Therapy Journal: entry one - Life without Mom
I started therapy in July of 2022. It hasn't been easy. I have two mental help professionals: Simon, my Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner who is in charge of dealing with my officially diagnosed ADD, and Nathalia, my BCT therapist. Nathalia suggested journaling as a means to help me process what's going on in my head, but of course, said head has been spinning, not able to settle on a single topic.
Last night, she gave me one. What does life look like....without the influence of my mother in it.
Would it really look much different than it does now? I've been almost no contact with her since January of 2019. The last time I spoke with her was Christmastime of 2020. I made it clear that I am no longer accepting the way she treats me, like a trophy or an extension of whatever vision she had of what she thought 'children' would be to fulfill her status. It is not my "job" to support her financially or "give" her milestones like weddings or grandchildren.
She is inching closer to 78 years old. We don't have a 'mother/daughter' relationship. We don't have a relationship at all. I would have (and DO have) a better relationship with a total stranger than I have with the woman who birthed me. Maybe the reason I feel the way I do is because I am mourning the connection I feel I should have with my mother.
If she called tomorrow and told me she was sick and needed me to come and help her, I would probably hang up the phone after telling her to call one of here sisters and leave me alone. I would have less guilt once she passes away, maybe. I don't know at this point if I even love my mother. I know I do not like her. She's a vile human being, hiding behind her so called 'faith' to pass judgement on people, on family members who do not fit in her idea of 'good'. In judgement of me. I cringe every time she says 'Happy Jesus Christ's Birthday!' instead of 'Merry Christmas'. Everything with her is transactional and her love, such as it is, is clearly conditional. Unless I meet her standard of what is 'acceptable' and follow her instructions only, I am a terrible person.
I know I feel guilty at not being able to keep the promise my dad asked for the last night he spent at home, that I at least try to get along and to take care of her. He's been gone for thirty-seven years. Surely, the promise made when I was barely 16 should be fulfilled at this point, right?
The reality of it is, as it stand now, my life will change very little when she is gone, because she is not a part of my life NOW. I'll be more sad for some of those who will miss her, but for my part, why should I give thought to the dead when as a living person, I don't matter to her? How can I miss something I already do not have? I'm already an orphan, aren't I? The parental figures I had died when I was 14 and 16 respectively, my grandmother and my dad. The other people who act in that stead, as close as they can, are my uncle Vernon and Aunt Tal, my Uncle Bassyl and Aunt Elith. I would call either of them for help or advice before I would my own mother. I would call a fair number of people for advice and comfort before my own mother.
That should be the answer to that question. I don't want it to be, but it is.
Last night, she gave me one. What does life look like....without the influence of my mother in it.
Would it really look much different than it does now? I've been almost no contact with her since January of 2019. The last time I spoke with her was Christmastime of 2020. I made it clear that I am no longer accepting the way she treats me, like a trophy or an extension of whatever vision she had of what she thought 'children' would be to fulfill her status. It is not my "job" to support her financially or "give" her milestones like weddings or grandchildren.
She is inching closer to 78 years old. We don't have a 'mother/daughter' relationship. We don't have a relationship at all. I would have (and DO have) a better relationship with a total stranger than I have with the woman who birthed me. Maybe the reason I feel the way I do is because I am mourning the connection I feel I should have with my mother.
If she called tomorrow and told me she was sick and needed me to come and help her, I would probably hang up the phone after telling her to call one of here sisters and leave me alone. I would have less guilt once she passes away, maybe. I don't know at this point if I even love my mother. I know I do not like her. She's a vile human being, hiding behind her so called 'faith' to pass judgement on people, on family members who do not fit in her idea of 'good'. In judgement of me. I cringe every time she says 'Happy Jesus Christ's Birthday!' instead of 'Merry Christmas'. Everything with her is transactional and her love, such as it is, is clearly conditional. Unless I meet her standard of what is 'acceptable' and follow her instructions only, I am a terrible person.
I know I feel guilty at not being able to keep the promise my dad asked for the last night he spent at home, that I at least try to get along and to take care of her. He's been gone for thirty-seven years. Surely, the promise made when I was barely 16 should be fulfilled at this point, right?
The reality of it is, as it stand now, my life will change very little when she is gone, because she is not a part of my life NOW. I'll be more sad for some of those who will miss her, but for my part, why should I give thought to the dead when as a living person, I don't matter to her? How can I miss something I already do not have? I'm already an orphan, aren't I? The parental figures I had died when I was 14 and 16 respectively, my grandmother and my dad. The other people who act in that stead, as close as they can, are my uncle Vernon and Aunt Tal, my Uncle Bassyl and Aunt Elith. I would call either of them for help or advice before I would my own mother. I would call a fair number of people for advice and comfort before my own mother.
That should be the answer to that question. I don't want it to be, but it is.