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Anonymous:
Hi Wildflower I'm back and have got time to talk and I fear I'm gonna ask you some real dumb annoying questions as I go.

--- Quote ---But she was fighting desperately for her OWN independence by rebelling everything her mother said/did/required – and it was that ‘independence’ that I was allowed. Not my own.
--- End quote ---

Gosh that's insightful of you! But also damn bloody annoying mix for you to have had to deal with! I'm trying to think of any other reasons!! Control? Fear? Jealousy? Resentment at being hogtied? Simplicity? (Because it would have been simpler if you were just like her) Just checking :) I'll leave it there.

No, hang on. Who said to you the other day, what was it? Someone, (had to be Rosencrantz or Portia) said for you to say something like, "And mom, while you're in your next crisis I'll time my breakdown to coincide."

Then it was asked whether she lays this crap on everyone, or is special treatment just for you, to get you focussing on her. Like when you were a kid you learned quickly every single detail of her likes and dislikes. You must have known her every mood just as well. One look for watching a TV show she disapproved of could speak a thousand words to you.

And I just have such hard time seeing your mom fighting for her independance!! I'm sure you're right, maybe she wore herself out in that area.

--- Quote ---But … that’s it. I mean, so much of what my mom did could have made sense if there had been enough positive reinforcement to balance it out. And if I hadn’t continuously been set up for failure? I was never really guided, but boy did I hear about it if I was doing something – anything - wrong.
--- End quote ---
I wonder what or why she was criticising really you? I wonder who or what you represented to her?

--- Quote ---She could have watched me and learned from me, but instead, she silenced me.
--- End quote ---
Maybe she's afraid of the truth! You represent the truth about her to her.

You represent the truth about her personality, her life, her choices she's made, and in the end her inadequacies. If she could only see how proud she should be that inspite of her best efforts to suppress and silence and control you, you've blossomed into a beautiful, loving, giving, friendly, helpful, caring soul. And that the way you are going, you're going to have a very happy life.

Why? Because you know something that she doesn't know. You know that you cannot find peace by avoiding life. And another difference is that you make an effort to enable everyday life, and fill it with a sense of your soul. Thanks for that Wildlfower, and if you can't see that, that's okay, it's still true.

--- Quote ---And she pushed me away because she couldn’t deal with the responsibility of really taking care of a child. This reinforced the monster message, because it said to me that I was so bad, even my own mother couldn’t bear to spend time with me. :cry: :cry: :cry:
--- End quote ---
How she managed to project her own image into and onto you has got me beat!!!! I don't know how the hell she did, but I KNOW, DAMN IT, that that's what she did to you. DAMN IT!! Can anyone explain this to me?????

--- Quote ---And I see now that I probably never would have been able to challenge this deep down belief if I hadn’t pushed myself out into the world in spite of some almost paralyzing fears of what I might discover about myself. At first, I did get a lot of negative feedback, because I was so angry and hurt and defensive. Wounded. But I learned, over time, to change the way I interacted with people – first by watching how others interacted and trying to understand why I didn’t, and then by refining my interactions with the help of a therapist. I never would have guessed that, in doing all this, I would have found myself. Again. And knowing who I am – or at least, knowing more about who I am - has given me the courage and the strength to finally face this poisonous belief – and squash it.
--- End quote ---
Back to the image I have of you. You embraced life, and made changes to enable and enrich your everyday life. You didn't try to avoid this personal responsibility we all have. To make the world, our corner of the world a better place for you and for me...

Let's all sing together, We are the world, we are the children.......dah de dah du dum, so let's start livin', Hey, come on, I can't see your lips moving. :D :D Ah, I can never remember the words.

--- Quote ---knowing, finally, after all this time, that I DIDN’T DESERVE IT. I AM NOT A MONSTER.
--- End quote ---

You most certainly are not, and never ever was. I hope the word monster recedes in your mind, and that you find new beautiful words replace it. Like warm, kindhearted, loyal, funny, catlover, goodlistener, generous, clutter/fridgemagnetfree, clean benchtoppped, Tom Petty fan kinda person, with a stomping cat named Astro who loves travel.

(((((HUG HUG))))) and love

CG

Anonymous:
Back again Wildflower, I loved reading this post.

--- Quote ---And I should be proud to express myself – through clothing
--- End quote ---
. Gee I laughed when I read this. I'm really into attitude T-Shirts.
Friends give them to me sometimes. And I've got a poor old David Bowie t-shirt that I've had for about 25 years. It's been washed 10 million times and has holes and is paper thin, but I can't part with it. When it finally dies I'm gong to have wake for it.

But I love those attitude T-Shirts. You know the ones that if you haven't got the guts to say it, you wear it. Friends have tuned into this outrageously and buy them for me cause they know I'll wear it. I've got some beauties!!!

A black one with huge white lettering "Warning, this body contains, adult themes, nudity an strong language," :D

or then there's brown one in large letters" I'm a virgin" then underneath in small letters "this is a very old T-shirt." :wink:

Or the white one with the Nike tick turned upside down and the black words "Just did it". Ha ha ha ha, :D oops, nearly choked on my apple then. :oops:

Then there's my lovely feminine Barbie one with Barbie at mini-skirt best that reads, "Barbie is a slut." That one didn't go down well at the P&C meeting, I can tell you. :shock: Aaah, I love them.

Oh yes, and my all time favourite, the blue one, (blue's my favourite colour, then yellow, purple, green, more blue, turquoise, yellow again, then blue.) The blue one says, "Here, hold my beer while I snog your boyfriend." Loveit. Loveit Loveit.

--- Quote ---It’s still really hard, though. I still feel like I’m not cool enough to pull off some of the clothing I kind of want to wear. I don’t know if this helps. I’m really just responding to your comment about not feeling like you’re worth spending that kind of money on.
--- End quote ---
I guess I've given up on that one at the moment. But hey, I'm saving heaps of money!!

--- Quote ---
--- Quote ---It was a virgin moment. I was extremely anxious, clumsy and messy. But I was damned effective. My children may have witnessed her insanity and cruelty for abrief moment in their lives, but with me protecting them from her I don't think it has caused any lasting damage. I know they learned something about me then. And I gained some of my power back. There was a shift.
--- End quote ---

This must have been such a difficult, strange and exhilarating time for you. Were you married at that time, or did you have to do all the moving and detaching on your own?
--- End quote ---
No, I wasn't on my own, but I may as well have been. It was scarey, and over time I've realised it was instinctive, rather than calculated. Funny how had her evil been directed towards me, I don't think I would have noticed for weeks. The way my thoughts, feeling and emotions suffer jet lag and and an enormous time difference. But when evil or harm is directed towards others close me to I'm right onto it, and I don't panic or lose my cool. I'm a totally Cool Hand Luke in a crisis. It's something I've got a bit of a reputation for. At work also, when everyone else is in a flying panic, I'm completely able to think and stay totally cool.

I think it's because of a form of disassociation and depersonalisation. :D :D :D My emotions switch off when I'm threatened or scared, and something else takes over, "How we gonna get out of this huh" and I'm operating in an out of body way. I'm in the third person. It's not me, It's just a part of me. A therapist I had once said it was connected to PTSD. You know how in the movies, you'll see a scene of abattle situation. The new recruits are all ducking and hiding, but the seasoned soldiers and CO are wandering around, making plans, talking, ducking occasionally and lighting a fag. That's me. But hell, it's only useful if you're always in combat, and then you can still get your head blown off, and I don't want to always be in combat. I'd probably make a good ambulance driver except I can't stand the sight of blood.

Story. 20 years ago when my neice was only about 8 months old, I was visiting her house for a family get-together. Her mother came running out with her from the bedroom holding her. The poor baby was purple-faced, not breathing, choking. It took everyone by surprise and everyone froze, and don't ask how or why but I casually, I mean casually took her off her screaming mother and put my mouth over her nouth and nose and sucked for all I was worth. Something dislodged and flew into my mouth, which I just swallowed. I've got a really weak stomach and I didn't want to know what it was, but then she started breathing. We think it was a button off her jacket.

Then another time I just ran out in front of a car to grab another friends little boy, and held my arm up for the car to stop, while I scooped him up and off the road just in the nick of time before we both got run over. He just ran out onto the road for no reason when we were shopping. He was only about 2 then. I could go on, I've got quite a few of these rescue stories where I just go into some instinctive rescue mode when everyone else panic.

--- Quote ---
--- Quote ---Yeah sure, and while I'm at it, why don't I go buy myself a bucket of death adders to keep me warm in bed tonight, you useless peice of ...."
--- End quote ---

:lol: :lol: :lol: Tell me you said that at some point because it’s hilarious.
--- End quote ---
I think I proabably would have, maybe worse. Fastest mouth in the west I have at times, but only when pushed.

--- Quote ---I got similar reactions if the subject of my dad came up after he told me he’d spent all his money (on a third story to his second home among other things) so he couldn’t continue to pay for my college tuition. I was working as a summer intern at a bank when this typically aggressive banker type guy overheard me talking to one of the other secretaries about visiting my dad that weekend. I think I said something like “I’d rather burn in H***.” (These were my difficult years, mind you :roll: :wink: ). Well, he comes over and starts giving me a lecture about the importance of family and how his father and his sister stopped talking for years and years over some tiny little insignificant thing, so I should be careful not to do that and blah blah blah. I was so angry my eyes started tearing up and I came really close to punching him. Reeeally close.
--- End quote ---
What a supercilious, arrogant, loves the sound of his own voice, show-off disguised as well meaning, useless peice of dog-turd. Oh, I sincerely apologise to all dog-turds everywhere, as dog-turd is definitely not useless, my peach trees love it.

--- Quote ---Hunh. Hadn’t intended to go on that tirade. :oops: :D Anyway, the conversation between you and Mrs Couldn't Give A Stuff is talked about quite a bit in the book R recommended that I’m reading right now: When You and Your Mother Can’t Be Friends. The third chapter, “The Bad Mommy Taboo”, is all about how abusive mothers are protected by so many mechanisms in society – to the point where the needs/protection of the abused child are ignored in order to protect the sanctity of motherhood
--- End quote ---
. I'm gonna buy that book. You've got me interested.

--- Quote ---From where I sit, reading your stories, I think your mother belongs in jail or in a mental ward for the criminally insane. :evil: I’m not kidding. The fact that she hasn’t been arrested for assault (setting someone on fire??) is astounding to me. Although I guess it’d be too embarrassing for a guy to go into a police station and explain how he got burned like that?
--- End quote ---
Poor guy lost I don't know how many layers of skin. She made a potion of stuff that they used on farms to burn warts off. Gosh it was awful. I sometimes wonder if the hair ever grew back or if he ever told anybody.

--- Quote ---Was John the only one who ever stood up for you? Where were you when her other boyfriends were around (when she wasn’t having sex with them – I know where you were then, and yes, that has to be a form of sexual abuse :evil: )?
--- End quote ---
There were other occasional people, one brief boyfriend she had made me a jewellery box and gave me my first and only push-bike at about 10 years of age. But no intervention and most others didn't bother or were ineffective against her charm and cunning. She was absent so much, a wild party girl running with so many groups, crooks, gamblers, casino's etc. My mother loved having connections. She was very loose and a very vivacious attractive one. Never without a date, ever. And would dance till dawn every night of the week.

She looked so much like Elizabeth Taylor, and people would tell her that all the time. And so she dresed like her and wore her hair like her and changed her first name legally to Elizabth. And she's had more men than her, way more. And at home living with her was like living with Taylor in 'Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf' I spent so much time alone as a child and then finally I left after I found out my father had died. Gee that's alot of stuff I've said, isn't it. You probably need to stretch your legs now, I know I do. That'll learn teach you for asking me questions, won't it?

Thanks for reading Wildflower, and I will get that book when I do my next order from amazon. I'm amazed at the used book prices there. Have you ever bought any of there used ones? If so, what was the quality like?

Wow, I really have to go, I'm realising I've still got so much more work to do, and I've really enjoyed talking with you again.

((hug))

CG

Anonymous:
Hi Wildflower,

OMG, this is my 4th post in a row so I'm a bit embarrased. :oops: Nah, not really, what the hell!! :D :D

I've told you so much about my poor old mother and how she treated me and other people in her life, haven't I. And mostly I'm getting there in terms of putting her to rest in my head. R.I.P mother. But I was thinking you may be interested to know a bit about her background. What it was that went into making her the monster that she became.

As I said in a previous post, I can't afford to feel sympathy for her anymore, because somehow my resolve weakens and I let her back in. But I don't fear that happening here, so I'll tell you some of what I know.
I've had a lot to do with one of her sisters so it all pretty much gels from everyones version.

My mother was born somewhere in the middle of 6 or 7 brothers and sisters and as I've said was very pretty, even as a child. And somehow she had a ruthless creative prankster streak even then. Her sister and even she (mother brags about them herself) have told me some pretty cruel and mean things she did to her brothers and sisters even at ages 5 & 6. Her father was an alcoholic and one time to get money for beer he sold his kids pet dog. Her mother had all these kids and not much money, so the kids did without a lot of things, like shop bought items, but because they had a farm they were self-sufficient during the depression.

One day when she was about 9 or 10 walking the 2 or 3 mile journey home from school with her 2 older sisters an old guy invited them into his cabin for some lollies. He lived alone in a worker's cottage by the side of the road in the farming community they lived in. They'd been warned to stay away from him, and also had been warned and were told he was a dirty old man. Her mother used to drag them all off to Sunday School and Church every Sunday, rain, hail or snow.

Her sister's refused to go in and told her not to, but she argued with them, told them basically to bugger off, she didn't care if she did get into trouble, and in she went, into the old guys cabin. They ran home and told their mother what she'd done. Her mother didn't go and get her, she had babies and work and animals and had to wait till my mother finally got home. When she got home much much later she was interrogated and inspected against her will. Her mother believed she had done something 'dirty' with the old man for some lollies. She denied she had, but her mother, and her by then home and furious drunken father didn't believe her.

They packed her up and sent her to live in a Methodist home for pregnant and 'naughty girls' where she had to stay till she was old enough to be signed out by a family member, who happened to be one of her older sisters. One of the one's who'd told their mother on her all those years before. She was 18 by then and completely full of hate and never had forgiven her sisters for telling on her. She always said they told on her because they were jealous because she was prettier than them.

She can and could never grasp that they were only kids themselves and scared. After she got out of the home she went to live with that older sister who was now married to an accountant, and living a very conventional happy life. In exchange for free rent and food she was supposed to look after her older sister's young baby daughter while her sisiter and brother-in-law worked. Mother said her sister only signed her out to get a free babysitter. She wasn't living there long before she set about being extremely cruel to their baby when they were at work. So they kicked her out. The rest of her family wanted nothing to do with her at all by this stage so she became a dancer and card dealer in casino, and a wild girl about town. I was born 2 years later, when she was 20. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I grew up on a heavy diet her 'poor me' stories. Her sister, my aunty is a really good mother and a very loving understanding aunty to me. I didn't meet her till after I'd left home. But one thing I promised myself, I'd never fill my kids heads with my horror stories, and I haven't. And I'd never excuse my behaviour towards my children with anything from my childhood experience and I haven't. So I think that's good. :D Tricky stuff this parenting business!

I thought you might find the background interesting because I've talked about her with you so much. But you know, it always broke my heart when she told me stories about missing her brothers and her life in the home, and having xmas, and birthdays in the home with no presents. I think I used to spoil her for a while when I got older, till I had a family. I bet her wrapping paper trick, she learned that in the home. See, I can understand her, and start to feel sorry for her so quickly. That's why I don't go there anymore. It's like, "Hmmm, who shall I blame next, her mother and father?"

No, I think I'll stop looking for someone to blame, and put it all in the context of the theatre of the absurd, and just take responsibility for and work on my shit. Then maybe I can do everything I need to make sure the rot stops here with me. :wink: What do you reckon??

((hug))

CG

Wildflower:
Hi CG,

--- Quote ---And I just have such hard time seeing your mom fighting for her independance!!
--- End quote ---

If you haven’t seen this movie you probably shouldn’t, but if you want to get a sense of who my mother was rebelling, think Joan Crawford in "Mommy Dearest". Complete with tantrums – though I don’t think she ever beat my mom with wire hangers. She was that controlling and invasive – and that much of a clean freak.

For me to clean up or go anywhere near my mother’s ‘territory’ was an invasion. And somewhere along the line, she made the connection between her mom and my dad – and at various points in my life, I reminded her of Dad, Grandmom, or herself depending on the situation. While she fought against Dad and Grandmom (against me) for independence, she was identifying with me (receiving support from me) as I struggle through life - but she didn't have any answers for me so she let me drift.

So by controlling me, by silencing me, she was able to keep her own life under control. And by leaving me to my own devices, she was "ending the cycle". What a strange and confusing mix of signals, hunh? :shock: I'm gonna leave you all alone when I can't deal with it, and if you remind me of my mother or your father, I'm gonna beat you down so I don't get hurt. That’s my current understanding in any case. Probably need to do some more tinkering with these theories, though. :?

Combine this with this very interesting paragraph from When You Can’t Be Friends:

--- Quote ---But even if the mother is altogether “bad” and the child can’t avoid that conclusion, she explains it to herself by believing she is a bad girl and deserves her mother’s anger and rejection. At the same time, the child, in her normal, egocentric way, believes that her anger has the power to annihilate. And so the child guards against her own bad feelings, because she doesn’t want to hurt Mommy. Either way, the child has “caused” her mommy to be “bad.”
--- End quote ---

and I think we have the missing piece to how I ‘lost’ myself around her. I'm not saying she was altogether "bad", but Secunda goes on to explain how, without enough positive reinforcement to help the child learn to resolve the "good" and "bad" mommies, she internalizes the Bad Mommy. I think. :?

Anyway....

--- Quote ---They packed her up and sent her to live in a Methodist home for pregnant and 'naughty girls' where she had to stay till she was old enough to be signed out by a family member, who happened to be one of her older sisters. One of the one's who'd told their mother on her all those years before. She was 18 by then and completely full of hate and never had forgiven her sisters for telling on her. She always said they told on her because they were jealous because she was prettier than them.
--- End quote ---

Wow, CG, this seems to go a long way to explaining the Why’s, don’t you think? So she parked you in front of the orphanage just like she had been? :idea: Only she was really left there. I’m not suggesting you should empathize with her, but it does begin to explain her need for revenge. And it explains something else that you hinted at with the wrapping – :idea: she wasn’t really that creative. :shock: Heck, she even modeled her life and hair and everything after a movie star. Even changed her name. She may have been cold and cruel enough to play those awful tricks, but as R so wisely pointed out, she was stupidly cruel. And she didn't have the guts to be herself instead of stealing the identity of a movie star. Maybe even the cat story could be traced down to some story she read (but acted on!! :shock: :shock: :shock: ).

--- Quote ---So they kicked her out. The rest of her family wanted nothing to do with her at all by this stage so she became a dancer and card dealer in casino, and a wild girl about town. I was born 2 years later, when she was 20. And the rest, as they say, is history.
--- End quote ---

Again, this really paints so much more of a clear picture in terms of why she was so sexually active – especially in front of you. Not that it was excusable, no way. But I’m wondering what it must have been like to be there through all of that – a child living with a woman like that. A child trying to negotiate the world she created for herself.

On my way to work this morning, it occurred to me that it must have been so shocking to hear those stories – coming from your mother. When it’s a movie, we suspend disbelief, and when it's over we shake it off or say wow wasn't that a scary story. :idea: But here you were listening to the woman who was supposed to take care of you, and she was telling you horror stories. Real horror stories. Did you want to run but had to stay there and listen? Seems to me a fantastic reason to learn to disassociate – if fight or flight aren’t options, switch off the emotions. :shock:

I guess what I’m getting at is that you’re right. You can’t feel sorry for her, but maybe you can look at what happened in your story from the outside. Imagine another little girl in your place struggling to cope with all the hard things you had to cope with. The bit about being a child of the Depression – maybe even that’s a good, safe, objective place to start. My grandmother was also a child of the Depression – and I think her father was an alcoholic, too. Maybe NPD is a historical/cultural phenomenon. A cycle that’s been going on since a very traumatic time in history – one we’re only beginning to heal from.

Maybe I’m babbling at this point, but if you can, I think it might really help to be able to reconstruct your story – YOUR story. Not stories about the awful things she did (though those are important to understanding what happened), but the story of your survival – what you had to do to get here, today, with your children, your husband, and us. :D

You are an amazing survival story, CG. :D How you managed to come out so strong and caring and kind in the face of all tha tyucky stuff is a mystery to me. But I'm so glad you did. :D

Well, it’s time for me to go recharge my batteries out in the world for a little while. See how it feels to wander without the monster monkey. :D I’ll be here, though. Just probably won’t be able to respond as often.

((((BIG HUG THAT SQUISHES OUT ALL THE BAD STUFF)))) :D :D :D

Wildflower

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