What was to be a few days, picking up my Father's furniture and his belongings, turned into an ugly scene with my mother...and ended with me leaving early and spending the rest of the week recovering with a friend.
Perhaps I was overly optimistic that this visit with my mother would be normal. Even my brother and husband had tried to prepare me for the possibility that it might not go as planned. Visits with my mother rarely do, yet, I stayed true to my belief that this visit would be different. I didn't shore up any walls or defences like I usually do, in order to protect myself. I realise now, this was what my husband was worried about....
Looking back, I realise there were a few red flags that I should have heeded. Some 'off the cuff' comments she'd made before we came down...they made me think for a bit, but ultimately I discarded the notion that she would be make this visit difficult.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Time really has no meaning to someone who feels they are the "victim". Even though it's been 7 years since we've had our last "disagreement" she was able to readily bring up shit that had pissed her off from 20 years ago. The woman simply cannot let anything go.
I don't even like to call our discussions, "disagreements" or "fights" because when I'm standing there and she's screaming nonsense at me....what do you call that? I refuse to participate in these discussions with her. I absolutely refuse. I walk away. It's the only way I can stay sane.
There is no reason for me to participate in her nonsense anyway. She continues to brings up the past over and over and how she feels everyone has hurt her personally in some way. I have since read and studied that is what people with narrssisstic disorders do...Honestly, if I stayed, it would be difficult for me to keep a straight face and not bust out laughing at half the shit she brings up. I know she's been diagnosed bipolar but I swear she's delusional as well.
Her perception of the past is so skewed.
There simply is no way to make sense out of her skewed logic. Her moral compass is so off it's scary.
She could take up days and days of writing, but I promised myself I wouldn't do that.
After moving out when I was 18, I sought therapy to help me understand why she is the way she is....in order to cope better.
She raised me, yes. Adopted me, yes. Do I feel that she was my mother? Yes. But not in the way most children do. I was more the mother in that relationship. So it will always feel, in my heart, like I didn't really have one...in the true sense.
Which brings me back to why I put up with all this crap. To get my father's things. He was my parent in every way. He protected me. Guided me. Loved me unconditionally. I was very much a "Daddy's girl". It was an easy roll for me to fill and to flourish.
As I went thru some old photos last night, there are so many photos of my Father and I. You can see the look in my eyes when I'm with him, pure adoration.
I realise now why my mother said she resented me all those years ago(and probably still). My Father and I had a very special bond which is was easily seen...even in the photos.
I miss him everyday.
I know I always will.