Waiting For The Impossible

Dear Mom,

It seems that I have done this so many times before, been down this same path. But this time is different. This time, you won’t be pointing any fingers at me, denying my memories or minimizing your abuse. That’s because I will never send you this letter. It has to be this way so that I can finally speak my truth and have the last word.

The very first thing you taught me about myself was that I was selfish. Growing up, you always told me that my first word was “more” and that ever since then I became more and more selfish and wanted more and more things for myself.

You also always told me that I always tried to hurt you and that I purposely did the opposite of whatever you told me, such as running in the street and pulling down the tablecloth when I was two years old. You would say that I was crazy, that there was something wrong with me. And I believed every word you told me because you were my mother, my everything.

On the one hand, you seemingly despised me but on the other hand, you became jealous and lashed out at me when I became close to my grandparents. Once, when I asked for them you said that they didn’t want to see me anymore because of how badly I had behaved the previous time we saw them. Another time when I asked for them you told me I only wanted to see them because they give me presents.

I was so scared of you. Scared of making you scream. Scared of being slapped by you. But inevitably, it would always eventually happen. Once because I forgot to take my shoes off before coming inside the house, another time after I fell down outside and my knee was bleeding. I was always so scared of falling because it provoked such anger in you.

So many major life events have been tainted by your hatred towards me. My high school graduation that you forced me to leave early from, my birthday dinner where you called me a fucking bitch, my l’chaim where you screamed at me because some guests had inconvenienced you by arriving late, and my wedding day, which you told me a few days later was the worst day of your life.

Yet, despite everything, or perhaps because of it, I still long for your love and acceptance. I still care what you think of me, though I try not to give it away. You would never guess that I spend hours cleaning my house before your visits. I pretend I don’t care about your opinions and am careful to never ask your advice. This is my way of giving you back a slap in the face. I want it to sting, the way your slaps stung me and made me cry. I want you to feel and recognize my pain, to take responsibility for the disaster that was my childhood. I know you aren’t capable of doing that though. So I am choosing to wait for the impossible.

5 Comments

  1. Betsy Glass September 27, 2017 at 10:13 am

    Oh this is SO sad. I truly grieve with you. I also grew up under the wrath and criticism of a controlling narcissistic mother. The only solace I can offer: It sounds like your mother – as mine – was in constant and excruciating pain from something(s) that had happened to her in her childhood. In addition, scientists are now saying that trauma can be passed on genetically as well. Again, you are not alone in your sorrow. Sending love, comfort, and peace to you.

    Reply
  2. Cilla September 27, 2017 at 8:31 pm

    I feel your pain. Always scared that something I said or did would provoke such anger. My mother eventually walked out on her children. And I for one haven’t seen or spoke to her since. She was not there when I dated, not there when I got engaged. She did not walk me down the aisle at my wedding and was not there to comfort me in childbirth. I have to believe that there is a reason for it… that it is all for the best.
    Raising my children I struggled , thinking that I might be following in her path. My children are now mostly grown and I’m happy to say that they are my best friends. I’m happy to say that the year I turned that age when she walked out on us, I celebrated. I overcame my fears.

    Reply
  3. Anonymous September 28, 2017 at 12:35 am

    I am so sorry. I lived a similar life. Be kind to yourself.
    The best thing I did, the kindest thing I did for myself, was to cut ties. They are no longer be able to sink their claws into me or my children. They are not safe.
    You are strong and deserving of love.

    Reply
  4. Simpático September 28, 2017 at 9:37 pm

    I feel your pain!

    I’ve been in a relationship like that, and it took a lot of energy and strength to leave it. With a parent, it many unique challenges in leaving.

    I’ve been attending meetings at ACoA and it has helped tremendously. While my parents are not Alcoholic, it has truly made a difference in my life.

    Best of luck!

    Reply
  5. Nobody September 29, 2017 at 10:10 am

    The biggest thing I learnt is that if someone doesn’t want to see it they won’t. Inatead of trying to make my mother understand I just tell myself she’s an idiot. It’s also the most painful. Whatever your mother tell you I can say it isn’t true.

    Reply

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