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.