Anniversary of my mom's death.

[Harri]

Today.

I don't do anniversary things like remembering a dead persons birth date or death date so usually I am either oblivious or have one of those 'oh yeah, that's right' moments around the time of year.

This year is different.  I am not dealing well with the anniversary... .or maybe I am.  I don't know what dealing well with it means to be honest.  Not in this context. 

She died October 27, 2007.  We buried her October 30th.  She had been sick, terminally for several months but never told us.  I was over at her house about 2 weeks prior to her death and she was weak and tired and very shaky.  My brother had to help her change seats.  The fact that she was even sitting down with us was odd as she usually stood leaning against the counter in the kitchen, the place where she ruled the house and berated and abused us all, always watching and listening.  Those eyes following, the look of anger and contempt on her face.  But not that day.  We knew she was 'recovering' from her chemo that she said she finished months earlier, but she lied to us. 

I think this year I resent that.  The lying.  She never told us.  When we found out her cancer had returned after a 7 year remission, I was with her.  I happened to be off work to recover from my own surgery that happened in Nov of 2006 and had my own tests and whatnot at the hospital so it was easy to just take her with me or tag along.  I worked in the area too, often able to walk to my post ops after I did return to work so it was convenient.

But the lying.  I am pretty sure she found out around February of 2007 that her cancer had spread.  I had yet to go in for an even bigger and more complicated surgery that happened later that month,a surgery that was supposed to take place September 2006 but got put off due to complications that had to be addressed first.  So anyway, we all had our hands full with life, health issues, doctors appointments.  I was back to work.  Still trying to manage limited contact with my family but also trying to follow what felt right for me in terms of helping out.  But doing so required a lot of strength that some days, weeks and months I just did not have.  After I had the big surgery in Feb, which was botched and the complications are still causing health problems more than a decade later, I was stressed, closed off, not willing to get together with my mom.   I was with my ex back then and my focus was on that and financial stuff and trying not to be homeless.  Looking back, I can see I was shut down.

See, she would call me wanting to spend time with me.  Go out to lunch, go shopping.  I hated doing those things and I sure as hell did not want to do those things with her.  It was only after she died that I realized she was trying.  She was trying to reach out and make memories with me.  She used to tell me that when she was having her good days while growing up.  'Remember this Harri.  It is important to me that you remember the times we laughed together.'  And boy did we laugh.  She was funny.  Strange, quirky, hysterical, irreverent... .  sexually and emotionally abusive, raging, schizophrenic scary, and BPD.  Interesting mix. 

Now when I remember her that way, on her 'good days', I can laugh fully.  Oh the stories I could share!  But it hurts too.  If she could make the conscious choice when she knew she was terminal and when I was being told how sick I was by my doctors a part of me is sad that she could not have fought harder and tried harder when I was growing up.  I keep going back to the fact that everything that happened was so unnecessary.  None of it had to be. 

I am also angry.  So angry and tired from fighting to get healthy and learn things I should have learned decades ago.  I know.  Acceptance.  Radical acceptance.  I think what I am feeling right now is acceptance though.  No one has ever said that acceptance is a feel good sort of thing.  I think there can be pain and peace in grief and  I feel like I am grieving on a deeper level than before.  Not one bit of this is new or a revelation.  It is just something I have to look at again and turn round and round in the light of today.  The light that is brighter with every bit of learning and healing I have already done.  The light that is almost blinding me now so I no longer have my super power of dissociation to keep me safe and blissfully calm and numb.  Yeah, I am also sad that I lost that ability.  Not completely, but I certainly can't refer to it as my super power any more.  Now it is just a pain in the neck mostly.  I miss it though.

Let's go back to her lying about her dying. <--- I am only somewhat horrified that my brain is teasing me with inappropriate rhymes right now.  I bet we could come up with a song as a group PSI exercise if we wanted to.  When I say that line there is a catchy little tune playing in my head.  

Previously when I thought about her keeping this secret I was relieved.  Relieved I did not know and was never faced with having to deal with feelings of obligation and guilt for still not wanting to be with her.  Now though, I am angry that once again she took away my power to make my own choice about what I wanted.  I think I know and understand her enough that her choice makes sense... .to not say anything because who wants something that is not freely given out of joy or love, but another part of me thinks it was so she could be a martyr in death.  Someone who sacrificed so much for her family and especially her daughter and look how badly she treated me even though I tried so hard to make her laugh and loved her so dearly.

I know she had the right to choose how she wanted to die and who she wanted to tell.  I do believe that.  But even knowing that this feels like a final attempt at control from her.  It feels selfish of her.  This year i feel like I was played and I am powerless to turn this around. 

I keep reminding myself of what I learned while sitting in her hospital room when she was dying (thankfully it only took 3 days).  I sat there looking at her as she slowly faded away when we took her off life support.  They had given her quite a bit of morphine so she was out of it.  But I sat there wondering what was wrong with me for not crying or being devastated like my brother and father were.  There were several of her doctors who came by and stood with us in the room, just watching quietly paying their respects.  And there I was, watching, thinking and I was wondering what was wrong with me that I could not love her like they seemed to.  I finally realized that my ability to love was just fine.  I was also feeling sorrow, regret, grief... .I was missing that I was feeling those things.  I was also missing that there was nothing wrong with my ability to love.  I was just judging my ability to do so with a person who made it dangerous to act on my feelings of love.

I compare my mothers death to my fathers.  As usual, my mother took center stage, my father was an afterthought.  he died on October 19, 2009.  By that time, I had to stop working for a while, lost all my money and had no way to support myself and no where to live.  I moved in with him so he could help me.  That help never came.  I had to help him when I realized he had Alzheimers while waiting for more revision surgeries.  He died about a year and a half later.  I found him dead in bed at 1:21 pm after I had been out to the bank, the store, and had groceries delivered.  I went in to wake him up and... .well... .yeah, nope, not gonna happen.  I went out to the living room and sat there, sitting quietly for a few minutes before wondering if it was appropriate to call 911 for someone who was long dead.  It was not like it was an emergency or anything.  He was way past the point of help.  I did call 911 though.  I felt relief with him too.

It is funny.  years later, I am sitting here today finally grieving my mom's passing on a deep level.  With my dad that came after they took his body away.  I was a bit of a wreck.  Well, what passed as a wreck for me back then.  I went to work the following Monday (I was back to working part time by then) and was fine.  I was even able to plan the funeral after.

What a difference though and yet nothing really changed.  In life, my mother was big and grand, and she sort of followed true to form in her death, leaving me with complicated and twisted feelings, damaged and hurt.  In life, my dead was a non factor.  He was an afterthought after I did errands and took care of important things... .and his death mirrored that.  In the grand scheme of things he was not significant.

[Woolspinner2000]

Harri,

I feel privileged that you allowed me to sit with you as you were vulnerable and told us about how this whole scenario played out. Thank you for the glimpse and for sharing what is on your mind and heart today, all mixed up together. I hope it is okay that I just sit quietly with you. I care enough to stay and keep you company.

 
Woolsie

[Harley Quinn]

Harri thank you for opening up to us and sharing.  My heart goes out to you for all you've lived through and all that you are processing on this journey.   

Love and light x

[Learnnow]

Harri, thank you for sharing. 

[Turkish]

Previously when I thought about her keeping this secret I was relieved.  Relieved I did not know and was never faced with having to deal with feelings of obligation and guilt for still not wanting to be with her.  Now though, I am angry that once again she took away my power to make my own choice about what I wanted.

I know it's hard to look back over a decade,  but what do you think you would have done had she told you?

FWIW, I think you did the right thing in her last few days.  You could have screamed in her face on her deathbed but you didn't. 

I think it's very hard to deal with the emotions felt towards someone who hurt you deeply (even criminally) but who wasn't all bad. From the point of view of a child, it's harder,  because children don't know any better.  Even as adults when we do know better,  it's impossible to un-remember those child feelings. 

[Harri]

Thank you.

Turkish, I don't know.  Knowing what I know now, I think I might have tried, maybe use the tools I know about now.  But is that a fair way for me to look at it?  As if I can go back in time with the knowledge and healing I gained since her death?  Another but... .is anything in life supposed to be fair?  Nothing really has been so far and I've been okay with that.  I notice but who am I to expect fair?

If I had to guess if knowing would have made a difference back then but I knew nothing of what I do now... .I think I would have gotten together with her at least for lunch, maybe once in a while.  Out of a sense of duty and feeling like I was doing the right thing with maybe a bit of wistful and wishful thinking.  I had long before come to see the small, hurt damaged person she was instead of the big powerful scary person she always was in my mind, since childhood.  I had stopped giving her the power to hurt me or even touch me in any way so it would not have hurt me to be with her.  It would have annoyed me, I would have resented it... .but it would have been my choice so the annoyance and resentment would not have eaten away at me.   By then she was a scared, frightened little being when I looked at her.  I pitied her but I also felt compassion and sorrow.  Of course my anger was there as well.  So many conflicting emotions.

Eeerrrmm... .did I answer your question?  

Okay, for the rest of this, I go into very boring detail and do not expect others to read it.  It is for me.  A release of memories and thoughts I have never shared about my mothers death not even here.

I can't imagine screaming at her in her death bed.   I had no desire to.  I did not want her scared.  I remember saying that when talking with one of the ICU nurses.  See earlier that day, my father took her to her cardiologist for an appointment that Thursday who sent her right to the hospital.  I got a call while I was at work.  I was busy but they put the call through and I remember my dad saying my mom was in the hospital and was very sick.  But he was not a reliable reporter.  He was a drama queen and a cryer so it was hard to tell.  I told him I was busy and would talk to him later.  I actually forgot until my brother called me asking me what was going on... .then I remembered.  Apparently my Dad called him hysterical and crying and my brother knew to check with me.  I did not know and told him about the call I got at work.  I hung up and minutes later my dad called me and again said my mom was sick.  I said I would go to the hospital and he thanked me.  I remember feeling grateful and guilty that my brother got the hysterical call.  

I hung up.  Took the time to eat dinner and then went to the hospital.  Met up with my brother and we got there to find my mother barely able to breathe.  She had her advanced medical directive and we knew she did not want any heroic measures taken but she was conscious and able to make her own decision so when the surgeon asked if she wanted to be intubated to help her breathe she croaked yes.  Then he asked if she wanted him to try to operate and she nodded her head yes.  But the surgery did not work.  She ended up in ICU and we were told it was a wait and see... .give it 24 hours.  But her systems started shutting down late Friday and then Saturday we knew.  I told her we tried everything to help her but nothing had worked.  I am not sure if it was the right thing to do.  I would have wanted to know.  She could talk at that point, she could have said some last words, a goodbye, whatever, but chose not to.  That confuses me.  Why?  Even if it was to tell us to go to hell.  Why?

Like I said my mom had her advance directive.  She had one written up special by an elder care lawyer many years before.  Her paranoia was pretty high that we would try to kill her off.  She had told me what her directive said; that she did not want extrodinary measures taken but we could not deprive her of food, fluids or pain medication (she was scared we would starve her to death-- her words exactly).  She was convinced I would do those things.  When she told me this, she was pointing to her gun and she whispered 'Remember I have that because of you'.  This was years prior but that kind of thing just sticks with you.   So when she was in the ICU on life support her nurse was upset.  See she had not been there for the conversation in the ER when my mom was asked if she wanted to be intubated or have surgery.  All she saw were the multiple machines and the living will in her chart that said no extraordinary measures.  

One of my brothers friends was a surgeon on staff at the hospital and he wanted him to review her case before we took my mom off support.  I saw no harm in that.  My mom was not in pain nor was she suffering at that point and it was so important to my brother.  I said okay and so did my dad.  While waiting for that, my brother took my dad home to wash up and change and I stayed.  Well, I had gone for a walk and went back in the room.  The nurse was angry, talking to another nurse in the room and saying how we were keeping her alive against her wishes and how we were waiting for a doctor who was not even on her case... .she shut up when she saw me.  I just froze.  Went numb.  Could not process this until last month or so.  Never told any one this until now.  She thought we were doing things against my moms will and yet my mom was the one who was so afraid we would kill her off and not take proper care of her.

I don't know why but this hurts so much.  It really did take me over a decade to put the pieces together and figure out why it bothered me so much.  I've said I was a slow processor before, but even I think that is a bit excessive.  

It feels good to write it out though.  It's one of those things that has been eating away at me.  The shame of knowing my mother was so scared of me, trusted me so little and actually told a lawyer and had it put in writing and put in her chart... .and then to hear the nurse say I was going against my moms wishes.  It was too much.  When I shut down I really shut down.

It's all so strange this is coming up now.  

I feel better after writing it here though.  I feel freer.

[freespirit]

Harri,

I feel privileged that you allowed me to sit with you as you were vulnerable and told us about how this whole scenario played out. Thank you for the glimpse and for sharing what is on your mind and heart today, all mixed up together. I hope it is okay that I just sit quietly with you. I care enough to stay and keep you company.

 
Woolsie

Harri , I would like to reflect what Wools is saying, and to say thank you for sharing your story. I am blessed to be here. Thank you  

[JNChell]

Harri, thanks for sharing. I don’t really do the dates either. But, sometimes I do.

The death of my parents was a very confusing time. I’ve never been more conflicted. I wasn’t sure how to feel. My head and my heart were in a battle. The ultimate winning feeling was sadness and the battle ended in a draw. I’m still working on the negotiations on how to get my heart and mind to leave the battlefield, but at least the fighting has stopped and each side has it’s own camp for now.

It was only after she died that I realized she was trying.  She was trying to reach out and make memories with me.

I think this is a beautiful observation and that you should be proud of yourself for it. I think that you should also cut yourself some slack and take into consideration that it was damn near impossible for you to come to this realization amongst the noise and dysfunction that she created while alive. Do you think that it took some peace and quiet to come to your conclusion?

I keep going back to the fact that everything that happened was so unnecessary.  None of it had to be.

  Yeah. Please correct if I’m wrong, but I sense you grieving your childhood here, as well as the parent that you were deprived of. You’re at the root (core) of your life. I know how hard it is because I’m right there with you. This is where it all began. The hard part is realizing that there aren’t any answers here. But, the truth is here. I wonder if it’s possible to get stuck in the truth of the matter. To sit with it long enough that it becomes comfortable and creates a new normal around the old one. Another layer. I wonder if moving on should feel uncomfortable because it means becoming vulnerable to things that are foreign to us.

I am also angry.  So angry and tired from fighting to get healthy and learn things I should have learned decades ago.

We have a lot in common. I have spoken to my T about this a few times. She tries to validate my feelings by saying that she has elderly clients that are just now beginning their journey. It doesn’t really help, but I don’t say it. However, it does make me realize that I need to grieve my 20’s and 30’s as well. Don’t get me wrong, my T and I are a good fit, but nothing is perfect.

I understand the anger and exhaustion. I’m confident that the truce will eventually happen and that peace and wisdom will prevail in our bodies and minds. We’ll possess an armor that is hard and impenetrable to the things that wish to hurt us, but as soft and warm as a dryer fresh blanket to the things that give us care and cause.

I’ve went on long enough here. Do something nice for yourself today, Harri. Much love.

[Kwamina]

Hi Harri

I am glad you chose to post about what you are going through now

This year is different.  I am not dealing well with the anniversary... .or maybe I am.  I don't know what dealing well with it means to be honest.  Not in this context.

Why do you think it is that this year it's different? Are there changes in your life that perhaps have caused you to enter a new level of healing (and grieving)?

This year i feel like I was played and I am powerless to turn this around.

Yeah, I can definitely understand why you would feel this way. If you had known, that knowledge might have led you to do certain things differently. She did not give you the chance to see what you would have done if you had known she was terminally sick and because of the enormous finality of death, you'll also never know how things could or would have been differently.

In the grand scheme of things he was not significant.

How does this make you feel, considering your father as not very significant in the grand scheme of things?

Okay, for the rest of this, I go into very boring detail and do not expect others to read it.  It is for me.

Sure you don't

Might be time to change your expectations because I'm fairly certain this will be read by many others who are very much interested in your story! ;)

I told her we tried everything to help her but nothing had worked.  I am not sure if it was the right thing to do.  I would have wanted to know.  She could talk at that point, she could have said some last words, a goodbye, whatever, but chose not to.  That confuses me.  Why?  Even if it was to tell us to go to hell.  Why?

Why do you think she didn't say anything? Could it perhaps be that in spite of everything, her obvious dysfunction, the thought of letting go of this life made her very sad and was not something she wanted to accept?

Her paranoia was pretty high that we would try to kill her off.  She had told me what her directive said; that she did not want extrodinary measures taken but we could not deprive her of food, fluids or pain medication (she was scared we would starve her to death-- her words exactly).  She was convinced I would do those things.  When she told me this, she was pointing to her gun and she whispered 'Remember I have that because of you'.  This was years prior but that kind of thing just sticks with you.

Yes, things like this will definitely stick with you. I still remember very well when you first shared your mother used to sit with a gun besides her because she was 'scared' of you. In her delusional mind she might have actually believed you were a danger to her, yet in the reality of the rational minds, your mother sadly was the one who actually was a danger, a danger to you, your brother, your father but also actually to herself.

Well, I had gone for a walk and went back in the room.  The nurse was angry, talking to another nurse in the room and saying how we were keeping her alive against her wishes and how we were waiting for a doctor who was not even on her case... .she shut up when she saw me.  I just froze.  Went numb.  Could not process this until last month or so.  Never told any one this until now.  She thought we were doing things against my moms will and yet my mom was the one who was so afraid we would kill her off and not take proper care of her.

I am very sorry you had this painful experience. Being on the verge of losing your mother is already painful and distressing enough. Though the nurses might not have had all the information, hearing them talk like this only adds more pain to what already was such a difficult time. Could it perhaps be that it felt like that even at the very end of your mother's life, you were still being totally misunderstood and portrayed as some wicked person which you were not?

The Board Parrot

[Fie]

Hello Harri,


I'm happy to be one of the readers of your story, you are very generous in opening your heart to us.

I so much understand the anger you are feeling. I am pretty certain I would feel the same way. Honesty to me is important, so if I were in your shoes I would feel like 'Can't you even be honest about dying' ? 

I am not sure if my anger would be related to wanting to have acted differently.  Honesty is a form of intimacy, and it doesn't imply that the person at the receiving end of it should change his reactions because he's been honest towards. For me it's just something that people should be able to receive. When I notice people are not honest to me it can really disappoint or anger me.

That moment you stepped in on the nurses must have been a really horrible one for you. I am really sorry about that.  Being damned if you do, damned if you don't.  Here you were, trying to do the best you could (and more... .), you were in a torn situation and even then it was not good enough. You must have felt flabbergasted.

Don't dwell on what you did or didn't do in the past Harri. You are a wonderful person and life is happening right now.

xxx

[Hope80]

Harri,

Thank you for sharing your story, I am sorry to hear that you are struggling with the memory of your mother. I understand perfectly well that you wish things had been different and that she had been honest about her health. She may have not told you because she didn’t want to add to your stress. Or she may have lied so that she would pass as the martyr. You may never know why she did it.

If she could make the conscious choice when she knew she was terminal and when I was being told how sick I was by my doctors a part of me is sad that she could not have fought harder and tried harder when I was growing up.  I keep going back to the fact that everything that happened was so unnecessary.  None of it had to be.

Reflecting on this time, you suppose she had some clarity and insight. Maybe she did, and maybe she didn’t. Sometimes my mother has these fleeting moments of clarity, but they don’t last as she rewrites her story to match her mood and feelings. You are jumping from what you see as your mother’s moment of clarity to your mother as always being insightful and conscious of her behaviors and words. She hurt you a lot, but she may not have done it to cause you pain... .It’s possible that she didn’t take actual pleasure in causing you pain. Maybe she was selfish in the way she put her feelings first with no regard for anyone else’s. The fact that she told you to cherish the good days indicates that she did love you. You were both very happy being together and felt loved during these times.

I don’t know the full situation so I may be wrong about some things, but I hope it helped some. Stay strong.

[Harri]

Hope: You may never know why she did it. Very true, thank you.  Maybe she did not want to add to my stress.  I know she was worried about me.  She actually was quite respectful, for her, of my need to not tlk about my own illnesses and not tell me how nervous and upset she was through i knew.  My dad was not quite so able to handle it but tried.   
ADDED:  I've been thinking about this.  She had me taking her to her doc appointments when she was diagnosed with her reoccurance.  She knew I knew.  I was with her while off work recovering from my own surgeries and tests while going with her.  Even after my big surgery in february she wanted me to take care of her.  seemed to have no clue.  actually expected me to be able to pick things up off the floor and carry heavy things (I couldn't)... .oblivious to me and my needs in so many ways.  Trying to reconcile this with everything else.  I'll get there.

I do believe my mother loved me and most of what she did was out of love for me... .twisted and disordered love but what passed as love for her.  There were times however when she did receive great satisfaction from hurting me... .I could see it in her eyes and the smile on her face.   She was lashing out in response to what she saw as my hurting her and my betrayal of her.  I actually understand that hurt, i do not understand the satisfaction and what I can only call pleasure on her face.

With all that said though, i do believe she loved me as she knew love.  Thank you Hope.  I think some people have difficulty understanding that and it helps that you get it.  I think too that youa re right that I a m thinking she had long term times of lucidity. 


Fie: 'Can't you even be honest about dying' Yeah.  She has her right to die as she chooses (to an extent).  My wishing she had chosen differently does not change that.  About how I felt overhearing the nurses... .i am not sure how i am feeling.  I sort of catch my breath when i think of it now.  i get glimpses of feeling embarassment, frustration, anger even hurt but nothing sticks for long.  That is infuriating.

Kwamina,  i am not sure why this year is different for me.  it has been building for a while.  looking back her birthday was in august but like i said, i dont generally pay attention to those things.  but i started feeling very off back mid august and have jsut let it build... .knowing something is off and doing self care, being careful and all but with this pull to remember the details surrounding my mothers death. 

maybe this is so i can release some secrets that i had been holding onto.  Turning things around in my head only gets me so far.  Even writing... .it helps but unless it is out there (here where i am vulnerable rather than safe in my isolation) it only takes me so far.  but i had nothing to write about, nothing concrete until the 27th. 

I can say that I have healed more so it seems obvious this will come out now... .but why is it revolving around her death when her life was so much bigger and more brutal and heartbreaking?   Lingering feelings of shame?  No longer pushing aside the fact that she actually told someone way outside the family her fears about me killing her?    She still played the poor martyred  fragile Mother with a capital M mother who did nothing but love her daughter the best she could only to have to protect herself in her dying moments.  it is like an f-in movie. 

I'm still fragile and vulnerable to her.  Grrrr.

Seriously, I did not expect anyone to read this long and somewhat repetitive and boring story as I flounder my way through.  Hoped?  Sure. 

Could it perhaps be that in spite of everything, her obvious dysfunction, the thought of letting go of this life made her very sad and was not something she wanted to accept? Maybe.  I think she might have been more concerned with meeting God.  Not that she thought she did anything but but that she failed with me.  She believed that.  Right till the end it was her duty to make sure she raised me right.  I was about to turn 42 when she died and she would still tell me that.  she was worried about *her* soul. 

I don't even know what to do with that.  It makes me look at the other stuff, the good stuff differently.  Like was she trying to earn points by making happy memories with me so she could get a higher grade with God.  Yep, I feel ridiculous writing that but it is part of what has been nagging at me.

Who's the crazy paranoid one here?  Bitterness and suspicion is bubbling up. 
Could it perhaps be that it felt like that even at the very end of your mother's life, you were still being totally misunderstood and portrayed as some wicked person which you were not? Yes.  It's not fair and it hurts and it makes me angry and sad and confused.

JNChell I know you get this and I am sorry for it.  My main feelings at the time were relief and sadness.  My ex told me that it iwas okay to feel relief... .and I held on to that.  Wish I could have gotten there without needing him or another person though it was where I was at the time.  I keep looking back and expecting me to have done then what I would do now.  I am different and stronger and healthier and also more vulnerable.

I think that you should also cut yourself some slack and take into consideration that it was damn near impossible for you to come to this realization amongst the noise and dysfunction that she created while alive. Do you think that it took some peace and quiet to come to your conclusion? Well, now I am all topsy turvy again with what I see.  I don't think it will take as long to come to a point of peace this timea round but I am not sure about this any more.  Right now I am back to questioning her motive for doing what she did in trying to make memories.  I will never know for sure, like Hope80 said, but given what I experienced from her and how she could turn on a dime and how utterly self centered she was, I can cut myself some slack for spending a bit of time questioning this.  Does that count?

Yes, what this is is another layer of grief.  It is all good though right now it do not like it a bit.  I agree it is natural to feel scared as we move into new ways of being.  It does make  us vulnerable, but I find it exciting too.  The fact that i do not like feeling like I do now and can no longer dissociate as much is a good thing as I will force myself to work my way through in hope and belief there is a better way of being to become.  I'll tell ya though.  If I get there and it is not better, I will be pissed. 

Thank you.

[Kwamina]

Right now I am back to questioning her motive for doing what she did in trying to make memories.  I will never know for sure, like Hope80 said, but given what I experienced from her and how she could turn on a dime and how utterly self centered she was, I can cut myself some slack for spending a bit of time questioning this.  Does that count?

It does count... .for something  You indeed can't know for sure, yet I can also see how that doesn't necessarily always completely stops the questioning of oneself. But say that you could know for sure, what would change for you then?

Or to put it differently perhaps, what is it you are looking for, what are the main answers you are looking for when looking back at the past and trying to determine your mother's true motives? I realize this little question is actually quite a big question!

Is it perhaps that what on the surface primarily seems like you questioning her motives, is actually mainly about trying to find an answer to an important underlying question? The question being whether your mother actually truly loved you at all or not? And/or the question whether you are loveable or not, whether you are worthy of love? (you are!  :heart

I'll tell ya though.  If I get there and it is not better, I will be pissed.  

Take it easy beagle

[Harri]

Yeah Parrot.  This: 

Is it perhaps that what on the surface primarily seems like you questioning her motives, is actually mainly about trying to find an answer to an important underlying question? The question being whether your mother actually truly loved you at all or not? And/or the question whether you are loveable or not, whether you are worthy of love?

  Yes.  I still have lingering doubts about my mothers love for me.  I mean I know she believed she loved me, but she also believed my grandfather appeared to her in demon form and that I was possessed and wanted to kill her so how valid is her belief in all of this? 

Am I lovable/worthy of love?  lets say that I can believe that some people can like me and I am not evil or bad. 

I resent that she can try so hard to get good with God but I wasn't really a consideration. 

yeah.  I am jealous of her desire to please God.  Where did I figure in?  Why wasn't I valued for me rather than for scoring points with God's raffle to enter into heaven?   I was a prop.  A tool... .in more ways than one.   I am angry and hurt. 

Love the picture.  the facial expression is perfect. 

[Panda39]

What a difference though and yet nothing really changed.  In life, my mother was big and grand, and she sort of followed true to form in her death, leaving me with complicated and twisted feelings, damaged and hurt.  In life, my dad was a non factor.  He was an afterthought after I did errands and took care of important things... .and his death mirrored that.  In the grand scheme of things he was not significant.

Hi Harri,

I think everyone dies the way they lived, at least that has been my experience.

Panda39

[Harri]

Panda, that gave me chills.

[Panda39]

My Grandfather a quiet, intellectual man, much loved... .died of cancer peacefully at home surrounded by family.

My Grandmother was tightfisted with money... .in a good way, I learned to love garage sales and rummage sales... .she lived in a senior living facility where you had a certain number of days in Skilled Nursing for free and then you had to pay.  She died on the last free day.

My dad a big child and practical joker... .kind of guy that would jump out of a closet and scare you just for fun.  Died of a massive heart attack while getting dressed on a Sunday.  He fell into the dresser drawer.  My mom arrived home and found him and her first thought laughingly was Panda's dad get out of the dresser drawer... .thought he was joking around. I think he would have loved the idea that her first thought was that he was joking.

Miss them all.
Panda39

[Harri]

   Thanks for sharing the Panda tales Panda.  I am sorry for their passing but the way they did it is pretty incredible.  I really hope that is okay to say. 

Wishing for things to have been different, even in their deaths, seems like a rabbit hole.  This big grief I am feeling is most definitely a combo of mourning the decades I lost and the parents I never had as well as finally feeling things completely.  It has not been pleasant but I am feeling better and better about things.  And I never went quite as deep into the rabbit hole and darkness as I have before so that is good.

Thank you 

[Panda39]

I know you know... .it's a process.  I'm sorry it hurts but eventually we push through and come out the other side. 

Panda39

[Harri]

Thanks Panda.  Yes, I know but I still need to be reminded. 

It just snuck up on me and then BAM it hit me hard.  A stealth attack by grief.  How many times do we have to revisit the same painful part of our past?  I am also blaming this on my healing and the fact that I no longer dissociate like I did before.  I've been learning new ways to deal with my feelings and I guess it was/is time for me to do it with grief.  Well, that's my theory and I am sticking with it until something better comes along.

[Fie]

Like was she trying to earn points by making happy memories with me so she could get a higher grade with God.  Yep, I feel ridiculous writing that but it is part of what has been nagging at me.
Who's the crazy paranoid one here?  Bitterness and suspicion is bubbling up.

That doesn’t sound ridiculous, nor paranoid. At all.

Have you ever thought of the possibility of projection ? Your mother protecting herself against you with a gun so you wouldn’t been able to kill her ... actually in her delusional mind, being afraid of herself wanting to harm her children, in a delusional or paranoid mood ?

Yes.  I still have lingering doubts about my mothers love for me.  I mean I know she believed she loved me, but she also believed my grandfather appeared to her in demon form and that I was possessed and wanted to kill her so how valid is her belief in all of this?

Is it possible you are confusing feelings and thoughts here ? If your mother loved you, that’s a feeling, not something you or her can/could rationalize. If she believed you were possessed, that’s a thought. She could still love you, and have this thought all the while.

[isilme]

Hi Harri.  I don't think I've got much to add that others haven't already said.  I just wanted to say I'm sorry her death was as difficult as her life for you, as conflicted and ambiguous.

[Harri]

Hi Isilme.  Thank you for reaching out to me even when I know you are dealing with your own stress and pain right now.  

Fie, yes projection began to fit about her fear of me and the gun when my current T told me she thought my mother was undiagnosed schizophrenic with paranoia and delusions.  Prior to that I thought is was just me, that she was able to see parts of me that I was unaware of. Obviously there is a lot of history and emotional abuse and lies that played into my ability to believe that.  A lot of head games.  But yes, as soon as the possible  schizophrenia diagnosis sunk in, I realized I was the one who should have been scared she would kill me.  But kids don't do that.  They take the blame and assume they are the wrong ones and because of the way i stayed enmeshed and living with one foot in my mothers reality I wasn't free from that until last year or so.  

If your mother loved you, that’s a feeling, not something you or her can/could rationalize. If she believed you were possessed, that’s a thought. She could still love you, and have this thought all the while.

Yes and thank you.  That rings true.

What is happening right now is that anger is rising up within me again.  Not like I have had before, or even long ago which I would describe as more of a rage.   The anger that one of the good things I could say about her (that she believed she loved me) was a manipulation... .feels like it was planned out even though I know logically that it was not.  It feels like it was all about her getting in good with her God and like I said, earning points to guarantee it.  She used me.

None of this is new really.  It is just another layer that I am working my way through.  I wasn't me I was her prop or her ticket to heaven.

It makes me angry how she distorted my vision of myself but this round I do not want to scream and rage, I just want to ... .I don't know.  I am angry.  It hurts and I am sad and so frustrated with her and with myself.  

Impossible expectations and responsibilities were placed on me.  My mind and my body will know things they should never know and I can't do a damn thing to change any of it.  I can't heal that.  All I can do is accept it.  

 

This gun business always gets me every time I write about it. 

[Turkish]

[Quote author Board Beagle]I realized I was the one who should have been scared she would kill me.  But kids don't do that.  They take the blame and assume they are the wrong ones [/quote]

Why do you think kids do that,  and why did you? One of my   friends said years ago,  "the poor little  loves his mom because he doesn't know any better." (I think he was talking about himself too)

[Harri]

All kids, even infants, blame themselves because of a primitive survival instinct.  We are programmed that way because to distrust our caregiver/parent is a threat to our survival.  We are too vulnerable otherwise. 

So I can see where my blaming myself and believing my mom began.  I think it continued further due to conditioning.  Lies, distortions, verbal emotional and sexual abuse all set up the long term enmeshment and lack of a strong sense of self.  Couple that with isolation and not much socialization and it makes sense.

I don't like it though.  I survived and now, today I am mostly glad, but for a long time this was no life.