Saturday, November 18, 2006

I Hate My Mommy

Today I experience a revival of active loathing for my Nmother. Today I hate her. Again. I hate the long decades of my life where I believed the opposite to be true of her. I hate my gullibility that induced me to stay in her life where she could continue her soft abuse of me and my dear daughter.

What I used to believe about my Nmother:

All other people may be liars, but she could be relied on to never tell a fib.

All other women were likely to be poor at parenting, but my mother was the pinnacle of motherly wisdom and a font of knowledge for parenting advice.

She would admit to being able to control others, but none were more self-controlled than she in her ability to never be controlling.

She was the personified exemplification of peace. Never a raised voice in her home was proof of this claim.

Now I know with painful acuity that every one of her claims above was the diametric opposite of reality.

Indeed, if anyone in the room is a liar it is she. Lies are her stock-in-trade. She lies with such alacrity that one is likely to believe the lies....for who would lie about such things? Who could lie so glibly without a hitch in her breath or a blink of an eye?

How was I ever fooled into believing her to be the pinnacle of motherly virtue and child-rearing expertise???!!! I was on the receiving end of her so-called ability for years! I have personally received her motherly "ministrations" until I made my escape at age 17. My life was often a living hell with her. I guess I have this as living proof of her adeptness at brainwashing that she convinced me for years that all the fault was in me and not her. What I loathe the most about her is that thing that evokes my greatest self-loathing: that I allowed her unfettered access to my daughter when she was so young and defenseless. I hate us both (Nmom and I) for that. I hate that I swallowed all her lies and believed her words over my personal experience. I discounted what I saw with my own eyes, heard with my own ears, felt in my own body in favor of what the false reality of her creation. My only consolation is that she had more accountability when dealing with my daughter....she was not able to carry out her more cruel methods as were exercised on me as a child. Nevertheless, how fervently I wish I had left at age 17 and never consented to ever again lay eyes on my evil mother. How did I ever trust her to be different than what I had experienced as a child? I think back at her excessive self-promotion, her claims of success with others' children, her constant insistence at her supreme abilities and I guess I can wonder a little less. She had references! She had many others who sang her could she and everyone else be wrong and me be right? I caved to the majority. I could question myself .... and did. I'd been raised to do so. Never question Nmom or her motivations. Only question yourself. If there is a problem....look at yourself. I learned well at her knee. Prone to submission, I subverted tangible reality for her version of events. My consolation: my daughter understands malignant narcissism now and is unlikely to be abused by another one in her lifetime. She is also free from ever having to lay eyes on her grandmother ever again. Her complete freedom began four years ago at age 20. She got free much sooner than I did.

I have lived for forty-five years now and I can state with absoluteness that I have never met a more controlling person in my life than my own Nmother. How was I fooled into believing she was the opposite? Go back to point number one: All others may be liars, but she was always telling the truth. I simply took her at her word and ignored all evidence to the contrary. To a point. I can look back at my behaviors starting at age 17 and continuing right up to the total break and see how I took measures to limit her ability to control me. Quite successfully. She constantly chafed at her inability to crack my walls erected to keep her nose out of my business, but she had to maintain her facade of not being controlling, so she chafed quietly.

"Blessed are the peacemakers" many years did I believe her claims to be the family peacemaker? Oh, far too many. Now I look back and see how she had her hand in every familial relationship, constantly stirring pots, incessantly creating friction between family members. She was sneaky and underhanded which allowed her to proclaim, "Peace and safety" while "sudden destruction cometh" to each of us in her sphere of influence. 1 Thess. 5:3.

Okay, I think I got this off my chest. I need to forgive myself for being her dupe for so long. When I do, I can stop hating her. Vile, evil bitch.


Anonymous said...

I believed many of the same things.

""Blessed are the peacemakers" many years did I believe her claims to be the family peacemaker?"

When I first heard the scripture from my mother when my brother and I were in a fight I thought what the?! She was the one that made things a nightmare lol.

Lol she blamed my brother and I for bringing hate into the home. She made our little fights much worse. Kinda of funny but when she was not around my brother didn't fight that much and when we did it lasted a little then was over most of the time.

I believed that she never lies.
I believed that she was a wonderful mother. (Off and on)
I believed that she was unselfish and giving while I was a selfish brat for not being grateful enough.
I believed that she was right and I was wrong (off and on).

Off and on:

I sometimes didn't believe that and sometimes I did.

It is weird this constant nagging feeling that something is wrong. I had it since I could remember. There is definitely a sixth sense. Off and on throughout my childhood I knew it was mom and then I went back to pretend mode. Pretending everything was alright and she was great.

It is amazing how much I believed. It was the same for my religion I pushed things that weren't quite right into the back of my head and forgot them for awhile. I have a bad habit.

Anonymous said...

This is something I struggle with as well, it angers me so! My husband tried to tell me early on in our marriage how bad my mother was, but I refused to listen, thinking he just didn't like her (brainwashing maybe? delusion? co-dependency?) I don't know. But I like you Anna, was nearing 40 before I got my mother's number. It's hard for me to believe I let her get away with mistreating me for so long. I also let my young daughters be around her, and if I could go back and do things over again, would not ever happen.