Then. And Now.

THEN

Growing up, you were everything.

When I was a little girl I thought you were the most beautiful person in the entire world.

You always smelt of perfume and hairspray.  I would watch you admire yourself in the mirror.  I used to wish that you would admire me the way you admired your reflection.

I used to like watching you get ready to go out because it seemed to make you happy.  But I never wanted you to go.

One time I begged you to let me come with you but you played a cruel trick on me letting me ‘go out’ to the garden after letting me use your lipstick and perfume.  I never forgot how I felt in that moment.

Little did I know then, as a 5 or 6 year old, that that feeling would become more and more familiar to me.  More familiar even than your face.

 

You were at your happiest when you were away from me.  That was clear.  I wanted to make you happy so badly that I would go wherever you told me to go without argument.  But I never wanted to leave you.

You wanted to leave me though.

It was almost worth going for – seeing the happiness spread from your eyes to your mouth if someone offered to take me with them for a day, a weekend or a week.  It didn’t matter who it was.  The pleasure I saw on your face was everything.. until I realised that the pleasure was coming from escaping from me.

My heart would hurt as I left my home. My mum.  My world. It was so confusing seeing you smile so sweetly, so happily as I left you.  How does a child so young handle such feelings?

I was so small and thin.  I had bright green eyes like cats and long, knotty hair which ran down my back.  My “little pony” nightie and soft textured Barbie doll came everywhere with me.

I learnt that your happiness was more important than mine.

I suppose that it shows how pure a child’s love is.  So unconditional.  At an age where I should have been naturally selfish, I learnt that I would rather be heartbroken, hurt or scared than you be angry or unhappy.

 

I don’t have many memories of us together when I was a child.  I have no memories of picnics or parks.  No memories of cuddles or games.  I wish I did.  I wish we had baked cakes together.  I wish that you read to me.  Most of all, I wish you wanted me.

 

A year or so later you went to hospital and came home with another little girl.  A sister for me you said.  I cried and cried at the fear this little girl would take you away from me.  I cried even more when everyone else came over and walked right past me to see you and the new little girl.  I felt invisible.  I was scared.

Me, you, the new little girl and your boyfriend moved into a new house together.  The house felt big. It had stairs.  I got a swing and for my tenth birthday you said I could have a bike AND a bouncy castle party with friends from my class.  I was so excited.

A week or so later you told me I had to keep your secret like a big girl.  The secret was that man you were kissing.  The man who kept telling me we would go swimming and to theme parks.

When we went home that night it was dark and I got into bed.  I remember my quilt cover had 102 Dalmatians on it. It was blue and it felt new from the pack.

The shouting began.  Then plates and glasses were being thrown and smashed. I was scared.  I hid under my blanket and then you came upstairs and told me to get in the car NOW!! I asked if I could bring my blanket.

So much happened.  He was gone and a new man replaced him – just like that.  He wasn’t kind the new man.  He was angry.  He never did take me swimming.  He was scary.  He breathed so loud.  He shouted so much. I cried but I looked after my baby sister.

I moved schools again.  We moved house again and again and again… and then he was gone and a new man replaced him and repeat and repeat and repeat.

 

The thing that never changed was the fact that you were happiest when you were without me. I so rarely saw you but when I did, you were cold and angry.  I still loved you so much. I would do anything to make you happy.

One time I had an accident and my head was bleeding really badly. I wondered if I might die.  You said you couldn’t handle blood so someone else had to sort my head out.  I wondered if I died you might love me more.

 

Life continued to change, never the same for long.  New men, new houses, new schools, new people.  I got older. I saw you less.  You never seemed happy to see me – unless I was leaving.  That is a very painful memory to have.

 

NOW 

Now I am older than you were then.  I could have a 5 or 6 year old child;  but I don’t yet.  Maybe one day my baby will sit and watch me get ready in the mirror like I used to do with you, but I will always admire my child more then my reflection in the mirror.  I will not send her away.

My happiness and my smile; the glint in my eye will come from lifting her from her cot,, from picking her up for a cuddle or watching her play happily.  NOT from watching her leave.

The funny thing is that these days, now, you think it is ME who is cruel because I don’t like to see you as much as you would like me to.

Make no mistake, it isn’t that you want to see me.  That you love or miss me.  You just want me to want you like I used to.

Now you want me to put your happiness before my own like I used to do.  Like you taught me to.  Now I put myself first.  Good girl gone bad.

Now I fight back for that 5 year old child who lives inside me.  Now I smile when I look in the mirror too, not at my reflection like you did, but at her because now she feels loved.

 

You abused your power and now you have none.

Now I leave you – the thing that you always wanted and yet, now you cry.

It is too late.

I don’t see you as everything anymore.

I don’t think you are the most beautiful person in the entire world now.

 

But you still smell of perfume and hairspray;
and you still admire yourself in the mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

Some things

Things I need to write about.

  1. Today I found out that an old school friend has died. He was 30, recently married and had a 7 month old baby.  We haven’t spoken for years since college but it is such a shock and such tragic news.
  2. Therapy today – I only bloody saw one of T’s daughters for the first time.
  3. I never write about my relationship with my husband but I feel I need to write about some feelings I have right now regarding him/us.
  4. The money.

Okay so there isn’t much more for me to say about number 1.  The news is bloody tragic. It really has shocked me so much, I just cannot believe it.  In fact, I mean that quite literally – I don’t feel like I have taken it in yet, it doesn’t seem possible that someone I knew for all of those years who was on a very similar path to me is now gone.  Just like that.  I keep thinking about his wife and their baby and how someone gets through something so terrible.  I keep picturing his face which is really hard and it reminds me of how I felt when another of my friends died at 21 years old – both of these people were in our group  at school.  Both now gone.  21 and 30 – no age to die.  One through suicide and one through an accident.

Number 2
Well, I can’t quite believe this but I pulled up to T’s earlier and I had only been stopped a matter of seconds when I saw someone out of the corner of my eye near T’s house.  I looked up and saw it was one of T’s daughters coming out of her house, carrying a dog in her arms.  She had nothing on her feet and was wearing a tracksuit. She got into her car which was facing mine and I played around with my phone to hide my awkwardness.  I looked up a few times and she was still looking in my direction and then she got out of the car, and went back inside.  I can only assume she left something in her car, but I have no idea why she had to take the dog with her – perhaps to stop it running outside or something.

It was weird seeing her. In 5 years I’ve never seen her despite seeing her car outside most times.  I’ve seen what she looks like enough times because I used to look at her on Instagram but it was weird seeing her in real life and, I suppose it was the shock of seeing her right there when I have never had to see anyone before.

Obviously my paranoid mind was thinking all sorts of things.   Had she come out to get a look at me?  Was she coming out to look at me because she knew it was me who used to look at her social media all the time? Did she purposely wait until my session time? And then I started wondering if T doesn’t stop her from doing that kind of thing – I mean, clients who relate to their T in the way I do and clients with mother issues/attachment issues really don’t want to be seeing T’s children do they?

To my surprise, I didn’t feel any strong feelings about seeing her and T didn’t say anything about it or ask how I felt etc so either she didn’t know I had or maybe she just saw I looked happy enough and so thought she would avoid it? Who knows.

Onto number 3..

So I rarely write about my marriage and mostly that is because there really isn’t much to say.  We don’t have big arguments or anything and we get on very well.  The only time we tend to disagree is about my mother or possibly money (me wanting to spend it by going out to eat or booking a holiday and him wanting to save it for a house, baby, the future etc).  However…. I’ve been feeling some things lately which I suppose I’ve been kinda trying to ignore but they’ve been getting louder and then today I feel it even more.  At the same time however, a bit of me wonders if it is about him at all or whether I am transferring some feelings about someone else/something else onto him because it is easier or safer or whether I am using these things as an excuse or something…. I don’t know.

The first thing that started this off was that he doesn’t seem to want to have sex hardly ever anymore.  I know that can happen, that sometimes people go through phases etc but I started to feel a little bit insecure about it and when I made a few comments, he would get a bit stroppy or tell me he didn’t want to discuss it.  He always says he is tired and stressed from the day or I have been to therapy or whatever and so he’s started to only want sex on a Saturday morning when the kids are all here and it makes me feel on edge.  Not being funny but it isn’t exactly relaxing knowing there are 3 sets of ears potentially listening out or that any second there could be a knock on the door or whatever, yet alone the fact we cannot make any noise whatsoever and the fact that due to this there is absolutely NO romance involved in it whatsoever.

Anyway… as we are trying to conceive and have been for what feels like eternity, there are times when we have to have sex and that alone is not romantic let me tell you.  That has probably made me feel even worse because he will be brutally honest and say things like “God do we have to” or “Eugh, again?” and I’m like, yeah, I don’t particularly want to either mate.  You know? Without being too graphic, its got to the point on those fertile days where there is no foreplay or kissing or anything and its not for mutual pleasure if you get my drift. It is a job to do. Another chore and I don’t blame him for this one – we both feel the same. It would be easy to blame the whole sex thing on this but it is no different the rest of the month so that doesn’t really work.

Anyway, sex aside I just feel a bit neglected recently I suppose.  It is all such silly things but things like I will text him and he will read it and ignore me rather than reply.  He will come home every night and just sit on the sofa and play on his phone and he will often stay up later than me because he wants to watch something and I need to get to bed as I get up so early.. then the kids are here and obviously the dynamic is different again.

I know that he loves me and I’m not worried that he is going to suddenly want a divorce or anything so I’m not trying to dramatize anything… I just feel a bit… kinda lonely I suppose if that makes sense?  I guess it is upsetting because it has never felt like this before and so it’s probably pretty normal stuff, but it isn’t normal for our marriage you know?

Anyway, as I started to write this he phoned me to say he was staying late at work tonight and I found myself being really stroppy and short with him on the phone.  I couldn’t help myself and the second I hung up, I burst into tears because I felt guilty for being a bitch.  Even writing this now makes me feel so bad I’m crying again.

I can’t help but feel that my feelings have nothing to do with any of the stuff I’ve written above but it feels like it is… so I’m confused as to whether it is any of that stuff and genuinely I do feel bit taken for granted or whether I am using him as an excuse for my bad/sad/mad feelings.

Which leads onto number 4

It has been a week since “the money” thing.  I haven’t actually given it much thought the last few days but to be honest that is mainly because of Tuesday’s night’s session and all the feelings that kicked up/my new favourite hobby of distracting myself to block out thinking and feeling.

All of the main feelings of panic and anxiety etc have passed in relation to the money thing and now I just feel like I need to almost pretend it didn’t happen to make sure that I keep my boundaries and don’t get sucked into doing anything differently.  Yesterday at work someone was talking about how they have been fixing furniture and revamping old things and it reminded me that when I was younger, my mum went mad for “sponging” the walls and things.  In the early 90s that was a thing apparently! Anyway as I remembered it I wanted to text my mum and remind her and in my head we would have a laugh over it.. but then I realised I shouldn’t be encouraging contact and I shouldn’t do that now of all times when I don’t usually make any kind of small-talk because it would send out the wrong message wouldn’t’ it? And besides, it might then prompt her to ask to see me and then I would end up feeling stressed about that… so just not worth it.  So I didn’t.  But I wanted to and that kinda sucks.

I’ve touched on this previously already but I felt quite shocked and overwhelmed by the stuff I spoke about in my session on Tuesday by the time I got home and I told T that in today’s session.  She said she wasn’t surprised and that she had just been sitting there thinking about how I told the story/stories differently this time to before.  I didn’t ask what she meant by that but I am pretty sure what she meant was that previously I just told the stories and this time, I felt the feelings the memories brought up.  I know that I felt that to be the case.

I can sense that I’m not fully letting the feelings come at the moment – I’m probably scared of the intensity of them, but I keep thinking to myself that the things I went through were actually awful and that I’ve played them down my entire life.  Now all of a sudden those things feel big.  They feel traumatic and they feel very, very, bloody unfair (I know, I know).

It made me see that my mother really didn’t care about how much pain I was in back then and she still doesn’t.  This is a real obvious statement I know, but I can feel it at the moment whereas often when I say or write that, it is the logic – the obvious logic of her words or actions.  Feeling it makes it more real.  More shocking and more painful.

In one of her messages about the money she referred to our issues as being “some differences but that is life” and reading that sentence made me feel so angry.  Some differences?! I mean, way to play it down.  Those differences are my entire life experience!! My feelings.  My hurt and my pain.  For her to just say something that casual like our different views hurt.

Since that message I’ve thought to myself I wonder if she really thinks that way.  I wonder if she genuinely tells herself that; that we just have different views (I.e. that my view is she was a shit mother and I grew up feeling unloved and that her view is that she was a great mother who did the best she could and I have nothing to feel hurt by).  I mean.. even if you think you did your best, wouldn’t you want to hear your child out and wouldn’t you apologise anyway? Wouldn’t you hear your child’s pain and want to reassure them that THEY did absolutely nothing wrong and apologise over and over again?  Not her.  She just thinks its a “different view”.

As I write this I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me.  How can she minimise my pain like that? How can she not self-reflect at all and see that actually, her choices in life put me in some really shitty situations and that she was barely around and did not have any idea how I actually FELT about anything.  All she sees is that she was a “single mother” (who wasn’t actually ever single) and that she “had no help from either of your dads” and that “other people have it much, much worse”.  So defensive.

That right there is why things between me and her will never, ever be able to be improved.  She cannot or will not allow herself to put herself in my shoes and see how I felt growing up.  She cannot hear that I was lonely, scared, insecure, felt unloved etc etc… she just can’t.  I’ve told her twice now and both times she just kicked off and called me things.  Both times we stopped speaking for a period of time. I told her once that I didn’t want to talk to her unless she had had an epiphany and she told me it was me that needed one, not her – when I stopped all the nonsense.

Because she is a narcissist and all she cares about is her own feelings.  The lack of empathy being one of the main characteristics of a narcissist. Suddenly so obvious.

After I told her about what her boyfriend did to me and she had finished fawning about everywhere telling everyone how she blamed herself and how she couldn’t eat or drink (perleaseee), she said to me “Oh sorry, do we all need to sit around and feel sorry for you every day for the rest of our lives. Poor you!!”.  THAT is the level of empathy my mother has about her (then) boyfriend being a fucking paedophile.

Because like EVERYTHING else, we need to just forget it all and have no feelings about any of it. Ever.

Don’t have feelings. Don’t talk about it.  Definitely do not confront her.

What the fuck though?

This article says it well:

Lack of empathy is a trademark of narcissistic parents. Empathizing with your children is feeling what they are feeling and acknowledging those feelings. It is the art of compassion and sensitivity, as well as the ability to give moral support in whatever they are experiencing. You do not have to agree with them but you are there for them. You put aside your own feelings and thoughts for the moment and tune in to their emotional needs to attempt to understand where they are coming from and why. Instead of citing rules or trying to give advice and direction, try this empathy exercise instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mother: The Sadistic, Evil, Abuser

**Trigger warning regarding sex and child abuse references**

I feel so full of anger right now.  I’ve just broken down in tears and all I can think about right now is how much I hate my mother and how she truly is the epitome of selfish. In fact, selfish doesn’t even start to describe her.  I’ve always thought of her as selfish for lots of reasons, but they were more generic things… today I am talking about the feelings that have hit me since writing my blog last night and the dream I had the night before. The sex stuff.  I have so many feelings about it today that I feel literally sick.

My mother having loud sex was always an issue for me growing up.  It may sound strange, but whenever it happened, my heart would beat so hard and so fast. I would always feel sick and I always felt really, really angry and cry.  I genuinely used to dread it when I heard her come upstairs to bed or when she would say that she and whatever bloke it was at the time were off to get an “early night”.  She would say that with a smug grin so it was obvious what she meant by that.

She still had ridiculously loud sex if I had friends over. That was horrifyingly embarrassing as you can probably imagine. I hated it.

Sometimes when I was a teenager and she was at it again, doing her porn-star bit, I would slam and bash doors, flush the chain numerous times to make lots of noise to somehow hope that would make a difference (Christ knows why!).  Obviously it didn’t.  If the anger took over, which it occasionally did, I would shout at the top of my voice “SHUT UPPP!!!!!!!”.  I would shit myself if I did that because I knew she would come in and go absolutely ballistic at me for ruining her fun.  As I wrote yesterday, the words that followed would always be along the lines of how I needed to grow up and how I should move out if I didn’t like it.  But clearly I couldn’t fucking move out could I? Where the fuck would I have gone?

As I told my fiance the memories I wrote about yesterday where she had sex in the same room as me when I was 9 and 11, he was horrified.  He said it was sex abuse and that she should have been locked up for that.  I understood for the first time that it really is abuse, isn’t it? I always thought there was something wrong with me for finding her sexual encounters so disturbing, particularly when I was an older teenager because I felt as though I was being childish and immature.

I know I’ve said this a lot lately, but if my stepchildren came to me and told me that their mother had been having sex with them in the room, I would flip out!

As I told my fiance about one of those memories in more detail, I told him how I just couldn’t understand why you would WANT to have sex with 4 young children asleep on the floor around the hotel bed.  What about that situation would turn you on and make you horny? I mean, come on, if me and my fiance were in a bed in a hotel room with his children asleep on the floor around us, sex would be the very, very furthest thing on my mind.  In fact as I write this, the first thing I think of is that I would have had the children in the bed and slept on the floor myself!

My fiance said that he thinks the fact us 4 children were all girls was telling. He thinks that she had sex with him in that hotel bed in front of us all because it was her way of marking her territory.  He said that he thinks she felt threatened by us female children.

How sick is that?????

The thing is, applying that to more recent times and it makes sense.  Her current husband (husband number 4) has 4 adult children.  2 girls and 2 boys. He no longer has contact with the 2 girls, because of my mother.  Isn’t that a bit of a coincidence?

My fiance said that he thinks she was so threatened by girls around her men, in case they “chose” them over her….  so then when I told her what her ex-boyfriend did to me…. she was furious and distraught (at first) but later told the child abuse worker that she couldn’t understand why he would have been interested in me because, and I quote, “she was very flat chested”. 

Now I see this whole situation differently.  She was truly furious and distraught because her worst nightmare had come true, hadn’t it? One of her men really did “pick me”.  It explains why she never helped me to deal with that event and said that hurtful line about wanting everyone to feel sorry for me.  How could I have been so selfish as to have been sexually abused by HER boyfriend.  Why would he have wanted me and not HER?

Shit.

So now when I think of the times when she had stupidly loud sex all over the house and with her door open, all I can think is that she did it almost to taunt me.. as if she were saying “Look how attractive and sexy he thinks I am. He wants ME, not you”.

And THAT thought, makes me want to bash her stupid, ugly face in.

My mother has often spoke to me about her sex life. She’s told me numerous times in recent years that he has lost her sex drive and that she never wants sex anymore.  That husband number 4 gets sulky and so she will “give in” and he will be happy for a few days or a week and she doesn’t have to do it for a while.  She tells me how when she met him, he was useless in bed and that she had to “teach him”.  This reminded me of how when I got a new boyfriend, including my now fiance, she would ask me what the sex was like and she would question, disbelievingly, “are you sure its good and you don’t just really like him?“.  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Why would you want to talk about these things with your daughter? Why would you want to ask those questions?

She used to take me to clubs with her before I was 18.  She would try to send me off with men and she would just LOVE it when men would comment that we looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. VOM.

My mother would effectively pimp me out to men in their 40’s when I wasn’t even legally an adult. I ask myself as I write this today, WHY? What did she get from that?

This weekend I am finally seeing the extent of how truly sick she is. In this moment right now, I LAUGH in the face of any guilt I have felt about her feelings over this fall out. She can fuck off out of my life forever.