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Xantippe
Guest
Oh my goodness.
- Status
U
UbiCaritas
Guest
This, especially the second paragraph.
I didn’t have this kind of situation with my parents, but I did with a woman who was a lot like a mother to me when I was a teenager. She was a sweet, good person. The problem was that she was desperate to be needed, to the point where she would use any minor issue I might mention to escalate the drama so that I’d “need” to lean on her. Likewise, she liked to take a very dictatorial tone about the smallest decisions, or about ones that were patently none of her business, such as purchasing vehicles/going on vacation/etc.
I found it best to distance myself from her, and to see her much, much less frequently. I also took perhaps one out of every 2-3 calls, and responded somewhat belatedly to a lot of texts. When I did have contact, I was vaguely positive about every issue–“DH’s work is going well, DD is a good baby,” etc. The separation stung a little at the time, but felt much better once I no longer felt that I, as an adult, had to be accountable to her and/or face long, drawn-out discussion or criticism of every single decision DH and I made. I likened it to withdrawal from an unhealthy substance: difficult and strange and someone painful at first, and much better and clearer afterwards.
D
DarkLight
Guest
Don’t you see…you’re putting forward solutions, saying set boundaries, like I haven’t already done that. That’s what kicked this whole mess off. I don’t tell them things? Fine, that’s the new fight. I hang up, or walk off, when they cross the boundaries, well, that’s going to be the fight next time. And don’t forget - everything will be attributed to my temper. No matter how calm I am it’s going to be labelled “storming off.” The only way to have things not be a fight between me and my mother is to cut my entire family out of my life - and I’m not ready to do that.
And yes, a little bit of approval would be nice. By every metric I know, I’m a failure. 26 year old girls aren’t supposed to have to make the choices I’ve made. You’re not supposed to have to choose at my age between having a job and getting medical care at my age. You’re not supposed to have to spend half your day focusing on eating just to get enough down while doctors can’t tell you what’s wrong - if they take you seriously at all. They’re not supposed to be sitting around doing nothing but playing video games because there’s nothing else to do except hope the next treatment might actually help and not make you want to die. They’re not supposed to not have friends because they can’t actually get to anything where they might meet other people. They’re not supposed to be afraid of meeting other people anyways because they’re faced with the choice between being seen as a crazy person or a lazy kid, because sweet little girls aren’t supposed to have PTSD.
Welcome to my choices. Do I think I did the best I could with what I knew and what I had? For the most part, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m not keenly aware that I’m doing nothing but eating up resources, and that there’s no sure way to change that right now. It’s a big world and it’s one that by and large has no place in it for people like me - I really would like to at least have a family there. Sure as hell isn’t much else that cares at all.
And yes, a little bit of approval would be nice. By every metric I know, I’m a failure. 26 year old girls aren’t supposed to have to make the choices I’ve made. You’re not supposed to have to choose at my age between having a job and getting medical care at my age. You’re not supposed to have to spend half your day focusing on eating just to get enough down while doctors can’t tell you what’s wrong - if they take you seriously at all. They’re not supposed to be sitting around doing nothing but playing video games because there’s nothing else to do except hope the next treatment might actually help and not make you want to die. They’re not supposed to not have friends because they can’t actually get to anything where they might meet other people. They’re not supposed to be afraid of meeting other people anyways because they’re faced with the choice between being seen as a crazy person or a lazy kid, because sweet little girls aren’t supposed to have PTSD.
Welcome to my choices. Do I think I did the best I could with what I knew and what I had? For the most part, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m not keenly aware that I’m doing nothing but eating up resources, and that there’s no sure way to change that right now. It’s a big world and it’s one that by and large has no place in it for people like me - I really would like to at least have a family there. Sure as hell isn’t much else that cares at all.
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Xantippe
Guest
That presupposes your family being totally different than it is.
You can’t make your family be supportive if they’re not.
Even given your difficult circumstances, your odds of finding support elsewhere are much higher than your odds of transforming your controlling, volatile, manipulative mom into a sit com mom.
D
DarkLight
Guest
Look back at the original purpose of the thread. What I’m trying to say is…I know I’m not going to get the support I want from her. I know what I need to do. But that doesn’t mean, especially with my options being as limited as they are, that I know how to stop desiring a relationship I can’t create, even to the point of it being very painful for me. And that’s what I was looking for advice on - not what to do with my mother, but how to handle the fact that no matter what I do this is going to be very painful for me, and at least in the short term enforcing boundaries more is only making it more painful for me.
You can say, don’t talk to her, if it hurts - but that doesn’t stop finding yourself crying over the holidays watching all your friends talk about the wonderful time they seeing their families. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel that pain equally keenly every time I have to end a conversation because the boundary that’s been in place for years now is still being crossed. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt that I feel like she’s damaging my relationship with my father as well and I can’t talk to him and not her.
You can say, don’t talk to her, if it hurts - but that doesn’t stop finding yourself crying over the holidays watching all your friends talk about the wonderful time they seeing their families. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel that pain equally keenly every time I have to end a conversation because the boundary that’s been in place for years now is still being crossed. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt that I feel like she’s damaging my relationship with my father as well and I can’t talk to him and not her.
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Xantippe
Guest
That’s too bad about your dad.
Can you be a little bit more strategic about when you call so as to reach him and not her, or is that feasible?
C
cuore
Guest
Hello friend
I can only speak from my own experience. My father, for example, was and is a very difficult person to please. He has his own ideas, thoughts, opinions about what life should look like for me and my siblings. He was raised at a young age to help provide for his own siblings, so the mentality was just different. Today, he still thinks that if things aren’t done his way, they’re wrong. That’s just the way he is and, to be honest, he won’t change it. Believe me, I tried!
There is a saying that goes, “If you can’t change the situation, change the way you think about it.” So, maybe it’s not your parents approval your looking for, maybe it’s that you need to believe your decisions are your own and are there to help you grow and learn. From my own history, my mistakes might not have been fabulous, but they did help to make me better in the long run. I personally believe, through my own observations that mistakes only helped me improve myself more so then the successes. So, just take their advice, tell them “thank you very much, I’ll consider it.” then consider it and make your own decision.
I hope that helps, friend.
I can only speak from my own experience. My father, for example, was and is a very difficult person to please. He has his own ideas, thoughts, opinions about what life should look like for me and my siblings. He was raised at a young age to help provide for his own siblings, so the mentality was just different. Today, he still thinks that if things aren’t done his way, they’re wrong. That’s just the way he is and, to be honest, he won’t change it. Believe me, I tried!
There is a saying that goes, “If you can’t change the situation, change the way you think about it.” So, maybe it’s not your parents approval your looking for, maybe it’s that you need to believe your decisions are your own and are there to help you grow and learn. From my own history, my mistakes might not have been fabulous, but they did help to make me better in the long run. I personally believe, through my own observations that mistakes only helped me improve myself more so then the successes. So, just take their advice, tell them “thank you very much, I’ll consider it.” then consider it and make your own decision.I hope that helps, friend.
U
UbiCaritas
Guest
In the short term, enforcing boundaries/limiting contact as necessary (ie, by delaying returning a phone call/replying to a text/etc) is more painful. In the longer, it gets better.
I think I’ve mentioned my background to you before, but just in case I haven’t, let me summarize so you can see where I’m coming from. I have no contact with either of my parents.
My mother is an alcoholic who may have some sort of sociopathic/NPD thing going on. She has spent much of her kids’ lives doing her best to sabotage any good thing that might happen to them, she shows no remorse for doing some objectively pretty bad things (think committing identity theft with her own daughters’ information in order to commit tax fraud in their names), and though she is outwardly very religious, she uses religion only as another tool in her arsenal of manipulation. I have never, even as a small child, had a good relationship with her.
My father is extremely self-centered and has no concept of basic courtesies unless they align with his immediate whims and desires. He was emotionally and verbally abusive, and has this idea that the world was out to get him by expecting him to conform to commonly-accepted standards of practice in his field. He is almost certainly clinically depressed. I was always much closer to him than to my mother, and until we cut off contact, I would call him twice a week or so to talk and catch up.
My husband and I cut off all contact with them after some egregiously inexcusable behavior on their part connected to our wedding. (Lest I sound like Bridezilla, I should mention that their behavior then was the culmination of years of bad behavior and refusal to respect boundaries or basic social conventions.) I do not miss my mother, and I only miss the facet of my relationship with my father that was the fact that he was someone who knew me from the time I was born.
Most days, however, there is at least one moment when I feel a twinge of regret for what I’ve never had: kind, loving parents. Now that I’ve had our daughter, this has become a much bigger deal. They don’t even know she exists, and that’s as it should be. They’re dangerous. I don’t want them to know her, or know of her. But no matter how warm and welcoming my husband’s family is–and they are–they’ll never be my parents. I’ll never have a relationship where I can call my mom and tell her what DD’s been up to today, or ask if it’s normal for her to fill three diapers a day while teething, or go shopping, or any of the myriad of idyllic mother-and-daughter things that I could (and do) wish for. Likewise, I’ll never have a dad who I can call and talk to about family history, or who can take his granddaughter out to play catch.
Holidays are worse than other times, for obvious reasons.
When I was single, I dealt with this by getting out of myself as much as possible. I kept fairly busy with classes and activities. I learned (and oh Lord, was it hard!) how to start making friends, and then made a point of arranging to see them frequently. At the holidays, I’d make a list of people I knew who might like baked treats. I tried to figure out who in my circle of friends and acquaintances had little or no family, and tried to make their Christmases as special as possible with a gift (not expensive, I was a broke college student–think a hand-knitted scarf and a homemade cake, that kind of thing). I hosted little parties at my apartment. They weren’t anything fancy, just some snacks and hot cider, but I got the impression that people really enjoyed them. I’d pick someone who seemed to be having a hard time, and have them over to dinner. I also always put up a tree for both me and them to enjoy. Getting out of myself as much as I could was the best thing for me. Sitting in my apartment alone with little to do made me focus on the negatives to the exclusion of all else, and I’d pretty quickly get into a death spiral of really bad thinking if I didn’t focus outside myself more.
There were still some bad times, but I found that when they hit, if I was willing to try to bring them to Jesus and Mary that they’d ease a little. Not all the way, but enough to get through that bad spot.
Mourning what you don’t have and won’t have is important, and seems to me to be a very long and ongoing process. It’s okay to mourn. Be gentle with yourself.
Lastly, some mental distance might help you. Back then, I did have some contact with my parents. I would treat them kindly and lovingly and with the focus solely on my behavior, as though their’s didn’t matter. After a while, I got enough of a protective “shell,” if you will, that I could have a polite conversation with either of them without wanting to strike out at them verbally for their unkindnesses, whether intentional or unintentional. This also kept me from engaging too much with their dysfunction. I tried to think of it as treating them the way a saint would: showing them the love of Christ without necessarily allowing oneself to be used as a punching bag, as much for their sake as for mine.
I hope that helps. I can see that you’re in a lot of pain, and wish very much that I had a quick fix for it. God and Mary keep you safe.
I think I’ve mentioned my background to you before, but just in case I haven’t, let me summarize so you can see where I’m coming from. I have no contact with either of my parents.
My mother is an alcoholic who may have some sort of sociopathic/NPD thing going on. She has spent much of her kids’ lives doing her best to sabotage any good thing that might happen to them, she shows no remorse for doing some objectively pretty bad things (think committing identity theft with her own daughters’ information in order to commit tax fraud in their names), and though she is outwardly very religious, she uses religion only as another tool in her arsenal of manipulation. I have never, even as a small child, had a good relationship with her.
My father is extremely self-centered and has no concept of basic courtesies unless they align with his immediate whims and desires. He was emotionally and verbally abusive, and has this idea that the world was out to get him by expecting him to conform to commonly-accepted standards of practice in his field. He is almost certainly clinically depressed. I was always much closer to him than to my mother, and until we cut off contact, I would call him twice a week or so to talk and catch up.
My husband and I cut off all contact with them after some egregiously inexcusable behavior on their part connected to our wedding. (Lest I sound like Bridezilla, I should mention that their behavior then was the culmination of years of bad behavior and refusal to respect boundaries or basic social conventions.) I do not miss my mother, and I only miss the facet of my relationship with my father that was the fact that he was someone who knew me from the time I was born.
Most days, however, there is at least one moment when I feel a twinge of regret for what I’ve never had: kind, loving parents. Now that I’ve had our daughter, this has become a much bigger deal. They don’t even know she exists, and that’s as it should be. They’re dangerous. I don’t want them to know her, or know of her. But no matter how warm and welcoming my husband’s family is–and they are–they’ll never be my parents. I’ll never have a relationship where I can call my mom and tell her what DD’s been up to today, or ask if it’s normal for her to fill three diapers a day while teething, or go shopping, or any of the myriad of idyllic mother-and-daughter things that I could (and do) wish for. Likewise, I’ll never have a dad who I can call and talk to about family history, or who can take his granddaughter out to play catch.
Holidays are worse than other times, for obvious reasons.
When I was single, I dealt with this by getting out of myself as much as possible. I kept fairly busy with classes and activities. I learned (and oh Lord, was it hard!) how to start making friends, and then made a point of arranging to see them frequently. At the holidays, I’d make a list of people I knew who might like baked treats. I tried to figure out who in my circle of friends and acquaintances had little or no family, and tried to make their Christmases as special as possible with a gift (not expensive, I was a broke college student–think a hand-knitted scarf and a homemade cake, that kind of thing). I hosted little parties at my apartment. They weren’t anything fancy, just some snacks and hot cider, but I got the impression that people really enjoyed them. I’d pick someone who seemed to be having a hard time, and have them over to dinner. I also always put up a tree for both me and them to enjoy. Getting out of myself as much as I could was the best thing for me. Sitting in my apartment alone with little to do made me focus on the negatives to the exclusion of all else, and I’d pretty quickly get into a death spiral of really bad thinking if I didn’t focus outside myself more.
There were still some bad times, but I found that when they hit, if I was willing to try to bring them to Jesus and Mary that they’d ease a little. Not all the way, but enough to get through that bad spot.
Mourning what you don’t have and won’t have is important, and seems to me to be a very long and ongoing process. It’s okay to mourn. Be gentle with yourself.
Lastly, some mental distance might help you. Back then, I did have some contact with my parents. I would treat them kindly and lovingly and with the focus solely on my behavior, as though their’s didn’t matter. After a while, I got enough of a protective “shell,” if you will, that I could have a polite conversation with either of them without wanting to strike out at them verbally for their unkindnesses, whether intentional or unintentional. This also kept me from engaging too much with their dysfunction. I tried to think of it as treating them the way a saint would: showing them the love of Christ without necessarily allowing oneself to be used as a punching bag, as much for their sake as for mine.
I hope that helps. I can see that you’re in a lot of pain, and wish very much that I had a quick fix for it. God and Mary keep you safe.
D
DarkLight
Guest
I think this is what the problem is. I’m in a bad position to be able to get out and do stuff. Classes cost money that I don’t have. Free activities for my age take place in the evening, after the rural route buses have stopped running. I wanted to go to bible study but all of them start at the same time the last bus leaves. I haven’t had much luck finding people to take me places; my roommate tries but he’s always so busy and doesn’t like spending evenings out waiting for me. There’s absolutely nothing within walking distance except one small little store.
This is where I can afford to be right now, but it is awful for having anything to do. And that’s even when I’m not sick or having my schedule completely messed up by health stuff. I’m not really good at sitting around by myself for days on end - eventually I get bored with reading and playing games.
C
cuore
Guest
Darklight,
First of all, I think the Bible study would be a wonderful idea for you. When you have the time, call your parish and ask them about ministry classes and if someone could support you through it. You might be truly awesome and find your calling. God wants you to grow and be the best you can be. He realizes full well what you’ve been up against and wants you to use this as a tool to help you and others. Often times, the pain in our life is actually there to help us in some facet. I’ll pray for your intentions.
X
Xantippe
Guest
Yes, that does sound like the problem.
When my husband and I were in grad school and didn’t have car, we were totally shameless about hustling rides home from other people at the young adult Newman Center reading group. It wasn’t an absolute necessity as there were buses and we could have waited and waited in the dark and freezing cold until one came, but it was way nicer to have a ride and a chat with a fellow class member. I did the same in DC when I was a taking a Polish class by myself, and it was either beg a ride or walk 20 minutes to the metro in the dark. I made one very good friend out of those rides. Maybe see if an older lady from the Bible study would give you a ride? Or if a few would alternate? (Obviously, Bible study or no Bible study, you don’t want some guy you don’t know really well giving you rides.)
Just that alone could socially get you through the winter.
D
DarkLight
Guest
I’ve asked. Part of the problem is so few of the people who attend actually have cars themselves. Most events are run out of the campus ministry and are attended by students - the one I particularly want to go to is aimed at graduate-level women. Most of the attendees live on or near campus and the groups tend to have a problem keeping regular attendees in general. I live pretty far out by most people’s standards and few people are willing to take an extra 40 minute trip.
X
Xantippe
Guest
Bummer.
When can you expect an improvement (or at least a change) in your circumstances?
D
DarkLight
Guest
It really depends on medical stuff. Basically, the biggest issue right now is that every time we try a new med, I get really really sick while my body adjusts. Once that’s stabilized things will be much saner.
R
rayne89
Guest
Not caring? Well it’s a process. What you can work on in believing in yourself and your decisions. I found once I was happy with the decisions I’ve made, I cared much less about others opinions. I get the feeling you have a lot of self doubt. Maybe you’re looking more for encouragement than approval?
My mother has never ever been an emotional support in my life. I have never been able to cry on her shoulder. I have never had the kind of mom that would make me feel better at the end of a rough day. Never ever, not even as a child. I was told I shouldn’t feel the way I do, act the way I do. She disapproves of me -of everything I like, of the way I choose to live. She never listens to me- she waits for me to stop talking so she can tell me what to do, how to feel, how to be. I am closer to my dad and at every turn she has tried to interfere with that relationship. She is totally jealous of any relationship I have. I “survive” encounters with my mother, I do not look forward to them. I stay in contact because of my dad.
So if you think I don’t understand I do. I also am bordering congestive heart failure, have complicated heart defects and crohn’s disease. So I get the I feel like garbage part too. Do you have a spiritual director or a regular confessor? If not I recommend it. You’re going to have to rely on the grace of God and your inner strength. Life does get better. You have to work towards letting go of hoping and wishing for a different kind of mother. If you keep thinking it will be different, if you could just come up with the right words or phrase to get through to her -you’re only setting yourself up for hurt and disappointment. Some people get great mothers and some people don’t. I’m sorry you and I are in the latter group. You can move past it, don’t give up on yourself.
My mother has never ever been an emotional support in my life. I have never been able to cry on her shoulder. I have never had the kind of mom that would make me feel better at the end of a rough day. Never ever, not even as a child. I was told I shouldn’t feel the way I do, act the way I do. She disapproves of me -of everything I like, of the way I choose to live. She never listens to me- she waits for me to stop talking so she can tell me what to do, how to feel, how to be. I am closer to my dad and at every turn she has tried to interfere with that relationship. She is totally jealous of any relationship I have. I “survive” encounters with my mother, I do not look forward to them. I stay in contact because of my dad.
So if you think I don’t understand I do. I also am bordering congestive heart failure, have complicated heart defects and crohn’s disease. So I get the I feel like garbage part too. Do you have a spiritual director or a regular confessor? If not I recommend it. You’re going to have to rely on the grace of God and your inner strength. Life does get better. You have to work towards letting go of hoping and wishing for a different kind of mother. If you keep thinking it will be different, if you could just come up with the right words or phrase to get through to her -you’re only setting yourself up for hurt and disappointment. Some people get great mothers and some people don’t. I’m sorry you and I are in the latter group. You can move past it, don’t give up on yourself.
X
Xantippe
Guest
Yes.
A
aloe
Guest
I like this response. Have you actually told them how it feels when they say those things? For instance, “it makes me feel upset when you say things like that.”
I also wanted a certain family member and I have to have a close relationship and I happily assumed when I shared anything with the individual or visited with them I would be able to have supportive, caring, and warm relationship.
Unfortunately their overriding response was to criticize and parent me (despite being a mature adult with my own family) with their values and tell me how I “should” feel, how I “should” live according to their thoughts at the time, what I “should” do in various aspects of my life with unsolicited advice. I made it clear several times that unsolicited advice wasn’t welcome or appreciated however things never changed. I didn’t even have to say anything for the unsolicited advice to come, just going about my business during visits was fair game for them too.
After years I finally came to the conclusion they are who they are and they are not someone who I can share my life with and expect a friendly, caring, supportive, non critical response. I wanted more but that wasn’t the reality of the situation.
I am still sad about it so I haven’t learned to care less, but I did learn you can’t force someone to be something they are not. This person is the same regardless of what I do or don’t do so I was only causing myself and my family frustration by believing they could (or even would want to) change to have a closer relationship with me. I now keep most of my life private from them and only share highlights from time to time. I still love them very much but expecting them to be someone they are not was not helpful for anyone.
P
phil_at_dayboro
Guest
I understand how you feel, if your parents are old style European, then you will struggle to make them constantly happy, you just need to face this uphill battle and tell them you are an adult and your going to make mistakes, just like they did in their youth, and you need to find your own way, just like they did, and they turned out ok,so why wold’nt you turn out ok as well,
When I upset my mother decades ago, I learnt the art of changing the conversation to things that were of real interest to her, and seemed interested in her weekly activities ,
It often worked,. And made her a coffee etc,
When I upset my mother decades ago, I learnt the art of changing the conversation to things that were of real interest to her, and seemed interested in her weekly activities ,
It often worked,. And made her a coffee etc,
B
Bill_Martin
Guest
Take the time to be extra sure that you’re in the right before making a choice, and if you find that you are, do it and don’t worry. Doesn’t matter what the choice is. If they object, you’ll be better prepared to explain why you did it. That doesn’t mean you should argue; just give your reasons and then let it drop. The hardest thing to do in an argument is stop arguing, but it’s often the best. Once you’ve told them why you think you did the right thing, you’ve done enough. You can’t change their minds for them.
D
DarkLight
Guest
Yes I have, which is why I will never ever say something like that again. It…basically amounted to a bunch more accusations about how if I weren’t so stubborn I wouldn’t be hurt and I needed to not be trying to control what everyone else says. (I’ve noted that “being controlling” is also a pretty favorite accusation against boundaries.)
At this point it’s not about changing my minds, but about dealing with the aftereffects. My mother is pretty resistant to boundaries - I’m certainly trying but it’s very hard when they’re not respected and you have to constantly keep focusing on them. Add to that what I mentioned before, that with my family setup it’s not really possible to interact with my father, or remaining grandparent, and not my mother.
And it’s complicated by the fact that I feel like I end up being the bad guy in the family for trying to enforce normal, sane boundaries. I don’t think it’s intended, but I still feel like there’s often an unfair bias against me for being the child. It’s not insurmountable, but it’s still frustrating when the default response is “Your mother said she just asked you a question and you got mad at her and walked off! You need to go apologize to her.” I can defend myself, but there’s never any attempt to get my side of the story before telling me what I did was wrong.
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