Mother literally trying to buy our affection

[happyfingers]

Hi, everybody,

I've been lurking around here for quite some time, although I don't think I've ever posted a new member introduction before.  I'm having some technical issues with the site that don't allow me to look at my profile, so I can't see what, if anything, I've ever posted, but I don't think I have.  I believe I've just thought about it a hundred times!

My story, in a nutshell: I was the only child of a successful small businessman and his mentally abusive wife.  From talks with various therapists and from reading what all of you have written about the BPD people in your lives, I'm all but certain she's BPD. 

Naturally, I had a miserable childhood.  I scored well on various tests and played the piano well at a young age, but I had trouble making friends, since I was constantly being ripped out of one school and placed in another.  My piano teachers also changed frequently because of problems with my mother.  Mom liked to scream at people, especially me, a lot.  She'd scream at my father and grandmother too, and I can't count the number of times I wanted to die because she was having a fit at a store or some other business.  If it weren't for my grandmother and the breaks she gave me from my insane mother, I don't know how I would have survived childhood.  My father wasn't very helpful, as his survival strategy was mostly to be gone as much as possible.

When I was growing up, my grandmother, mother, and I went everywhere.  Then I tried to leave and have my own life.  I was accepted into the summer music program at Aspen, and from there I was offered a full scholarship to Juilliard.  I was excited, to say the least.  When I called my mother to tell her, she told me very firmly on the phone that I would not be permitted to go and that I was never to bring up the subject again.  The good people who offered me the scholarship were astonished that I wasn't going to take them up on the offer.  I ended up taking another offer to attend a college in the same state where I had grown up, which my mother approved of, barely, for a time.  This turned out to be a terrible mistake for my music career, and while I was at this other college, my parents withdrew their financial support.  I worked as a waitress for a time before I gave up and went home to Mother.

When I got home, I had an affair with a married man that resulted in the birth of my only daughter.  Mom suggested I have an abortion, but fortunately, I ignored her advice.  DD is nearly 20 now.

For 19 of those years, I maintained a relationship with my mother.  She was rather stifling, but that was the price of getting along with her.  I met and married a wonderful man, whom she accused of all sorts of nasty things, none of which were even kind of true.  DD grew up to be a lovely person, but she hated her grandmother.  The only reason she kept speaking to Mom for as long as she did was because I forced her to.

In March of 2012, our neighbor's 15-year-old daughter was abducted, raped, and murdered by a complete stranger.  The tragedy was all over the national news, and the FBI and local sheriff's deputies were all over our neighborhood.  By this time, I had a 13-year career as a court reporter and was working as an official reporter for the local courthouse.  The stress of this incident was almost too much to bear for me.  I became very depressed, experienced daily panic attacks, and was almost unable to leave my home.  I ended up losing my job and my license.  My therapist said the attack on our neighbor's daughter somehow brought up the PTSD that I had been coping with from my childhood.

My husband had gotten a job in Texas, and my daughter and I stayed behind just long enough for her to finish high school.  When she finished, my mother wouldn't let us leave.  One day, about a year ago today, she called me on the phone, screaming, saying she was coming over to "talk to" me.  Before she got there, I jumped in my car and took off, leaving my daughter asleep in her bedroom.  This was a terrible mistake I made, one that I will always regret.

Mom banged on the door until daughter, who was groggy and didn't know what was happening, got up and answered the door.  Mom then proceeded to take out her anger by screaming at DD.  When Mom finally left, DD called a family friend, who drove to our house and picked her up, never to return.  She stayed with our friend for a time, and eventually she got on a plane and flew to Texas to wait for me there.

I stayed a while longer, hoping to leave for Texas on good terms with my mother, but that was never to be.  I finally ended up having to use a ruse to get my parents out of their house so that I could get my dog back and a few other things before I left the area myself, never to return.  This was on November 2 of last year.

Once I was able to shut off the constant stream of criticism that comes from her voice that seems to be taking residence in my head, I actually experienced a great deal of relief for the first time in my life.  I started a small business of my own, and, of course, it's been a lot of hard work and struggle, as can be expected.  My daughter went to college -- something Mom was opposed to "wasting" money on -- and we're doing all right.  Well, other than the health problems I'm still suffering, which I kind of suspect may have something to do with the stress I've been under for the last 40 plus years. 

Then Mom started contacting us again in the middle of last April.  At first I was really happy to hear from her.  She is my mother, after all.  And she was friendly.  But then after a few days of friendly conversation, she told me she wanted me to come back "home" and take care of her dogs so that she and dad can go on a trip.  And leave my little business behind, indefinitely?  I had so much trouble just getting away in the first place.  No way was I going back.  She went right back into her old behavior.

Now that it's been a year since DD left, she's been sending emails and pictures -- there were about 20 sent over the past couple of days -- to DD, saying she wants to take DD to Disneyworld, and now she wants to send money.  Well, here's the email in full, with names redacted.

[DD],

I am sending a birthday check for you that should have been given to you last September.

So much was suddenly going on around your birthday last year that [grandfather] and I did not even realize it was your birthday.

Well, think of the good news, you didn't have to hear the awful designer birthday song that we put you through each birthday!

I'll go to the post office and drop the 2013 birthday gift in the mail and it will go out Monday.  Will it take 3 to 4 days to get to you in Texas?  I'm not sure about delivery time.  I will be mailing to the address [happyfingers] gave me before her departure...

Yesterday, I called [happyfingers] to ask  her whether you and she wanted the drums, and the piano delivered to Texas.  She has not called me back.

I was unduly and unreasonably upset and hurt when [happyfingers] was not willing to bring you here to the desert to look after the dogs.  Donald and I have not seen you for nearly a year, and were really looking forward to the opportunity to see you. We should have realized that we were being unreasonable asking for dog help when you two are now making your home in Texas.  So much change, mother is gone, and you and [happyfingers] are living thousands of miles away. Anyway, I have found a guy on Angi's List that is willing to sit with the brutes 24 hrs a day until we return from our 10 day outing; yeah!

 

Other dog news:  Suzie is no longer with us.  We are both deeply saddened by her loss.  [happyfingers] got Suzie from [friend] when you were five, so she had a nice long life.

Also, I need to learn to watch my tone of voice when speaking with [happyfingers], and shall do that, if and when she is willing to talk with me. I have never been loaded with patience at best, and now at age seventy, I have earned the old and cranky title,

You must be on vacation from classes.  I'll bet your enjoying your summer break!

Love you,

Grandmother

Mind you, DD is so upset by her emails that I put a filter on her email to just send these to me and skip her inbox entirely.

So that's where we are!  I expect I'll be sending that check right back to my mother, although the piano is going to be so much harder to send back.  I love that piano.  Yes, I'll have to pay for it "with my soul," as we say in our family, but after a lifetime with Mother, I'm used to it.  I don't know whether she's really called me or not, since my husband blocked her phone calls to my phone back in April when she started getting out of hand, thankfully.

Anyway, rehashing all this stuff is exhausting, and I can't imagine reading it is much of a picnic either.  Thanks so much for listening.

[pessim-optimist]

Oh my gosh, happyfingers, 

Welcome to the boards! Your post has brought tears to my eyes... .I am so sorry for all the missed opportunities and pain you've had in your life up until now. I can relate - I have also changed my career plans at the insistence of my parents, and have paid for it too.

The good news in your life (as well as mine) is that you have found a good man to share your life with, and although you are now a couple of decades older than you were when you first left home, you are still fairly young and full of life, and now that you are free, you can make the best of it.

P.S. If you really like the piano, I'd keep it (unless it would be too traumatic - looking at it and thinking of your past. In that case, I'd just sell it and use the money on a different one or something else that will make you happy). After all, you don't owe your mom anything. She has taken so much from you; more than she could ever pay back.

Welcome again to the board, happyfingers (is that name connected to your musical talent?)

[growing]

This sounds so familiar.  Sorry for everything you have gone through.  A couple things you said caught my attention. "my mother wouldn't let us leave".  My father is BPD and in recent years I have noticed my mother saying "he made me" do this or that.  I'm sure I have said that before but it is more apparent when you hear someone else say it.  If you ever think someone is forcing you to do something, know you are allowing it.  This is really hard to see because BPD's are SO persuasive and controlling. Experts!

Also, you mentioned she came over to TALK to you.  My father has done that forever. He will say, "sit down, I want to talk to you" and talk FOREVER about anything he wants, barely pausing for me to get a word in. 

The email to your daughter is her subtle way to get to you.  I'm glad you are trying to protect your daughter. This is the most important thing you can do. 

Recently, my father accused me of pushing him in front of my 6 year old son.  I was actually guiding him with a firm hand to the back (he uses a walker) away from my car where he was beginning to make a scene.  Anyway, that was enough for me.  I refuse to let my kids be a part of that at all. 

I'm sorry this is in your mother. That must be hard. Hang in there, sounds like you are on the right path.

[happyfingers]

Thank you both so much for your responses.  It's very helpful to hear from people outside my situation.  My mother's done such a "good job" with me over the years that sometimes I find myself looking for ways to blame myself for everything, which doesn't help me feel better, nor does it really solve the problems my husband, daughter, and I have had with my parents over the years.

@pessim-optimist Yeah, the whole Juilliard thing still hurts more than 20 years after the fact.  When Mom talked to me on the phone after I told her my good news, there were two parts to that conversation, both delivered in her especially angry, growling voice that she uses when she means business: No, you are not going; and never bring it up again.  I was a good girl and never brought it up again. 

Then 12 years later, while sitting next to me outside DD's drum lesson, she blurted out, "Well, you could have gone to Juilliard, but you turned them down."  I nearly had a heart attack.  I reminded her gently, fearful that she was going to make a scene there at the music store, that she didn't want me to go.  She responded to that, "I don't remember that.  I thought you didn't really want to go."  She's brought it up a few times since then, going on to say that had I really wanted to go, I would have gone no matter what my parents said.  I guess that could be true, assuming I would be willing to hitchhike to New York and live under a bridge.

The truth is as a young pianist, I was doomed to begin with.  Successful pianists are not just talented and willing to work hard, but they also have to be lucky enough to be offered the right opportunities and have very supportive families.  Fortunately, life has offered me another chance to pursue my dream of being a full time musician.  No, I won't be going to New York, but I do get to teach youngsters and perform locally.  So, yeah, for that reason, I'm "happyfingers."   

@growing  You make a couple of really good points, especially with "my mother wouldn't let us leave."  Of course it wasn't up to her whether we moved or not.  However, she made it clear that if we left the state, she would be upset, which would mean a variety of consequences.  First off, she screams like a banshee, saying the most awful things.  Then, if I'm lucky, she'll quit speaking for a time.  There's also the likelihood that she will tell our extended family that I'm bad and crazy and god knows what.  And finally, there's the carrot that's been dangled in front of me for as long as I can remember: the money I stand to inherit.  She's told me on a number of occasions that she was going to leave the money to a "dog charity" if I didn't "straighten up."

For the first time, when I left the state back in November of last year, I didn't give a damn if she yelled or not, since I can't hear her all the way in Texas.  I don't have to worry about her quitting speaking to me, because I quit first.  The extended family members, where were they when I was growing up?  Nowhere.  The only kind of news they're interested in about me is the kind of news that makes for good gossip, so let them enjoy. 

And as far as inheriting my parents' money, I never really believed she meant for me to have it anyway.  I think she's been planning all along to do something surprising with her will so that when she passed, she could hurt me one more time by giving it all away to some distant cousin or maybe a homeless guy my father befriends.  So be it.  I don't have a lot of money, but I'm rich, because for the first time in my life, at age 43, I own myself.

My daughter's amazing.  She made up her mind to never speak to my mother again and never looked back.  She's never had trouble expressing herself either.  She's told my mother things I never had the nerve to say.  I wish I had her maturity when I was her age.  I'm honestly not sure where she gets it.  Definitely wasn't me!

[pessim-optimist]

She's brought it up a few times since then, going on to say that had I really wanted to go, I would have gone no matter what my parents said.

That's what my parents told me also, and my husband as well - I told him: "You just don't understand, I was so young, and so vulnerable growing up with my parents - their wisdom meant a lot to me."

Bottom line - yes, thanks to my parents I did not know enough about who I was and what I really wanted. I was young, and immature. Now, I am older, stronger, more mature, and NOW I know just like you that nobody made me do anything. I just didn't know that then. But that's ok, life goes on, and just like you, I am glad that at least I know now.

I am happy for you that the music career still worked out for you and you do what you love - that's important.

And as far as inheriting my parents' money, I never really believed she meant for me to have it anyway.

... .So be it.  I don't have a lot of money, but I'm rich, because for the first time in my life, at age 43, I own myself.

Being controlled and manipulated with an ever-elusive promise is not worth the price you'd have to pay.

My daughter's amazing.  She made up her mind to never speak to my mother again and never looked back.  She's never had trouble expressing herself either.  She's told my mother things I never had the nerve to say.  I wish I had her maturity when I was her age.  I'm honestly not sure where she gets it.  Definitely wasn't me!

It might be her father's and your resilience coupled with the fact that you probably nurtured her gently, and let her be herself and express herself when growing up. 

[happyfingers]

Bottom line - yes, thanks to my parents I did not know enough about who I was and what I really wanted. I was young, and immature. Now, I am older, stronger, more mature, and NOW I know just like you that nobody made me do anything. I just didn't know that then. But that's ok, life goes on, and just like you, I am glad that at least I know now.

Yes, I was young, and the other problem was I was isolated too.  Nobody told me there was something wrong with my mom.  Part of me thought the reason she screamed at me constantly was because I was a bad person and incapable of making good decisions.  Under those circumstances, I had neither the confidence nor the wherewithal to get to New York on my own and find a place to live.

It might be her father's and your resilience coupled with the fact that you probably nurtured her gently, and let her be herself and express herself when growing up.

Well, I hope so, but honestly I know I messed up when it came to her relationship with her grandma.  I insisted upon DD seeing her and spending time with her, even when DD started telling me how upsetting her visits with Grandma were.  My mother could never resist telling her terrible things about my husband and me, even when she was little.  I used to tell her to ignore that stuff and focus on the good parts of her relationship with her grandmother, that those things didn't concern her, but I understand now that I was wrong to say that.  Now DD is being treated for anxiety and depression related to her relationship with my mother and often experiences bad dreams featuring her grandmother.  She is a lot better at asserting herself than I ever was though, for which I am very grateful.

[claudiaduffy]

It might be her father's and your resilience coupled with the fact that you probably nurtured her gently, and let her be herself and express herself when growing up.

Well, I hope so, but honestly I know I messed up when it came to her relationship with her grandma.  I insisted upon DD seeing her and spending time with her, even when DD started telling me how upsetting her visits with Grandma were.  My mother could never resist telling her terrible things about my husband and me, even when she was little.  I used to tell her to ignore that stuff and focus on the good parts of her relationship with her grandmother, that those things didn't concern her, but I understand now that I was wrong to say that.  Now DD is being treated for anxiety and depression related to her relationship with my mother and often experiences bad dreams featuring her grandmother.  She is a lot better at asserting herself than I ever was though, for which I am very grateful.

I'm standing up and clapping for you - for taking responsibility for the wrong choices, and for stopping them, and for not being eaten by remorse about it. Yay for health! Yay for giving your DD a chance that someone should have given you!

[happyfingers]

Thank you so much!  I'm really trying to put an end to the BPD cycle in our family.  I'm fearful sometimes that I might be BPD too, but no way do I want DD to have to deal with the things I've had to deal with.

When my grandmother was alive, everyone thought the four generations of us always being together was so sweet.  Little did they know that what was really holding us together was mental illness.  Gah, enough!

[HoneyCreek]

Thank you so much!  I'm really trying to put an end to the BPD cycle in our family.  I'm fearful sometimes that I might be BPD too, but no way do I want DD to have to deal with the things I've had to deal with.

When my grandmother was alive, everyone thought the four generations of us always being together was so sweet.  Little did they know that what was really holding us together was mental illness.  Gah, enough!

HappyFingers I think we could be related! It is so reassuring to know that there are others out there going through the same thing.