I didn’t realize I’ve been so sad. I thought I was dealing with my mother’s craziness (here and here) exceedingly well. It turns out I’ve merely improved on past reactions to her nut-ball-ness… and that I’m not such a paragon of “I could give a shit” as I thought.
I can see why I’ve been so clueless about my own sadness. There hasn’t been time to feel it. I started that new job and training was a big ordeal and so has getting used to the new ropes and all. Then hubby left for vacation without me. I stayed behind to take care of our stray (that we’re still trying to trap), Mr. Orange. Hubby left the day my mother disowned me. I was surprised and how “whatever” I was about it. Apparently I was just holding it all together, so I didn’t implode when I had little support at home.
Given my history of eating disorders and self-harm, I’m glad I didn’t do anything along those lines. The only symptom has been my utter lack of willingness to participate in my own blog or to check or reply to emails. I had no idea what the heck was wrong with me… I realize now that I was just trying to hold things together and keep things very simple, so I wouldn’t fall apart. I needed every ounce of energy to get this new job down and not have a break-down while hubby was gone…
Well, he’s back now and I feel the tide of sadness rolling in like a tsunami. I suppose I finally feel safe enough to feel the feelings, now that my biggest supporter is home and I have some days off work.
Big sadness is scary for me. In the early days of therapy for eating disorders, PTSD and depression a flood of sadness that I had held back for decades drowned me. I spent most of the time every day crying. I cried in the office. I cried on the train home. I cried over the dishes as I washed them. I cried in the shower. I woke up crying in the middle of the night. I am so tired of crying. I am so afraid to feel this sadness I feel welling up. It’s been a long time since I was so depressed or had really bad flashbacks. I also have a sense that allowing this sadness to well up is going to cause flashbacks… and I really don’t want to go there.
But, I guess I have to. It’s either deal with all this or continue trying to micromanage my life to such an extent that I have enough energy to keep the pressure cooker of feelings closed. And, that pressure will just build and build and the amount of energy required to hold it all down will become more and more. It’s just not worth it. Been there. Done that. It sucked.
I’ve been wondering why I’m even sad in the first place. I’ve come to the point where crazy is what I expect from my mother and I also expect her to try to give me trouble in any way she can think up. She bigger the better seems to be her motto. My step-father also said that she thrives on chaos. Maybe he has a point. She doesn’t seem to go more than a few years without completely cutting some family member (that she used to be close to) off for “disloyalty.” Pretty soon she’ll be living on an island by herself.
I don’t think it’s her recent episode of bull that is even bothering me. What bothers me is that every instance of abuse from my mother just reminds me of all the other abuse… even worse, the abuse that happened when I was a child and had no way to protect myself. She made it clear that it was either put up with her nutty behavior or I could go be homeless. She made this clear to me when I was 12-years-old and reminded me of her resolve constantly, because she TOLD me of it constantly.
If I complained that she constantly ran around the house naked or left buckets of her own urine under my bed (no kidding, she did this) or that she grounded me for entire summers with no warning because she felt I had too many friends or that my father beat me…. well, I should’ve just been happy that they bought me clothes and that I had a Nintendo to play. To my parents the abuse didn’t matter. The proof of their wonder-parenting was in my wardrobe or video game and music collections. It didn’t matter that my mother was a pathological liar and my step-father (who raised me) a rageaholic. I didn’t matter that my mother couldn’t seem to help herself from making sexual comments to me or telling me details of her own sex life (this started at age eight) or that my step-father ranted that I was a whore to anyone who would listen (including visiting family members) when I hadn’t even held hands with a boy. They allowed me a small collection of nicknacks, so that made it all okay. The fact that I stopped speaking as a teenager for several years was really just a symptom of my own selfishness and stubbornness… it couldn’t have possibly been PTSD or depression from all the craziness I’d been through.
The memories just hurt. I end up feeling like that scared little child again who is stuck at the mercy of big, scary adults who don’t seem to see their own failings, abusiveness or hippocrisy…
Every time my mother (and I just mention her, because my step-dad is no longer abusive and I have cut my bio-dad and step-mother off for their abusiveness) is just another knife in my heart that is already full of cutlery that was plunged in and twisted regularly long ago. Her one tantrum doesn’t feel like just one tantrum to me. To me it is a rehashing of a childhood of torment… like she’s trying to remind me that she’s the one who is really in control and I am just some dirty, shameful child who needs to be put in her place.
I suppose it would be more helpful to see this as it really is. It is unlikely my mother consciously wants to remind me of the abuse. She’s a tantrum thrower. That’s what she does. She throws tantrums and twists words and alienates people and disowns them. It’s like her hobby or something. It does help to understand that this isn’t a conscious attempt to drag me into the past… as for her unconscious, I have no idea what’s going on in there.
I am no shameful and dirty child… I never was. I was a good kid caught up in insane circumstances and I have worked very hard to heal the wounds and learn how not to do to others what my parents did to me. Oh right… now I remember… I’m a survivor. I survived. I’ve even taken these horrible experiences and tried to use them for good… to offer others the compassion that I didn’t receive until I was 25 and finally gave in and found a therapist.
When I am in a wise mood, I am sure that those years of hell were a gift in disguise to make me unique, to make me strong, to be a voice against abuse and to help others in any way that I can that are dealing/have dealth with similar things. In those moments, I feel grateful for the abuse and I feel like I wouldn’t change a thing about it even if I could.
I can’t say I’m in a wise mood right now, though. I hurt…. ouch, it really hurts so bad. Unhelpful questions and statements scream in my mind and keep me from accepting what really happened… I tell myself it was too crazy to have really happened. No people could be so cruel. Such a horrible childhood cannot be possible. Then I ask the ghosts of parents in my mind why they never seemed to see the pain they put me through (and still do) and why they won’t stop the abuse and how could they be so cruel?…
What helps is answering the questions and even the statements… They were so cruel, because they were (and are) very mentally ill and untreated. Such a horrible childhood IS possible and there are many on this earth who have had worse than I have. It IS possible. People CAN be that cruel. People can also be kind and lovely. It is up to me to bring in the lovely people and to give the abusors as little leverage over me as possible…
Maybe all this repressed thought and feeling explains why I have had horrible nightmares about my parents for a week now. The dreams are disturbing enough for me to not even want to sleep. I get up… usually at about 4am and sit on the couch and force myself awake, because there is no way I’m going back to sleep and face the possibility of another dream of sexual, physical or emotional abuse. I drink caffeine. I watch “That 70’s Show”… usually after a few hours have past, I can go back to sleep and not have the nightmares. I am so tired and frustrated with this screwed up sleep cycle…
I need a break.
Again, I find myself wishing that my mother would get amnesia and forget that I exist. I feel like if I knew that she had completely forgotten me that I would finally be safe… because even now I fear getting a phone call from her and going through all this again…. the pretending to be “normal” with all the tension under the surface and my mother getting more and more inappropriate and abusive over time finally ending with a peak of accusations and craziness and being told what an evil person I am and being reminded of years of memories of abuse…
Maybe this time I’ll be lucky and she really will just let me be or I’ll finally have the nerve to refuse to respond to her overtures. All I know right now is that this cycle has got to end. It hurts too much and I’m tired of the flashbacks her tantrums cause me.
Kind words would be much appreciated. For now, I guess I’ll finally let the tears come… even if I’m afraid that I will never stop crying… sigh…
–AngryGrayRainbows
Angry Gray Rainbows 
Oh, Darling,
I wish I could just reach through the screen and give you a HUGE bear hug!!! I know those feelings and living back at home doesn’t help. I thought my crazy ass Brother was finally gone for good but he’s back here for me to tip toe around and not turn my back on. It doesn’t help I have 2 small kids and a Mom and Step Dad who constantly take his side and think I’M the crazy one!
Except for a few things you’ve said about your past, I could relate to a good degree of that. I am so sorry for you and for all of us that have had to endure things like that or worse. I am glad you are able to see that you can get SOME positive out of it and I will be praying for you that your sadness doesn’t become debilitating.
Anyway, I can’t offer any good, wise advice as usual, just a sympathetic ear (eye?) and know that I am thinking of you and wishing you the best.
*Kisses and HUGS!!!*
May I interest you in a *bearhug* and a bunny specially trained in same?
Cry as much as you need.
I know this is waaaay OT, but your username was TOTALLY what I was gonna name my Daughter when I was a lot younger. My real name is spelled almost the same way.
Sorry, just thought it was kinda weird and cool!
hang in there. I know the horrid-ness of a cruel crazy mother. my mom has a tbi (traumatic brain injury, she fell off the hood of a cor in her teens ans was in a coma for 3 days) ..which messes with your temper, rationality and internal thermometer. She was (and still is) CONSTANTLY getting naked in front of guests at her house. she also has a drug problem to the point that i don’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over there beside “cool” college friends.
Her form of abuse came at the hands of her father. he was 600lb and she lived in fear of any of us getting overweight…and she still has that same fear. from when i was 10 on i was put on a diet. i remember being in 6th grade (thats 11 years old) and only getting to drink slim fast for lunch. even thoug i hit 6foot 2 before 10th grade and was just LARGE for my age. yes i am big, but my frame is big. when i exersize i dont lose weight, i just gain muscle….i have been known to work out for 4-8 hours at a time (i used to swim and do martial arts obsessivle until i collapsed, but now i am trying to love my body a bit more) every time i see her its “oh you look great have you lost weight.” she still refuses to see her part in my 20 + year eating disorder, blaming it all on my poor willpower and a “stupid book you read” when she found out about my bulimia/anorexia.
the bottom line is…some people are stupid and cruel. sometimes its their fault other times they are just evil (and stupid) Hold onto those that build you up, they truly have your best interested at heart.
I don’t know you and you don’t know me but I wish I could give you a big hug. I’m so sorry about everything that has happened to you.
The sadness is hard I know, but it’s good to go through it. You can grieve for the happy childhood and loving mother that you never had but deserved to have. And from the sadness comes a measure of healing eventually.
Oh, I am so, so sorry you are feeling so horrible! I have (fortunately) treatable depression, but it took many years to get it diagnosed and find the right drugs. I know that blackness and wouldn’t wish it on anyone, particularly someone who seems so kind and principled and supportive as you. I have no advice, just warm wishes for you in struggling with this.
*Hugs* I am so sorry.
Sending hugs and purrs from my kitty, Jake.
I know it’s hard, but sometimes you really do have to go through the pain to get past it. Just know that there are a lot of people out here holding your hand on the journey.
We’ll all cheer when you manage to feel better without the pressure cooker, too.
You’re going to make it, and I’m waiting right here with a stack of soft hankies to help you.
You are a very brave and strong person! I was reading this and just going wow at every sentence, because I am documenting a girl’s story on Childhood Emotional Abuse and it is amazing that we are from the caribbean and the stories to me are too similar to be true! You need to read this: http://caribbeantranslation.blogspot.com/
Somehow children who go through things like this will get a voice and be respected! It is true that other people go through worse things, and that there will also always be ‘other people’ worse off than the other people, but your pain is yours, it is what you know. You can’t experience other people’s lives only yours. Stay strong, from my husband and I our hearts are with you.
I can’t possibly understand all that you’ve been through, so I won’t claim to, but you have my admiration and support. I think I can understand, to an extent, the fear of going through things that you thought were behind you. That sort of exhausted “oh shit here we go again.” All I can say is, try to trust that you have made tremendous progress and even if you experience some of the old darkness, that doesn’t mean it will be as terrible, or last as long, this time.
*hugs*
It sounds like you need a vacation from your Mom, maybe just for a day or so. Can you get caller ID, so you can let the voicemail or machine take her calls? If not can someone else answer the phone and say you’re not at home?
Much, much sympathy. Such incidents can bring it all back to you as if it were happening now, the feelings of powerlessness we endured as children.
This might be a really helpful “break” in your maturing relationship with your mother. Maybe. I experienced something similar with my mom two years ago, where after a decade of friendly relations, well, she basically betrayed me, and I was reminded of some really powerful, horrible things from childhood, similar betrayals. It knocked me around a good couple weeks — but afterward, I was not only sadder, but wiser.
Sounds like you’re working hard to understand your feelings while also keeping on. Waves of internet-support to you … you deserve better than this treatment, but mom might not ever be able to give it.
It’s really, really tough to “rise above” abuse, and even more so when the abuse is ongoing. There’s nothing wrong with being sad about that, not at all. Just about anybody would be.
You have my deepest sympathies.
I wish I could be there with you, AGR, handing you as many of the softest tissues in the world as you need, holding your hand, letting you cry into my sweatshirt-clad shoulder, giving you hugs, and when you are ready, laughing about whatever there is that you might find the littlest bit funny.
Even without ever meeting me in person, you’ve given me so much and I am forever grateful to you for helping me find my voice and giving me a space here. So as much pain as you’ve been though, you have found good people and created a safe, good space here.
Have you read Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle? I ask because it contains the idea of family not as the family of your origin, but the group of people you are destined to be a part of to be part of some larger purpose (oh, I read it so long ago but Wikipedia will certainly help me — karass, is what the “true family” was called). I read it at a time when I needed distance from my parents, and it was a comforting concept.
From everything you’ve written about your parents, it seems like as much distance as you can get is as much distance as you need. The pain doesn’t go away with the distance, but it can feel like taking care of yourself to not subject yourself to more, new, pain. I have a good friend whose father was awful to her in myriad ways, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel pain when he died, even though they had been estranged for a long time — and as painful as it was for her to be around him, he did all he could to alienate her.
Your sadness may feel like a bottomless pool, and I’m not going to say I know how deep it truly is, but it coexists with other feelings — and you have a pool of other experiences, new experiences, to “dip your toes in” when you feel ready to move a little bit. As PhD Shrinky tells me, the goal is to be able to sit at the edge of the pool and not feel fear, or overwhelming sadness, but a calm awareness. You will get there, and I can’t say how long it will take, only that you have a very healthy core that gravitates toward healing and goodness, like a gorgeous bulb blooming that has pushed itself up and away from a bunch of, uh, really yukky smelly icky gooey crap.
“…I’ve been wondering why I’m even sad in the first place….”
…maybe because you’ve been mourning the loss of the mother you never had…? MOTHER is not only a figure in our individual lives, she is an archetype…every child only has one Mother, so if yours was batsh!t crazy, withholding, abusive, narcissistic, or any of the other flavors of “unavailable”…your “little girl” self (who still thrives within you) is/was bound to feel terrible about not having her mother. We all need our mother to love, protect and care for us!
Can you do some EMDR with this…? Where is your therapist? Make an appointment….!
::huggs::
I send you hugs, best wishes, & good thoughts. I am a fellow survivor & I do understand much of the pain. Take care of yourself. And please remember that you are under NO obligation to have any relationship with anyone who is toxic & abusive, so you can cut your mother out of your life completely if you choose to do so. Do what is best for YOU.
You are going through a very difficult time.
I know this sounds *wrong* (because I’ve had virtual strangers say the same thing to me and I’ve blanched a bit) but I’m proud of you that you were able to keep everything together until you had a measure of safety.
The fact you didn’t self-abuse or go back into old eating patterns shows how strong you have gotten.
The fact that you are sad and cry also shows that you have become strong enough to not just ‘endure’ but to actually face the emotions and feel them.
It’s extremely hard to accept when parents do things like this. You are doing well, especially since this just happened.
*hugs* I’m here if you want to talk. I know email and stuff is hard right now, but you know my email. I have a strong, waterproof shoulder, too. 🙂
Thank you for all the suppot you lovely people! 😀
While I did have some significant sad-time last night, it seems like I got a lot out just writing this post… I feel much much better today. Hopefully that will last.
Thank you so much to those of you who reminded me that I am strong and have come a long way… cuz when I’m feeling that sad and vulnerable strong and accomplished in recovering from abuse is the last thing I feel like. Mostly I just wonder why I’m not just over it already. Compassionate, right?
Last night I merely had nightmares about a guy I dated for five or so years as opposed to having a nightmare about my parents. It was disturbing enough for me to get up far earlier than I wanted to just to avoid more dreams, but it was an improvement on all the scary parental dreams I’ve been having lately. Maybe my dreams (and sleep!) will improve soon. That would make me very happy.
Tonight I am going out for Italian with a friend and I’m hoping that the carbs will help me sleep well.
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