I had another stellar conversation with my mother today. C and I get back from camping Wednesday morning and I told her I had an appointment at 3pm Wednesday afternoon. Rather than just saying alright she decided to make a rather discouraging, and somewhat offensive comment.
Are you going to see that quack until the day you die? You know, the majority of people only see someone for 6 weeks, and if they aren’t better at the end of it, well too bad for them.
I was caught completely off guard honestly and didn’t really have much of a reply other than to ask her why it mattered. She of course refused to answer.
Thinking about it now, I would’ve liked to say that yes, I may be seeing him until the day I die, because the day I die might be closer than you think. Of course, I didn’t say that–a good, obedient child never would–I, as usual, said nothing.
I’ve come to the glaring realization that my primary role in this family is to remain quiet until the day I die.
This latest comment comes on the heels of another conversation we had not so long ago regarding my use of antidepressants. She doesn’t understand why I need to take them at all. There’s nothing wrong with you to be taking those, you aren’t depressed. Well, my doctor doesn’t entirely agree with you dear mother, so I’m going to stick with the advice of a medical professional for now.
These conversations so often leave me feeling that there just isn’t any point in carrying on anymore. If you don’t have the support of those who are supposed to love you unconditionally, will all the hard work of therapy even make a difference? I know sometimes we go backwards but it feels so much more than 2 steps. It’s more like decades in the wrong direction.
What is a person supposed to do when those with all the power have always hurt the ones with none? I’m just so tired of it all. Life is hard enough without family making it even harder.
Sometimes, I wonder what it’s going to be like when she dies. Will I finally be free? Will I learn that it’s okay to use my voice? But let’s be totally honest about it–I’m not entirely sure I will outlive my mother if things continue the way they are. Only time will tell I suppose.
It Feels Complicated 
I can really relate to your post here. Firstly, you’re clearly handed a script: the narrative for your life. My therapist once pretended to be my parents handing me a book about myself, full of their ideas about who I am – or should be – and then he switched seats and pretended to be me receiving it, looking for a different narrative than the one I was given.
So many people would have plenty to say to your Mum about her ideas of your health and therapy! Many, many people (dare I suggest a large majority, close to 100%!) would disagree with her. So I’m glad you do.
But I also get that awful way that some people, perhaps especially mothers, can drain us so quickly and so completely. And the hopelessness that you’re left with is brutal. But… I do strongly believe it’s possible to become free of that; to stand firm and strong and perfectly able, without being so affected like you used to be.
I hate it when I’m asked how long I’ll be in therapy for, or whether I’m still going… in a why the hell ARE you still going? Kind of a way. But don’t let that knock you. I think is great you go, great you’ve got a good therapist on your side, and great that you journal what you’re going through for people like me who can relate to every word. 🤗
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Thanks love. T thinks she’s controlling and that it would be best for her to seek her own therapy. I literally laughed out loud at that one–she thinks they’re all crazy and only want your money. Uggggh mothers!
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My husband had said those EXACT same words about therapists!
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Some people just really suck sometimes!
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It’s got to be a lack of understanding, I would hope?!
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Actually, scrap that. Some people do sometimes just suck.
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❤
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And that right there, that interaction, shows us exactly why you are still in therapy… if an adult mother still thinks it’s ok to speak to you like that, then I can only imagine how bad it must have been growing up. My mum has mellowed loads of the years. I am so sorry you have to experience this level of shit. Ugh. Sending you so much love. It’s really not you, it’s the toxic shit you’ve had to deal with. x
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I’m so glad your mom has mellowed for you. It’s ridiculous really that she feels so worthy of gratitude when she is so disrespectful of how other people feel. One day I hope to be strong enough to just say fuck it and walk away from her not feeling bad about it.
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That’s horrible of her to say crap like that. If she had been an effective mother and protected her child like mothers are supposed to do, then you probably wouldn’t need therapy until the day you die.
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Right!! But if you were to ask her she sacrificed everything for us and we’re just ungrateful. I can’t even most days.
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Ugh
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ugh, I literally feel your pain — it’s why I’ve never told my parents I’m in therapy. literally everyone else in the world knows, but not them. ❤
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That’s smart. I wish she’d never found out. It’s so much easier when I’m not on holidays because I can just slip out of work early, be home at the usual time and it have to worry about it.
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I could say all the cliche things about that conversation only says something about her, not you, but I know it won’t help. So, I’ll just say from experience that learning to lie to your family of origin to protect yourself is entirely justified in some cases. And this is one of them.
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That’s definitely something I need to work on. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her kind of thing.
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