My mum. Things have always been incredibly up and down regarding my relationship with my mum. We are very similar personality-wise so 'clash' as my mother used to call it. I don't particularly see the similarities too much; she is selfish, self-centred, pigheaded, wannabe know it all who has intense anger problems and distrust of 'professionals' She is also stubborn, likes to have the the last word is controlling and obsessive.. in regards the last sentence I am like her. I am stubborn and I do prefer to have the last word. I do like to be in control -but I control myself excessively and damagingly- whereas she likes to control other people and everything else. My mother is a dramatic 'actor' she never saw anything wrong with turning on the tears/anger if she felt that situation was required or if she felt she was in some way losing control of what/who ever she was trying it on. It was a miracle if, despite the fact she ignored my issues and never saw them fit for help, she did not cry with other members of the family and neighbours/ANYONE WHO WOULD LISTEN.. about how she had a screw up for a daughter, how hard it was for her to have to deal with my suicide attempts and self-harm. How she had been unable to get me to eat for 'soo long' and how terribly stressful it was for her and how she felt she was getting ill herself. I am not denying that it must be hard and stressful to have your child struggling like that but I think it was harder knowing she knew what I was doing and was still completely ignoring it and still refusing to get me any support. I have had countless plates, chairs, knifes, ornaments thrown at me/in my direction. I tried to tell her once, before I actually attempted suicide, about how I was feeling but it ended up being a conversation about her and her difficulties and firstly, how I didn't know the meaning of struggling, and secondly, how to be honest I could just go ahead because she didn't care, no-body cared and it would actually be a relief for her. Needless to say, I went ahead. I can remember when I was 9, I tried to kill myself for the first time, I stole my dad's tie, tied one end to my wardrobe bar and the other around my neck; I don't really remember how well I'd actually done it, I can remember having a headache and my eyes going funny and a 'rushing' in my ears [from further experience it doesn't seem like I'd actually done too badly despite my age and lack of knowledge] My mum found me untied and took it off of me and picked me up and threw me on my bed, shouting that I was a complete idiot and what would the neighbours/school/family think of her. She looked through my clothes drawers and found my polarneck top and told me I was too wear that until she said I could take it off. I don't remember marks but I'm assuming there was. In terms of good moments the only one I can remember from when I was living at home still, was when I was in a complete mess, I'd self-harmed quite badly, couldn't stop crying and vomiting and still kept having flashbacks; she actually asked me how to help! not for a parent the bestest answer ever but the best I'd ever had yet, I told her I wanted my friend H, and [which suprised me even more] she actually got hold of her and got her to come over. Okay, within days she was going on to everyone about how her daughter hated her and refused to talk to her about how things really were, preferring to talk to her friends, how I was shutting her out of my life and that she didn't know what to do anymore [with I'm sure, plenty of tears]. My mum could be physical - although it wasn't a regular occurance - I can only really recall a handful of times when she'd actually hit me, although generally my dad would get involved before it got to that point and I would [once again] be kicked out and not allowed back until mum saw fit. I can remember there was this time where I'd spent 3 nights out in our local woods/common because mum just was not calming down. I had a CAMH's session that day and without meaning to it was mentioned. Obviously she was concerned but I just laughed it off and said I was sure mum would have calmed down by now, but she made me promise that I would be going 'home' that night, and that she would call my mum; I kinda freaked, and said it was fine, I could/would sort it out but typically she got involved, plus informed social services [I know their kinda obliged to do it but I couldn't help thinking it'd just made things worse]. When I got back that night, my mum completely flipped out at me, "for one telling things that should 'remain within the family' to outsiders and if that wasn't bad enough I'd told a fucking professional! Plus that I was every name under the sun and again she regretted having me because I did nothing but ruin her life, and I did nothing but ruin her figure"
Then she pushed me, pulled me onto the floor and pretty much just layed into me. Until my dad pulled her off of me and told me to go to my room. The only other time that I remember specifically was not long after she told me about my dad not being my biological father, and me telling her she was a slut [because she said she didn't know who my real father was] she slapped me so hard I actually saw stars, and I can remember being amazed that that could actually happen then just walked out.. My friend was waiting for me on the wall outside, and he took me back to his to try and sort it out. It still bruised and I had my mothers handprint on my face for almost a week.. Luckily [I suppose] I naturally have red cheeks so once the purple had gone it wasn't too bad. I missed that weeks CAMH's appointment. My mum has been really ill recently, as in on life support kinda ill. It was a heart condition -hereditory, which coincidently I have too, thanks mum :/- that caused it and she ended up with brain damage including very bad memory problems. Now my mum can't remember half of anything she's done/said to me. In fact probably even less then half, she can barely remember any of it. So now I hate someone for things that she can't remember doing and under her new temperament [she's changed one hell of alot] wouldn't even dream of or imagine herself doing. I had finally got myself to a point where I wanted to talk through these things with her, if she refused then I'd know that I tried, if she agreed then great, hopefully we could resolve some issues. Win, win I thought. Then she got ill. I put it all on hold, wait till she's better, now it's 7 months down the line and her memory issues are still bad. She still can't remember much at all so dicussing these things would be pointless. So now what do I do? I've got so much in my head, all her hate, the anger she felt for me and the questions that come with it.. generally why kinda questions. Why did you treat me like that? Why do you treat me so different to the other girls? Why do you hate me so much? etc. So yeah, I have questions. And still no way of getting answers. I love her. Still. Despite everything. [Which annoyingly enough seems to be a bit of a trend with me] and I always will. I just can't see our relationship getting any better/closer if I can't resolve this stuff in my head. Doctors have said even if theres improvement she's unlikely to get many memories back. That she's always going to be different to how she was before. Being different is not the problem - it's actually brilliant, she's such a nicer, kinder person in some ways; in other ways she's still arkwardly difficult and controlling but whatever, it's not in the same league as before. I'm still stuck with it all though. In my head.. why was I never good enough? Never smart, funny, pretty, thin enough.. Plus how can someones mother appear to hate them so much..
No comments:
Post a Comment