“...if a mother could carry out such heinous acts on her daughter, who else could I trust?”
Humans of Medicine #35
(In collaboration with COVID Bukan Alasannya)
Trigger warning: The following article contains elements of violence and suicidal thoughts which some may find disturbing.
Part I
“Am I still alive? Where am I? Where is she?”
Tears rolled down the side of my cheeks as I attempted to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. Amidst my disorientation, I needed some sort of affirmation that it was all a dream – a bad one revolved around the negative themes of abandonment and murder. The voice of a loved one over the phone soothed my racing thoughts and provided me with the reassurance I needed.
I did as I was instructed – hiding any form of sharp objects that could potentially be used as a weapon. I was uncertain of the events that had transpired between my mother and a neighbor of ours but I had been receiving text messages from my mother claiming that she intended to kill her as soon as she came home.
And I was to be the next victim when she was done with her.
I locked myself in my room, dreading her return. When she finally did, I could tell that she was intoxicated. Thunderous noises reverberated through the house as she banged on my door with a chair and demanded that I came out of the room. Sensing that my life was in danger, I instinctively called the local authorities for help. Despite my multiple attempts at contacting the police, they were nowhere to be seen. My fear intensified with every passing second and I could do nothing but wait.
Sixty minutes felt like an eternity but help eventually came. I had phoned the police in hopes that they would be able to send my mentally unstable mother to a psychiatric ward to receive treatment but to my dismay, that was not possible as it went against their protocol. My mother, highly intelligent and manipulative by nature, managed to throw on a façade and convinced them that there was nothing amiss despite being under the influence of alcohol. To my horror, they fell for the act and had commented that they did not have the authority to take her away. To add insult to injury, my uncle who was at the scene bribed them to leave.
I could have left. The emergency bag that I had prepared prior to the incident was lying in my room. However, when I was offered the opportunity to leave, I passed on the offer. Reluctance and hesitancy plagued my mind as I was unaware of the severity of the situation. I had been trapped and indulged in this toxic and vicious cycle since a very young age. On one hand, it was numbing as I had gotten used to the abuse and on the other, it was addictive.
When they finally left the scene, the ticking time bomb exploded.
Everything that happened next was a blur. She went into a state of hysteria – screaming nasty remarks at us and demanding to find out who had called the police. The fear and distress that I was feeling had completely masked my ability to act or think rationally and all I could do was obediently follow every instruction that I was given, even if it was at the expense of my life. It was as if she was a puppeteer controlling my every move and all I could do was obey.
I lost all sense of control over my actions. I was instructed to break up with my boyfriend in front of her and I did so without sparing a second thought. The situation took a turn for the worse when she ordered me to jump off the building. I would have been dead if it were not for my uncle who pulled me back to safety. She had the nerve to make a mockery out of the failed suicide attempt, remarking that she intended to test my love for her.
Overwhelmed with trepidation, all I could afford to do was clench my fists and talk to myself. ‘I’m going to die’, the sentence played repetitiously in my mind like a broken record as I came to terms with my imminent fate. The two men present at the scene, namely my uncle and my mother’s boyfriend, were unable to help as my mother was rather aggressive and dominating. If they could not help me, what chance would I have?
Thankfully, my boyfriend hurried to the scene. At that point, I was drained to the core as the ordeal had dragged on for six hours. My mother was infuriated by my incessant crying and lifted me up forcefully by my jaw. Her sudden gesture startled me as she had not been physical with me throughout the years. I hardly recall how the situation subsided but the next thing I knew, my boyfriend had brought me into my room……
Part II
I was physically alive but barely living. After the incident, I dissociated with my surroundings and I could only do the bare minimum. I was not sad but I was at my breaking point. The immediate help succeeding the incident had been a crucial element in the recovery stage and I am fortunate to have the support of several parties to help me through those harrowing moments of my life. My counsellor, who I had been in constant communication with prior to the incident, came to my aid immediately. She got hold of the anonymous email that my housemates wrote to the university’s emergency hotline as I had bid my goodbyes to them. She explicitly advised me on the next course of action once I had calmed down, and arranged an emergency meeting a few days following the incident. Listening to my experience, she exposed the abnormality of the situation and requested the intervention of the university’s clinical psychologist upon my approval. I would have succumbed to suicidal tendencies if it was not for the university’s student support service. It was heart-warming to have someone check in on me every day as the concept of kindness was one that was foreign to me. I was well acquainted with insincerity because if a mother could carry out such heinous acts on her daughter, who else could I trust?
The intervention of the Women's Aid Organisation (WAO) came at a later stage when a social worker reached out to me. Adhering to their protocol, they were only able to assist me if I decided to lodge a police report. After some discussion with my counsellor and clinical psychologist, we concluded that it was unwise to do so as the repercussions from a police report would exacerbate the situation.
Accepting that I was a victim of family violence was the hardest part of moving on. Despite acknowledging the good intentions of my loved ones, I disregarded the need to retract myself from the situation as I was comfortable with my caregiver. I had tolerated her ill treatments all these years, what difference would it make? A major contributor to my inaction was denial. After much encouragement, I decided to put my foot down. Enough was enough. I deserved a better life and abuse in any form was unacceptable. Fooling myself that everything was alright was the reason I was stuck in this unhealthy cycle when in reality, my mother did not feel any remorse for her actions. I made the best decision in my life – expressing my desire to leave and move in with my father. By some miracle, my mother presumed that I had a physical illness and agreed to my request.
I was wary of my decision. Growing up, I had always perceived my father as the antagonist. Little did I know how misleading my mother’s words were and I came to the realization that she had been brainwashing my sister and I with lies. He is a good man even though he has his flaws. Due to his traditional mindset, it was an arduous task trying to explain the situation to him. However, he eventually agreed that it was in our best interests to completely sever ties with my mother.
Some days are better than others and I am still dependent on counselling sessions and medications. It was as if my conscious mind had moved on but my subconscious was still holding on to the memory. I have been working with my counsellor to control the tendency to turn to regression as a coping mechanism during extremely distressing situations. It was a threat to my safety as I would involuntarily adopt a more childish mannerism and follow through with whatever instructions that I had been given, as if I was a six-year-old child. I have gained a better insight on my mental health which allows me to recognise the signs and prevent myself from a meltdown. Needing to regain some sense of control and power over my life after the incident, I resorted to an unhealthy obsession over calories and numbers on the scale. Admittedly, I am not in my best shape but counselling sessions are therapeutic and have been helping me immensely.
The stigma and awareness surrounding the topic of family violence is rather atrocious amongst Malaysians and a solid safety plan to guide victims or bystanders has not been established. Under normal circumstances, the first image that comes to mind with the mention of this terminology is a perpetrator physically abusing and inflicting injuries on his or her family member. However, abuse can be classified into several categories. I had experienced control, emotional, intimidating, isolation, verbal and economic abuse throughout the years. Judgements and jokes about family violence are unwarranted, yet people still do it. You never know how an individual is feeling. Instead of playing the blame game, find out how you can play a part in helping the victims. If you are at a loss, phoning emergency hotlines can be a great help as the immediate action that should be taken is to retract the victim from the scene.
Till now, I have yet to master the art of formulating pictures into words and might come off as nonchalant. However, I have come to realise that if I do not voice out, how will people know what I need or what I feel? How was I going to improve and move on from the incident? I started pushing myself to convey my thoughts and needs in a specific manner. Being reciprocated with precise questions encouraged me considerably to speak my mind. Things have not been smooth-sailing as I do have instances where I feel like I am back in that horrific situation and I might not feel comfortable to share my worries. Nevertheless, a hug from a loved one never fails to lift me up, even if just for a little while.
A little progress is better than none. What matters is that you are willing to take that first step. I understand how difficult it is to break the cycle, but never give up. There is only one person against you and that is the perpetrator. The whole world is out there to embrace and support you in every way possible. You are strong and brave and you are a survivor, just like me. Ultimately, the survivor always wins.
For further insight into the interviewee’s situation, see also:
https://www.mytherapist.com/advice/psychology/what-can-regression-psychology-do-for-a-person/
https://www.acesdv.org/domestic-violence-graphics/types-of-abuse/
About the author
Interviewed by Wan Yan Ru and Aliah Jaafar Sidek (CovBA Ambassadors) and Chloe Goh Sue Yee. Written by Chloe Goh Sue Yee.
Consent has been obtained from the interviewee for the purpose of this publication. The author has rewritten the article with permission from the interviewee.
Humans of Medicine is a new initiative under MMI. We tell inspiring stories behind portrait shots of our everyday unsung heroes. Curated by Malaysian medical students from home and abroad.
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