I’d like to believe that everyone has thoughts that come and go. The thoughts that flow freely within our mind throughout the day and night, that we can’t seem to control. The out of this world, and “why would you think that?” kind of thoughts. The devil is trying to get in thoughts. We have no control over what enters our consciousness, or subconsciousness. Sure, we can try to monitor them by forcing ourselves to concentrate on one thing until it consumes us and that is all we think about. We can also try and stop a thought from continuing to take control, by ignoring it, or thinking of something else. But the nasty ones always sneak in when you least expect it. They catch you off guard because they happen when you seem to be least prepared for it. You feel like a grotesque monster for allowing such a thought, and then it continues to enter your mind whenever it feels like it from there on in. You opened the door and now it won’t stop visiting you.
You are not crazy. You are not a monster. They happen to EVERYONE.
Some may have them more frequently because of trauma, lack of sleep, vitamin deficiency, depression, anxiety, and yes, some are caused by mental illness. But the majority of them just come and go freely and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Last night I silently wished my mother was dead. My mother is 83 years old and in good health for her age. I have this thing about her getting older, and think about what will happen, and how will she die? I have always hoped that she wouldn’t suffer in a nursing home, or hospital bed. That she will just quietly pass in the night during her sleep. Stress free, with no drama. No pain or mental anguish. Just a silent blessing.
I have had a long tormented relationship with my mother. But, so has my sister and my brother. It just isn’t just me picking it out of the air to get attention. I have recently come to terms with it, and after 60 years have realized that I will never have a nurturing, loving, trusting, kind, maternal bond with my mother. I have tried everything from just eating crow and doing it anyway, to just telling myself that she’s old and won’t live much longer, so suck it up. I’m not talking about her unsolicited advice, that mothers freely give. That to me is normal. A mother, usually just wants what’s best for her children, so she will slip in some “guide lines” now and then. It comes with the job.
But, normally, the words of advice stem from love. Not my mother. Something gets twisted between her brain and mouth and they come out like a person possessed by Satan. Horrible shit that I wouldn’t even say to someone I dislike. It’s almost as if she has a secret missile that aims for the very thing that torments you, and she opens up that once “healed” wound and it starts to bleed all over again. She is ruthless and calculated. She knows exactly what she is saying and how she is presenting it. She has my whole life. This isn’t because she’s old and “fragile”. There is nothing fragile about this woman. You’d think she would slow down now that she has one foot in the grave. Nope…not that lucky! There is nothing sweet about this little old lady.
Anyway…I saw her at my local grocery store two nights ago. She was just wandering around with a cart, alone with her thoughts and quietly looking at everything on the shelves. Anyone else would have watched and thought this woman has her shit together. She seems healthy and has her mind in tact. Very approachable. So, what did I do? I turned around and went the other way as fast as I could to the self-checkout lane and got the hell out of there before she even saw me. Running scared like the little girl I used to be.
WTF…I will be 60 yrs old next Spring and I am still running away from her. I have raised three wonderful men, and have four beautiful grandchildren I can’t wait to be with anytime I can, but just seeing that woman in public, prevents me from doing anything else but getting the hell out of there. I will walk right by people that I have told off in the past, without hesitation. I will look them right in the eye and stand my ground. But not her. I don’t want to listen to anything she has to say. I don’t even want to get sucked into her manipulative false kindness she will most definitely use to get me to trust her again. The love bombing and gushing that comes before the storm of violence and destruction. She is the epitome of the word NARCISSIST. Covert narcissist when she hides it from her church going friends, but overt narcissist when she shows up in public to loudly tell you off and belittle you so that everyone around listening sees her as the wounded victim. It is the scariest thing that you will ever see. The hatred and anger that can come out of a 5’2″ woman’s mouth is unfathomable. She is ruthless.
I have spent my entire life fearing this woman’s wrath. I can remember more than one family reunion, or holiday blown up by her unleashing all the sins against her, over the Thanksgiving Day table. Horrible things just thrown out there for everyone to hear. Even young children. Things that I will never forget. I like to compare my holidays with extended family to the scene in the movie August: Osage County. The one where they are all gathered around after the funeral service and you can feel the tension through the screen. That movie was my life! I can barely watch it again after the realization of what it reminds me of. Very triggering.
Back to the point I’m trying to make here. The guilt that comes from silently wishing your mother would just die of natural causes, opens up a whole other subject. What kind of monster would wish her mother dead? The kind of monster that has been finally pushed over the edge. The kind that just wants peace in her life without hiding from the chaos lurking around every corner. The kind of peace that she knows will never come as long as this woman is still walking the earth. I have gone from low contact, to no contact in the last 3 years. It is hard when she lives in the same small town. The town you wanted to leave several years ago, but couldn’t because she was too “lonely and miserable” and no one else would take care of her. Yeah, that was me. She needed someone in her life to call whenever she felt bad and needed someone to talk to. Someone who would invite her to every family gathering just so she could explode on everyone and tell them they are all burning in hell with her fire and brimstone homilies that spewed over the holiday feast. Just like the movie.
I have since forgave her for my disastrous childhood and fucked up memories. I have forgiven her for all of the horrible things she said to me in the last 60 years. I can’t forget them, but I have come to terms with the fact that she is mentally ill. Or, is she? She has always been on mood altering drugs since I can remember. She has read every psyche book and article ever written. She has been to numerous psychologists and even psychiatrists. She has endured shock treatments, and is still in weekly therapy of some kind, but is she mentally ill? I have come to the conclusion that I don’t think she is. I honestly don’t think that a person can go through all of these steps taken, throughout her whole damn life, and have absolutely no change ever. Nothing.
I have forgiven her and have told myself I am done putting myself through the same damn thing every time. I am not arguing, or defending myself against an 83 year old woman. I am done. She will never morph into the woman I have always wanted her to be. I will no longer be caught in her web of comparison, jealousy, lies, fear, or guilt, too paralyzed to move, until she finds the need to suck the remaining life right out of me. All that is left is a shell of the person you hoped to become, and too exhausted to try again. I know I sound dramatic, but that is exactly what I compare it to. A spider preying upon a helpless victim caught in their web.
I will no longer allow her to prey upon me. I will not endure anymore irreversible damage, that I feel the need to spend years, and years to fix within myself, to heal in order to be whole again. Will I feel sadness when she is gone? Yes. But not from missing her. I will mourn losing all those fantasies at her being my best friend. My confidant. The person I could tell anything to. The unconditional love that I never received. The ending to the story that started so many years ago. But the question “why would a God that loves me allow this to endure for as long as it has?” will never go away. My whole life was spent fighting for my mental health. My whole life defending myself and my adult decisions. What will I do next? I’m not sure. But I find myself fantasizing about it. Will I finally be able to exhale and relax my shoulders? Will the wave of relief be noticeable to others around me? Will I look too ecstatic and overly excited about it? What will people say and think? I really don’t give a fuck at this point. I earned my feelings.
When intrusive thoughts happen, maybe stop and take a look at why they are happening. What is going on in your life right now? What are you consumed with these days? I see them as a warning that something isn’t what it should be. There is an imbalance somewhere that needs attention before it gets out of control. Listen to your body. It is there to keep you alive and well. WELL. We are not meant to be tired, sad, sluggish, confused, and afraid to move. We were built to survive. We are meant to thrive. We are the most perfectly constructed piece of machinery that ever existed. We have the ability to mend whatever is broken. We have the ability to heal. Don’t let your mind get the best of you. Whatever the mind thinks, the body will surely follow.
I will not judge anyone for their thoughts they cannot control. But, I will judge them for their body taking action on these thoughts. Be your own hero. Heed the warning signs and do something about it. It is your choice on how you perceive what is happening. Just because someone gave birth to you, or raised you, does not give them the right to destroy you. Stand up for yourself and walk away. Your life may depend on it.
Today I wished my mother was dead. And I have to live with that.
The Musings Of An Angry Woman 