Anita, I have been writing a response, but it is already late (I live in Europe) and it is hard for me to focus anymore.

Just letting you know that I appreciate this, I read this and will post soon.

Anita,

Thank you for your response. It is shocking how our mothers are similar. I had some time to think about the Paranoid personality disorder (PPD). I knew she assumed the worst of me and of other people. We even wrote about this here, on forum. Reading about this disorder made me see how sick she is. So many times I tried to convince her people do not mean that. She sometimes imitated this but it was much worse because I could see she was faking it. So many times she took one small detail, analyzed it for days, weeks, years and build a whole new story around it. Now I cannot tell for sure whether people disrespect me or mean well – most times I am confused.

like your mother, my mother – as an adult – was mostly a wounded child, focused on her pain and seeing NONE of mine

Once my mother said to her mother (my grandma) that “Mother is supposed to do parties and Christmas for her children!” (grandma never did) – shows how delusional my mother is. She hardly ever made me a party or Christmas! I was sitting there listening when she said this. How ridiculous.

I forgot to mention Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD)

I read about it some time ago. I watched this tv show, “Sharp Objects” with Amy Adams – that was interesting. I saw a lot of my mother’s behavior there. She fits some of the descriptions but I am not sure if this is enough.

I was always ashamed how she was showing off in front of men. Behaved differently, joked, smiled, talked weird, so fun and talkative. Embarrassing. Grandma is the same.

She also has those attacks, rage. It could be anywhere: in the street, in the shop, post office. Someone would disrespect her, refused her and she would call this person names, offensive words, yell. There was no limit to it. Let’s say she wanted to get in the bus and someone was blocking the way, she would destroy that person, (not physically – not in those situations at least). She expected me to be angry too, so I learned to stand by her. But I never learned to rage – standing by her side and being on her side was good enough apparently, she never made me yell and rage as she did. Now when those situations occur, someone “disrespecting” me, refusing, not noticing me in a queue – I feel my heart beating faster, reliving it again and again. Being afraid is what I feel. I am not afraid of this person – sometimes it is a mother with a stroller, I am not afraid of my reactions – I cannot and not feel like attacking the other person. I just stand there and relive those past situations.

I remember very well how very difficult it’s been for me to make decisions.

How well I know this feeling. Even today I got ready after work and just sat for minutes, thinking if I want to go. If yes, where? groceries/ bakery? by bus/ bike? or just go for a walk and do shopping tomorrow? Funny thing is I don’t know. I make decision based on little things, I just choose randomly because I don’t know.

Anita, you wrote about wasting your creativity and intelligence. I think of the times I liked to do things, sing and cannot imagine how much effort it would be for me now to do those things. One time a girl from my work told me she used to play board games but since she does overtime at work her mind is so occupied she cannot focus right now. This is how I feel for years, all my life since childhood. When I go for a walk I force myself to notice trees, signs, because I normally don’t see them. I am not attentive at work either, I have to force myself and focus to see things – it’s something I need to do, it does not come naturally. There are days it is too much for me to focus to music.

I feel sorry for myself – that I did not have a real mother, that I wasted so many years, could do so many things, travel, meet people. Instead I was dealing with her all those years. I regret living with her for so long, but I do not blame myself for it. She is to blame that it was hard for me to find job, to be successful, to be in healthy relationship, that I had cuts and wounds on my face and it kept me from moving on with my life – it was all her fault that I was stuck. If she was supportive and loving I would not have had all those difficulties.

I feel sad, betrayed, tricked. I miss having a mother. It is really lonely.

It is freeing, though, to know all this, to realize she is in fact sick.

Dear Joanna:

You are welcome. You said that you will post soon and you did (It feels good when people keep their words, thank you!)

“So many times she took one small detail, analyzed it for days, weeks, years and build a whole new story around it“- another commonality between your mother’s behavior and my mother’s behavior.

“One time my mother said to her mother (my grandma) that ‘Mother is supposed to do parties and Christmas for her children!’ (grandma never did) – shows how delusional my mother is. She hardly ever made me a party or Christmas!“- like I said, they (your mother, my mother) are- throughout their lives-  the same wounded children they were. They don’t see themselves as adults. They see themselves (as wounded children)  everywhere they go, they don’t see anyone else.  They didn’t see us (the real-life children)

“She also has those attacks, rage. It could be anywhere: in the street, in the shop, post office. Someone would disrespect her, refused her and she would call this person names, offensive words, yell. There was no limit to it. Let’s say she wanted to get in the bus and someone was blocking the way, she would destroy that person, (not physically – not in those situations at least)“- my mother was often angry at other people but didn’t tell them. Instead, she told me about it.. a whole lot, on and on. But sometimes she exploded at others and it sounds like both our mothers exploded in the same way. My mother tore apart the other person with her words, loud, no-mercy words… and it happened anywhere, on the streets… one time in my elementary school, in front of all the students and teachers who were watching her explode at one of the teachers, my then music teacher.

“When I go for a walk I force myself to notice trees, signs, because I normally don’t see them. I am not attentive at work either, I have to force myself and focus to see thing“- it is as if I wrote these words. It amazes me how much I do not remember about my physical environment. Let’s see…I am trying to remember the color of the walls in the rooms where I live (for more than 8 years), and didn’t remember.. looking: it’s some sort of green in the sun room where I am sitting and typing these words right now, don’t know about the other rooms.

“I feel sorry for myself – that I did not have a real mother, that I wasted so many years, could do so many things, travel, meet people“- I was thinking about it only yesterday: that I really don’t know how it is for people who have mothers who are like mothers are supposed to be.. how does it look like…  if it happened to me.. how would it sound like.. feel like?

“I regret living with her for so long, but I do not blame myself for it. She is to blame that it was hard for me to find job, to be successful, to be in healthy relationship, that I had cuts and wounds on my face and it kept me from moving on with my life – it was all her fault that I was stuck“- true.

“If she was supportive and loving I would not have had all those difficulties“- true.

“It is freeing, though, to know all this, to realize she is in fact sick“- it is freeing: freeing from the guilt and shame that we felt as children, shame and guilt that did not belong to us then, and do not belong to us now!

anita

Dear Joanna:

I just came back from a walk over the crunchy ice left over from the snow that fell 2 days ago, my hands are frozen and it’s hard to type, but I read and smiled and feel encouraged by your post. I will reply further in Fri morning (it is Thurs afternoon here).

anita

I just came back from a walk over the crunchy ice left over from the snow that fell 2 days ago, my hands are frozen

was it good or bad feeling, if I may ask?

I remember this feeling from childhood (also nowadays when I forget the gloves) at that time it only meant I had fun in the snow as a child. I liked the feeling of coming home and warming up. Also I live in a place where it is cold often and winters can be long.

I read and smiled and feel encouraged by your post

that is again very nice for me to read.

For many years, I inattentively/ mindlessly moved along in life, like a leaf blown by the wind, taken any way the wind blew.

Well said. I could never put my finger on it, on how to call it. Once I thought :” I guess things just happen to me while I stand there”. I still have this feeling sometimes but maybe not that often anymore, not everyday.

she responded by verbally ATTACKING ME. She didn’t want anything from me other than me being a dumpster for her venting

I once told my mother it gives me headache, listening to her vent. I used to wake up and night, can’t sleep and think of all this clutter she put in my head. It gave me bad view on people in general. I had negative attitude because of this. It is nice to not having to hear it anymore. Interestingly, she wanted me to vent too, she liked to listen and complain on some people who wronged me too. But it always ended with blowing it out of proportions. She was able to make a monster out of my school friend, whom I was ‘angry’ at because she bought the exact same jacket as me.

walking (active) meditation is easier for many people than sitting (passive) meditation.

For me it is helpful being active, trying to be creative, not necessarily for the sake of art but just to create something, to engage in it.  For past months I was scraping off the remains of the paint on window frame, floor (though I did secure it before painting the wall). It was not much but took long as I had to be very precise to not ruin the surface. It was therapeutic.

I am so glad you returned to your thread: thank you

That means a lot, Anita.

Looking forward! Good night 🙂

Anita,

Thank you for responding.

when your head was cluttered with your mother’s words and emotions, there was no space in your head, aka mind.. for your own life; therefore, you lived mindlessly, without a mind, so to speak

That’s what I am wondering about.. Will this even change.. I feel like all those years I had her opinions, her assumptions. One time I was trying a jacket and she called me,  and I told her I was trying a jacket. She said “the long one? I don’t think it would fit you”. When I said “I think it’s nice, I’ll take it” (I sometimes was trying to do something opposite just to rebel agains her, even though I was not convinced) Then she said “Ok, sure, take it. It would look good on you!” (very fake). After that I did not even know whether I liked it or not. I bought it, wore it in my room and then returned it. Then I would go to this shop couple of times, tried it again, but still didn’t know if I liked it. I did not buy it again.

I am still dealing with her=my negative attitude

Unfortunately me too. I thought not having to listen her vent would make it better, of course it did but did not eliminate it completely. Even this year I met a new colleague at work and he made a bad impression on me,  I was a bit rude to him our first conversations. He did not want to follow some rules we have here and I was afraid he would get me in trouble (his work was my responsibility then) but that does not justify it – I know I was not nice to him not because he refused to follow the rules. I was rude because he did not make a good impression. I apologized to him and that’s a lesson for me for the future but .. I am not proud of myself and I still feel guilty. He is a good and honest person, I should have just be honest and talk to him instead of being rude and cold.

she enjoyed venting her anger at people, didn’t she..? And when she ran out of people in her own life to vent about, she borrowed people from your life.

She even applauded me when I was sometimes angry at someone, trying to make me more angry, making up assumptions how this person was even more evil, because she or he said this or that and it would mean more, something I could not see at first but she sees it.. This one time I was angry at my cousin for rearranging my candles on my dad’s grave, she (my cousin) told something like “it’s not yours, get out of here”, “this grave is not yours to take care, but grandmas”. She was rude, disrespectful even, but she was 15 yo, I guess she did not realize fully what it meant for me that my dad is dead. I got angry, but did not call her names or anything, it was more like I lost my temper, started shaking, my voice trembled. I shouted something like “YOU get out of here!” “What do you know about having a dead father” etc. My mother was there too, and she hated my cousin. I think she touched her, wasn’t hitting her but it was a bit violent, with name-calling and shouting, she did not push her but I am pretty sure she did touch her slightly.  My mother used to talk about this situation for years.  She was proud of me I lost my temper. She used to say “I really regret you did not hit her when you had the chance!”. She loved how upset I was then. I cannot express this with words here how excited she was. She prized me. What she did not and will never understand is how my hands were shaking, my heart was beating fast and I could not move, I was terrified. I cried for days after this. Not only because of my cousin, I think overall I had a breakdown. I am ashamed of this. My mother was excited and proud of me, she would have been even more proud if I had hit my younger cousin. She really liked the fact that after all those times when she had her rages against other people, finally she saw me having one. She always used to say how my cousin was little and was not behaving sometimes and my mother would spank her and “it was so satisfying”. She used to talk about it, repeat it so many times how she loved it. Now I (almost) lived up to her expectations. (It was more less 10-11 years ago).

This does not happen to me anymore. I may lost my temper couple of times more but it was anger towards myself, shaking and crying. One time towards other person, in high school, to a girl from my class. I am ashamed of this. I know my mother led me to it. But it is my responsibility – I was an abuser at that moment. To someone else I was the abuser.

The more you practice Mindfulness, the less mindless you will be.

I think with time it gets better. Thank you for encouragement, Anita.

Dear Joanna: I will read and reply Mon morning. It is early Sun afternoon here, but I am especially tired. Good night, Joanna!

anita