So.... what's wrong with YOUR mother?

I decided to start this post after I noticed today, that three of us posted things in regards to the relationship we had with our mothers. Lately, the focus of my exploration has been the analysis of my abandonment/rejection issues and black and white thinking, in regards to how I was raised by my mother.

I figured that by starting this topic, it would give me an opportunity to really type out some stuff about my mom and begin to observe the connections that occur.

Unfortunately, I'm at work right now so I'm going to have to wait until my lunch hr. or later today to start doing it.

If others would like to do the same-- I know that hearing the insights and observations you all make in regards to your own situations are so helpful (& many times so similar to mine). Post as little or as much detail as you would like.

My mother had untreated shame and denied me the right to have feelings and emotions.

So much to say, so little time.

My mother is dead and is still controlling me from the grave. She abused me physically and emotionally. The emotionally part hurts the worse. I'm just now learning through therapy how this is affected my adult behavior. I never got a hug. I could never tell her about the boys that sexual abused me. I totally hated her and told her many times.

my mom is ok. though i cannot talk to her. i think the prob is actually me pushing away....

My mom....
-when I was 3 years old she left me with a bunch of violent, sick, abusive alcoholics. She came back when I was 13. By then I had already been on my own since I was 11. She picked cocaine over me. I was severly abused--physically, emotionally and sexually.

-We mended fences when I was in my early 20s. She became my best friend. Now, she is a morphine addict and in many ways I have lost her again.

I can't even begin to describe the trauma and pain she has caused me. Through all this I have always loved her and always will. She is a sick person--she was not able to take care of me when I was a child...and still is not able to take care of me. We have a really good relationship considering our past. I love my mother and I know, if she was able to be there for me she would be...I am an alcoholic/addict--so, the important part is that I learn from her and stay clean and sober. I don't want to end up like her. I say that with great sympathy.

My mother is trapped in her own head, and reacts in crazy ways. I never feel safe around her. I wonder how, if she cares about me, she can't clamp down on her reactions like I do.

Okay. I have never written any of this out before. And I have just started telling T about some of the things she has done. I am so embarassed by her. I think that if I tell him about her, he will think it's a reflection on me. And then he will think I'm nuts, too.

I really need to do this.

My situation is a strange one. And you will see why-- first off I have to say that my mother never hit me. Neither has my father. I have never been physically or sexually abused in any way. My mother has never spoken to me in a degrading way. She loves me, always has, and has always expressed how proud she is of me. I wasn't what you would call spoiled, but my dad has always made a good salary, so I was never left wanting for material things. Because of these things (especially the fact that I never been so much as smacked lightly) I never thought I had the right to attribute me being screwed up to issues surrounding my mom. But the intense fear of abandonment, the attachment issues, the black and white thinking-- where did they come from? Not my mother, I would say-- because she never hit me.

It wasn't until I began to work with T that he started to validate my feelings. I told him that I had no right to be this way-- that other kids had it so much worse. He began to help me see that I had every right to be hurt, angry, resentful, and confused because of the way she is. And that's exactly what it is with my mother-- it's not really about the things she did. It's about the way that she is. And the things she didn't do. T is helping me to see that my issues that I mentioned in the above paragraph are valid-- that it makes complete sense that I would turn out the way I am as a result of the way that she was. No one has ever done that for me before. (Except my sister, who is 14 years older than me, and my best friend in the entire world. Because we go through the same thing. But no one on the outside has ever done what T has done for me-- but I still hate him today, haha).

My mother always had severe anxiety problems. Only I never knew they were anxiety problems until I was 15 and she decided to get help for panic attacks that were so bad, she literally couldn't leave the front step of the house. Actually, it didn't matter whether she left it or not-- she would have the attacks at home, too. (Three years later I was *lucky* enough to end up in the same exact situation as her). Anyway, before the age of 15, I never knew they were anxiety problems. It was just the way I grew up... That was her. She was extremely overprotective. However, it was like I grew up under tons of rules and regulations. My household was actually a pretty relaxed one, I just wasn't allowed to do a lot of things in which I would be out of her sight, in a potentially "dangerous" situation. In fact, I was never even punished in my entire childhood. I know now a big part of the reason I have anxiety is because while I was being raised, I was being taught to be afraid of everything-- everything is dangerous. I was not allowed to do anything. If all my friends were doing something, I was not allowed. So I would always have to make up a lie, as not to embarrass myself. The mothers on the block would carpool. Maybe one mom would drive us to school or to the mall or something, and another mom would pick us up. Everyone wondered why my mom never participated. I never understood. But I had to lie to them.

My mom never really played with me. I mostly played with my dad. But he didn't get home until after 8PM from work. My mom would take a lot of naps, leaving me to play alone. And she never, ever cooked. I would normally eat Spaghetti-O's or something like that, by myself in front of the TV at night. When she did play with me, it was often to feed her own childlike addiction. My mother has a very addictive personality. Not addicted to drugs though (only cigarettes). She would get addicted to video games or she would want to get something that I got (I got a lava lamp when I was young, so she got one, too). It was popular at the time to get sticker books and collect all kinds of cool stickers to put in the books. She would do it with me, only she got her own sticker books and got way too into it.

My mom never did the things I would have wanted her to. Things I would have considered normal. Go shopping together, bake, go out for lunch.

My sister recently told me that my mom would let me go like a week without taking a bath when I was little. My sister would say to her, "Mom, Robyn hasn't had a bath in like a week-- don't you think you should bathe her?" My mom would act as if it really wasn't time for a bath yet, so my sister would bathe me.

My mom never took me to the dentist when I was a child, not one time. The first time I ever went to the dentist was when I was 12 because my tooth hurt like hell. I ended up having to get a root canal.

My sister taught me how to take a shower by myself. My mom never did.

When all the girls were shaving their legs, my mom told me it wasn't time for me to do it. My legs were disgusting and hairy, so my sister taught me how to do it.

I never celebrated Thanksgiving until I was about 16. This first time did not take place at my parent's house.

When I was about 16, things changed so that they would be much worse. And they would remain that way forever.

I had a job. I was a waitress. I put money away so that I could buy myself a computer. I bought a computer and put it in my bedroom, which was on the main level of the house. My mom ended up learning how to use the computer. She also ended up with one of the worst Internet addictions ever. Not Internet shopping, just being on the net. She would be in my room on the computer for hours at a time. My friends would come over and she would be there. I would be laying in bed at night trying to fall asleep and she would be there. I would be begging her to get off so I could do a paper for school. I will never forget the time that I told her that no matter what she did, she better not dare smoke in my room while on the computer. She swore she would never do this. One day she didn't expect me home, and there she was in my bedroom on the computer, cigarette smoke everywhere. I went absolutely crazy. A few weeks later, it happened again. Eventually, I moved my bedroom upstairs. She said that if I left the computer downstairs, she would pay the remaining balance on it. I said fine because at that point, I had no money anyway. Eventually I found out what she was doing on the computer-- meeting men. On 3 separate occasions, I found that she had set up (in person)meetings with men. Each time this happened, I would lose my mind. I was dealing with severe panic d/o and depression at the time. After I would confront her, she would be so apologetic and say she would never do such a thing again because she knew how negatively it impacted my mental health. But she would do it again. Because of her net addiction, everything fell apart. Bills no longer got paid. The house never got cleaned again. Dinner never got prepared again (not even from a can). The wash barely got done. My parents never got along again. She never cared about anything else again. I went from growing up under her overprotectiveness to having no rules. Because she didn't care. The computer had taken over. I would come home whenever I wanted. I would sleep over guys' houses. After 10th grade, she never saw a report card again, and she never noticed. I could have friends over to the house and they could stay over until whenever...

The part that hurts most about her addiction is when my mental health really started failing. I was cutting myself every single night in my room upstairs. She knew. But she just stayed on the computer. She could have come to get me. She could have said, "Here... let's doing something together... to keep you safe." But she just stayed on the computer, talking to her men.

My mom and dad live in NY. I moved to Philly. When I go back to NY to visit and she how she has let herself go, it is one of the hardest things I will ever have to see. Her hair is frazzled and messy. The only times she has ever gotten it done is when I told her that it was unacceptable, made the appointment for her, took her, and sat while she got it done. Her clothes are atrocious. They have stains everywhere. I do not remember the last time she has taken a shower. She never had great hygiene habits, even when I was a child. She has always bitten her nails to the point in which they barely exist. The house is disgusting. My dad has tried to keep it clean, but he works long hours. It's not cluttered or anything like that-- but it's dirty. She doesn't clean or dust or anything. Sometimes I will go a month or two without talking to her and she will blame it on me. (There is no reason for this other than that she is consumed by whatever has taken hold of her, and family is no longer a priority). But I am the one who always calls. My sister has gone 4 or 5 months without talking to her. I miss my dad so much, but it's so hard because when I go NY, I don't even want to be in the house. And sometimes my in-laws will invite my parents to Christmas dinner or whatever, and I purposely don't invite them... I just lie to my in-laws and tell them they can't go-- I do this because I am so embarassed by her.

I attribute my obsession with clothing, makeup, accesories, etc. with trying to deviate as far as possible from her. If it is a Sunday, and I know that all I'm going to be doing for that day is school work or cleaning up in the house, I will wake up, shower, put on makeup, fix my hair, and then do my chores.

There is a lot more to the story, most of having to do times when I needed her and she has not been there for me.

The thing that scares me more than anything in the world is when I can pick up on little things that I do (or don't do) that are like her-- I have done everything in my power not to be like her. I have also spent many years denying the ways in which I am like her.

One of my theories as to why I am this way is that I held both attachment and abandoment feelings at the exact same time. I was very attached to my mother-- not by choice. It's just that I wasn't allowed to go many places and she never went anywhere... so it was always just me and her at home. And I was learning that everything was scary and dangerous. I remember times in school, getting a stomachache, always visiting the school nurse-- much like I do with my husband and with T-- if my mother wasn't in my view, she was "gone" I will never forget my very first day of school ever-- prekindergarten-- I walked into the classroom for the first time ever-- walked over to the sink-- and threw-up. I was filled with anxiety. I remember being very young, staring out the window waiting for my dad or sister to come home... if they were 5 minutes late, I'd be panicking. Same as now. I never differentiated from my mom in a healthy way. But at the same time as the attachment, there was the abandoment. =She never taught me the skills to be independent. Not even basic life skills. My theory is that in order to defend against the confusion of feeling attached and abandoned by the same person, I decided that I could never hold more than one feeling towards someone at the same time. So there was my black and white thinking and my splitting-- I became much safer that way. When it's good, it's really good. But when it's bad, it's bad-- and it all falls apart. But it's never, ever in the middle.

You sound so sad. I can identify with your need to be so different from your mother. I am much older than you and even though my mother has been dead for 13 years, I can still feel what it's like to want to live a life that is the opposite of hers. My mom pretended that the first 13 years of my life didn't exist, because the family was so dystunctional during that period. Hence, my tendency to split bigtime. When I became a mom myself, my guiding principal became "Whatever she did, I'll do the opposite." That worked for a long time until now, I am in my 50s and I have major life issues (kids with serious health problems, etc.). Now, I realize I have to do what is right for me, whether or not that is the opposite of what my Mom did. I realize that she did the best she could given the cards she was dealt. When my mom was sick and dying, I became her caretaker and the tables were turned. However, my taking care of her began long before her illness. You have a beautiful core and have your own life to live that is separate from your mom's. Her shame is not your shame. Be good to yourself.

I think you are well on the way of dispensing with the way your mom was/is and how it affected you. (((hugs))) for that. I'm glad your T was able to help you to see how mom's affect those around them simply by going by the title of "MOM."

If you decide to caregive your mom... when you go to NY... then do it. But don't do it out of obligation or anger because she won't or can't for herself.

My mom is in her late 80s... she still takes care of herself mostly... and when she asks me to do something for her, it isn't because she can't it's because she wants ME to do it for her. Sometimes I can grant her request, sometimes not. It has nothing to do with love.

Sometimes I have to view her and her actions and words as I would anyone I would help in a nursing home. (I used to volunteer at some.) I try to see the hilarity in her motives like I would them in the home... and enjoy just who they are today... now... and hope they are doing their best.

I try to take what I'm learning from my mom and help make it easier for my sons with me in the future IDK it seems that no matter how we do it, kids want things opposite of their parents...making things for them just like their grandparents

Pinksoil, wow. I hadn't realized all that you have been through. My goodness. I can identify with much of what you said in regards to my mom.

I also do not want to repeat cycles of my mother. She's similar to yours but a little different:

She's a gambler, smoker, has cycles of men in/out, computer addiction, addiction to prescription drugs, alcohol, compulsive spender, embarrassing, not well kept, and the list goes on...

You may think you see some parallels but you do not seem to be any of the things you described about your mom. The most important difference is you are working on yourself and so am I.

Our moms? Can't see the forest through the trees on that. What we do have? we are like shrapnel after explosion. We are putting the pieces back together one at a time my dear...

By the way, I'm from Pa. outside of Philly. Lived there most of my life...

my mom..just that word alone makes me feel ...tired. She is a smoker and a brand spanking new alcoholic...yey...my mother devised an immaculate plan....take away my esteem...my independency...to create an attaching child who she could torment and abuse for fun. If she got mad at me i faced my belongings thrown out the window..in the trash or broken...alot of memories gone that way...she also used to take my toothbrush and scrape in a dirty area like the bottom of the toothbrush cup holder is....where all the saliva and water dripped down....but the thing that i would say is the worst...she used her title to hurt me....she would be soo sweet and nice...talking to me being there for me...saying she loved me ...and as a kid i wanted that out of my mother..so i let my guard down...felt enoromus guilt for hating my "wonderful" mother and doing everything i could to make her happy...which would last all of about two seconds...then when i was fully at her mercy because i loved her she would scream at me and do horrible things. I dont know how she did this..but she used to get me upstairs when the family was over to the house...id go upstairs because she would argue with me and id go upstairs...well she would take that time to tell the family lies about me...how i threatened to kill her...how i rule the house...i do nothing ...and i get stuck with wrong timing...they would see i was up in my room because of a fight...they would see my room wasnt clean..things were smashed..and everyones mind concluded she was right...they never asked me what happened...always assumed...so all the neighbors who knew i existed thought i was evil....and that my parents were saints keeping me in their house...but all that time i never thought they were as smart as they were....but now i have to give them credit...while doing all of this they took away my independency...took away my knowledge...i dont know how to pay bills...drive a car properly...i shudder at taxes..was almost arrested because they took my w2 forms and never helped me until the state saw i was a minor...i dont know how to cook...i cant clean properly...all i know how to do ..is live under someone elses roof...but they cornered me their home abused me stripped me of everything..my mother even threw my baby book (baby pictures) at me..she didnt want them..now i have them...i never hear i love you unless its that time to play mother daughter..she allowed me to drink alochol aas much as i wanted and offered to do drugs with me as well as told me to go cut ...more or less creating more dependency....has keep my birthcertificate..i was only allowed in certain rooms..she told me when to eat and how much to eat...what to drink...told me when to take a shower...would shut the water of in midshower ....the sad part is ...i love my mother for the part she pretended...i konw she pretended but she still has my heart there...its all weak and trying to hold on to that even though its bruised and wilted but i hold on to that no matter how many times she says im a mistake or she wishes id never been born. She even refers to the time where she tried to kill herself when she was pregnant with me...and to this day no matter how much she hates me i still try to protect her from my real father...i wont let him go near her or talk to her..i hate her...and i hate him...but for some reason they were slightly successful in what they wanted to create.
love, Inny...sorry for the rant..BUT you asked...

(((((((((((((((((((((my inny)))))))))))))))))

oh god i feel your pain, my mother was emotionally abusive, stripped me of my self-esteem etc, not as bad as yours, she is still a drinker and has men like hot dinners.

you are a very special person, and you have grown from all of this, which makes youu strong too.

never forget i love you and so do many here. with you baby
e.mom xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I'm fortunate. I have a good relationship with my mother. She gets on my last nerve sometimes, but I love her and she has always been loving and supportive of me. She's not perfect, but she's wonderful. The interesting thing is that if you were to ask my sister the same question, she would have a list a mile long of all the things that are wrong with our mother. She blames our mother for almost everything that is wrong in her life. The things that aren't our mother's fault, in her opinion, are the fault of our father. I, on the other hand, think dad is lovely.

Anyway, I'm very grateful for the parents I have. I know how damaging bad parenting is for children. I'm glad I don't have that cross to bear. My sister, who has the same parents, talks a lot about how damaging our childhood was for her. Different perspective, different personality I guess. I got the parents I needed and she didn't. Our parents were the right kind of parents for me and not for her. It's something that causes friction between my sister and me at times.

I have a good relationship with my mom now. When I was growing up I didn't. I'd scream at her for hours til she just kicked me out. I was kicked out of the house 3xs until the last time when we came to an agreement that I would find an apartment. After I moved out and we didn't see each other all the time we got a lot closer. I don't see her everyday but I talk to her everyday on the phone. I don't tell her everything because it stresses her out too much.

I guess when I was growing up I knew something was wrong me and she didn't want to see it so nothing was done about it except sending me to the school shrink and he didn't know what he was doing. Funny thing is now I don't want to admit there is anything wrong with me. Go figure.

Jbug

Bipolar/alcoholic/abusive/sexually promiscious/didn't care about the welfare of the kids/suicide when I was 15 after many unsuccessful attempts--asphyxiated herself with a plastic bag over her head/sad to say but I was relieved when she finally died--& here I am bipolar/had issues with alcohol/suicide attempts--following in her footsteps in many ways.--Suzy

((( Suzy )))

Damn, that's a heavy load to carry.

I've always thought my willingness to see my difficult mother as part of my problem(s) was a stereotypical knee-jerk kind of reaction and a way to avoid the 'real' issues I have. Oh sure, blame the mother! But I'm responsible for me, right?

Yeah but it would never go away. I'm middle aged. She's deceased. It's better but still there.

Growing up she HAD to be the center of attention; everything was about her. Everything. I called her the Queen or the Queen Bee. The only opinion or mood that mattered or even existed, really, was hers. Never knew if or when the anger would explode; what set it off one day wouldn't another and she was often surprised that I'd expect it to. Everything I did reflected on her somehow. I felt like I couldn't and didn't have a thought of my own. I had to consider her first.

Currently in therapy (again) and trying to understand me, really delve and learn. It is understanding I need more than or as much as symptom relief. I am embarrassed that at my age (53) I am talking about my mother! But I think it's the way to go, the first path to understand among many.

Today I was at Borders. The last few weekends I've been trying to make myself go out. I am very uncomfortable being out, even though I go to work and the grocery store. Today I had use of a car so was going to do laundry that has piled up, even though I hand wash and sometimes wash a bathtub full. To reward myself and to have something to do when the clothes are washing and drying--a high anxiety time for me, the waiting.. people around or coming and going--I went to Borders to buy a new Pema Chodron book (she's a Buddhist nun who's writing I like) and I found 3 I wanted and couldn't decide so I was carrying them around and looking at other books. A book caught mye eye and I opened it and read the first sentence of the preface: " The first thing we must understand in life is our mother.....our mother is the first step to understanding ourselves." Wow. Then I opened it randomly and saw in bold print one of the types of mothers this book talks about: "The Queen Mother" !!

Holy Moly I think I have found gold you guys!!

The book not only applies to my mother but to me as a mother. The book is by Christine Ann Lawson and is titled "Understanding the Borderline Mother; helping her children transcend the intense, unpredictable, and volatile relationship".

I can't wait to get into it though I know it will be hard. It is already. Don't much like seeing myself, but one of the reasons for the author writing the book is because BPD is passed on and often from mother to daughter.

I feel validated by this book. I'm so thankful.

Pema Chodron will have to wait for now.

i feel guilty about writing about what's 'wrong' with my mother, but at the same time there are definite issues there...
She documented in a psychologists report that I was about 4 when we started having problems in our relationship, and as the years went by things just got worse and worse. All i can remember from about the age of 11 is fighting with her- screaming matches and arguments; she got my paediatrician to refer me to a pdoc when i was 12 and tried to get her to diagnose me with bipolar (my father is) so as to blame the whole situation on me. When I canme home 1 day when I was 14 and quoted that "it takes 2 to tango" when i told her that our fights weren't all my fault she basically laughed me out of the room, telling me that it IS all my fault. We had such a bad fight in the car 1 day on the way to school I was left on the side of the road... There were no hugs after about the age of 4, and i can't remember hearing "I love you"- even now i never say it although sometimes she will sign her emails or texts with it, but we still never say it when on the phone talking, or saying bye to each other at the airport. Since I left home our relationship has improved immensely- we never fight now altho I get easily annoyed by her attitude towards things and don't hesitate to tell her (!!). When I was hosopitalised 2 yrs ago she found out ALL the secrets I have hidden from her- all my probs, ODs, SI etc etc (she did know I had been on ADs i think...). But even now that she knows I never talk to her about any of it; I have serious trust issues with her as she used to tell my grandparents everything that was discussed during our pdoc sessions when i was 12, and we have never been close enuf to have that kind of 'warm fuzzy able-to-talk-about-issues' relationship. She did come down for 6 weeks tho to look after my youngest who was in a separate hospital from me for most of the 4 mths I was in, and to help me get settled back at home when i was discharged. When it comes to things like cleaning, I always had the image of someone who would do all the housework and had a great routine. Now when I visit I am horrified, and know why I used to suffer so badly from allergies (the dust-mite 1 in particular). I usually take it upon myself to actually dust the house, altho apparantly my father vacuums. She does the rest of the household chores, and is SO organised right down to lists for everything... i have taken after her unfortunately in some ways... while i LOVE to have a clean house I am often unmotivated (and prob just too tired) to keep on top of things; and i use lists all the time (which is a positive ).
Wow- sorry I have been rambling and raving on for so long... i didn't realise... someone elses turn now