All her life she wanted boys and she was presented with two girls and the baby she aborts is the boy she always wanted. I think about him often and wonder what our lives would have been like had we a brother. He would have been around 40 now and perhaps he would have been the One she wanted and needs now so desperately as both sisters have reached breaking point.
When your mother opens her mouth to speak and you find yourself cringing, wishing desperately she would eat her words and just remain silent, but no, she must sow her negativity into the depths of the souls around her. Her intelligence must astound everyone and she is to be praised for she flies above all of us. This was her dream, during her days of economic productivity, she would dream that she soared above her staff and they looked up in admiration as she flew over them. She was flying. Retirement killed that dream and she confided that from the day she walked out of her job, she no longer flies. Her aura is dark, depressing and yes, she suffers from depression as do both my sister and myself. Recently I sought therapy, but after two sessions, I began to realize that it is futile to have therapy for the same persisting problem. She isn't going to change, she isn't interested in counting her blessings and worrying is the reason she lives. If you want a reason why something won't work, she will happily supply ten good reason things will flop straight off the top of her head. Her compulsive cleaning and need to control has developed to such an extent, we are deprived of living our own lives and must account for our every action. The idea that we are entitled to our own existence is foreign and weird and this concept meets with her fullest confrontation. In order for her to feel accepted, she must be in full control of all matters surrounding and involving her. At the age of 68, she cusses worse than many men, has a profound love for the word: fuck and when her temper snaps there is no negotiating. She is locked and loaded and will fire without thinking, her words ripping into our souls and tormenting our minds and haunting us. Her will be done.
The list goes on and on, but I am hoping I have sketched a general outlook of what life with my mother is all about, it's not a rose garden, more like a walk through a dessert and there is no relief.
She rules her kingdom of Facebook where she only has artists as her friends and anyone who is anyone are her "friends". Her delusions of grandeur are hers and hers alone. Kindness, caring and love are displayed when she wants something. It's all empty, shallow and meaningless, disappoint her and her wrath will be known. Live with this, love this and then think, if I can do this, there is nothing I can not do. This is where the armor of God really helps me. The helmet of Salvation reminds me that I am a child of God and that His love is unconditional, His acceptance is pure and unique. I have trust issues, understandable, but now I need to trust in God. Trust in the power of the Universe and if it's not in my hands, then know the matter lies in God's hands and He is attending to it. The full understanding of the meaning of Salvation is my current journey. The breastplate of righteousness. Not self righteousness, but doing the right thing. Making decisions not based on self, but on what is required and good for others, being honorable and kind. If we make the right choices, we won't have our enemies breathing down our necks and have our hearts ripped out. Wearing truth works for me, I have no time to remember lies and no time to play games, this is the main reason she moved out of my house. Truth Vs Lies is no game for a liar! The sword which is God's word that is the life of Jesus Christ sends her into retreat and makes her hate me even more. The peace that I walk in drives her crazy and she is constantly examining ways to destroy our peace of mind and disrupt our thinking. This is her choice. In all honesty, on behalf of myself as well as my family, we respect this, but you speak your mind on your own time, not on mine. I have a right to grow old gracefully and happily, but how to achieve this when there is a constant darkness that demands our attention and our time. Mothers are supposed to be unconditional love and all acceptance and they suppose to hug and be reassuring....but when a mother is a narcissist, peace is not in her vocabulary.
So the truth is that the only grace in me, is the love of Jesus. He has stood beside me, guiding me all my life and He has carried me when I have failed to find the strength to move myself. When your mother tells you that you are a piece of shit, the idea that we are wonderful, precious, required gifts, becomes hard to swallow. So time and time again, I find myself flat, broken and beyond despair, I lowered my guard and let her in to my mind. If we think we going to survive without putting on the armor of God we are delusional, if we think God is an old concept and does not apply to us in this modern day technology world of apps and craps, God is required now more than ever. He will change your life and your circumstances and He will give you peace. My mother makes her own choices, her happiness is determined by herself. It is a loss for which there are no words, this state of condemnation and constant criticism is her choice. I have one life to live and I want the very best I can get out of my life. I want the best for my children, my home and my pets and I want love, joy and happiness. What do you want?
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