Content: Biological mother issues, emotional abuse, emotional walls, letting go
Dr. D and I discussed grief over not having what he calls a healthy mother. I said I don’t grieve not having a healthy mother, I grieve not having my mother. I’ve been very clear over the years that what my heart sought most was some kind of way for my mother to see me as someone other than a disgusting rag to be used up at her will. I wanted to be someone she could look at without disgust, without false blame. She couldn’t do it or wouldn’t, it doesn’t really matter which. Even after my mother was diagnosed with dementia, I still hoped to be something other than disgusting to her. I figured if she couldn’t remember me then maybe she’d look at me with something other than disdain. That didn’t happen.
In the last year I’ve not actively looked for a mother figure. As a matter of fact I’ve watched my behavior, measured the behavior of others and tried to keep myself safe from the strong desire to seek out a mother figure.
This conversation of course moved to Betty. That situation is so complicated it’s not even funny. Sometimes I’m so clear about what needs to be done but other times I feel trapped, like I can’t get away because I owe her something. I get a lot of cruelty and a little bit of nice and feel like I have to repay the nice tenfold. I honestly don’t know how to get all of me (me and everyone in my head) away from her. She, just like my birth mother, wants her hands in every part of this household. The power struggle with her is unrelenting.
I don’t want to make her happy by calling her to tell her I made corn bread in the cast iron skillet she brought over here at her own discretion and without prompting. Cooking is something we have most in common but it would be nice if half the stuff in my kitchen didn’t come from her. She keeps on doing that….and I keep on taking it because saying no is worse than saying yes. When I say no to her its insane. She gets all flustered and defensive. It’s ridiculous. When I told her she has no say in what pets live here with me she didn’t accept it. She wants me to get another animal she can stand me to live with. She even suggested I get a bird. Woman please!!! No birds. No.
Like my own mother, Betty has been willing to pay for what she wants in my house as long as I get exactly what she wants, otherwise there’s nagging and nagging until I become disrespectful to my elders and tell her to shut her face. She nags and nags until I’m the ‘talking through your teeth’ kind of mad where I say, “Shut up! Do not nag me. Shut up!” …… Anyway, this friendship is going downhill so fast but I’m doing better about not calling her and putting up emotional walls so she can’t get to the more sensitive parts of me. I keep the conversation light and easy yet I walk on egg shells the entire time.
The last year of grief for my mother has also been one of healing. I’ve moved away from seeking out a mother figure, moved away from needing mine so much and made friends my age.
I let natural anger for my mother live without the need to justify, encourage it or discourage it.
I let natural affection for my birth mother exist separately from what she did to me. I’ve answered questions about this phenomena but I don’t try to justify it. When it comes to my mother, there’s 99% bad and 1% good. Let me hold on to the good without judging me for it.
After therapy I slept like a log for a few hours. I’m up and ready for a cup of tea. I should think about dinner, too but I doubt that’ll happen any time soon. I’ve got a doll to finish and more studying to do. I figured out that studying when I first get up is the best time of day for me. I do more at night but the bulk of it is in the morning around 10 am. My concentration is best around that time.