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  • #317749
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    I am glad I have the time and mental space this morning to read your post. You are right, it does take focus to read this.

    Before I begin my reply, I want to say one thing. I was going to mention it in my previous post but I thought about waiting, as it didn’t seem to fit in. I thought about it as I posted— after I read your reply I realize that I was indeed onto something.

    I told you about two weeks ago S came to visit.  My sister and I spent time with her. After she left my sister and I were talking alone for about an hour before we met with my husband. That was the evening the three of us had dinner together and he opened up to my sister about how bad his working conditions are. I mentioned this entire evening to you.  Anyway, a detail that I overlooked was the following. When my sister and I were alone we were talking about how my friend was head over heels over her fiancé, and it was nice to see her like this.  We continued the conversation and my sister mentioned something: she never hears me talking like this about my husband.

    I remember feeling slightly uncomfortable when she mentioned this. I replied to her: well I guess we’ve been through so much that it’s hard for me to have those lighthearted loving feelings.

    She looked at me again, and asked well do you love him? I never hear you say that.

    I remember feeling uncomfortable again. And my response was well of course.  I don’t remember exactly what happened later, but I think she might’ve asked me some of the things I like about him.

    Anita, This sounds like a side  thing to mention. But it is not. I am 34 years old and married for over two years now. And I feel uncomfortable speaking about the love for my husband, I feel uncomfortable being happy outwardly and being in love with my husband. This is exactly a version of what you are talking about. I continue to tell and relive my mother’s  story, living in the identity of: never being those other people who are blissfully unaware and happy. How dare I sink into my own marriage and find comfort in love with my husband!? How dare I be comfortable and in love!?

    And then when my sister and I ended up having dinner with my husband and I was the observer, observing him talking openly with my sister – Felt great admiration and respect for him. I thought back to my sisters question from prior, and I comforted myself in knowing that I am not great at explaining how I love my husband. That wasn’t the point though. That evening is not when I truly realized the issue, I realize it now.

    I am afraid to be happy. I don’t know how to be.

    It’s not about not knowing how to relax, it is truly not knowing how to be happy – Which is a great deal more severe.

    I remember when I felt that discomfort when my sister asked me the question, it was my own sister. It wasn’t a stranger with whom I would feel uncomfortable with. It was even my own sister that I felt uncomfortable with because it felt odd to be overly happy out loud. It had nothing to do with her. I’m sure deep down inside, I felt disloyal to my mother. It felt disloyal to be blissfully Happy.  Or happy at all!

    I usually think of myself as someone who does not get nervous or uncomfortable easily. I am involved in very many situations almost on a daily basis in which I feel quite comfortable. But how ironic, something so simple as asking if I love my husband made me feel physically uneasy. How simple yet difficult.

    Years ago I would have taken this to mean that perhaps I don’t truly love my husband. I would have gone into a tailspin- and wondered about my feelings. I know now this is for sure not true, and it was just me getting into my head in the past. In fact -the point of the story is not even about my husband himself, it was the fact that I could not feel comfortable being vocal about something that is a primitive emotion, love.

    If you asked me how my day was, I could talk to you for 60 minutes. If you ask me about the problem of X versus Y I could talk to you for 120 minutes. If you asked me about my relationship with a certain friend I could go on and on.

    But life first and foremost is about love and peace. These are foreign things for me to talk about, I guess I truly have never given that much thought in my life – Always replaying my mother story never sitting down and thinking what is it that I really love, what brings me peace? NEver having to voice to speak up about this, never knowing I could have that voice at all.

    This is the start of my reply, your post was of course very detailed and pivotal, and it will take some time to sink again. I started off with this anecdote. You may reply if you would like, and then I will continue.

    • This reply was modified 4 years, 6 months ago by Cali Chica.
    #317757
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    I noticed that intensity in your eyes, that first photo you sent me, in the subway. Stern, intense- far from any image of a care free, light face. Heavy, not light. This is the face of a very loyal CC, loyal to her mother. Long after NC. Still loyal.

    You were born as carefree and light and loving baby, no less than any other. Then you got stuck in her Story.

    To get stuck in a story, a two  dimensional story that never changes (because it is a story that already happened and is not happen-ing), that means you have to be two dimensional yourself. It is as if you are stuck in a closed book, you don’t have the space to be anything but a page stuck in a closed book.

    It is her Story, a closed book story.

    When your sister asked you if you love your husband, she pointed to a space in that book that you don’t have- a third dimension.

    To keep with the imagery- the page in the book that is you, it has a whole lot of writing and it is very intelligent, it is a whole lot of words but very little soft emotion, that third dimension.

    As tragic as it is that you are stuck in that 2 dimensional story that is not even yours, you feel quite comfortable in it because you’ve been spending so much time in that 2D existence. Asked about 3D (soft emotion)- why, this is different, uncomfortable. Part of you doesn’t want that 3D.

    You and I have to do something about this right here,  on your thread. We shouldn’t keep being engaged in 2D, in Her Story. We have to do the 3rd dimension.

    Two  ways to do that- past or present, both, better do both. It is time for you to see differently, to feel differently, to get unstuck. Time you tell your own story. For example, you can start with the Disney World story and tell it as your story, not hers.

    There may be a third way of course, I am brainstorming here.

    anita

    #317773
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    You are right, something needs to be done right here.  In fact, after I posted above about my sister’s question – I thought it would be a good idea to actually practice in the present – what my voice is.  Whatever comes to mind.  Thinking I have been doing this all along – but it was prior to the fact of the information we have now.

    Living in 2-D, surviving, but not living.  2-D is devoid of that softness, of that heart.  That is why it often feels exhuasting, robotic, without an off switch, and never able to “sigh relief.” As it is 2-D.  Stuck in someone else’s story, just a page in a book – stuck.  Stuck for sure.

    2 ways to do it, past or present.  I am having trouble with the past, or even mustering up any memory of the Disney world story at this moment.  Thus, I will start with the present if that is okay.  I will just type what comes….

    Around the time of your reply, the long monumental one – I got a text from, yes you guessed it: S.  It said “hey how was your weekend?”

    What did I feel? Annoyed.  I felt this feeling of annoyance of not wanting to take any attention away from the hard work I am doing with Anita today. Then I thought, where is this ROAR coming from? 1) slight annoyance at her as she is always available to chat about nonsense, and the only friend of mine that seems to have time like this, leading me to feel guilty for not replying 2) annoyance at myself for taking even a moment away from what is important from me 3) not replying but wondering if it is rude -but knowing it is not – she is focused on her world, so why can’t I be focused on mine?

    So the point of this is, what is my voice saying?

    My voice is saying this Anita: I am sick and tired of being close to people.  I was so “close” as in enmeshed, entrenched, enveloped in my mother’s story that  I want to be free.  Free of any burden to any people.  This  is why I find myself getting irritated so easily but others.  Yes, it is multifactorial – but at this very moment, this is key.  I do not want to have any responsibility to anyone but my own self.  And I don’t truly – I don’t have children.  But, living in my mother’s story, I must act in a way in which I am not those “ungrateful selfish people who don’t tend to others, only to my own self – selfish and ungrateful, forgetting where they came from and who was there for them.”

    This isn’t about friends.  I have friends that I don’t have to keep up with.  A friend in LA with 3 kids and a full time job, keeping her head above water.  When we chat its great, and no pressure in between.  That is it.  Mature – no pressure.

    I am maturing now, and don’t need any pressure.  My voice is that I am changed.  I am no longer the identity people once thought of.  S messages me so much, because old CC was always available to chat on any topic.  Well S may still be, CC is not.  In fact she never had that mental energy before to begin with – she just forced herself.

    Perhaps seeing that text reminded me of how much I have forced myself to multi task and put my true needs second.  Never knowing my voice.

    You are right, that picture of mine, it isn’t soft and carefree.  It is hard and stern.  Of course.  I would say before, it was after a long day of work with patients.  But it is more than that.  The ROAR is stuck inside, and especially when that voice has no space to develop – when CC is attending to others – the ROAR gets louder.  This is why I had such a difficult summer, attending to other peoples weddings, London trip, stupid cousin and her boy troubles.

    I didn’t speak with my voice did I? Yes, I spoke a lot, a ton, too much in many cases (like with the cousin) but whose voice was it? Not mine. It was from the page stuck in the book. Speaking narratives from an old story.

    My voice is saying  this.

    Every day I dream of being in a place that is far from here.  Where it is just me, my husband, and my dog.  I don’t know where yet, but I know it will be a place where we don’t know many.  Moving geographically doesn’t change anything.  As even being here, I don’t interact with too many people like before.  But there are more pressures.  There are more events.  There is family (his family).  And I look forward to less of all that. I truly do.  Feels good to admit it.

    I dream of a day, a Sunday, where we can choose whatever we want to do – and wait – the following Sunday as well – and the following.  Imagine, a whole month in which we can do this.  How freeing.

    I dream of a time in which my husband has this room to breathe so to speak, and I can continue mine (as I have already started obtaining some of this room while here).

    My voice says: no more.

    No I am not interested in doing anything more.

    I chuckle at the idea of sitting on the couch, maybe a window open and saying to my husband – what do you want to do today? and we feel no pressure at all…

    #317791
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    I want to attend to just one topic in this post because it is important to clear this up first. Again and again.. and yet again I read how supposedly unselfish your mother was or presented herself as, and how selfish other people are and they are getting away with it.

    This is what you wrote in your recent post: “I must act in a way in which I am not those ‘ungrateful selfish people who don’t tend to others, only to my own self- selfish and ungrateful, forgetting where they came from and who was there for them'”-

    Well, didn’t your mother never work since married to your father, never brining in a single dollar to the household, and didn’t she use her husband’s money to buy herself expensive clothes and jewelry, decorate her house expensively, travel the world, living the five star lifestyle she loves to  show off to family members in India (who don’t live that lifestyle)?

    And didn’t she ungratefully treat that husband poorly, making him her puppet, humiliating him for not satisfying her sexually, topping the cake with an affair with anther man?

    1. “those ‘ungrateful .. people”- wasn’t your mother ungrateful to this man who financed her lifestyle?

    2. “those ‘.. selfish people who don’t tend to others, only to ..own self’- didn’t your mother tend to herself all through her life since you know her, hasn’t she been extremely and consistently selfish?

    3. “those ‘.. selfish and ungrateful, forgetting where they came from and who was there for them'”- wasn’t your mother all those things, didn’t she forget who was there for her, your father… (and you!) – and didn’t she forget where she came from when she showed off her five-star lifestyle to family in India who don’t live that lifestyle?

    – and didn’t she get away with all of that???

    anita

     

    #317805
    Anonymous
    Guest

    * oh, one more thing- didn’t she have an affair with a man, a landscaper whom her husband (your father) hired, that is, a man paid by your father???

    #317827
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    yes she did. And worst of all- she used her daughters to be punching bags, never thinking about their long term outcome. Creating damage in their lives from day one.

     

    #317831
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    Her Story if full of holes- a fiction. You can’t trust a person who displays extreme selfishness for decades to be a reliable witness to.. other people’s selfishness.

    Another point, something I mentioned to you earlier a few times but you never responded to it: do you remember how you predicted that if you go NC, she will enlist the whole family to reach you, that she will be so distraught that she will be hospitalized with psychosis-

    – none of that happened, right? As far as I know, she didn’t even send you a letter asking you to contact her, did she??

    And what did you learn from seeing that your prediction was not even close to what (didn’t) transpire?

    anita

    #317837
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    i guess I never vocalized this. I have with my sister often, but perhaps not in writing here.

    my mother is a fraud. She used hysteria to scare us. Exclaiming she would die if we didn’t do This or that. Imagine a young girl – scAred beyond belief that her mother would take such a drastic measure! My goodness, what I do must me important then!

    Thus I was tricked. Tricked into believing that every action of mine reflected onto her and thus has to satisfy her. For nothing more than the “fact” that she had a bad life and deserved better now. She fed me lies from birth and of course I believed them – it was my mother.

    She threatened me way into adulthood and used this as a way to control me even then, far later than one would imagine.

    I used to believe it until then. Seeing some of it pan out – my extended family comings after me etc .

    but – and a huge but –

    when I truly saw the reality of who she is. A fraud, a liar. A work of fiction – that is when I said enough. That is when I decided to go no contact. This is when it all made sense, every effort of mine would be in vain from now and forever. But my future children would be harmed beyond belief as well. I agree with all of that inside. And I know that every single thing is a lie.  I Was assured in my decision and have never gone back, because I never took it lightly, when I decided to go no contact I saw her for who she truly was.

    What’s left is residual teachings from her voice, yet I never truly think that anything that she has taught me or my sister is truly the way to see the world

    #317843
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    If her story is, as it is, a fraud, a work of fiction- then do tell the true story- not hers, but yours. There is so much to tell. The third dimension, that of softness is in that telling of your true life story. Remember you described seeing your mother as a fragile puppy. You were that fragile puppy living under the power of an aggressive and dangerous animal, your mother.

    It is time for the real-life fragile (soft) puppy to tell her story.

    anita

    #317859
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    starting tomorrow this is my work. To tell my real life true story. As it truly is 3-D. I likely will need some assistance from you. I will give it a fresh start tomorrow morning. I will think about this over the evening as I have a restful time – without any distraction. Thank you for your works and effort today. We have gone to the next chapter.

    #317863
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    We think in similar ways. Before reading your email I did think that the previous chapter (her Story) is closed. A new chapter started. I was also thinking that if it will help you I can give you an example of this kind of work by doing some of mine on your thread. But I prefer not to because I don’t want my story to interfere with yours. I want your story to be indeed just that, your story.

    If it becomes necessary or helpful  I am willing to do what I suggested here, first paragraph.

    I was also thinking that starting your story, may be a good idea to start it when you are calm, during a “restful time” like you wrote.

    I do wish you a restful evening and night, you certainly deserve rest, calm and well-being.

    anita

    #317917
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    I am awake, in a comfortable position in my own home.  I know that the task in front of me is huge, and thus I am dedicating my full undivided attention to it.  No distraction.  I don’t get to spend a lot of weekday time at home doing this, but today I have a late start.  Perfect timing.

    I think of this next chapter as “intensive workshops” in the sense that I have my work cut out for me, a second job almost.  It is vital to my healing, and to move forward..  That stuck, stagnant junk.  That voice that has been stuck for so long.  What does it say? So much anger and resentment at anyone or anything that “robs my time.” Well it makes more sense now. There is so much crap, for lack of a better term, that has been unattended.  That I must attend to.  Deep down inside I know this, it lingers and it brews inside me.  I know every time I jump to give attention to something/someone else – I go farther and farther from attending to this stuff.  That is why I have been so resentful of giving any time or attention away. I search for reasons and excuses and try to validate it, so not to have guilt.  But today, I know, there is no need for this.  The work in front of me is monumental.  It may not be seen by the eye, but I know it – you know it, and that is simply all that matters.  Life can not simply stop for me to do this work.  But, I can fill important spaces with it, and make it my priority.  I have been, but even more so now.

    So where to begin? My voice.  3-D.  Not 2-D, one piece of paper stuck in a book of fiction.

    I know this is hard work because I woke up with swarming thoughts, many different memories of my life.  Not so much childhood, but adolescent and forward.  Many scenarios.  This time I analyzed each one.  I had a full memory in some cases, but was it my voice? It was likely not.  So then what is my voice?

    This might be the hardest work I have ever done.  It feels so foreign, and perplexing.  I am simply dumbfounded.  But gauging from the energy  inside of me, it is a must to dig deep and start somewhere..  I know you are here to guide me if I don’t know what direction to go in.  I have no idea how to start, for once I am at a loss for words.

    My sister and I are going to Aruba at the end of the month, for a sister trip.  It will be fun and relaxing.  Perhaps a vacation is ta place where I can begin.

    We went to the Bahamas years ago (and I won’t give myself too much pressure to add details or make this a perfect narrative, I am just beginning and I have a feeling accessing old memories will be easier with time).  My mother sister and I..  We did many trips like this.  This was at Atlantis, it is this huge mega resort that is made like the old ancient Atlantis ruins. My mother wanted to go there as she heard how amazing it was, underwater this and that, huge outdoor slides, a sight to see.  Let’s say it was on her “bucket list.” So off we went.

    I am there, I am in residency or medical school or something. An adult, I feel excited to go on a beach vacation, who wouldn’t be..  I know that it isn’t always relaxing with my mom, but I will have a great time with my sister..  Well when we get there, it begins.  They had gone through our suitcases for a search, and she was angry that everything was strewn everywhere.  Then we look at our room, and I think there was something wrong with the toilet.  I go and flush it and the water starts coming up.  Oh my.  My mother says to me something like: “god always making a mess everywhere you go, we just got here.”

    Looking back I don’t know what I felt then.  I think something like, “oh man I always screw up, and now she’s going to be mad – but also laced with, wow it isn’t a big deal mom.” That dichotomy, that mixed trapped emotion..  Today I will say: get over it.  We just arrived at this amazing place, so what if your bag was searched – that is TSA.  It isn’t personal to you, you aren’t some ambassador to the US that is above the natural airport process.

    And no. No, I am not a child that goes to the toilet and starts messing around and causing a mess.  No, you idiot.  Who would do that? Are you dense? In some ways you raised me to be this big almighty important person and doctor, and yet you quickly forget that this same person would have enough common sense to not make stupid errors.  Well that is your jargon: “you have no common sense.” I believed this..  But I never had the chance to develop half of it, since you and dad parade around the house like crazy monkeys cleaning and perfecting every nook and cranny – screaming at the top of your lungs that no other parent would do this much.  Crazy monkeys.  When would I have had the chance to use some practical “common” knowledge to fix a household item? When? In fact, kids that grow up without being able to do basic things in society – you can’t ridicule them – you have to look at the parents and say, there was a miss on their end.  Parenting means raising well adjusted children. Good parenting at least.

    So anyway, we end up switching rooms and starting our day.  Funny how looking back I vaguely remember my sister and I being excited now, like kids, ready to go out.  We were our mothers little children jumping for joy.  We did not do this on purpose per se, but it was natural for us to be excited, and even more so as years went by I am sure as it made my mom “happy” to see us excited.  Out we went.  Beautiful pools and compounds.  We sat down on some chairs.  And of course it began.  Judging each and every person around us.  “how does X person afford to come here? He looks like a construction worker, maybe he is independently wealthy? Oh look at how much food Y ordered, jeez! It is like $10 a water bottle here, imagine all else.”

    My sister and I go swim and get into a fun zone.  I look back and think how quickly we were able to brush it off and literally jump in the pool and have some fun.  This leads to the resilience we have to this day.  But, (and I will speak for myself) it also leads to brushing over my own voice and true thoughts and jumping into the next thought or activity.  We embarked on the mega slide, and my mother was on the bottom taking pictures.  I think the largest water slide in the world.  Definitely exhilarating.

    When I was done, my mother said: “that’s it?” You guys don’t want to go more.. And I am not sure if that was this day or another, but she pretty much meant: I brought you all the way here to this mega world class place, and you don’t want to appreciate it or take advantage of it?

    No mother, I don’t.  I am 20 something years old.  Not 10.  What i need out of this vacation is some down time.  I need mental space to breathe.  If that means laying on the lounge chair for 30 mins, it is that.  If it means go on the slide once to try it, it is that. I am not your 5 year old puppet child to give you a sense of accomplishment.  Why does you ability to feel good about this vacation rely so heavily on this? How much pressure is that? How disgusting.  If that is the case then don’t even cover it up in the guise of a vacation.  You have all these hopes and dreams to travel – so good for you.  But don’t use my sister and I as props to elevate how good of a job you do traveling, or to feel more fulfilled.  No matter what you do, you will never be fulfilled anyway.  So you want me to go up and down the slide 1309 times? Then what if my whole body is chafed? You will call dad and ridicule me.  Oh look at CC using the waterslide like a stupid child, now I have to take her to the doctor – oh what a huge bill and burden.  I can think of million scenarios.  That is not the point, you are a miserable evil being. There is zero room for me to be myself.  I hardly know what myself is, but we all have innate needs.  I am so tired, and all I need is rest.  You don’t respect this at all.  To this you say: rest! who brings their daughters on this kind of vacation! this didn’t even happen because my voice didn’t speak up to say this is what I needed, as I convinced myself I didn’t.  I convinced myself I can keep on pushing.

    You tired me out so much, wrung every ounce of energy from me.  All under the guise of being a super mom and showing her daughters the bestest times.  Such manipulative vindictive behavior.

    I will leave it at that for now…and continue after your reply.  I am not sure if  I “used my voice” at all here…perhaps you will have to guide me some.

    #317925
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    I am reading and commenting piece  by piece, adding thoughts I had yesterday regarding your work:

    –First, regarding going to Aruba with your sister- the two of you should prepare for it by forming ground rules so that the vacation is a success for the two of you. My suggestions: talking about your parents should be minimal, and maybe none at all. If you find yourself having a good conversation with her on the matter, limit it to a short time even if it feels good to have the conversation. Regarding her NC- better not discuss it at all, except to tell her just one time (can be done before the vacation, if you haven’t already) that you are proud of her for taking such a huge step in her healing, that she is courageous and that you respect her for this choice that she made. Let me know if you need more of my input regarding the pre-Aruba preparation with her.

    -Yesterday you wrote: “when I decided to go no contact I saw her for who she truly was. What’s left is residual teachings from her voice”- it has become clear to me most recently, that indeed analyzing her teachings and her voice has been valuable but resurrecting your voice is necessary. In general terms the old chapter of your healing was about her voice. The new chapter is all about resurrecting your voice.

    -The Bahamas vacation:

    *suitcases searched by TSA-> Mother is disapproving, “angry that everything was strewn everywhere”.

    *dysfunctional toilet->you flush it, water comes up-> Mother is disapproving, angry: “always making a mess everywhere you go..”->switch rooms.

    *sitting on chairs outside, mother is disapproving, angry at other vacationers: “how does X person afford to come here?.. look at how much food ordered, jeez!…”

    *you go on the mega slide (mother taking photos), come down, she is disapproving: “that’s it?.. You guys don’t want to go more”?

    -“I vaguely remember my sister and I being excited.. We were our mother’s little children jumping for joy”- a mix of at times excitement, at other times, and too often,  performing joy (while not experiencing it) because “it made my mom ‘happy’ to see us excited”.

    Notice, CC, how you argue with your mother, how you ROAR in this very post: “get over it. We just arrived.. you aren’t some ambassador.. I am not a child that goes to the toilet and starts messing around.. you idiot.. Are you dense? .. you.. Crazy monkeys. When would I have had the chance to use some  practical ‘common’ knowledge.. When?… No mother, I don’t. I am 20 something… I need mental space to breathe.. I am not your 5 year old puppet child… How disgusting… good for you. But don’t use my sister and I as props to elevate how good of a job you do traveling.. so you want me to go up and down the slide 1309 times? .. my whole body chafed? You will call dad and ridicule me.. you are a miserable evil being”!!!

    I am taking an unexpected break here because it occurred to me a moment ago and I ask you: can you continue to heal while knowing that she got away with all this abuse?

    Because NC meant nothing significant to her, didn’t she get away with it? How can you move on from here with all this anger at her while she keeps living with no consequence for her relentless abuse of you (and your sister)?

    anita

    #317941
    Cali Chica
    Participant

    Dear Anita,

    Thank you for your comments, as well as the break – a valid question.

    Can I continue to heal, knowing that she got away with all the abuse – it was nothing significant to her, the NC?

    Yes, absolutely.  In fact even more so.  If I had any inkling that she was indeed NOT a pathological human being, a normal non dysfunctional brain, had an ounce of love within her – I likely might not have gone NC (holding on to hope).  Or if I had, I would have wavered back and forth.

    I did not.

    There are people in this world whose minds do not function like the majority.  Think of serial killers, Ted Bundy and the like.  They are notorious and will go down in history.  But there are many others (on a much smaller scale of course) that float around the world daily.  They lack empathy, love, and remorse.

    To me, they are not normal humans.  I use the world “normal” colloquially here of course.

    To expect an abnormal human to feel, to grieve, etc – would be foolish, as it is not possible.  I just happen to be born to an evil abnormal human being.

    I have dealt with many prisoners as a doctor, as well as criminals of other sorts.  It is not that I am a forensic specialist, but the one thing in common I have seen in my short interactions is total apathy, and consistent blaming of others (whether it be a person, the system, etc).  NEVER taking any ownership of their wrongdoings.  And if they do, it is just to get something else — “well I may have done X, but it was because of Y.  I may have done X, but doesn’t that show you how bad Y is?”

    I know this, and once again –  I am not an expert.  But I do know the reality of my mother is this:

    She is so terrible, that she had 2 (not 1) go no contact with her.  And to this day if she was on the podium, in front of the jury – she may be hysterical preaching how she is getting old and has no one, but in a split second, would be enraged and angry that she doesn’t deserve this sort of treatment after all she did.  It was all be hysterics.  Never once having true feeling or empathy. Never once speaking a truth (if she happens to it just so happens)

    Not normal – pathological.  No way to make sense of it – as it does not make sense.

    So to answer your question – the fact that she “got away with it” is in fact no surprise, if you read her whole “story” it makes perfect sense.

    And it solidifies the last few years that started off with doubt as perhaps she couldn’t be so bad and it was just a phase, it shows it was all a lie, and uncovers her reality.  Even some serial killers had “relationships” or even children.  Great Degrees, and jobs.  Some even well liked prior. None of that shadows over the evil of their minds.

    • This reply was modified 4 years, 6 months ago by Cali Chica.
    #317957
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Cali Chica:

    You do know that you were very soft when this woman was in your life, when you were a child. As soft as can be. In the beginning there was no hardness, no anger. Only love, the desire to be with her. The thought of her, the image of her meant the best feeling in the world for you, complete safety. No better feeling.

    Do you remember this?

    anita

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