Mothers Day

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”
Washington Irving

I’ve always felt an odd dynamic about this holiday, after my own Mom passed away in 2001, it felt unusual that my family would celebrate me. I suddenly felt like the matriarch of my own family (even though my Mother-in-law was still with us.)

My own Mom was such a strong domineering personality, and influence. She’d done so many things in her lifetime. I just felt that I could never accomplish as much as she had, in my lifetime. I though she was a good mom. She raised 6 children, she wasn’t perfect, she was human..I did love her, honor her, and respect her always, not just on a holiday.

I do feel that I was a better parent however. I tried to be more present for my children. I know we did many things for them, and with them.We tried to be guiding and giving..and we Love them.

As adults, I thought we had a friendship though we’re still always parents first. I feel I still have a friendship with one of them. I don’t know what happened to change that for, and with the other.

I feel strangely alone on this Mother’s Day. My oldest daughter stopped all communication with us. My younger daughter remembered me, but didn’t call because she was ill, she said: “after making poor choices last night.” So, my husband will take me out for dinner and I guess that will have to be enough.

Mother’s Day, my thoughts on it have evolved in time.I actually like being remembered on this day, and always. May we love, honor, respect, remember,and celebrate our Mother’s, and those would be Mothers, that acted as positive influences, step in Moms, guides, and more in our lives. Happy Mother’s Day!
#MothersDay #Family #FamilyAndFriends #alone

“You have problems.” That was the last text message that my mother sent me. It was after she kicked me out for talking about my wife in front of her while on a week long visit to family back in NY.

It’s absolutely not the last time I’ve heard her voice in my head.

It’s there constantly. The shame and guilt I feel are whispered on a constant repeat in a voice that sounds just like hers.

I have been in trauma intensive treatment for my CPTSD for about a year now.

Today, I’m using one of the exercises I was taught by my therapist when I just couldn’t talk about my present without my mother’s voice interfering.

It’s a container exercise. I am imagining putting my mother’s last text to me, her voice guilting me about not calling her today, her voice shaming me about not having kids of my own yet, and all the other trash my head fills with, and I’m putting it into my “Peace Box.”

That’s what I call the box I imagine putting all of these negative thoughts into. My Peace Box is black, made of steel, has a dead bolt, a number key lock pad, and has chains around it keeping it shut with a heavy duty padlock on it. I do my best to imagine putting all of the negativity from my mom’s voice in my head into this box, put the imaginary box in a hole I “dug” in my yard, and walking away from it all. Leaving all the negativity inside of my Peace Box so that I can have…peace.

#peace #CopingTips

Her voice as a 75-year-old woman is shriveled. Smaller. Crouched on the floor. She says nothing of import. She hears nothing of consequence. She eats. She sleeps. She ambles.

I am aware of her through my niece’s routine—preparing her meals and taking her on walks. I am reminded often that her old age care costs lots of money. But I take these tidbits of news and stack them on a high shelf amongst the tattered memories of childhood I prefer not to peruse too often.

She takes up space in a tiny corner of my mind. It’s small but goddammit, still there. I am grown. I am mostly whole again. I am tethered to this frail time in my life that has ironically made me strong.

My mother hovers over me, a ghosted memory wrapped around a fragile-bodied woman still existing in my family orbit—distant as they are. They are alien—unknown to me but certain in their invasion of my world.

#MothersDay #adultsurvivor #CPTSD #ComplexPTSD #Trauma #Childhood trauma

Mother's Day is right around the corner. The ads have already started and the stores are already full of gifts.

Mother's Day is a holiday meant to celebrate all your mother has done for you and how she is your number one support but what happens when that is not the case?

Mother's Day can be difficult and triggering for so many children and adult children due to a variety of reasons.

Read my latest blog to learn how you can take care of your emotional well-being during this time.

How to Cope When Mother's Day and Father's Day are Difficult...

#MothersDay #ToxicRelationships #abusivemothers #toxicmothers

Because both social & mainstream media have wore the word out, I don’t like to use the word “trigger” often, but when it comes to my mom there is no more appropriate word to use than to say she is, and always has been, one of my biggest triggers. Along wt the fact that I have made some major mother blunders of of my own in the past makes Mother’s Day sorta’ touchy for me.

My mom has always wanted nothing more than to be a great mom, & to give her kids a better life than the one she had growing up. Her intentions have always been extremely pure, it is her actions that cause problems. She has, & always has had, untreated mental illness including EXTREME anxiety, & then depression after her dad died when I was 9. Her “go to” emotion when she is anxious, overwhelmed, confused or sad is angry, so she has just been extremely angry my entire life. Although I have 4 brothers, she very openly directs the vasy majority of that anger at me. It definitely has some psychological thing to do wt her seeing herself in me, & she hates herself, so yeah. For most of my life we could never get along bc she was always yelling at me & berating me for one thing or another. I was a great kid, straight A’s, teacher’s pet, in the Gifted program, band, etc., but all she ever did was yell at me about how hateful & disrespectful I was. I was always grounded for something, & yes physical punishment was implemented regularly for pissing her off for looking at her wrong or whatever.

Once I turned 18, graduated & moved out, we finally could get along. But by this point I was SO extremely messed up mentally & emotionally. Fast forward 12 years, my world was falling apart, I left my addict husband who was ruining our family wt his addiction; I wanted better for our 2 kids, but by this time I had developed a drinking problem. My parents kindly let me & the kids live wt them while I tried to get us on our feet, but my mom treated me like I was 16 again, & constantly hounded me, talked down to me, & nitpicked me about everything I did, down to how wrinkled a child’s shirt my be for school, to how late I slept on the weekends. Ultimately, the morning before my 30th bday we had a HUGE blowout. In her extremely dramatic fashion, she called the cops om me bc she was “afraid” of me. When the police arrived they said that since I appeared to be no threat, they couldn’t arrest me, but since I appeared to be in mental distress, I COULD REQUEST they take me to a mental facility. I knew what I needed. I asked that they take me. I got money for the next week’s daycare fee & left it for my mom, & left with the police.

A couple of days in at the mental hospital I was doing great & knew I had made the right decision to get care. I was feeling positive about where my life would go once I got out & could go home & start healing. Then a CPS worker came in & interviewed me. The day I left to the hospital my mom immediately called CPS on me. She said she had hoped they would contact me & let me know someone had made a report, & that would basically “scare me straight.” That she didn’t know (somehow) I was getting help at the hospital, & that CPS would revoke my parenting rights, & my right to sleep in the same house wt my kids while they investigated my abilities as a parent.— I was SO devastated when I was told everything by CPS. My kids are my universe, & without them I am empty. The case investigation lasted 7 months, & although it was closed wt no wrong- doings found against me, it was the worst & most difficult time in my life.

During the 7 month period of my investigation my relatives wt my mom was obviously completely shattered, but she had me wrapped around her finger bc she had my kids. The worst incident wt her was when she decided to come “check” on me at my brother’s house to see if I was drinking & I was, & was also wt a guy. She went absolutely batsht & scared the life out of the poor, sweet guy I was wt. She stood on the lawn yelling at me about how horrible & helpless I was, then recruited my younger brother to come do the same. Yelling at me repeatedly that if I cared about my kids, I wouldn’t be how I was. That was the night I tried to take my own life. Many years later when I told my mom I tried to kill myself that night, she scoffed & said, “OH. So now you are trying to make ME feel guilty for that??” And looked at me like she could kill me.

Today, my mom is there, as always, to help wt any and everything for everyone. We get along better, but she still has an extremely short fuse wt me. I just have changed my ways of reacting to her. I feel sad for her bc I can only imagine how miserable it must be being so miserable all the time, but I also get irritated bc I know she knows how to get help. I did NOT plan on writing all that I wrote, but it just came pouring out. It is very difficult in the real world to complain much about the person who does so much for you, even though on the other hand she’s done so much damage.

I am SURE there are others out there today whose moms are their triggers, and THAT is why I began making this post, bc I know someone can relate. #MothersDay #AnxietyTriggers