Miswired Circuits/Things That Spark

[Armee]

Hi Bach. I'm sorry. It's terrible. I also had to grapple with the same realization that I simply do not matter to my mom other than as supply for her bottomless needs. But I myself did not actually matter at all, or her grandchildren. It's really painful. I feel for you. It's wrong that this is how it is. People who don't know parents like this will want to tell you no she really does love you! She just doesn't know how to show it!

I recall that when I fiinally had that realization that I did not matter to her at all, that she did not care how she hurt me, that was when my anger came pouring out and i just  couldn't anymore. I became mean and calloused toward her. It felt really bad until the end.

Once she died, which was maybe 3 years after I had that realization...once she died it stopped mattering that I didn't matter. It was done. She had proven who she was. She was not capable of changing not even on death's bed. Once that hope for something different died it stopped hurting. I imagine people who go no contact may have the same relief eventually. I think what causes the suffering (?) is our hope that maybe something will change, or maybe if we just do something differently it will change.

So perhaps truly truly accepting that this is the truth, and that she isn't going to change, and there's nothing you did to cause that and there's nothing you can do to fix it, maybe that's the path to relief?



You deserve better. You deserved better. I'm sorry.

[Papa Coco]

Bach

I know the sting of realizing I never mattered to a parent. It's a pain that has its own category. A lifetime of believing they cared, and would one day apologize for all they'd done to me, is not something I can walk away from quickly. It eats at me all the time. The more I learn about the science of narcissism, and all the anti-social disorders, the more I'm able to shed the ties that bind me to that old belief that I mattered. The more I realize how sick these anti-social people are, the more I can accept the chill that they gave me instead of love. The more I study them, the more I see this is their mental illness, not mine.

But I'm not tied to my parents/siblings with a single chain that can be unlocked with one key. It's more like I'm tied to my bad family with a thousand small strings. Each time I address how they treated me, I untie one more of those strings. I get "a little bit" farther from their abuse with each string I cut. It helps me to talk with others who have the same strings to cut. Once again, our inability to fully accept that we were not loved, is more proof that we are loving, good, heart-felt people who DO understand that all humans are connected. The fact that it's so difficult for us to realize that our own family doesn't understand that we're all connected, is what proves we know the truth. And if you ever study the true heroes of history, such as Buddha, Jesus, Mother Teresa, Ghandhi, etc, the more we see that they came from miserable situations too, but rather than becoming narcissistic bullies themselves, chose to become loving heroes. I'm no Ghandhi, but I, like you, have chosen the higher path, and we give our love to those who deserve it.

It's easy to be a bully. It's mature to be the one who stops the bullying before lazily, selfishly passing our pain on to others.

I'm sorry you had to go through what you've been through with your M. It's against nature for a parent to not love their child. There's something seriously wrong with parents who do this to their children.

[NarcKiddo]

Hello, Bach.

I have just read all of your posts in this thread. I have not had time to read all the replies. But I came to the end of the thread first and your posts resonated with me so I went back to the beginning and what you wrote just resonated more and more and more. I hear all that you say and I have direct personal experience of several things similar to what you describe. It is so very tough to deal with.

You say "I understand and accept this. So now how do I make it not hurt me?" I wish I knew. My guess is that it is the inner child hurting.

[Moondance]

 

Hi Bach,

Quite the realization.

I send safe  if okay

[Bach]

rainy, thank you for your thoughts and understanding

san, I've heard this before, that I need to grieve, and have not been able to come to very much understanding of "grieving" other than as a sort of intellectual concept and as something that happens to you rather than as something you can consciously choose to do.  I have at times tried to figure out "how to grieve" and not had much succcess.  However, after I wrote this entry the other day, I had a brief moment, literally only maybe a second, in which I felt a TREMENDOUS wave of grief, deep grief, an actual tangible feeling.  In that one second or so, I thought I was going to cry, but then the whole feeling vanished and I had a yawning fit instead.  Strange and not immediately helpful, but at least now I sort of know what it feels like? 

Armee, I think what hurts the most for me with all this right now is that my mother isn't even particularly interested in getting supply from me.  I suppose I'm better than nothing now that her husband and many of her friends are dead, but honestly, I think she barely even remembers I exist until either I text her or she sees something I post to my Facebook wall.  With my conscious mind, I fully accept those truths you speak of, but clearly some deeper part of just isn't there yet.  I really hope that I can figure that out on my own and don't have to wait for her to die for relief  from that pain, though, because she's obscenely robust and could live for a long time yet.  I worry sometimes that she will actually outlive me and I will never know a world without her malignant presence.

Papa Coco, I never had children because I was too afraid.  I wish that I could have had children, but the risk was too great that I would simply pass the dysfunction on to another generation.  So I console myself with the knowledge that at least it stopped with me.  As painful as it is, I understand that the most loving thing I could possibly do for my children was not have them.

NarcKiddo, I very much appreciate you reading my posts.  They are challenging for me to write, and most of the time I don't even want to write them, but I know I have to face this stuff and I can't do it without witnesses.  Thank you for your empathy. ( ?)

Moondance 

I've got so much to write about.  Maybe tomorrow.

[Not Alone]

Bach, I'm sorry. 

[CactusFlower]

Gentle hugs if you want them, bach.  We're here with you.

[Moondance]

 

Thinking of you Bach

[Bach]

Not Alone, CactusFlower, Moondance, I just realised that each of your names evokes its own comforting image.  I appreciate each of you so very much 

So today what's sparking is not any of the things that I was (am) going to write about "maybe tomorrow", but a left hook out of a casual conversation.  I had one of those moments today when I think I'm telling a cute funny story about myself as a child, when suddenly I realise that what I'm doing is illustrating my gaping, flaming trauma wounds.  That happened today in a text chat.  The person I was talking to almost surely would have taken it as a cute funny story, but when I realised that the whole thing was screaming 'WOW WHAT'S HER DAMAGE?" I had to erase it instead of hitting Send. 

[rainydiary]

Bach, I find it so difficult to speak about myself as a child...or about myself generally because of feeling like I am speaking from wounds.  I hope the feeling that brought up eases soon.

[Moondance]

I most always feel like a walking wound, where everyone can see each and every one of the wounds.  Your post resonates with me.

[NarcKiddo]

That's really interesting. I'm sorry you had to deal with it, of course, and hope you are feeling a bit better now. But it's made me think about stories I might tell about myself as a child. Actually, I can't remember telling any. Which is no great surprise as my memories are limited until age 6 and then the stories I remember have always made me feel pretty bad so I don't tell them apart from one that can be made to appear funny.

I've started wondering now about stories my parents might tell about me, though, and how that feels. My father comes up with a couple of memories (always the same ones) from time to time. I might think about that and journal it. Thank you for the idea.

[sanmagic7]

 

[Bach]

Thank you for the kind replies, friends 

NarcKiddo, my mother has three stories she tells to “prove” that she loves me, paid attention to me and had good experiences with being my mother. Two of them are from before I was 5 years old. The third I was a little older and it’s the tiniest most insignificant thing.  She has many, many more stories she tells again and again about “when you were a child, B” that either don’t actually involve me at all or that imply a negative light on me. Lovely.

This feeling of realising that I’m a mentally ill child and will always be a mentally ill child.

[sanmagic7]

bach, those kinds of realizations can be brutal.  with you on that - i can think of several major memories that proved abusively traumatic and they triggered and haunted me well into adulthood.  as far a s being a mentally ill child, i wish i could do more than send a big hug  to wrap up little bach, that sweet precious little bach, and protect her from the damage she's experienced.  love and hugs, dear bach