Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board
Voicelessness and Emotional Survival => Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board => Topic started by: Wildflower on March 24, 2004, 03:41:05 PM
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As I was posting to JacMac’s thread about myths, I started hearing my mom’s voice and how, well, she wasn’t just not there. She was kind of mean. I just need to say this ‘out loud’.
After my father stopped paying for college, I was home on winter break getting a job as a waitress to try to earn money for college. My mother asked me to do the dishes one day while on break. She was sitting on the couch as I washed the dishes and I could feel her staring at me. I was tense. Then all of a sudden, she blew. “You don’t contribute a @#*%& thing to this household!” She was right, in a way, because my paycheck wasn’t going far, it took me a while to find a job, and there was only so much time off for vacation.
I was caught off-guard, though, because when I was in high school, she used to get furious with me if I tried to ‘tidy’ the kitchen (it was impossible to find anything in the pantry…dust…expiration dates…piles…and whenever you opened the cabinets, things would fall out on you). I was interfering, though. She knew where everything was (but whenever I asked her where something was, she’d say, “oh, it’s around” and smirk). She had a system. She didn’t want me to organize things. They were fine the way they were. But she didn’t cook. She made a point of not cooking and defending her right to never spend time in the kitchen. And one time she tried to humiliate me in front of her boyfriend because I was cleaning the counters and washing the dishes. She made fun of me for trying to be so good, like I was up to something (the truth now and then is that I love clean surfaces and they give me great comfort – something I’ve learned in interior design classes).
Her mother abused her terribly. But she wasn’t too nice to me either.
Wildflower
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Wildflower: I've been meaning to write to you to say that first of all I liked you immediately because of your quote from Harold and Maude. That is my most favorite movie of all time. I have practically memorized the whole movie, and the Cat Stevens music in it moves me to my toes. I think it was a "taste of freedom" for me. It gave me the message that I was okay and that life would be okay, and could even be fun! So, I felt as if I "knew you" immediately when I saw your quote at the end of your posts.
After reading your post today, I felt so sad for that girl trying to make things clean in the kitchen, make order out such a mess, and having to be so frightened of the "lurking" monster in the background who might "pounce" at any moment.
My mother was the same in her meanness although she was the opposite...a "clean freak". There was nothing anyone could ever do to please her, or make her happy. Nothing was ever done right.
But, I thought about you and how your life must still be affected by those moments of trying to do something helpful, knowing all the while that it probably wouldn't be right, and that you would be abused for doing it in the end. How simply awful. I'm so sad you had to go through that. Sally
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Hi Sally,
Sally: That is my most favorite movie of all time. I have practically memorized the whole movie, and the Cat Stevens music in it moves me to my toes. I think it was a "taste of freedom" for me. It gave me the message that I was okay and that life would be okay, and could even be fun!
Me, too, me too!!! :D :D :D I’ve been pondering listing this movie on the “Things that help” board, but I can imagine how it could upset some people so I haven’t. But this movie is like my bible in so many ways. My screen name actually comes partly from the scene where Harold tells Maude he wants to be like one of the daisies because they’re all alike, but she helps him see how they’re all beautifully different. :D (The other part is the song I posted - admittedly in a randomly emotional moment :oops: - by Tom Petty, which is about how people deserve to be free and safe from harm.)
Sally: But, I thought about you and how your life must still be affected by those moments of trying to do something helpful, knowing all the while that it probably wouldn't be right, and that you would be abused for doing it in the end.
Wow. I never thought about it that way. Is it possible that this is what’s adding to why I feel so ripped apart when I reach out to my mother when she needs help? Is the same dynamic happening and I just can’t see it? Need to think about that. :?
Thanks so much for your kind words, Sally. :D
Wildflower
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Jacmac: I'm excited that it had the same effect on you. Not excited, Wildflower, because it made you remember something unpleasant, but excited, because I believe in putting these things to the back of our mind (denying them) we instinctively recreate them in the present and try to deal with them now, since we're older and smarter.
Thanks again for creating the Famous Last Words thread. I also hope lots of posters add to that thread because I’m so curious to hear what other false truths have kept people paralyzed in their lives.
And it couldn’t be better timing, for me at any rate. :D This is exactly what I want to be able to do more of right now – identifying and stripping away the lies and false filters to get at the truth of what it meant to grow up in a household like this. I’d planned to do most of the work in private or with my therapist, though, and I debated pressing submit on this posting because I’ve thought about this incident before. I’ve even told certain close friends about it. Why did I need to bother you guys with this? Am I just being needy? Trying to get attention? It’s just a random yucky bit of facts about my relationship with my mother, and facts that may never make sense to anyone else.
But I think I needed to say, once again, take 7, for the record: my mom was mean to me. The first time I ever said anything was when I was 8 and told my best friend that my mother didn’t love me. I see now that I couldn’t expect another kid that age to understand that – just as I couldn’t expect myself to understand that. Too big. But that’s how the rest of my life has been until discovering this board – as much as my friends and others may have cared about me, no one could validate what I was going through, and they all assured me that my mother loved me as all mothers do. Just after college, I made a promise to myself to stop upsetting people with talk of my family problems.
What’s weird is that, in making that promise, I was able to move forward in my life in some ways by having a life without dragging my family into it. But now I wonder if I didn’t also manage to brainwash myself a little into thinking that I had things under control. :?
For the past year, though, two people have been coming to me to complain about my mother, and I’ve been fighting back this urge to scream back: “She’s always been like this. Where were you when I needed you to understand? I grew up in this mess. Didn’t you see that?” :evil: But they didn’t. They do now, though, which must be why all this is coming back up to the front of my mind as if there’s hope for finally laying it all to rest.
By the way, I’ve been meaning to say I’m sorry I failed to respond to your comment about the fact that we must be seeing each other all the time. I got caught up in another thought at that time, but when I go out for lunch these days, I think about you and wonder if you’re in the crowd. It has made me think about how many people wander around looking normal (well, normal for NYC at any rate :wink: ) but are struggling inside with such tough issues.
Wildflower
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Wildflower,
Emotionally unavailable, not there, mean.
They can look right through you, right at you and say the most vile trash.
I realized this is coming from anger they never face, from issues they bury. From this, I try to learn so I can break that cycle with my children and husband.
When I err with the people I love, I work in earnest to repair it, as I would hope they would do with me.
The narcissist just can't do that. They never learn to say, "I was wrong." They never learn to think about how their actions or words affect another, or at least they can't bring themselves to say so.
I am thankful for the resource of the internet and support forums such as these which add to my tools for bettering my life and the lives of people for whom I care.
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Hi Wildflower,
I have to admit I read your post yesterday and my stomach lurched when I did. I was so angry for you! My NSIL is just like this. "I'm not competent or adequate, so don't go thinking you are. In fact, this is so important to me, I'll arrange things to make sure you are as frustrated about life as I am." My NSIL expects complete servitude from those around her, but don't expect her to thank you for something you are supposed to do! And if you do manage to do a good job, well, you've only succeeded in making her feel inadequate. She would get angry at her H for cleaning up! It's crazy.
My NSIL would set up my kids for failure: put out breakable things when they were small and bound to pick them up and break them. Put them in charge of the adopted hellion she couldn't control herself to take the fall when he broke things. She'd smirk if they fell down and hurt themselves. In fact, occasionally she would urge them on in whatever activity until they did fall down and start crying. This was the beginning of the end for me. Anyone who smirks at another's pain is a little scary...
She is only my SIL. If I had her for a mother I probably would have killed myself, or at least run far away. I do not say this lightly. She's awful. It's telling that that is exactly what she did. Run away from her family, that is.
Anyway, I recognize the crazymaking of your mother and wonder how you coped with it. Take care, Seeker
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“Seeker wrote: In fact, this is so important to me, I'll arrange things to make sure you are as frustrated about life as I am."
That really sums up much of my life with my mother, although I don’t think she was entirely aware of it. Not that her lack of awareness made it any easier for me to live through.
Seeker wrote: Anyway, I recognize the crazymaking of your mother and wonder how you coped with it.
I realize that may not have been an actual question, so I hope you don’t mind if I treat it as one. I’m not sure I understand a lot of what happened, so I’m not really sure how I coped. But that’s exactly what I’m on a mission to find out right now in my life. The short answer, though, is that I almost didn’t cope. Like many people here, I was driven to suicidal thoughts while I was living at home. I didn’t really have the courage or energy to act on my desire to die, though. I just prayed every night that I wouldn’t wake up the next day.
A few years ago I had the opportunity to tell my mother that I had been suicidal during high school. First she said she had no idea that I was in trouble, but she knew I was pretty upset. Then she said she had been suicidal when she was my age. And like so many other times when I’ve tried to talk about my problems with her, she turned it into a ‘bonding’ moment – and an opportunity to talk about her experiences. Hello? She did the same thing when I had my first panic attack that landed me in the hospital. “Oh, I used to have those all the time. That’s just a part of being in your 20s.” :shock:
RedRose wrote: Emotionally unavailable, not there, mean.
Sorry. Part of me wants to vent about all this stuff, but this thread is forcing me to see that she might be an N after all and that makes me really, really sad for her. The meanness was the only thing missing (how could she have been mean if she wasn’t there??) As crazy as this may sound, I feel like I’ve lost her. :cry:
Wildflower
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Hi Wildflower,
Afeter I confronted my mother on the telephone I asked her how she felt. She paused as she realised the usual "devastated" would not be enough.
"suicidal she said.
I said "have you ever thought that I have been suicidal"
"I'm not repsonsible for that" she said.
I also flirted with suicidal thoughts for years So I can empathise with you on that one.
Thinking back, I always feel when my mother tried to get you to do something it was always giving an order. I fyou rebelled and tried to stand up for yourself she would try to pyshologically crush you.
Sh threw me out when I was sixteen as I wouldn't pay rent. It wasn't so much the rent but the way she went abot it that was so damaging. I ran upstairs crying and she sent my dad (enabling all the way) to get me to pay.
"tell him he can pay xxx" it was the way she sent someone else to make an offer and wouldn;t face me in a reasonable way. I was obviously upset and said no, my dad passed on the message and that was his job done. no offers I'll support him or anything (they were separated at the time.
The next thing I know I was called downstairs my bag was packed and I was told I could stay with a neighbour. This neighbour also played the role of father trying to get me to pay the rent, trying to cajole me. Obviously, the position I was in and the age I was how could I possible yexplina that I was fighting to survive my mother was crushing me. How could I possible back down from this? If I went back how miserable my life would have been.
I was fortunate in that my grandparents, were my dad was living, allowed me to stay - in a camper bed behind the settee. I offered to pay rent and my grand mother wouldn't take it.
SO that's how I was crushed, my mother won. Hands down.
Years later I saw her get on the bus with my younger sister. My sister got on first, saw me and sat somewhere else. mother sat next to her and pretended not to see me. It was obvious. I said "time for a reconciliation then" "oh hiya" was the response in that completely false,exaggerated voice.
no more contact for several years.
I then found out she had cancer so I got back in touch. immediately fell into the same situation. she would randomly bring up things she must have felt guilty about.
"the reason you got the same allowance as your younger sisters is you got from elsewhere"
"we don't talk about you, you know" (she talks about everyone when they're no there - and in a derogatory way.)
I realised I detested almost everything she said and the fact that I stuffed it down and didn't respond (partly out of fear of her reaction) meant that I was slowly dying. Once she was over at my house and she talked about how she was talking about "us" to her sister and her sister said "you're pushing them away" I felt the strongest ruge to speak and scream YES but didn't say a word. the life completely drained out of me. My mother saw this, pretended to yawn,said I'll come back when you're feeling better. my fault - zinged again.
That's why standing up to her was the hardest and the best thing I ever did. It took me months. It was a complete failure in a sense - she manipulated me into anger and gave her the opportunity to paint me in a bad light but she would have done that anyway.
The first time I did it, I phoned her after a sleepless night. "oh you got up just to say that?" (subtle belittlement) "oh I've been hurt too" she then said. It was looking back after that call I realised I had apologised for even bringing the subject up. I had nothing to apologise for. So I did it again and this time I made sure I would not back down and leave the ball in her court. So no more contact.
Now don't get me started on dad ! maybe I'll save that one for later :)
Sorry, rambled away again.
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Wildflower,
I think I misunderstood your previous posts. You said that you wanted to state that your mother was mean to you. Now you say perhaps that couldn't be if she just wasn't there, at all.
Are you wrestling with guilt over what you feel about her? I know I do.
I know I wrestle with this as I have children of my own. I'm not perfect, and my childhood is something I have had to reflect upon and overcome to be a better person and parent. I know I have had and will have shortcomings as a parent, but I know, deep in my soul, that many of my mother's actions and words were mean. They didn't have to involve an emotion she was feeling toward ME. I realize that, now, but it doesn't make the hurt and indifference I feel toward her go away.
She was at times emotionally unavailable, even physically unavailable. She was at times filled with emotional rages and alcohol. She was at times filled with vicious words and I was there to take the verbal punches.
We can all err and do this, but an N person will never do anything to correct themselves or to attempt sincere apology. If your mother is like mine, everyone else is to blame and there are grand situations made in her mind as to why everyone else is to blame.
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Hi Longtime Lurker;
That's a sad story and I can feel the utter frustration you must have felt in dealing with the 'monster' mother. As I was reading your story I was thinking how ill it must make you to stay in contact with her; how could you ever get any peace or feel good about yourself being sround someone so destructive like this? I hope you stay away from her and build a good life for yourself with healthy loving people to support you. :) Surf
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thank you for the kind thoughts surf. :) I intend to stay away from her. It's been almost one year since I've seen her or any of my family.
I have to be resolute and strong and stay away. The relief that she is not in my life is amazing.
My dad's in pretty much the same boat as her, but in a different way. maybe I'll save that one for another day lol :)
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Hi Red Rose,
Are you wrestling with guilt over what you feel about her? I know I do.
Yes. Absolutely. I don’t think you misunderstood me, Red Rose. I think I’m in a bit of a flux right now. :?
Every time I think about something my mom did that hurt me, I have this knee-jerk reaction to explain it away: “Her problems were bigger than mine. I got off scott free comparatively. How can I attack her when she’s in so much pain?”
I’m starting to think I was ‘trained’ to react that way, though.
And it’s one thing to come to terms with the fact that she was emotionally and physically unavailable, but it seems almost too much to say she was actively mean to me, too.
I used to know that she was mean to me, though, but I shoved it down – and it came back up two days ago in the sound of her voice as she fended off one of my attempts to reach out to her as a child.
She was at times emotionally unavailable, even physically unavailable. She was at times filled with emotional rages and alcohol. She was at times filled with vicious words and I was there to take the verbal punches.
We can all err and do this, but an N person will never do anything to correct themselves or to attempt sincere apology. If your mother is like mine, everyone else is to blame and there are grand situations made in her mind as to why everyone else is to blame.
This describes my mom without the alcohol, and I have to accept it. I don’t want her to be an N, because it seems so final on so many levels. But part of me knows she is and has known for a long time that we would never have a good relationship (which is why I moved away and haven't been home in years). Ridiculous that I’m fighting this so much. Sorry to take up so much board space with this confusion. :roll:
Wildflower
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Hi Wildflower
Are you fighting it so much because you're ricocheting between 'either-or' instead of 'both-and'???
Her problems were bigger than mine. I got off scott free comparatively. How can I attack her when she’s in so much pain?
Supposing (just supposing) all that were true...what's the missing piece of the jigsaw???...what's the key that would open the door 'outta here'???
I don't have an answer in mind, just wondering....
R
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PS
She was sitting on the couch as I washed the dishes and I could feel her staring at me. I was tense. Then all of a sudden, she blew. “You don’t contribute a @#*%& thing to this household!”
What struck me about this was that you did the work whilst she sat around. (Mothers do; I do; they/we are allowed!) But there wss something in here about you having done as you were bidden, obediently and without question that nagged at me. And then what JUST struck me is the fact that you doing the work made her feel guilty - so she dumped on you what she really thought about herself. Cos what she then said made absolutely no sense at all - you WERE contributing - in washing up you were making a contribution. Seems totally obvious to me without any doubt that at that moment you WERE making a contribution.
Maybe it's just what her mother used to say to her whilst she sat around doing nothing in her youth. Or you could extrapolate the theory that every time you do something good for her, she both needs you AND her guilt/shame button gets twitched.
And I realise as I write that this is what happens with my mother.
The last time we spoke, she said towards the end of the conversation that I was being nice to her. I was watching the sky at the time and was distracted by the fact that a bit of a rainbow was peeping out from between some clouds. I was thinking how appropriate this should appear as my mother was actually saying something nice to me.
I said that she was being nice to me (implication being that I wish she'd learn that what she puts out to the world is what she'll get back from the world)...and WALLOP! straight down the old regular route of verbal assault, same old recriminations, on and on, me defending myself, putting up walls. Per-lease, you've said the same thng hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times in the past 30 years. She was happy but I reeled and limped away from the phone. A moment's distraction and I'm open for an assault!
The rainbow had disappeared by the time I next looked out. That was a couple of weeks ago and it's taken me all this time to recover again. In fact my body rebelled big time and I've been on antibiotics and all sorts. Cheesh!
Does this connect? I've rather lost my 'helicopter view' in talking about my own mother. I suspect there's a link somewhere!!!
But it's time I went to bed! Night night!
R
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This is the entry I deleted. It helped me make a few jumps in thought, so I thought I'd re-post it. It also seems to touch on some of the arguments that were brought up by Rosencrantz and Survivor. It may be extreme, but it opened a door out, I think. :?
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Jacmac: I believe in putting these things to the back of our mind (denying them) we instinctively recreate them in the present and try to deal with them now, since we're older and smarter.
Rosencrantz: Maybe it's just what her mother used to say to her whilst she sat around doing nothing in her youth. Or you could extrapolate the theory that every time you do something good for her, she both needs you AND her guilt/shame button gets twitched.
Child (naturally picking up messages from a parent):
What did I do to deserve the treatment I got? What did I do that upset her? How can I stop this behavior? How can I stop upsetting her? How can I be good? What am I doing that’s bad?
Adult (armed with knowledge of N’s):
What was she getting out of her interactions with me? What did she need from me? How did it help her to frustrate me to the point of rage and hysteria?
When I last spoke with my mother, our last incredibly upsetting conversation that sent my body screaming out for help, she explicitly confused me with my grandmother three times. For examle, she started telling me a story about ‘my father’ (my grandmothers's father). :shock: Yikes.
I’ve said a hundred times, I was her mother growing up – in many ways. But this little seed has been growing since that phone call. Maybe I wasn’t allowed to be the nurturing, caring mother I hope to be some day with children of my own. Maybe I was supposed to be like her mother. I know she expected me to be like her mother (she’s told me as much on various occasions). But….she needed me to be like her mother?? Manipulated me into being her mother???? So that she could finally win her battles???? :twisted:
I feel sick.
Wildflower
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My sister and I have noticed that our Nmother says things to us or about us to other people, but she is really taking her own inventory.
Examples:
She will tell people that I am "crazy" or "need help because I'm mentally ill", etc. (In reality, it is HER that needs the help!)
She will tell people that my sister is "greedy" and "wants all of her money, things, etc." (In reality, it is HER that is very greedy and a hoarder!)
Does anyone else ever experience this kind of behavior? We have certainly realized our NMother tells on herself all the time. If you just listen to what they say, they will spill the beans on themselves! :roll:
Survivor
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Hmmm, I do know whenever, (and for a long time now), if an argument starts between my mother and me, and i lose the rag, she is prone to saying something like 'i'm going to call the doctor!!!!!!'. She used to do it years ago actually, before i was diagnosed with depression etc, but now thats i have been classed as having depression, I guess 'in her mind' there is even more validity to such crazy statement, or that she can get away with it, rather.
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Yeah, Survivor - but this is where I get REALLY confused - cos if she's projecting onto me, then surely I must also be projecting onto her.
So if I said in return that 'SHE'S the one who is crazy and needs help because she's mentally ill", I'd be saying it about myself.
This is where I got really lost in 'therapy'. I could see all the stuff this psychiatrist was doing but...wasn't I just tranferring onto him what I saw in my mother? And if so then it didn't really exist in reality. He can't have been 'doing' to me what she 'did' to me...and maybe that meant she wasn't either!!!
Except, she said, really limping now - HE WAAAAAAS!!!!!
Neither my mother nor that psychiatrist were able to 'tell the truth', neither of them saw 'me' as I was and neither of them was prepared to hear they might have got something wrong without punishing me for THEIR shame.
Except once...one day the psychiatrist said something that suggested he'd had some insight and there was hope...but by the end of the session he'd slipped back into his old 'self' and I despaired.
Why did I keep it all secret? Why didn't I tell anybody?
- Because the idea of being crushed by denial and obfuscation by the psychiatrist/my mother was too much to bear. My sanity is only safe if I keep it all a secret and don't let anybody mess with it.
- Because of the shame of letting it be known
- Because I was afraid of my father's 'disapproval' - for 'telling tales' on my mother - represented there by the psychiatrist's senior colleague who I'd met briefly. He was the only other person to 'tell' and I couldn't face his disapproval and disbelief. And yet I knew all this, I could write it down then as now - if someone could have just released me, shown me where the door was hidden, I knew the truth. But nobody ever did...
Round and round and round, instead, with no way out. Just terror, fear and being alone. Not that anybody else knew - I was brought up to provide an outer 'face' for the family, I think - a happy, successful persona with a wide social circle.
This is also what I experienced someone 'doing' to me via pm. It might be her problem (projecting) but it created problems for me (confusion, fear and shame).
So I get my 'helicopter view' (looking in on all sides from 'above' rather than from 'inside') and I know the truth, I know reality, I know what's rational. I know what it 'feels' like, even if I can't always find words. Even if the truth is not 'allowed'. But my foundations were crushed by 'therapy'. The whole edifice crumbled and nothing was built in its place. I am easily undermined, the rug pulled out from under. I'm either up in the air or down underground - there's no ground floor!!!
But my 'no more secrets' rule (created when my father died) has meant I've risked talking about what's happened/ing.
It's still not 100% 'safe' as it depends on whether other people are strong enough for the truth, open to the existence of the 'N' thing, really understanding what makes people tick - or whether they are in denial (etc) - and who is the arbiter of which is which???
So I keep a large question mark beside me for humility's sake, but I choose to believe in what my 'soul' tells me. And bit by bit, person by person, validation by validation, I'm getting stronger.
And no-one - but no-one - gets to mess with MY sanity and boundaries again!!!!!
Be warned :twisted: :wink:
Except - doesn't that take me back to 'lonely' again??? With me being 'strong' for everyone else and nobody being 'strong' for me??? (Not that anybody else 'should' be strong for me but I seem not to know how to be 'strong' for myself!!!) Oh God - I'm stuck going round and round again with NO WAY OUT! :?
R
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Rosencrantz, you wrote: Except - doesn't that take me back to 'lonely' again??? With me being 'strong' for everyone else and nobody being 'strong' for me??? (Not that anybody else 'should' be strong for me but I seem not to know how to be 'strong' for myself!!!) Oh God - I'm stuck going round and round again
I know, just in part of my healing and self-observation, I had come to a realization that people are people, and they will let you down. Hell, you will let them down. You'll let yourself down.
I see my mother desperately trying to find happiness from others, yet she is "let down" many times over. Why? She just doesn't realize that she needs to find her own identity. Then, couple that with the grandiose demands she places upon people, especially those that she never voices.
It's no wonder we are caught in this hellish place of floating aimlessly from one extreme to another until we reach a point where we say, "Enough!" and we no longer live to impossible expectations.
I'm quite introverted, anxious, and at times apathetic about the human race, but I don't want to be. I'm also learning that it's all right to set boundaries and if people don't like it, so what? I also had to learn that people can say no to me and that we are not here to please one another on a twenty-four hour basis.
It's maddening. :(
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You guys are so amazing. Really. :D I can’t express how wonderful it is to have a place to get to the heart of these issues instead of seeing the pitying, blank stare of a friend bewildered by my stories.
My subconscious has been screaming almost as loud as my body lately. It’s so strange, but twice in this month something in me has called out to go root around in very specific places. The first was when I found myself writing that "when I’m stressed, that 8-year-old or 12-year-old with unresolved feelings screams out". I get 8, but 12? My therapist recommended that I find pictures of myself at both ages and talk to the girls in those pictures. Listen to what they had to say. I have to say, as familiar as I am with those pictures, I was shocked by what I found. I was alive and well when I was 8. I know I was in pain, but the pictures show a goofy kid who smiled easily. The 12-year-old was a wholly different story. She had forgotten how to smile, or even how to breathe. :cry:
And now, ever since the memory at beginning of this thread was stirred up, a voice in me has been saying, “Find that journal entry – you know the one.” I knew it, and last night I mustered the courage to read it. What I found is that I knew more then about the mechanics of my mothers power over me than I seem to know now. :shock: :shock:
If I knew….then what’s really going on now? Why is it so hard to know again?
I dug and dug. I faced some pretty painful journal entries – not painful because of any descriptions of abuse, but painful because of who I was. My high school journal entries were almost incoherent because I had, apparently, slipped almost entirely into an imaginary world. But the journal entries I wrote starting in college (my escape) show a steady and determined progression into reality. More and more clarity. More and more detail. More and more connection to the world. More and more understanding that I didn’t really know who I was. More and more focus on reclaiming myself.
Still. Why the difficulty in facing these memories? :?
Because in order to access this pain, I have to go back to a person I’m not proud of. A person filled with hatred and bitterness. A person reeling with confusion. A person whose pain hurt those around her.
I was a bit of an N by the time I left home. There. I said it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my struggle since then has been to expel one N quality after the next from who I was. I wasn’t a true N, I don’t think – but I had been taught to be one. I spoke the way my parents spoke. I was too self-absorbed by my own pain to realize how I hurt others. I was so easily injured. I was in so much denial.
I didn’t want to go back there, because I made the connection at some point that by dragging up the pain my parents caused me, I risked staying sick. Well, things are different now. I have a core (a small one, but it’s a start). I have connections to the outside world. I know how to treat people with kindness (and I do, every chance I get – as if making up for lost time).
My mother was horrible to me. She almost killed my soul and my body. She robbed me of so much. And she made me believe I was horrible – even caused me to be horrible.
There. I said it. And the world is still standing. And I’m still a nice person and have the smiles on people’s faces to prove it. And I can still feel so sorry for my mother. And in a way, I can say goodbye to her.
Wildflower
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Yeah - Brilliant! Million million megabucks brilliant! Once you get that 'inner N' thing you're well down the rocky road to recovery. :D
Hugs for the kid in High School in that terrible state of confusion.
My photos are of me aged 7 and aged 8. Aged 7 I was me; aged 8 I had become defined by my mother (and I hated the her/me that I had become). I had to be her/me and she has fought me for the rest of my life to become again the her/me that I left behind.
You'll find lots of what you've talked about in your re-posted post in 'When You and your mother can't be friends' - well worth a read as it sets out the process very clearly. They treat us like their mother and so we become like their mother. I know I spent my teens believing my mother thought I was HER mother ie horrible and mean. But it's really an unconscious process.
When we are 'defined' by others (as children) we lose ourselves in the process. And that makes us vulnerable to be being 'defined' by others, too.
R
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Thanks R! :D :D :D :D :D
I feel a gazillion times better now that I’ve had a chance to talk about this!
I wonder how many others have before/after pictures out there??
It’s just so twisted, all of this role reversal stuff!!! I’ll buy that book now. I’m going to need all the help I can get to hold onto an idea as weirdo as this. :shock: :roll:
Wildflower
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Dear Rosencrantz,
You wrote:
"Yeah, Survivor - but this is where I get REALLY confused - cos if she's projecting onto me, then surely I must also be projecting onto her.
So if I said in return that 'SHE'S the one who is crazy and needs help because she's mentally ill", I'd be saying it about myself."
Projection requires a person to be unconscious of what they are doing. If you are aware of yourself (and you have shown repeatedly here that you are!), chances are good you are *not* projecting.
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Thanks, Jacmac. :D That means a lot to me. I have to admit, I was feeling a bit like hiding yesterday because I was worried that by using the N word on myself, people might be wary of me in the future. That may be, but it’s encouraging to know you and R heard and understand me.
I missssssss the little girl that I once was sooooo much!!! I'm longing to find her again.
Me, too. I keep a picture on my mantle of myself when I was about 4, and every now and then I look at her and wonder how anyone could think a child could be so threatening. And yes, I miss her and try to listen to her all the time. My way of bringing her back into me – the present me. :)
Wildflower
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Dear Wildflower,
I can relate to your story. When I was in high school I was quite sarcastic and cynical (a defense mechanism). Plus I was highly critical of others (and myself, of course) for many, many years. In fact I was engaged at one point to a man who broke up with me because "I wasn't nice enough to other people". It has taken many years of dismantling my own self-judgment to get to the point of deep compassion and understanding for others. I'm still doing more dismantling so as to be easier on myself. It's all a process, right? :)
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Hi Christy,
That must have been so difficult to hear :( . I still squirm a bit when I think about the time several years ago when my oldest friend said she didn't want to share an apartment with me. :oops: Ouch.
It has taken many years of dismantling my own self-judgment to get to the point of deep compassion and understanding for others. I'm still doing more dismantling so as to be easier on myself. It's all a process, right?
Wow. It's so comforting to know that someone else is doing this work, too. :) It seems to get easier all the time, doesn't it? Really tough in the beginning, but less guilt and more connection and joy as those successess build up? :)
Thanks for sharing this, Christy :)
Wildflower
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Yes, Wildflower, you are right. Every tiny connection point adds to the inner network that says "hey, that wasn't my true nature and I don't want to live like that". It reminds me of the statement "Every arrow you shoot has to pass through you first".
More freedom, more connection, allowing more of our true natures to show...this is about reclaiming ourselves and our right to be who we are.
I was puzzled when my fiance broke up with me all those years ago. He made some statement like "well, naybe if you got some therapy" which also puzzled me. No puzzlement now after I did do therapy and a heck of a lot of other things. The judgment and criticism were pervasive. Ugh.
Speaking of "ugh", I have to go get ready for work. I have tons to say about the imposter syndrome (yes, yes, yes!) but it will have to wait.