I dropped my Coke on the garage floor and stood over it and cried.
I'm a mess emotionally lately.
I haven't been sleeping. I haven't been eating.
I put on a happy face and fake it to the world but in private, my face is sad.
I feel so alone lately.
I worry that it is only going to get worse. My son is grown and moved out. My daughter is a teenager and doing her own thing.
I read some where that loneliness is a faster cause of death than smoking.
I miss having someone to love and to love me as I deserve. This time of year is the hardest.
I tend to feel unlovable and worthless. I feel that men never want to be the person that I deserve. I just build a wall around myself and wallow in my self pity.
Hell, I fear commitment. Every relationship I've had just blew up into ugly.
But I can't just give up.
So I stood over my Coke and cried.
I used to have a piece of the Berlin Wall.
I bet you are wondering how this relates to my mother.
Let me tell you...
This is probably one of this most difficult things to write about and it has taken me years to put it together and just as long to not stop writing to have a cry.
Like I said, I used to have a piece of the Berlin Wall. I also had a very coveted Stephen King novel and a potato belly mandolin.
As I write, please remember that I do love my mother.
You can love someone and at the very same time be angry at them.
I had a bad break up years ago that led me to see a counselor. During my first visit I exclaimed, "Why do I keep choosing the wrong men?"
So the counselor asked me about my past, my family dynamics, my goals, what makes me happy. You know, all that counseling stuff.
After a few sessions, my counselor mentioned that she thought I may be the daughter of a narcissistic mother. She recommended that I read, "Will I Ever Be Good Enough", by Karyl McBride.
I read the book.
And I cried for hours.
and hours....
The book felt like the author knew my life.
The hurt and anger bubbled up to the surface. I had an understanding of why I am the way I am.
A narcissistic mother has the family revolve around them. The pit siblings against each other. She is extremely controlling of one child (me), makes one out to be the bad kid (my brother) and ignores the rest (my sister).
A narcissistic mother cannot exhibit empathy. She doesn't acknowledge your successes and stresses the importance of how things look to her and not how it feels for you. She is critical and judgmental. She is more of a friend than a parent. She tells you how to feel instead of asking how you feel.
The dynamic of a narcissistic mother is so broad that I cannot even list everything and not all narcissistic mothers have all of the dynamic.
Obviously, growing up, I never knew of this form of abuse but as an adult, I totally do now.
Trying to heal from it is difficult. I suffer from such self doubt.
When I fix my hair, I hear my mom's voice, "If you wear you hair short, you face wouldn't look so fat."
I struggle in relationships. I try so hard to please my partner that I lose who I am in the process. I have had lots of practice trying to please my mother in order to receive love and acceptance. I never felt like I totally achieved the goal.
During my counseling, I grieved for my younger self. I see a little blonde haired girl wanting desperately to be loved but never feeling it the way that it should have been.
Instead of encouraging me to grow and learn my way, she limited me. I wanted to go to college so bad in Colorado. I applied and was accepted at several universities. When the acceptance letters came in the mail, I eagerly showed them to my mom. She looked at the letters in disgust and said that she would never pay for me to go to a school that far away. My hopes and dreams were cut so very short. I basically gave up on dreaming after that.
When I was 21, I finally moved out and as I was packing up my room I noticed my coveted Stephen King novel, that she had even given my one Christmas, was missing as well as a piece of the Berlin Wall that a friend had sent me. I questioned her on it and she said that she took them and gave them to one of her friends because she figured I was doing reading the book and that I didn't want the rock anyway.
Even after all this time, I am very angry. Two of my favorite treasures.....gone.
After my second divorce, my parents were helping me move into my new house. She spotted my antique potato belly mandolin and asked if she could have it back. She gave it to me for Christmas one year. She wanted to gift it to my nephew (that I have never met) because she felt he would appreciate it more than me.
Again, I felt defeated but I didn't stand up to her.
Even after she died, my sister got her wedding rings and she said that was going to happen because I should get my grandmother's ring from my Aunt. She said I should contact her to get it.
So why do I write about this now?
It has taken time. I have so many unfinished drafts. It is a hard subject to explain. I open myself up to judgment because heaven forbid that I talk bad about her.
I can only hope that I continue to heal.
Maybe someday I will be good enough.
Links:
Will I Ever Be Good Enough by Karyl McBride
Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers Website
I don't brag much.
I never see the point. I don't need a pat on the back or sympathy.
I'm a single mom.
I have been for many years.
It is a struggle, a constant struggle.
I am so fortunate to have kids that turned out so great. They could have been such different people without my sacrifices.
My son is now an engineer. He has his head on straight. He works hard and is smart with his money.
My daughter is a straight A student and is on path to graduate with honors. She works, has a boyfriend and still manages to get constant As throughout her high school career.
I am amazed by both.
It has never been easy. It is so hard to be strong for them while over coming obstacles, many of which were put in my path by their fathers.
I am sure some of you are reading this and thinking about their fathers. Both fathers chose to bow out. They left turmoil and unknowns behind. They left me to deal with late night vomit, heartbreaks, homework, deadlines, school projects, fundraisers, practices, no money, utility shutoffs, and homelessness.
These fathers never had to make decisions, never signed field trip slips. They never offered to coach soccer. They never had to make sure the kids had to get to school on time. There never had to be around when a meltdown started.
I have learned enough about cars to encourage my son's love of them.
I've struggled with money. I have wondered how to put food on the table. I've even been evicted by my daughter's father.
I gave up on my own dreams, my own sanity, my own happiness for the sake of raising good kids.
I think I've earned the right to brag a little.
I have managed to raise successful adults.
It hasn't been easy.
