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Finally, finally I can put a name to the craziness that my father, my brothers and me have suffered through with my mother.

By the time I was 13 years old, I knew that in her mind, it was all about her. If I was having trouble in school, she'd wonder what her friends would think. Her abuse was verbal, emotional and in many ways, constant.

I was adopted, but she never told me. I discovered it myself at 27, when I saw my birth certificate for the first time. She could have adopted a boy almost a year earlier, but really wanted a girl to primp and dress up, and thus held out. Her expectation of me was to become just like her, which of course can't happen. I was a tomboy, who wasn't even genetically related to her.

Her manipulation of the facts surrounding my birth boggled my mind, when I considered it in the new light. I wasn't even told I was born in a different city. She never wanted me to know I was adopted. And she never wanted me to know who I was.

When I was a senior in high school, I had all the credits necessary for graduation, and more. For fun, I wanted to take a drama class as an elective. I felt it would help me get over the paralyzing stage fright from which I suffered. (I've since licked the problem. I'm a bass-player/singer in a rock band.)

But Mother was adamant. I was not to take drama. There was no discussion. Had I registered for it anyway, she'd just come down to the school and pull me out. She loves a power struggle, which she usually wins. I couldn't get over the fierceness of the denial, too. I felt there was something odd about her over-reaction to something that just might be good for me. I had no intention of following acting as a career path.

When I found my birthfamily, it turned out that my grandparents were vaudevillians, actors and singers. It was in the adoption records, too. Mother never wanted me to be in touch with my own history. In fact, I had to beg her to let me play in the school band and sing in the church choir.

In her day, she had been a very good pianist. She stopped playing about the time I started.

She was very abusive when things weren't going her way. She cut me out of her life completely a few times. I never really minded it that much, then someone would shame me into crawling back to her, which of course, was exactly what she wanted.

She would deliberately try to humiliate me in front of people to make herself look better.

I could continue on and on. I'm really just giving you the basic back-story here. What I really want, besides venting, is to learn how to strengthen myself. I still have to deal with her, although I did spend most of my adult life living in another town or state. Now, I'm in my home town and have to deal with her once in awhile.

I try to set my limits and boundaries, but doing so isn't a skill that comes easily to me. I wasn't allowed to develop that, until I remembered that what I did wasn't up to her. She doesn't get to decide anything for me. It's been coming a little easier, but I'm afraid it'll be a life-long struggle in all my relationships.

Thanks for listening.