Lost In The Wilderness

Yesterday was therapy day. The flavor of the day was my relationship with my mother.

Sigh.

I feel so conflicted about my mom – about both of my parents, really. It’s just that the focus is more on my mom because she happens to be alive. Dad has been dead for several years, so there’s really not a lot I can do about my relationship with him.

I feel conflicted because there were so many great things my parents did for me, that really made me a better person. But there were also some really, really bad things that damaged me very badly. Sometimes I felt safe and secure with my parents. At other times, I felt lost in the wilderness without a compass.

Some of the good:

• Providing me and my brother with all of the material necessities of life. Food, shelter, clothing, and all that jazz.
• Ensuring that we got a top-quality education.
• Teaching us some solid values that I am now passing on to my own kids.
• Treating each other with the utmost love and respect, thereby allowing us to grow up knowing what a loving marriage should look like.
• Giving us wise advice and encouraging us to not give up on things that we wanted.
• Giving us opportunities to see the world from a young age.
• Advocating for me during my early years, when I was developmentally delayed and learning disabled.

Some of the bad:

• Incessantly comparing me with my brother and finding me wanting. I grew up feeling like a second-class child, because I was always hearing about how much better than me he was.
• Telling me from the age of twelve that I was fat. I heard this all through my teenage and early adulthood years. I wasn’t fat. And now I’m bulimic.
• Cutting me off from them when they found out I was involved with a married man, without even asking me if I was OK. They didn’t even ask about the bruises.

Recently, my mom broke something that she had given to us as a gift a couple of years ago. It was something that did not have any monetary value, but it had a lot of sentimental meaning for us. On a recent visit, she saw this item in what she thought was a forgotten place.

Most parents would have either asked about it (Hey, why is thing here and not there?) or at the very least, they would have just let it go. Most parents would NOT have assumed that they had the right to break it.

My mom broke it. Deliberately, intentionally, with the purpose of us not having it anymore. When I told her that we had actually liked this item and placed a lot of emotional value on it, she didn’t care. She didn’t even apologize. When we told her we were going to try and get it fixed, she told us that she didn’t want us to. As if it was her decision to make.

The second worst thing I feel is the sense of violation. This item was not hers to break. She may have been the one to give it to us, but once she gave it to us, it became ours. She had no right to destroy something that belonged to us.

The worst thing I feel, though, is the renewed sense of abandonment. Due to some of the actions of my parents as I have navigated my way through life, I have an intense fear of being abandoned. I am genuinely afraid of being lost and alone and bewildered. And this latest action on the part of my mom brings that fear rushing to the surface.

I feel as if my mom has once again emotionally forsaken me.

And it’s a feeling that really sucks.