As a step-mother of 13 years, it's assumed by most of society that I'm evil. And no matter how I've worked to put the needs of my husband, my step-children and even the PEW (ex-wife), ahead of my own and my children's -- I'm still seen as 'The Problem' by most of the parties involved. What I do is never enough. What I don't do I'm informed I should have done. And ALWAYS I did more for those children than their own mom did.
As much as I knew it would take time for my husband's parents and family to accept that I'm not the PEW, that I truly care for him and my children, I could do no right and was talked about badly every time my name came up. I fell short because I didn't 'let him' see his mother enough. I fell short because when I came in to pick up my children my m-i-l was babysitting, I would pick up my infant bio-child before greeting my step-children. And now that my crazy m-i-l didn't come to my oldest step-son's wedding becuase she was drug-shopping at an ER, and I've forbidden her to see my children until she checks into rehab, I'm definately the bitch. And everyone likes to forget she drank my 8 y.o. son's Tylenol 3 days after his tonsils were removed and he still needed the medication. And stole half my vicoden after my gallbladder was removed. I'm still the bitch. And my husband hasn't bothered to set anyone straight.
As the daughter who was sexually abused by her older brother, I am at fault because I'm STILL not over what he did to me 25 years ago. I am in the wrong and resented because I finally refused to see him and pressed charges against him after finding out that there was no statute of limitation on the degree of abuse he inflicted on me. It seems that giving me all my parents gave me, though they never condemned his actions but instead excused them, is supposed to make up for the damage that was done to my personality and spirit. I'm supposed to blame all the damage on the date-rape that happened my freshman year in college which brought everything I'd tried to bury, as the 'good daughter' to save my parents hurt, to the surface and lead to an emotional breakdown. It shouldn't surprise me that this is the case because even when there was clear and evident psychological and emotional abuse at the hands of my older brother, my mom chose to not get involved and I would be punished by my dad when I would finally lose it at my brother. I was the one who squawked, I was the one who was punished, never protected or defended.
It seems that the hurt and damage I've accumulated over the years, some of which I thought had been dealt with several years ago and now find is back in spades, means my husband can go into a funk and not talk about or try to help me deal with this. The revelation that there is still more abuse that I've never divulged to anyone (concerning my brother), and that several years ago when dealing with all that crap was suicidal and no one ever knew is met with silence. And avoidance.
I'm at the point where I don't know what to do now. Don't know where to turn. Shutting down seems to be the only way to save myself -- but that means living forever with the voices in my mind that tell me I'm worthless. And my husband's reaction? Confirms my worthlessness and that I've never, ever -- not even as a child -- been worth defending and protecting. And if my husband can't deal with supporting me in this, how am I supposed to deal with living with it? Or trying to face it and put these things in the past, or at least in perspective, where they belong.