Dear Joanna:

“How I wish I would be so good with words and expressing how I appreciate people“- but you are good with words, in my experience of reading your words.

I have a long, long history of struggling with words, as in: what to say (or type), what words not to say..  what didn’t I say (what did I forget to respond to) but should have; going over my words in my head to detect wrong words, or missing words. I am making progress on this matter, but I still struggle. For example, only a moment ago, when I read the beginning of your post before last, where you wrote: “Anita, thank you“, I thought to myself (with some distress), paraphrased: Joanna said “thank you” at the beginning of her post, but I didn’t start this post with “you are welcome”! Did I say “you are welcome” in my last post yesterday? I should check to see if I did!

I just checked, and no: I didn’t respond to your last “thank you” with a  “you are welcome”.

What is this all about? It is about my mother policing my words, accusing me of words I said and words I didn’t say and should have said, accusing me of intentions that I did NOT have when I said this word or the other word, accusing me of purposefully not saying what I should have said, etc.

*I noticed (as I often do when I write about my mother) that right above, I used the present tense: “It is about my mother…”- I didn’t have any contact with her for nine years and yet, her mental representative in my brain is still policing my words.

As far as words of affection, like using “precious” in regard to you, that felt awkward, uncomfortable, but it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable now, to use it… precious Joanna (see? I used it again and … I feel fine!)

And now to your post before last: “I was thinking today while walking in the park… I see how people react, pay attention, I know I am different. I wonder how it is, what possibilities can person have after having healthy upbringing“- seems to me that a healthy upbringing is uncommon, maybe even rare. And different people’s brains get injured in different ways and to different extents.

“I felt anger at my parents, my mother for putting me through this. But then I thought about what you wrote ‘I know that my healing is and will be partial (but that’s good enough for me!)’and it felt so nice, so positive. The way it should feel. I felt acceptance for myself. I need to remind myself anger should not be directed at myself“- good, remind yourself of this repeatedly, as you walk in the park, and at other times.

“I do seem to have problem with learning. I was always obsessed with knowing things, learning by heart, I felt bad I did not remember basic knowledge“- same here.

“I remember reading this: ‘Trauma therapists assert that abuse experienced early in life can overwhelm the central nervous system“- overwhelm the nervous system is exactly what abuse does, overwhelm and injure, like a house that is overwhelmed by an earthquake and crumbles.

“‘Children…  maintain that this psychological defense mechanism—known as dissociative amnesia”...I remember thinking ‘That’s why I have so little memories from childhood’“- I read the same thing and thought the same thing. 

“Every time she was in better mood, and again speaking to me, she was happy, excited, baked cookies, painted me a picture, bought me things…. It was all very confusing, I accepted this ‘help’ and ‘forgot’ she was not speaking to me the day before…. I immediately smiled and thanked her… so happy she finally spoke to me. I forgot and forgave her without thinking twice. No, she forgave me for whatever I hurt her“- I can relate (not surprising). I had trouble myself putting together into one person the two extreme images of my mother: the cold, cruel, angry, hateful one… and the warm, kind, affectionate .. seemingly loving one. Which one was my mother? And consequently, who am I: If she is the hateful one, then I am her victim; if she is the loving one.. then she is my victim.

I remember thinking not too long ago: if my mother was always bad, consistently bad (cruel, hateful, etc.)- my life would have been so much easier because I would have known she was bad and I would have completely stayed away from her, not having her in my life at all. But because of the mix.. I was a mess, didn’t know who is whom and what to do.

*I just had a memory of that confusion and was afraid, for a moment, that the confusion will return.

“‘I provided her with gossip, wherever I could.. ‘ I did exactly the same. It did seem like “commonality with her’ indeed…finally, a connection. I, too, encouraged my mother to gossip together. She loved it…  However I am pretty sure my mother gossiped about me… my mother too, like yours, gossiped about everyone. No one was safe. No friend, no family member“- another aspect of same mother= same daughter experience… it is amazing how much of us is formed as a result of our childhood (aka formative years) experience with our mothers.

“It was a half-smile, very pleasant facial expression and pleasant voice, not exaggerated, just enough to not be accused of having bad intentions. I think I learnt it when I was young (around 12yo) when she used to ask me every day ‘What is wrong with you? Why are you angry/furious again?‘. I knew I had to seem happy and nice for her, otherwise she will think I am angry at her… she was so fragile, her mood could change in a second and the reason could be my face expression“-

– both our mothers were very fragile, unstable, unpredictable, suspicious, paranoid.. quick to detect anger when there is none, and react angrily: accusing, persecuting… and the persecuted smiles so to.. not further disturb the one already so very disturbed.

anita