Sins of Our Mothers Skeletons in Our Closets

I nestled in a tomb for a womb. I was trapped, held captive, listless, apathetic, even before I was born. That's how it felt to be conceived out of deceit, lust, and sexual abuse. I walked around for quite awhile as a child and as an adult, feeling repulsive, loathsome, like a disease. I was spawned in darkness my mother's secret, vile sin. I was my mother's entrapment. She was obliviously unaware that she could get pregnant, that she could get caught. My mother was numb, robotic, trying to figure out how to get out of an impossible situation. Slivers of ice pierced my little soul. It was impossible to feel safe knowing she wanted to get rid of me, a parasite, feeding off her body. How could she convince her husband that he was the father of her baby? Her sexual addiction and perversion created this horrible predicament. She was pregnant by her fifteen year old lover, who was fatherless, with a mother that was incapable of taking care of her children, living in poverty and despair. She had to convince her husband that this child from the border of Mexico needed a chance to have a good life without letting him know that he would be taking this teenage boy to Indiana who was the father to his wife's baby. My mother was bipolar, mentally ill, a sociopath that not only got pregnant by my fifteen year old father but went on to abuse me in every way imaginable. This is my story. People have a hard time believing that women, especially mothers who are supposed to protect their children can be molesters, and pedophiles but my mother was one. I am not only telling my story for my own recovery, exposing the sins of the mothers in our family, but to help others to see that if this happened to them, they are not alone and they can recover and have healthy, reasonably happy lives and help others in their journeys to wholeness.