knew the only way protect myself was to submit to my mother. She had this way of making it impossible to say “no.” I believed, and I think she also believed, that she had absolute control over me, that she was all powerful and that “no” was simply not an option. (Even at 23, living with her as an adult, due to COVID, I still feel the exact same way, as though I simply must obey her no matter what she asks of me. I know that’s on me, though, as an adult.)
Even though I absolutely hated, dreaded those phone calls she made me make to my father, her sitting next to me making sure I didn’t leave out any of the horrible things I was supposed to tell him. The anxiety and guilt was so intense I would sort of dissociate and just try to become totally numb.
I’d be in my room and all of the sudden I’d hear her banging things in the kitchen screeching my name at the top of her lungs, in this hysterical, enraged, almost animalistic voice. My heart would sink. It was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Far worse than being screamed at myself. She’d sob and squirm and flail and beg me to “tell your father what he’s doing to you!” “Who loves you more?” “Who’s the abusive one here, me or your father?” Then she’d shoot me the most intense and terrifying look as if to “you better do exactly what I want right now or you’ll be sorry....” I wasn’t literally, cognitively scared she would hurt me or kill me my god it was like we were back in the jungle in those moments. She’d literally jut out her jaw as if growling. It really felt animalistic. I get chills just thinking about that look. I can’t quite describe its affects except to say I was instantly stunned into helpless submission. I’ve yet to encounter anyone with the same ability to stun and scare you into complete submission merely with their eyes. It’s spooky.
She seemed legitimately insane this whole time. Wailing, inconsolable, totally incoherent. I was so scared and could not figure out what to do. All I knew is that I was dead meat if I told anyone. And that I couldn’t leave. She’d get me back and make life 10x worse than before.
Sometimes I would be so filled with fear and anxiety and guilt during these episodes, where I was forced to verbally abuse my dad, that I became mute. Like literally unable to speak. The words wouldn’t come out even though I needed to say them to survive. I’d try to say them and Id just panic and become unable to speak. I’d begin crying and hyperventilating, Sometimes I‘d hit myself, unable to stop even when I tried to force myself to stop. Or I’d feel compelled to hide under the nearest desk or table and curl up into a ball. Looking back I think I was dissociating. I was so overwhelmed it was like I just shut down. id look away and say everything she wanted me to say to my dad, but in the most monotone and lifeless voice imaginable. My mom would get furious at the insincerity of my tone and I’d try to muster up some (fake) genuine emotion but I often couldn’t manage to. I wonder if it’s because some part of me was dissociated or trying to dissociate.
She would also send emails and text messages from my phone to my dad often without telling me. This wasn’t as painful as the face to face interactions, because I could avoid the guilt and anxiety or it, and my mothers texts to him form that phone were so outrageous, and obviously in her voice, that it was quite obvious to my dad who was texting him. I found this a blessing in disguise because I didn’t have to participate when it was happening .
I can’t believe I just submitted to her. I should have reported her abuse of my dad and just gone and lived with my dad.
Anyway, these fights especially scared and confused me because the gender roles were reversed. I was an only child and didn’t tel anyone. I always prayed the neighbors would call the cops. still have so much guilt about what happened to my dad and my part in it.

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