This is not the post that i want to be writing. i want to be writing about TTWD. i want to be writing about Master and my submission and where we are now. My school and the kids and these never-ending snow days have me so busy that i’ve had no time to be here outside of lurking and a few hasty comments. But no, this is not about TTWD…
This post is about my bat-shit crazy mother. Beware, it’s long and ugly and mostly just cathartic for me.
i think i’ve mentioned before that she’s the cause of some of my underlying issues. As a little kid, i thought that i had a pretty good childhood. We weren’t rich but we weren’t poor either. i grew up a military brat and even got to live overseas for a while. The experiences that i had as a child because of that i wouldn’t have traded for more clothes or toys.
As i got older, things either started to change or i just started to notice them more. i would wake up in the middle of the night to my parents fighting. My mother started to punish more frequently and more harshly. Outside of punishments, she stopped participating in our lives. She slept. She came out of her room to yell, punish, and watch TV. Oh and go to church where she got the deep-seated belief that she was right and that the rest of us were her problem. Meanwhile she ignored her bipolar disorder, severe depression, and suicidal tendencies.
My dad gave up several times. He would leave for a while, go crash with friends, then come back and try to make it work. Sometimes for weeks he would be gone; sometimes a couple months. Eventually, he left for good. He just couldn’t take it anymore. i think he waited until i was old enough to take care of myself and my younger brother. My mom would tell us that he was the problem that he didn’t want to live a righteous life. Then she’s drag us to church and ask everyone to pray for us. I learned quickly that the best/easiest thing to do was to do things her way. So i tried to be the good, righteous, religious church girl. i tried not to get into trouble. i tried to follow all her rules. i tried to be the best daughter that i could be. I felt horrible as a teenager and just wanted a normal family. The inner struggles kept me up at night even when her crying didn’t wake me. Then add to it the growing attraction that i felt towards the same sex and the overwhelming confusion there.
But i wasn’t good enough. i wasn’t righteous enough. i could never live up to her impossible expectations for me and she’d flat out kill me if i was gay. (at this point, i was already 95% sure my brother was even if he wasn’t) She didn’t want me to live my own life, make my own decisions. She wanted to live my life for me, make my decisions for me, so that she could control and manipulate it. And if i stood my ground? “you don’t love me! you are just like your father! Oh God, why do my children disappoint me?” And it would go on from there…the Grand Manipulator. As a teenager, it worked wonders, i didn’t want to make her cry, see her hurt. i wanted her approval. i would “straighten up” and try better to do things her way. i didn’t see it for what it really was. These games went on for years, further damaging my sense of self-esteem and self worth, my confidence.
Eventually, i had enough. i was 18, in college, working. And starting to develop relationships with people outside of the bubble that my mother had kept me in. Conversations had started to make me realize that she was suffocating me. i finally found the nerve to move out and go live with my father. The weight off of me was almost immediate; it was like finally being able to breathe again. i didn’t quite “go wild” immediately, but i try to put the part of me that followed my mother’s beliefs simply to please her away. i made my own choices. i had premarital sex going to hell for that one. underage drinking that one too. my first lesbian experience oh definitely that one. Got piercing and then another one, then a tattoo. Yep.
No guilt. Not an ounce of it. My father even knew about most of this at the time or found about later and all he asked about was whether i was safe. That’s all he cared about. Safe sex and no drinking and driving. No holding his love over my head so that i made better decisions.
i began to heal. i would occasion have contact with my mother. Trying desperately to have some relationship with her. She is my mother after all. Our relationship was a rollercoaster.
She would call in a low and tell me that her children were a disappointment to her and that if something happened to her, we could find a letter located somewhere. i would spend an hour telling her that we weren’t, reminding her of everything that we had accomplished in our lives and reminding her of what she had to live for. The last time though, i did get pissed and told her that if we were such a disappointment, then she might as well just end her life and i hung up on her. That was a decade ago. Guess what? She’s still kicking!
There have been other events over the years where her attention whore ways and manipulations have hurt my family and i. She has stolen from us, claiming that belongs that she should have relinquished when she divorced my dad are rightfully hers. Destroyed memories from our childhood out of spite. She has caused more scenes than i can remember, drawing attention to herself and her “needs”, always at the expense of others.
About 4 years ago, i cut her out of my life completely. There was a really good reason, a final straw. i just couldn’t take it anymore. More importantly, i had children now and i wasn’t sure i could trust her not to affect my children the way she had me. My husband stood behind me and supported me. Again, just like when i moved out, i felt relieved and freed of a burden. It still took a while to get over the anger and the hurt from that event. To finally wash my hands of it and not care. She tries to contact me every so often. i don’t answer her calls and emails. my kids do get the cards and gifts that she sends them and i do make sure that they respond to her with thank-yous.
i have waited over the years for her to want to make things right. For her to acknowledge the hurt and the pain and for her to own up to her actions. But she doesn’t. When she calls, her voicemails tell me that she loves me and she misses me and that i need to forgive her and get over my anger. But she still doesn’t get it. She can’t. She’s too narcissistic. Everything is about her. No one is right but her. No one is good enough but her. She is never wrong. She will never admit to being wrong. She justifies all of her actions with excuses and scripture.
i know that my past has affected my present. i know that the way she treated my father taught me some bad ideas about relationships. i know that i have a very ingrained sense that despite my confidence level approaching any task that it will not be good enough. That combined with my Type-A personality makes me a basket-case when it comes to school, grades, assignments, even work. It even affects TTWD because if i fail or think that i might fail in a task, i balk and don’t want to attempt it. And i hate it and i hate that i am this way.
So why all this shit about my mother? Because i got a message that she might be threatening to commit suicide last night. Because her other bat shit crazy sister wants to as well. i just wanted to be finishing up my homework last night. i didn’t want to be drug into her mess. i told her sister if she thought it was more than a stunt to get more attention to call the cops and have her sent for a pysch hold. So she did. Guess it was a real attempt this time. Wow. Only the 2nd time in 15 years and maybe 20 threats that this woman has made. Color me shocked. Though like the first time, she didn’t actually take enough pills to kill her. Narcissist, remember? She thinks too much of herself to commit suicide for real.
i realize that this sounds harsh and maybe you would have to know me and her and have watched the shit we’ve gone through to truly understand it. i’m not discounting that she’s bipolar and has severe depression and needs help. i don’t doubt that she’s in a crappy marriage. But she’s there willingly. And she has resources to leave. She willingly chooses to not get out, to not seek treatment for her mental health because she gets more attention this way. She enjoys being the martyr.
i spend most of last night pissed off to be dealing with this situation. And mad at myself because i have no compassion or concern for her. How sad is that? My own mother and i can’t drum up the emotions to care about the situation. i feel selfish because she stole several hours of my precious study time and i feel like a bad person. i feel like i should care about her well-being, but i can’t. i’m so drained from years of this that there is nothing left and i just wanted my aunt to deal with it herself. i cried to Master on the phone about it. He sent me to bed to rest and refresh. i woke up this morning still feeling like even after all these years of her hurting me that i’m the one in the wrong. i hate that feeling and i wish it would go away. So maybe getting this all out will help me a little. If you stuck it out to the end, bravo.