What it's like to grieve an abuser Part II

I'm going to expand on my previous post about grieving an abusive parent. I started the book "Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss" just a few months after my mother passed away. (You can read about how I happened to land upon that here), but due to being in my last trimester of pregnancy, dealing with some behavior issues in our first born, and then HAVING our second child and the whirlwind that is parenting, I had to put it away for a while. I wasn't neglecting my grief, I just couldn't delve into the book at the time, in spite of it's helpfulness.

It has been almost a year since my mother passed away. I was in a funk last week and I couldn't figure out why and then all of a sudden it occurred to me....'ohhhhh yeah....this was the time." And I began to wonder, have I even processed that? I know it's time to deal with something when it replays or comes forward with a rush of emotion. I'm not sure I even know how to put it in words. I have to resist the urge to want to shove that in a mental box, never to be opened again.

When it came time to say goodbye, I was terrified...I mean, I haven't seen this woman in years, and for good reason.  She finally conceded to let me have my husband with me and I knew it was time. She had, up until then, refused to let me have him present because SHE was afraid of HIM. He had only ever protected me, and she was the one I needed protection from. I didn't know if she would use those final moments to be awful, or if somehow God would restrain her- so I wanted my husband there.  I had a group of friends praying about the whole thing and surprisingly, all I felt was peace once I got there. But, it was so hard. I cried immediately when I saw her. She was just a fragment of what she once was. She was rail thin, emaciated. Her skin was gaunt, and her eyes sunken in. She had tubes everywhere. Her intestines were greatly affected both by the cancer but also from the chemotherapy. She couldn't eat because she couldn't digest anything. She would take a sip of water and seconds later, it would come pouring out of a tube that protruded from her stomach. I am a nurse, so this largely didn't scare me. But...truly, her death was terrible. It broke my heart to see how greatly she suffered in the end. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. She alternated between lucid and incoherent. At times it felt like I was talking to a child, and others she was present and even made some sense. She would babble on about what items in the house she wanted us to have, and then burst into tears at the thought that she was leaving. She wanted to do it all over again. She wanted to go back and be the mom that we needed. All I could do was nod to that. I didn't try to make her feel better about her choices or belittle our experiences with her. I just simply nodded.  At my response, she quickly said "well, I did the best I could. I was so broken." Her mental illness again running the show. To me, seeing her in that state was like seeing a very physical representation of her state of mind. Her mind was, too, ravaged by disease- just a different disease. I reassured her that I had forgiven her, she was not in my debt. I wanted her to know that when it was time to go, she could go in peace knowing that I held nothing against her. She nodded, tears filling her eyes.

I've been trying to figure out why it took me so long to grieve. I don't judge myself for this, it is what it is. I think a majority of it is because while she was living, whenever I felt the pangs of not having a mother figure, my not having a mother was a much better option than having a mother like her. I couldn't really look beyond that. I realize what I'm grieving now is what I had always wanted and needed.  What I had always hoped I would get from her or that our relationship could be. In many ways, what I'm feeling now, the absence, mirrors how I felt all growing up: She was physically there, but emotionally absent. Her emotional absence was preferred to the constant boundary violations or her abusive presence, but both left me without the mother that I always wanted and needed. I couldn't acknowledge that longing deep inside or that feeling of emptiness or absence that I had been carrying for a very long time. I feel it when parenting is hard and I really wish I had someone to call and get advice from. When I'm trying to make a decision and just need a listening ear, I feel the absence. When my daughters do something amazing and hilarious or absolutely terrifying and maddening, I feel the absence. The longing. Its incredibly weird to be in my very early thirties and have no parents. To feel like you still need their support at times, or guidance and there is no one there. It's very hard.

I am incredibly grateful for the friends that I call family. Those who have stepped in and and filled in the gaps. It has made all the difference in the world to me.

Dismantling Shame

I want to talk about some past experiences that I have learned from, and gained insight into as the years have passed by. A few years ago, I was on the receiving end of a very bitter dissolving of a friendship. I had reached out to a friend after the passing of my mother, and decided to be vulnerable and let her know what my needs were. This was a HUGE step for me in my healing process, and something I would have never done before. I knew that she could say no, and I made my peace with that. I was prepared for her to not be able to be there for me. What I did not expect however, was to be told that I wasn't allowed to have needs, and that my needs were inappropriate and wrong, and that I was only to take those deep things to Jesus. Now- there is a God sized hole that we all have in our lives, and there are certain areas that only he can feel. But we cannot deny the need for community and relationship- we were designed for it. And in many regards, we only heal from past relationship disasters through healthy relationship interactions.

Now, a healthy person may be on the receiving end of this and say "well...that is a load of poop! I don't believe a word you say!" That was not my reaction, however.

You may be wondering as the reader, why did it stick? Why did I believe it? Shouldn't I, a grown adult woman, know what is true of myself? Well, not necessarily. For starters, I was raised in an environment where my intuition, my feelings and perceptions were constantly in question. I was rarely validated, and thus I never learned the importance of validating myself. As I've said in many previous posts, my mother suffered from Borderline personality disorder. It was pervasive and permeated every corner of her life, and subsequently our lives. I was wired for dysfunction, to put it lightly. I tend to feel that I am responsible for the reactions and responses of others, because that's how I was raised. It was my fault if my mother flew into a rage. It was my fault if she was sad, or distressed or just didn't want to be a mom that day. As I got older, and TRIED to individuate and differentiate,  as children are meant to do, my every move, and intention was questioned if it did not suit her needs. This made me feel crazy. I was told, on a regular basis, how I ought to feel, that my feelings were not normal, that I was crazy and incapable of making decisions, etc. These were all projections, but I believed for the majority of my life that there was something was profoundly wrong with me on a very basic level. I was raised to believe I was incapable of handling life. 

Fast forward, and what do you get? I was terribly anxious about making decisions...even little decisions, like where to go to eat. I would look around at the reactions and responses of others who would be affected by my decision.  God seemed to strategically put people in my life who would challenge this and force me to make decisions, and I'm grateful he did! I believed the lie that I couldn't handle the outcome of my choices  and thus would just sit like a paralyzed goat, unable to move or think. 

In healthy relationships, this wouldn't  be a problem because I would be surrounded by people who believed in me more than I believed in myself and thus "called out the gold", so to speak. I began to slowly believe that I was capable of making decisions, and thus my anxiety diminished. I began to create a new history of making good decisions and being able to handle it if I made a poor one. The same has been true for trusting my perceptions. When you are raised in an environment where you are made to feel crazy for how you feel, think and process, when you are told that certain traumatizing events never happened and that you just made it up, you find it nearly impossible to trust your own perceptions and intuition, which is our  God-given gps system.  Again in healthy relationship, this wouldn't be a problem because I was surrounded by people who worked as hard to understand me as I did them. There was mutual respect and a desire to grow and be the best humans we can be. 

What happens when this is challenged? When you are told that your perceptions are wrong, your feelings are invalid, and therefore you don't deserve to be in relationship because you are somehow so terribly flawed? If there is a giant crack in your foundation, as I had in mine, you will feel profound shame, and perhaps even self hatred.  I believed the lie that on a very basic level, I was flawed and therefore unfit for relationship. That I didn't deserve kindness, comfort or nurturing. My big question at that time is "why do I believe this lie"? It had to come from somewhere. And sure enough...it did. Not just one time, but many times through the course of my life. I had been kicked out, for lack of a better term, and deemed unfit. Not worth fighting for. Easily discarded. It's no wonder I believed that I deserved the treatment from this friend at a time when I genuinely needed someone. 

I began to look at my shame and decided I didn't want it there anymore. I was kicking it out- no matter how long it took me. I began the slow and grueling process of dismantling shame. This is not an easy task, and for me required me to look at my past and get healing from some hurts that I was unknowingly carrying around. I believed the lie that if I showed all of myself, even my flawed parts, that I would be rejected. And I was- by humans. But I have never been rejected by God. And through this, I have found pieces of my identity that were hiding underneath my fear.  The fear of losing that caused me conform or become a chameleon. I see some areas where I began to hide my true self out of fear of being rejected or misunderstood. Times where I was teetering on the edge of allowing myself to be controlled for another persons comfort. Don't get me wrong- there is nothing worse than betrayal or rejection. It HURTS. It has been one of the most painful experiences of my life, but I also see some strength emerging that was not there before. I am no longer willing to NOT be fully myself. Brene Brown talks a lot about this in her book "I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't!)". You cannot have courage without vulnerability, and I am not willing to pretend to be perfect in order to avoid rejection. I am not willing to be less of myself in order to make others happy or comfortable. 

So, how do we heal? How do we face our insecurities and fears and not hide from the world when that seems like the easiest solution? 

For starters, throughout this whole ordeal of losing one of my closest friends during a time of need, God has been faithfully speaking and ministering to me through dreams and scripture. I would often wake up with a verse floating through my mind. I have learned to plant myself there and craft prayers out of those verses. I would stay there until he dropped another thought or dream into my head. As Graham Cooke says "I'm going to get a lot of mileage out of this problem." I became determined to heal. To not walk around with this undercurrent of fear and shame. I have learned the value of process. That God isn't asking us to be stoic or perfect. I think the Psalms  are a perfect indication that we are permitted to process. That it is necessary! To cry out to God in our distress, lack, misery and as we turn ourselves to him, He heals and restores, and shows us more of himself. I will be honest and say that at times it has felt like what he has given me has not been enough. 

One thing that I have been SEVERELY challenged by is that God often gives me a word that is in direct opposition of how I feel. For example, the day after "the incident", I woke up to Psalm 63 floating in my mind, specifically the verse that talks about being satisfied with marrow and fatness. I thought "ha! yeah right...all I feel right now is loss and lack and absence and I'm afraid it might just consume me."  So I have learned, however begrudgingly, to follow His lead and even if all I can do is whisper the promise- I do. I declare it. I WILL be satisfied. I WILL lack no Good thing. It may not be today- but always eventually.

I would HIGHLY encourage you to buy or rent from the library Brene Brown's books...any of them. They are pure gold! 

What it's like to grieve an abuser

Life is complicated. Beautiful and hard and complicated.

I somehow naively thought I would escape the pain of grieving my BPD (Borderline Personality Disordered) mom. I feel really silly saying that, but it's true. I thought after all I had been through with her, there was NO way I would feel sad that she was gone. This is what makes grieving the death of an abusive parent so difficult. On the one hand, there is tremendous relief knowing they can no longer harass you, talk badly about you behind your back, turn others against you or make you pay for refusing to enable them. That is the sad reality. I am not losing something good or healthy.

What does grief look like? Well, I think for starters, grief is different for everyone and its important to keep that in mind. What it looks like for one may not be the same for another. I think that is something that our culture really lacks. We lack knowing how to grieve and knowing how to be there for others in a time of loss. There is no real ceremony, aside from a funeral/wake, no change of dress to demonstrate where you are in your grief process, and often times the one grieving is told to hurry up and get on with their process. It can be terribly invalidating and damaging to say that to someone. We need to honor both the individuals style of grief as well as the person they have lost.

I hit a rough grief patch a few months ago. I was really reeling from it. I was SO TIRED of losing things and grieving things that I found myself resisting the process. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was facing some self judgement about what i should and should not feel. On top of that, I had just had a very close friend tell me that I should be over it. That I shouldn't reach out for comfort for friends because that's not what friends are for. A big old pile of poo if you ask me, but nonetheless, it left me confused and hurt.

God is so unbelievably kind and faithful. He never fails me. My husband and I were at a Habitat for Humanity resale store and a bookshelf caught my eye. I thought there would be some home owners books or project books but one book in particular stood out. It was called "Motherless Daughters." I couldn't believe my eyes. How did this end up here, of all places? Needless to say- even though I had been terribly invalidated by a friend, I had NOT been invalidated by God. He knew exactly what I needed.

I wept through the entire first chapter. The woman who wrote the book lost her mother when she was 17, and subsequently went on in her adult years to study how the loss of a mother affects daughters in particular. She was THOROUGH. She studied what affects happened at what age, and how to progress through developmental challenges that inevitably come up when there is no mother to guide that development. She talked about how having a mentally ill parent means that we often grieve them at every stage where they were not emotionally available to meet our needs, from the past all the way into the future. Wow. That answered so many questions I didn't even know I had. All of this uncertainty about being a mother to a second child without a mother of my own started to make complete sense.

Developmentally speaking, children grow and learn to differentiate and individuate by having a caregiver to look back to on a regular basis AS they take steps in development. For example, a toddler learning to walk wants to go explore, but is anxious about the task and needs a caregiver to look back to for reassurance and comfort as they go forth. The same is true but in different ways at every developmental milestone all the way into adulthood- the looking back for a caregiver for reassurance and comfort. It's how we as humans learn to attach, detach and become confident in our own abilities.

So much of my past has been grieved and healed. But there are times where it hits me like a wave as I'm parenting my own daughter. I recognize that for so much of my childhood, my mother was not emotionally present. There are so many things I get to do with my daughter that I have no recollection of doing with my mom. I have almost no memories of closeness or comfort. Hearing her laugh was so infrequent that it would often catch me off guard as a child and cause me to cry. That was the mom I wanted around but so rarely got to see and experience.

What I grieve now is not the mother that I had, because she was buried under the rubble of her own life's mess and mental illness. What I grieve is the mother I always wanted. Not having a mother at all to celebrate birthdays and babies and life changes with. I grieve that the relationship never got better because she never got better.

So, for anyone grieving ANYTHING, know that it's entirely appropriate and acceptable to reach out and talk about your process. Or just ask someone to sit with you while you cry. I have found that few people are really capable of that, and if you have no close friends or family to do that with, find a good counselor who will just be present with you while you process. I PROMISE...you will be so much the better for it.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5  "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 5 For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ."

Thankfulness

Well, It's been a while since Ive posted. Theres been a lot going on and I'm still kind of in a whirlwind.

I wrote in my last blog post that I was not going to see my mother before she died. Given that she was still adamant on not meeting me in a way that felt safe to me, I thought "what's the point?" I really did not want to go if it was going to turn our like every other interaction had been.

I'm not entirely sure what happened, but she woke up one day out of her stupor and asked where I was. My grandma said "what do you mean?" My mom explained that she had thought she was talking to me and had I stopped by? My grandma said "no... M.E., why won't you just agree to meet with her on her terms?" And my mom said "well, fine." It must have occurred to her suddenly that this was the way she was going to leave the world- loose ends.

So, we got a call one evening that she had a agreed to see me with just my husband present. At first I was really upset. Why did she wait until the last minute? So I took my time processing that, but eventually realized I needed to go. I was anxious, of course...this was my abuser after all. Not exactly looking forward to the visit. But there were a lot of people praying and when the time came to go, I felt covered.

When I walked in, I started crying immediately. Not big sobs, just weeping. She started crying as well. She was kind. She asked us about our lives and what we had been up to. She made mention that she didn't know why we had drifted apart or what she had done, but that she was sorry. I didn't take the opportunity to discuss further, just acknowledged that I had already forgiven her and it wasn't something that needed discussion. She told me she was sorry that she wasn't there for me for the loss of my babies- that she should have been there for me. That was really hard for me to hear because I SO needed a mom during all of that.

It was very hard to see her in that state. A shriveled up version of herself. Skin and bones. She still had her nails painted nicely- appearance was always something that was very important to her.

It was a very surreal interaction. On one hand, I was very aware that this is the person who abused and bullied me for years- even recently. I was aware that I was interacting with a Borderline, and I could easily spot the borderline behaviors- yet, I was not triggered. She was on her best behavior and for that I am very grateful. Who knows how long it would have taken me to recover from that. We left after an hour because we had to pick up our daughter and get her to bed. I left feeling grateful for the interaction, knowing that I had been completely covered. That God had somehow taken over and she was not . It felt like a "supervised" visit, if you will. She was on er best behavior.

We visited two more times after that, and brought  our daughter to see her was when she was 18 months old. DD was excited to meet her and my mom just soaked it up. My mom did bring up some " off limit topics" but I manouvered around them. After that I felt like that was more than enough goodbyes for me and we didn't go back. It wasn't long after that that she passed away.

The funeral was...interesting. It was strange having people speak of her as such a wonderful person, when I had experienced much of the opposite. My mom wasnt all bad, of course she did good and nice things too. Of course, I didn't expect people to speak badly of her at her own funeral. It was odd to hear my sister give a eulogy basically saying that she likes how much she is like our mother. One of my brothers, as well as my brother in law avoided my husband and I like the plague- which I anticipated. It was ...interesting.

I have struggled throughout these last few months to keep perspective. Knowing and anticipating dealing with my FOO (Family of Origin) was less than appealing, and on a bad day, fairly anxiety inducing. I felt so tired in myself. No strength to muster. I was sorely lacking patience with my persistent family who fails to give me the space I so desire to grieve in the way that is appropriate for me. I can't count how many times I've wanted to say "I just want to be done dealing with them. They are obnoxious, mean, and unpleasant." This attitude really didn't help me persevere.  It didn't help that I was in the very early stages of pregnancy and just in general, had no extra energy for stuff like this.

So, what have I learned hindsight? There are certain things that are unavoidable. I was not afforded the luxury of leaning on my own strength because I had none left! Thankfulness in who God is changes the atmosphere from one of overwhelm to joyfully waiting for His provision. This is hard...I'm not gonna lie. It is very difficult to be thankful when you are dealing with things you very much dislike.

I also got to put into practice some of the skills I've been learning over the last two years- distress tolerance, accepting that other people will view me how they want to and it CAN have absolutely no affect on how I view or feel about myself. I can assert myself and be confident in my decisions even when others do not like those decisions. Not the most fun...let me tell you. But necessary.

Endings and Beginnings

I'ts been a few months since I've posted. There has been a lot going on and I just wasn't quite ready to put it all out in the open. I'm still not sure I'm ready, but here goes...

My BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) mother is dying. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer almost 2 years ago, and 2 months ago, they told her there was nothing else they could do. She refused hospice, which unfortunately for her meant many trips to the hospital to deal with bowel obstructions and pain.

I knew this day would come...I just wasn't prepared for how soon it would be. I've only been no-contact with her for under 2 years. Not a whole lot of time to process nearly 26 years of emotional abuse. But God does work miracles! I have somehow been enabled to make tremendous (and I mean TREMENDOUS) progress in a very short period of time. It has felt much like I imagine living in a pressure cooker would feel like: intense, hot, sweaty and painful. But the results? Nothing short of amazing.

When I found out that there was nothing more to be done, I knew I would be faced with the monumental decision of whether or not to go see her, and if not, I would be facing the very vocal opinions of my family. Stress and anxiety ensued. I hit a "hot" spot in my relationship with God because once again, I was faced with a very painful and difficult decision, and I was just TIRED of making hard decisions that I knew would cost me something. I knew neither option would be painless. I was angry because I felt like things just kept dying. That I would be locked in a season of continual grief and I was tired of it.

To be honest, I didn't want to see her. The thought of opening myself up to someone who has done such tremendous damage to my heart and mind over the years didn't make me fearful, it made me feel ill. I value the work I've done and the progress I've made, yet, I wanted to honor her. I wanted to be open to the opportunity for some sort of closure should that be something she was looking for. I, however, did not feel like I needed that. I made my peace a long time ago. I let her go and with every major step forward, I handed her over to God, and looked to him to be my source and provider. I stopped looking to her to put the pieces of my broken heart back together, and began letting God heal me. That is one example of forgiveness. So, in many ways for me, It was as if she had already died.

Nevertheless, I prayed...for months. I knew God already had the answer, but it is always about process with Him. There is always a fear to be conquered and a facet of His personality He wants to impart to us in difficulty. So I began looking for that. At some point, I stopped looking at the circumstance. I stopped looking at the pain. I stopped looking at what it would cost me and I refocused my attention on God. What did he want for this situation?

Well, there are some things that we know God always wants, because they fall in line with WHO He is, and He never changes. For example, I know it is his desire for there to be restoration, reconciliation and healing in relationships...always. Unfortunately, there are a lot of broken people in the world who are unwilling or unable to make strides towards that or to engage in any sort of healing process that would lead to that.  And in certain circumstances, God does release us from that- because He is good!  He is so good, that when we let those people go, He fills every single void. We are not left empty handed. So, I knew that God and my heart were aligned because we both desire reconciliation, and when it became clear that my mother's heart and mind were not in that place at all, I felt tremendously comforted by the fact that even though she couldn't or wouldn't give that to me, He still intended me to have that, and I could look to Him to meet that need.

One of the other things that I know God values in this situation is my heart. This has been really hard for me to get. After years of encounters with Gods love, it is still hard for me to fathom that in this situation, He is also invested in protecting my heart.

I then began pondering my responsibility here. Being parentified in a relationship does tremendous damage. I still have some messed up thinking when it comes to responsibilities because my mother constantly made us responsible for her state of mind- whether that be raging or depressed, manic or silently brooding. I had to take some time to process that and untangle false beliefs. What was I responsible for? I am responsible for honoring her. But how does one honor a parent who has made their life a nightmare? This is a really important question. I think it really varies from person to person and situation to situation. This is where we need to partner in our relationship with the Father in what that might look like given the dynamics of each individual relationship. Honor has always been of great importance to me, namely because God commands it, so I wanted to know what that looked like for this situation. I know that I honor my mother by living a Godly life- because that is something I am called to. I honor my mother by forgiving her and releasing her. I honor her by NOT continuing the pattern of abuse that was set up generations ago. I honor her by remembering the good things she did that have contributed to my health and wellness. I'm not exactly sure how we got the idea that to honor someone means that you do whatever they want, that is not what honor means. (For an EXCELLENT resource on honor and boundaries, see "Keep Your Love On" by Danny Lee Silk. http://www.amazon.com/Keep-Your-Love-Connection-Communication/dp/B00IIDMBM6/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1419919520&sr=8-3&keywords=Keep+your+love+on

For me, sending a letter letting her know that I was deeply saddened to hear about the inevitability of her death, and detailing various things she did that made me feel loved and special over the years was the best I could do. I sat on it for weeks, just editing. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted God's love to pour over hear heart and pull her in when she read it. After all- the end isn't just about making amends with significant people in our lives, it is about making peace with God. She needs his love more than ever to envelop her and that is my prayer. Reconciliation or not.

Mother's Day and my crazy family of origin

Mother's day brings a mixed bag of emotions for me. For those those who haven't been following me for long, I am currently not in relationship with my mother. I went no contact about a year ago, and I celebrate mother's day very differently than I did in years past. I used to try to ignore the dread that would fill my heart, mind and body as I would walk down the card aisle and try to find a card that fit. There is no card that says "Happy Mother's day...I love you because I'm called to." I would inevitably go for the blank card in which I would then think of things that I loved about my mother without having to say "Thanks for being the best mom in the world"...because that was something I still cannot say.

About 2 weeks ago, my grandmother (my mom's mom) began calling me daily. I haven't heard from her in months. I figured something was up and though I was filled with dread at having to talk to her on the phone, knowing she would likely try to guilt me into something I didn't want to do, I called her. My mother's cancer is back. She said she wanted to know how involved I wanted to be. Believe it or not, after all the work I've done to heal- I still have a very hard time being honest and saying what I think when it comes to these women in my family. They intimidate the poo out of me on most occasions. So, I did what I "should" do and told her I wouldn't mind updates. In case it hasn't become readily apparent, the women in my family seem to have some confusion when it comes to boundaries. I didn't want daily updates- I'm not in a relationship with my mother, and her health status is no different than it was a year ago other than that instead of her being cured, the cancer has come back, but the prognosis is the same. Instead of telling my grandma the truth in confidence knowing I can make sound and wise decisions- I cowered and told her "sure, you can update me" when really I should have asked her to update my husband so he could be the filter. Well, I was not blunt and I paid for it. She called me EVERY DAY for 2 weeks. Now, keep in mind, I was already under tremendous strain due to the pregnancy complications, and was feeling overwhelmed as it was. I did not have the energy or desire to be dealing with this woman again.

I let every call go to voicemail- because I knew if I told her I needed my husband to take her calls, she would ask why- and I was not about to tell the queen of the family gossip mill that I was pregnant- my family would have jumped on that wagon like a swarm of bees to honey. No thank you. This apparently pissed her off, even though I kindly texted her and let her know I had been receiving medical updates from my brother and was well informed- that she didn't need to worry about keeping me in the loop. After a week and half of dodging her calls-again, simply because I was emotionally worn out and exhausted from pregnancy, my husband called her. Neither of us were prepared for her response. I was in the other room when my husband made the call, and I could immediately hear that my grandma was not happy that it was him and not me calling. I could hear her yelling at him through the phone...from the other room..."I will NOT go through a third party to speak to MY granddaughter. I have done NOTHING to deserve this treatment." My husband was like "what are you talking about? My wife simply asked me to call you because she is in the middle of taking care of some very important health issues...this has nothing to do with anything you did or didn't do. She simply asked me to get the information from you." He then proceeded to ask her if she would give him the information so he could tell me. Her reply "no. she can call me when she is ready." Wow. I was stunned- although I really shouldn't have been. This is not at all outside of the norm of behavior in our family.

To say I'm had it with dealing with these crazy ladies is a vast understatement. I cannot describe the level of exhaustion I feel when it comes to dealing with them.  I then received a text message from one of my close friends. It was a screen shot of a message that my sister (who is not friends with her and has only met her once) sent to her. My sister was asking this friend if she had noticed any "strange behavior" in me or my husband over the last 6 months as she was very "concerned" that my husband had become controlling and was somehow making me do all these "crazy" things, as she had observed him to become controlling in the last 6 months. I believe in her mind, me standing up for myself and not putting up with their awful behavior is considered crazy. My whole family seems to think that my husband protecting me on certain issues means that he is feeding me lies and forcing opinions and making me step away from the family. They couldn't be farther from the truth!!! I just laughed and shook my head. Why? Well...I haven't spoken to my sister in over 6 months. She hasn't seen me or my husband in almost a year. So, how could she have observed abusive and controlling behavior on the part of my husband if she has seen neither of us in that 6 month period of time that she is claiming to have observed this??? Interesting isn't it...

I had two choices- I could ignore this and let her continue to believe she was getting away with talking to others behind my back and thinking I had no idea, or I could address it head on and attempt to put a stop to her shenanigans. I was not responding with any real sense of hope that she would internalize any of this and have a change of heart- I was doing this for me. After being silent and just taking the emotional beatings for years upon years, It is important for me to recognize the times when I can say something and it be beneficial only for me.  I decided on the latter. I messaged my sister and pointed out that indeed her message to my friend was vastly inappropriate because she was attempting to come across as caring and concerned, when in fact, she had left out numerous details in an attempt to lead my friend astray and make me look bad.  I pointed out that I thought it very strange that she claimed to have observed controlling behavior on the part of my husband in the last 6 months when she hadn't seen or spoken to either of us during that time. I also explained to her that my husband has not forced my hand or opinion in any matter. I have a mind of my own. I am of sound mind (how many times do I have to say it?!). I make my own decisions and my husband backs me up. I allow him to stand in and protect me when he feels the need to do that- which is both biblical and GOOD. I explained to her that she could think what she wanted of me and there was nothing I could do to change that, but that she was essentially calling good evil and evil good and that simply did not work for me because it was destroying any chance of a healthy relationship between us. I explained to her that if she wanted to stay and continue the family's way of "loving" and doing things, I would not stop her...but I had had it with her trying to drag me back into the pit that I have spent years trying to climb out of. I told her that I loved her- deeply, that I saw a better way for her in which she could be free and healthy and whole, but that the way she was doing things was, again, in no way healthy and I didn't see how there could be relationship between us when she continued to sabotage it with destructive behavior.

I do not want to come across as lacking compassion or empathy, both for my mom's illness and my other family members state of mind. I really don't know what I'm going to do in regards to my mother, other than that I will wait until I hear a word from the Lord. He has been beyond clear and adament that I stay put- I am not to have contact with her right now. Until I hear otherwise- even though I'm terrified of the backlash I will receive- I will stay put. In regards to my sister- I have a pretty strong sense as to what she is acting out of  and truthfully, it breaks my heart.  I want so desperately for her to be free. But there is something that I have learned the very painful and hard way and that is that sometimes our empathy is wasted on people who have no desire to to change or pursue life and wholeness. They are hell bent on destruction and are willing to take anyone and everyone down with them.  We can follow Jesus's example and ask for discernment as to the hard situations in which we are called to stay, and the equally as hard (if not more so) situations in which we are called to leave and pursue all that He has for us.

I'm feeling pretty worn out- with the miscarriage, and my family's crazy, unrelenting pursuit of me. I have actually considered entering the witness protection program, but apparently that's not something you can just walk in and sign up for...sigh...

Worth fighting for.

Since my last post, not a whole lot has changed. My mother is trying to paint a picture of me that is false to the people that I love and feel safe with. It is extremely hurtful, but unfortunately not the first time she has done this. Somehow- I manage to forget that she does these things until it happens again, and Im forced to remember the very nature of my mother. It is also not uncommon among Borderline's to use this campaign of denigration (read about it here http://thequeenandking.blogspot.com/2011/08/borderline-mother-and-gaslighting.html?m=1)  as a form of retaliation on the person whom she feels has abandoned her. If she can't get to me, than she will use others to get to me. And she will try to destroy relationships with those who are close to me in order to bring me down as well, either to harm me or to get me to come back to her. Even though I knew what my mother was doing in her latest email to my mother in law, and I knew she was wrong, it still hurt quite a bit that she is lying about me. She blatently lied to make me look bad, telling my MIL that I refuse to talk to my siblings and that she is "concerned" that I  am mentally unstable... because according to her, me setting clear blundaries and sticking to them, indicates my mental instability. First of all- I do speak to my siblings. I engage them in conversations about their lives.  I am genuinely interested in their daily lives. I do not, however, engage in triangulating conversations regarding my mother. and given the number of times my mother had received information from my siblings, I have chosen to be very careful what information I share with them.

At first, I felt helpless. I wanted to jump right back in the ring, defend myself and maybe theow a few punches. I felt angry, and I cried. My own mother is lying about me and exaggerating my past struggle with anxiety to paint a picture of mental instability. If I were to stand up and get in the ring with her and try to defend myself, she would only use that as evidence that I am mentally ill or unstable or emotionally explosive- as if showing strong emotion or setting clear boundaries indicates that? You see... borderlines are very good at making one look and feel crazy. they trap you into corners, and then mock you as you stand defenseless. You cannot win with a borderline, so the only way to "win" is to stay out of the game. My husband hates this. He wants me to jump in and knock her out. And as much as sometimes I would love to do that, I know that it will do no good.

I didn't know what to do with this new information. My own mother. Flesh and blood. Ouch. I gave myself time to let it sink in, and I didn't shut myself down when the anger came. I am learning that it passes much quicker if I don't suppress it. Mind you, I'm not raging, throwing things through walls or breaking mirrors...I'm simply feeling it. Anger is one of those emotions that is often shunned in church circles, but it is a God given emotion and is often useful for helping define personal boundaries. It also helps us to know when we need to move forward and confront something:

       John 2:13-17 "Now the Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up   

     to Jerusalem. ¹⁴ And He found in the temple those who sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the money changers doing business. ¹⁵ When He had made a whip of cords, He drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and the oxen, and poured out the changers’ money and overturned the tables. ¹⁶ And He said to those who sold doves, “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” ¹⁷ Then His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for Your house has eaten^[a] Me up.”^[b

I imagine Jesus must have felt intensely angry for him to have been able to drive out sheep and oxen out single handedly, AND turn over the money changer's tables. The anger he felt led him to confront what was going on in God's house that was not ok. Anger is a God given emotion- but it is not to be used to harm others. This is where we have to pray, and perhaps get counsel on how to experience our anger in a way that will lead to healing, and then learn what to do with our anger. And- we cannot forget that Jesus was fully human. He was humanity in its best form. We cannot forget that when God made us, with our wide range of emotions and emotional expressions- he called his work GOOD. And a huge  part of our redeeming and restoring process is  to have healed emotions. 

I woke up this morning in a funk. I wanted out of the process. A pity party may or may not have been thrown.  I was not agreeing with God's plan on this- even though He has given me some insight as to what that plan is, and I have some idea as to what He is up to.  I'm not loving the walking-it-out part at the moment- it hurts. Truth be told, I want my family to leave me alone. I want to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all!" I don't know what else to say to them that would make them understand, and they don't really seem to be coming from a place where they want to understand me anyway, so what's the point? I had several moments where I didn't want to use my shield of faith and withstand the enemy- I wanted to give in to self pity. I didn't want to live up to my name "Strong and able." I wanted a break. 

At some point, I have to be okay with the fact that I know that God has led me here- even when others accuse me. I know that I am in the right, and that God is for me in this. This is where the rubber meets the road. There will always be opposition when we make right choices- especially where the enemy is involved. He wants nothing more than for us to stop short of our inheritance in Christ. What is our inheritance then? This is a short list: We are heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17),  we are adopted and we can call God our father (Romans 8:15), we have a defender who stands between us and all false accusations- we do not need to defend ourselves (Isaiah 49:25). Accusation always comes from the enemy- by the way. Jesus stands in the gap between everything we have lost, all of our hurts and failures and makes a way for us to be whole. 

This is part of the renewing of our minds- exchanging one thought for another thought. Out of fear and hyper-vigilence, I look around afraid of what will come next. Jesus tells us to look to him- the author and finisher of our faith. Not to look around and be afraid (Isaiah 41:10) because He promises to be our God. So, when the thoughts and fears come, I have to choose to hold God to his word, to not look around and be afraid or terrified. I might be angry, afraid, hurt, rejected- but He will do as he promised for me and YOU. For every problem, there is a provision. It is worth fighting for. 

Identity Crisis

I was raised, and we all are to some extent, believing lies about myself. Things that people say stick to us, and that old addage that says "I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks on you", is a lie. Words are like arrows. They can pierce and destroy, or they can bring life.

I've spent the majority of my young life confused, anxious, afraid and discouraged. I didn't want to be any of these things. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to do something important. I wanted to grow and thrive and heal, but I thought the good life was meant for pastor's kids, or people who are spiritually gifted, or to those who came from good families. I came from a dysfunctional family, so clearly, my calling didn't exist. That's what I thought anyway.

I went on a missions trip to Romania with my church, and the very first night, a girl I barely knew prophesied over me "God is going to show you who you are apart from your family." I was blown away. It was shortly after that when scripture started to stand out like God had highlighted it for me. He just kept bring the same scripture to mind, over and over and over again. All I could do was weep. Did He really mean it? I want to be what this scriptures says...but how do I get there? Will He really help me? I remember feeling really angry because if His word was true, then I had been lied to my entire life.

Wounds, when left untreated, fester. They do not heal on their own. I have learned the hard way, although it was not my fault, that repressing memories or stuffing emotions will make you sick, if not physically than at the least, emotionally. The wound must be exposed to a few safe people, but at the very least, to God. Some Christians do not like the icky stuff. They can't handle the truth of our pain and our experience. They may be offended by how our pain manifests itself (anger, resentment, bitterness, depression, self hatred) because those things are "ungodly", but they don't realize that by labeling those emotions as ungodly, they have shamed the natural healing process, which is meant to purge and restore, and have left those who are simply expressing their hurt in a pile of confusion and have only added to their shame. You will notice when you read the bible, God doesn't seem to make a big deal about emotions except for when they are ruling us.  David was venting all the time, as were most of the prophets. He doesn't say not to be angry, but when you are angry, do not sin. This means that we are to have a good grasp on our emotions so that they don't hurt other people. This might mean that part of the healing process is to learn how to experience emotions in a healthy way so that they bring life instead of causing sickness. I am free to be angry, but I am not free to take my anger out on others.

In regards to my mom, what has hurt me the most has been being lied about behind my back, her questioning my sanity and blaming me for blowing things out of proportion. Not once has she validated my experience. Instead, she has said things like "well, things always bothered you more than others" or "I get that you PERCEIVED things that way, but nobody else feels the way you do. You're being too sensitive." She then went on to ask what "my problem" is and what kind of counselor I'm seeing, because they obviously are feeding me lies about my own experience.

When one is surrounded by these kind of invalidations on a daily basis, they learn to question their own sanity. They do not trust their feelings or their instincts. They don't know that they can say no and much less, that IF they say no, it ought to be respected. When her tactics stopped working, my mother began turning to others to paint a bad picture of me. She is still doing this and she is now contacting people I know and trust, asking them if I have essentially lost my mind. And though I tried to pretend it doesn't bother me- it does. The truth is, it hurts me in ways I don't even know how to process. Intellectually, I may know what to think about it, but my heart is greatly confused and in pain.

It is a crisis of identity. Essentially, it is a form of bullying and is incredibly harmful and destructive. One  cannot behave that way and expect the relationship to remain intact. How do these wounds heal? Well, we must come in contact with a truth that is greater than our experience. My mother and father's actions left deep impressions upon me. I learned to attribute their actions to my self worth. It would go something like this "mom is shaming me, therefore, I must really be a disgrace. I must really be worthless." As a child, you have no other option than to believe your parents because it would be intolerable for a child to be able to grasp that the parent was not being loving, or protective, and more than likely it would not be allowed for the child to express their feelings of injustice. Now, I am able to understand that my parent's actions were not loving, kind or even what I deserved. I am able to understand a little bit about what was motivating them at the time and so then I can learn that their actions had so little to do with me.

What is the truth, then? Well, there are many truths that would apply here, but the list would look something like this:
1. I am worthy of love.
2. I am worthy of being protected.
3. I have the right to say no and have that request honored.
3. I have the right to feel safe in my relationships.
4. I have the right to tell a parent how I feel and be comforted.
5. I was created for a purpose.
6. I deserve to heal.

The list gets longer as I go along this journey, because I realize now, that God himself has an opinion about what happened to me.

Goodbye

I did it. I've spent the last 3-4 months praying, examining, praying, trying to muster up the courage to do what I felt I needed to do for this stage in the journey with my mother. I sent the letter. This is not the decision that every child has to make when they deal with their mentally ill parent, but it was the choice I felt was best for me and my family.

Up until now, I have not been so bold as to tell my mother the God's-honest truth about her treatment of me. One thing that Borderline's are really good at is shifting blame, and gas-lighting so that you feel like the crazy one for point out an issue. What is even worse is when an entire family system is still doing the "dance" as I like to call it. Dancing around the issues, sweeping things under the rug, living in denial as to what is really going on within the family and how those behaviors affect every single individual in the family. I stopped dancing, and it seems that other family members are struggling to know what to do with that. I feel for them in that regard.

I have not told my mom the truth because it took me a long time to learn what the truth was, and I was terrified of what she would do.  I would freeze just thinking about telling my truth- "can I say that?" (insert awkward scary face here). Not to mention, the truth was extremely hard to face and I was afraid that I really would not be able to stand any more of her shenanigans if I did say something. The letter I sent was actually very kind. I focused only on how I feel about the relationship, and what I need from her should there ever be a relationship in the future. I was very specific about my needs because she has every right to continue living and NOT meeting any one of those needs, but if that is the case, we will not be in relationship. What needs am I talking about? Well,  It has taken me two years of counseling to learn that it is actually a human need to feel safe, and it is okay to demand that someone be a safe person before continuing a relationship with them. I've spent so much of my life putting my needs on the alter and watching her set fire to them that I did not know there is a better way to live.

How is my mother not considered a safe person? Well, let me give you a few examples: She loves me and hates me, depending on her state of mind which usually has NOTHING to do with me and everything to do with her mental illness. In one moment she will be publicly flattering me, and the next, subtly putting me down or making snide remarks about something she doesn't like about me. It is torturous to watch, and suffocating to be a part of.  She does not seem to be aware of how her behavior affects others, nor does she seem to care. It saddens me to think how fragile her mind and emotions are now. I don't know what triggers her, but I can see the shift happen in her eyes- something changes and she goes from smothering to rejecting in a nano second. I personally got to the point where I emotionally could not play the game. And, you cannot leave a relationship without saying why. I now know that is unkind and cruel. She deserves to know the truth.

So, with the help of a friend and the oversight of my counselor, I began writing. At some point, I realized there was nothing more I could say, and nothing I wanted to take out. I know that I was led to make this decision, and at this point in my journey, this was the kindest thing I could do for her and our relationship, although she and others will likely disagree. I was shaking a bit when I put the letter in the mailbox. There is no going back now. We have a community mail box, so I would have to break a few federal laws to get that mail out. Needless to say, I did not break any federal laws and the letter was on it's way. Faces began pouring into my mind. I wondered if God would come through for me as He has promised. I wondered if I made the right choice, and what would happen when she gets this letter. I made a game plan of what I would do and say should those things happen because I tend to not be able to think straight when the poo hits the fan.

The boundaries are as follows: No contact. None. Until she is in some form of counseling, I won't even begin to entertain the thought of having a relationship with her. That means I won't get to attend family gatherings where she is present. This has been the hardest for me- even though it is my choice, I still feel like I'm the one paying the highest price. So, I will just have to be creative with how to spend time with other family members at different times.

She emailed me almost as soon as she received the letter, and I almost threw my phone across the room when I received it. She basically said that she would not be contacting me and that she didn't agree with how I felt about things. I was surprised there wasn't more of a backlash, but it was still early in the game so we would see what would happen. That evening, I started getting texts messages from one of my siblings whom mom had called multiple times, stating she was having a horrible panic attack and just couldn't understand why I would do this to her and that she was really hurt. That sibling then began to question what I had said and why I felt like now was a good time to send the letter. I briefly explained what I said, and explained that I know this is hard, but the letter is between mom and I, and mom shouldn't even be discussing that with that sibling. I told my sib that I was sorry that this relationship change would affect me going to family gatherings where mom is present, and that I had taken all of these things into consideration when making this decision.

It will be interesting to see how this goes. I am curious to see if my mom even takes the letter to heart and gets help for herself. After all, that was my other main goal- that she would see her need for healing her own wounds before considering reconciling the relationship.

I have hesitated bringing God up in this blog because the topic is dicey. People hear "Jesus" and they think "how can she cut her mother out of her life?" and "why doesn't she just suck it up and love her mother" (which is a topic that would take me far to long to write about in this post)  and probably wonder why Jesus would allow me to walk away. I actually don't know why He has. Typically, when we read the bible, we read it as if it happened 2000 years ago, and as if God is not interested in speaking to us today. As if he is not interested in our decisions, plans or pains.  He is only interested in teaching us lessons. At least that is how I used to read the word. No one human could tell me to leave my mother behind. I would not have believed them. In fact, several people did, told me it was time to get out and I was under so much fear and confusion, that I just couldn't do it and I definitely did not believe them.

Here's the thing about Jesus- He does not seek to control us, not in the slightest. He wont force us to do anything, and will gently lead us until we "get it". For some people this includes more pain than others. He speaks to us each differently, and when He does, it is very personal.  For example,  I often get scripture references that will pop in my mind that speak to directly where I am at. Sometimes I will get a picture and along with it an immediate understanding of what God wants to do in a given situation. But with this, it was a progressive and slow leading that finally brought me to a place where I realized I really only had one choice. And that choice was to stop playing the game which would inevitably leave me wounded and bitter, and place my mom back in the hands of the Father. He is the one who can heal her, love her and restore her, and me being involved in her life may be a hinderance to her feeling some necessary pain that would prompt her to get help. People will judge me for this, but at this point, I'm not sure how much I care about other people's opinions.

The Good

It seems that as I go along, I find remnants of good things intermingled with the bad memories and I'm never quite sure what to do with them. Today, I found a picture of my mom hugging me when I was about 3 years old. She seemed to enjoy mothering at that time in her life, but it seemed that as I got older, those good memories became blurred as life became hard for my mother and she was taken away from us (emotionally) due to the demands of her life as well as her coping skills.

I am one of 4 children. I have one older sister, and two younger brothers. I behave much like a middle child, but also have some oldest and youngest traits because of where I fell in the line up.  I was quiet, and would not ask for what I needed, especially from adults- I would always bribe my sister to do it for me. My parents both remarked that I was rarely the squeaky wheel and often my needs went unvoiced and therefore unmet. They also at one point acknowledged that I was probably the one that needed one on one attention the most because I was keenly sensitive to my environment, and to the needs of others. I know it was not their intention to neglect me emotionally. They both had crappy coping skills and a LOT of undealt with baggage and unfortunately that came out onto us and we bore the weight of much of that dysfunction.

One of the temptations in walking through this process, at least for me, is to ignore the fact that the person who wounded you ever did anything good or nice or loving or kind. I would guess that in most "normal" families where a parent is not mentally ill, they would be able to essentially chalk bad behavior  up to a bad day or week at the most, and move on with their lives.  Ideally, there would be some reconciliation or apology for how the parents behavior affected the child and they both would be able to move on. But for children of a Borderline Parent, or an alcoholic parent, or any other mental/emotional handicap for that matter, this is not the case.  In my experience, most of my mother's behavior has been excused as "I had a lot of stress in my life", or "you know, your dad made it really hard for me to be a good wife/mom ", or worse "you make my life a living hell".  A child would internalize that because what was heard was: "you are not worth my kindness or self control. I can't control myself when I'm angry and you just happened to be the closest thing I could take it out on- sorry. I do not have the strength to give love to you because my life is so hard. You make my life hard because you need me too much. Your needs are too much" Continue this pattern over any number of years and these become ingrained beliefs that shape how we think about ourselves and our behavior follows suit.

Now, I can only speak for myself in this, but I would venture to guess that I am not the only one who has experienced a depth of confusion due to this bazaar polarity in behavior. I have tender memories with my mom. I remember her making me a night gown with matching slippers for when I had my tonsils out. I remember once a friend in my elementary school class told me she was being hit by her mother, and my mom did some calling around to find out if this was true. I was really scared of getting in trouble and my mom winked at me- I remember FEELING protected. I remember her writing really sweet valentines day cards, and making really nice cookies with me. I remember her lying next to me and stroking my hair during a particularly awful time in my life.  I know there are more, but I'm not sure what to do with them because it seems that they lost their meaning once the bad stuff happened. The sweet memories got washed away in a river of painful experiences.

So, I cannot deny that my mother did good things for me, and I have chosen to be grateful for those things instead of pretending like they never happened. Those things will serve me well and will be tools that I can use in how I relate to my children. Unfortunately, she is not that sweet, kind and loving person anymore, and I cannot base my relationship with her now on who she was 20 years ago. I must grieve who she was and move on to the now.

Anyway, I started reading "Parenting from the Inside Out". It is a book written for parents who did not get their needs met as children, and now to gain understanding and insight into yourself so that you can be reparented and appropriately parent your own children. I'm loving it so far, but it is difficult to read and think about. One thing that I have learned about myself is that no matter how much I want to be the perfect parent, I won't be. I have a steep learning curve in front of me and I pray there is enormous grace for me in it. I am doing everything I can to take responsibility for my own life, emotions, needs so that those things are not unfairly placed on my children.

Note to readers: I do not speak highly enough of my Father God. He has been abundantly generous to me. The road has been hard, painful and at times more than I could bear. It felt unfair that I was the one paying for all the damage that was done and not spoken about for generations, but I had to change my perspective. I have had numerous pity parties, all of which He joined me for but promptly encouraged me to leave. This is not about what they did or didn't do (although it is necessary to work through those things), it is about what I want out of life and what I will and will not allow to continue in me or through me. It is about seeing God as my helper, ally, redeemer and healer. Everything I need, He already has promised to be for me.  He delivers completely and is willing to go 100 times farther than I am. Every thing my heart has cried out for has actually been the cry of His since the day I was born, but it was a process to attaining those things.

Sure, I could sit and blame them. I could point fingers. I could name names and believe me, this was necessary for a season for me to tattle on the ones who hurt me. It was essential for me to learn that God cared about my hurt, about the lies, about those who stick up for evil. I needed to know that God is a million times better than any earthly Father could be, and he is a fierce protector of His kids. But there comes a point where you have to turn from the hurt to the healer, or we will never be free. Everything evil that has ever been done to me- I say evil because we know who the author of everything bad is, and he is evil- does not compare to everything good the Father has stored up for me.

I say all of this to say- continue the process that God started in you- He is the author and perfecter of your faith, he is the one who completes what he started in you. Philippians 3:12-13 "Not that I have already attained or am already perfect, but I press on that I may lay hold of that for which Christ laid hold of me. I do not count myself to have apprehended, but one thing I do: Forgetting those things which are behind and reaching towards those things which are ahead..."

Never a dull moment

I was enjoying the quiet. I'd made some pretty radical and scary decisions in regards to my family.  I needed a break. I seemed to be having somewhat of a PTSD response to my mother, and even my brothers- just the whole issue of being harassed whenever I would make a decision that went against what the family unit wanted to do.  I decided to do what was best for me- which was to miss a few unnecessary events so I could work on my emotional processing and see if the Lord would show me what was causing this panic. And, of course, I was harassed for this.  "You're breaking mom's heart, nobody else has any problems with mom, so I don't understand what your problem is." All of a sudden, a light bulb went on.  I realized that there was a scary dynamic going on within my family that no one else was really seeming to acknowledge: there was one persons opinion, needs, and wants that are favored or rather, feared above all others- my mother's. Everyone is expected to do what makes her happy and suits her at the cost of yourself and your purpose. I realized that most families, at least the healthy ones, have respect and value for each individual and the strengths that they bring to the family. My family is not this way- it is heavily lopsided, and in my opinion, very unhealthy and wrong.  Since when is it considered the "Christian" thing to do to forsake yourself, your marriage, children, and even God himself for the wantan desires of a tyrant? It's not.

Even though it was painful, I learned something very valuable here, and it came from a revelation of who God is, and who He desires to be for me. "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty..." (2 Cor. 3:17), and "perfect love drives out fear" (1 John 4:8).  When fear, guilt, shame, or humiliation are present, you can be certain that there are some evil intentions in place. We are not to use manipulation or control to get our needs met, or force others to do what we want. We are to seek the ONE as the source of all those things, and we can count on Him to supply- whether that be through people, jobs, gifted money, whatever. What I learned was to recognize those internal signals. To take a look at what I'm motivated by in a situation- why am I afraid of saying no? Is it because I want to please people? Or because I'm afraid of what they will do or say about me? Is it because I've been shamed in some way? There are many different reasons.

So, I had just gotten to this place of enjoying peace. Boundaries were high up, set in place where I could finally relax and then my mom called. I didn't answer, but she left me a voicemail saying they had found a mass in her abdomen and the next day, it was confirmed as stage 3 ovarian cancer. Of course, I was hit with the news, and was immediately overwhelmed- not in concern for her health, per se, but with worry for what this meant for our relationship. Does this mean I have to get close to her again? Does this mean I change my boundaries? What will other people say (close family) if I am seldom present? And what I absolutely dread the most- that she will use this as another way to get the attention she needs, manipulating the sympathies of others. I can't be the judge of that, but I am rightfully concerned. This would not be the first time she has used a situation to her advantage, and truthfully, I don't even let myself think about it anymore because it makes me sick to my stomach. And, my decision really is no longer about her. I am protecting a healing wound, and I don't want to jump back in too quickly when the nerves are still fresh with pain.

If my mom truly has borderline personality disorder, this situation could become messy very quickly. It could also put her in the position to get a diagnosis as many people will be involved in her care. I really don't know how this is going to go. 

I used to live to please her- every move was dictated by her actions and responses. Part of the intensity and mess was because of my sensitive personality- it seems to have affected me more than the other three kids, but untangling those actions and responses, tracing them back to their roots is, to say the least...very difficult- not to mention time consuming. It's like a construction worker doing some demolition on an old, outdated building. When he knocks through the walls, he finds a mess of wires going to and fro throughout the house, untangling them one by one to trace them to their original source. It is a lengthy upheaval. But, in the end, the power will move more smoothly throughout the house, the electric bill will probably drop, and there won't be as many power shortages- if you catch my drift- it will be well worth it.

And, I am not doing this alone. Where I once viewed myself as a child begging their parent to meet their needs, I now see myself in the Father's affection- I know that in Him, my needs have ALREADY been met. It is His great love for me that pursues me, it follows me, surrounds me on every side. He is the example of parenting that I was lacking in so many ways.

I is still scary. I'm not going to lie. I still have a lot of work to do, and on top of that, I have a toddler, a husband, a job...one day at a time.

They know not what they do.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one, I suppose if I really thought of it, I could get pretty upset, but thanks to a new friend, I'm learning to look at this through a different filter. A young lady and her two children have moved in with my mom temporarily. I really know no details since my mother and I are not talking. However, I felt that similar bitter taste in my mouth when I heard. I felt that same pang of rejection- I am being replaced. I didn't meet her needs so she is looking to someone else. I have allowed myself the necessary grief of feeling the feelings: I'm not good enough for her love, I'm certainly not worth fighting to keep. I was too much and not enough all at the same time. I have to feel it and get it out otherwise it festers. Once I let that out, then I realize that is not true of me. Also, I'm the one who chose to separate from her because of her toxic behavior and her uncanny ability to bring me down faster than anything I've ever known.

My mother is not well. She doesn't think and process things normally. This doesn't make her less of a person, nor does it make her invaluable. This makes her a wounded person who is just trying to get her needs met. I am coming to a place slowly and hopefully for good, where I realize everything she ever did or said that negatively affected me wasn't even about me. It certainly wasn't for me, but had little to do with me at all. I've heard a phrase that says something like "how people treat you says more about who they are than who you are." So, for example, if someone belittles you, mocks you, rejects you- it shows more about their character than your value. But it's taken me a bit of work to realize that how my mother views me is inaccurate and based on faulty information.

This is what I have learned: a person with Borderline Personality Disorder (or anything along that spectrum) operates mainly out of shame and fear. Fear of rejection, and shame at perceived rejection. It is the "I hate you, don't leave me" complex. They manipulate out of a desperate need to feel in control, and often have no idea they are being manipulative.They cannot own their own negative actions and behaviors because that would mean that they are bad, and since they cannot handle that information, they rewrite history so that they are perceived in a much better light. This is where narcissism comes in too- grandiosity of thinking. Thinking that they are greater than they are so they don't have to face the reality of the things they have done that have caused pain. This is a very simplistic description, obviously, there is way more I could write about this but I'm trying to keep it simple.

I cannot trust my mother. I don't think that I ever will. What I want and what I have in front of me are two very different things. What I want is a mom who I can trust, who I can share my secrets with, who I can LAUGH with and cry with. Short of a miracle, this is not going to happen and I have to let that rest on the alter. What I have is a mother who does not know what she has done. She does not value me as a person, because someone who values another person cares about their feelings, cares about earning back their trust, and has a respect of other people's boundaries even if they don't like them.

A conversation with my mother would go like this
Mom: "Why don't you want to be around me?"
Me: " Because I cannot trust you. You hurt me"
Mom: "Well you hurt me to. I don't trust you either. You're being selfish. Why are you always rejecting me?"

A healthy parent would understand their responsibility and role as the parent to reestablish trust and would say "I'm sorry. Can you be more specific as to how I lost your trust and what I can do to earn it back." Which then sends the message "Your feelings are important to me. I love and value you."

All relationships are built on trust, so without trust, where can we go? I realize this post seems perhaps lacking in compassion, but it's really not. I care deeply for my mother. I want her to experience wholeness and joy just like God intends for her. And I know that as her loving Father, He will take care of her as only He can do. It was a burden I was never meant to carry in the first place, so now I am leaving her in His hands, along with the remnants of the relationship. I am willing to do whatever He asks of me, and right now, He has asked me to lay it down. Until He tells me to pursue it again, it's not happening! And I'm okay with that.

Ownership

It's always something, I tell ya! I am just now coming to terms with my mother's illness. It appears that there is a name for her disease- it's called Borderline Personality Disorder. Just like Autism and other mental illnesses, it appears on a spectrum from low functioning to high functioning and is characterized by a tendency to rage, have very little ability to regulate their emotions, be involved in risky behavior and a myriad of other things. I am no diagnostician, but when I typed up my mom's symptoms and behaviors, this seemed to fit almost perfectly.

In learning about this illness, I came to understand how her brain, from a very young age, was trained to respond out of fear and hopelessness, rejection and shame- this is called functioning in the primitive or lower brain- functioning solely out of the lymbic (sp?) system (emotion center of the brain). The emotion center of the brain is formed very early in life and shaped by how well an infant attaches and is secure in their environment and with their caregiver. Research shows that at least 3/4 of people diagnosed with BPD (borderline personality disorder) had some form of early childhood trauma. Obviously, the more severe, usually the worse the illness is. Without intervention, they grow up never evolving or learning new skills or learning new ways of coping. When a situation arises where someone of "normal" brain function would be able to think rationally, reason through it, and respond appropriately, their brain actually bypasses reason and goes straight to reaction. I've heard it said they live life our of a series of  knee jerk reactions. Their manipulation is usually not intentional- but comes out of a desperate need to control, to get back to safety. 

It is incredibly saddening to me. However much of a relief it is that I know there is a name, and a treatment, I cannot imagine the torment it must be to live life on a roller coaster. I've had the unfortunate experience of being along for the ride and that was more than enough for me- it is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. But the struggle remains- they have to choose treatment. I had wondered what it would take for my mom to realize it wasn't the rest of us with a problem, as one by one, people started pulling away from her because of the difficulty of being in relationship with an unstable person- thinking this has got to be the bottom! But it never is. I can't even put the sadness into words.

It is all starting to make sense now- the intense chaos I felt as a child, the craving to just be invisible, yet wanting desperately to be seen. The hesitation I often felt in being near her. Feeling at the age of 8 that I was on my own. That there was no one to listen to me, to play with me or care about my needs. Please understand, while I have my share of very painful memories, she was also kind and loving- which made it all the more a confusing mess. 

The journey is difficult- not just the part about seeing the reality for what it is, but taking ownership of the bad behaviors you learned that come much more naturally than the good behaviors you are supposed to have. For example- if you saw on a regular basis either you or your siblings being yelled at, grabbed by the arm in a forceful manner, being punished inappropriately (meaning punishment that was not given as a learning objective, but out of anger), etc- this is what comes naturally. That doesn't mean you can't learn from it and become better, learn self control and have patience- it just means it isn't the first thing that pops into your head when your child is acting out. 

Every time I see my sweet child's face, and I feel that anger rise up in me because of her disobedience, I am learning a few key things to take ownership of my own responsibility as her parent:

First- I pray- I cry out to God IN THAT MOMENT to help me-I ask out loud- one because it helps me to get out of my funk of thinking, and second because I know what it was like to be yelled at, berated, made to feel ashamed and stupid for minor infractions. I absolutely do not want my children growing up afraid of me, and thank God I get a choice. 

Second, I take a step back and remind myself "how can I make this teachable? Yes- I know I'm upset because she is throwing food on the floor for the 100th time today and I'm going to have to sweep again and my house will never be clean...but what is my priority here? My own selfishness or her security?"- and yes, I will do this until it becomes NATURAL for me to respond with patience and grace...I don't care how long it takes. Plain and simple, children physically cannot learn when they are afraid- so do this in a way that teaches them grace. If I need to and feel like at any point I could possibly snap and say something mean,  then I don't discipline at all. It's simply not worth the damage. 

Third- I hold myself accountable. First to God, then my husband and a few other trusted friends who I know will lovingly correct me and accept me when I mess up- but also refuse to let me get away with it. I realize this may sound extreme to some people, but I know the way I was raised and what was ingrained in my psyche before I had a choice in the matter- I don't take this lightly. 

Parenting is hard...it is not meant for the cowardly and selfish. There- I said it. We all have that tendency to want easy, want it our way, etc, but children do not exist for our selfish motives, and they don't exist for our happiness. God will use our children to help us to grow and develop the fruits of the spirit (love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self control...hello! I'm feeling some conviction!), and we should humbly accept his "gift" to us. Parenting is a flesh killer, at the very minimum. It will test every fiber of your being (well, maybe not yours, but it certainly has mine!).

I realize I went on a tangent or a bunny trail- maybe I'll end up separating this blog into two separate posts later. But for now, this will have to do : ) 

God bless you today! Remember- God is our help!

Andrea