My insulting lovely mother

Oh my God! I can so relate to each and every post. I have a horrible relationship with both my parents. My mother never visited a psychiatrist or got herself tested but she exhibits many Cluster B behaviours. She has effectively ruined my life. I am not trying to avoid my own responsibility. I was a fool for years. I believed that my mother had my best interest in her heart and so I followed her advice blindly. I never realised that she was only manipulating me for her own end. She needed a slave to cater to her every need who would also earn a high salary and lay it all down at her feet. When I opened my eyes I found that I was in the wrong career, wrong relationship and the stress of everything combined had ruined my health. I had to go through years to therapy to undo the effect my mother had on me - the crippling psychological damage that she had inflicted since my childhood (which at that time I believed to be normal). I had to literally break myself apart and rebuild me piece by piece. I am still in touch with her and look after her but there is no emotional connection. My health is gone permanently. So congratulations to each and every one of you who have successfully managed to extricate yourselves from your abusive mothers at an early age. Congratulations to whoever managed to escape lasting physical and psychological damage. You guys are all heroes to me.

It’s true the only way to stop the abuse is to leave. I think government housing is a great idea and I hope you pursue it, start today.

black-roses,

I lost my mother 11 years ago, due to incurable illness. Like your mother, my mother was emotionally abusive and made my life an absolute living hell. I loathed being near her and when we near to each other, we were like cat and dog. I felt that my own mother never taught me "healthy" love and to this day, at 45 years of age, find myself wondering what healthy love consists of. There were moments in my life where I didn't talk to my mother for years, yet for some reason I always went back. A few therapists stated that this was Stockholm Syndrome. I don't know what to call it, but I always had a deep voice inside of me wanting to understand her. I also had a hope that one day she might "change".

This hope died when my mother died. There are moments when I think about my mother and I wish one thing. I wish she were still alive to see my daughter. I may have a different expectation than others on this piece, but she was and always will be my mother. No matter what she did to me, I always went back to her. I wanted her to love me, but I guess that was one huge pit of naivete.

--Sarc