Thursday, October 11, 2012

No One Understands

It happened again today.  I was at work and began telling a coworker how much my mother hates me.  Before I could finish my sentence, she shook her head, rolled her eyes, and said, "You all need to seek God about this." I mentally kicked myself in the arse for once again, thinking that someone would "get it".

My coworker is great.  She is a shoulder to cry on, one of the people I go to to whine about my marriage or complain about my weight gain.  I can tell her everything and she usually gets it, but talking about my mother gains me no sympathy from her, or just about anyone else.  Can I blame them?  Is it their fault that society and maybe even nature has dictated that mothers can do no wrong, or at least no wrong great enough that their daughters would not longer want to have a relationship with them?

I am sick of it, really I am.  As stated in previous posts, I have been going through the drama with my mother for about the last ten years.  I have been through the range of emotions: guilt, sadness, anger, frustration, confusion, and on and on.  This month I am back to anger, but not a raging confused anger, but an anger that is controlled and knowing.  I KNOW that my anger will get me nowhere.  It will not make my mother love me anymore.  It will not make her stop calling child protective services on me.  It isn't going to make her ask for my forgiveness.  But it is my anger, and I have the right to it.

There are many reasons mothers hate their daughters...but at the very core, when you dig through all the psychological layers and the outward manifestations I believe there are really only two reasons a mother would hate her child and those are JEALOUSY and a NEED TO BE IN CONTROL.  Jealousy comes from unfulfilled desires, a feeling of not being enough, fear, and wanting what another has. The need to control usually comes from one who at some point has felt out of control.  It comes from one who has been controlled.  It is the desire to manipulate circumstances and people, for in so doing the controller feels safe and strong.

My mother hates me.  I am sure of it now.  At one point, not long ago, I made myself feel fuzzy inside by thinking, "She loves me in her own (weird) way."  She.Loves.Me. It felt good.  It was not a lovely feeling, but it was doable and made her more human.  However, due to some recent vindictive happenings I have now come to the conclusion that she hates me. She.Hates.Me.

She hates me.  Somehow this feels right.  It is simplistic, and may be only half true, but it works for me right now.  With this new discovery I have been feeling a renewed desire to tell people about my mother.  I mistakenly thought that if I could confidently tell people my mother hates me, I was sure they would accept it at face value.  There would be no need to explain in detail how she insinuates to my children that I am a bad mother.  I would not have to explain how my mother refuses to acknowledge any of her wrongdoing.  There is no need to explain that someone hates you...or so I thought.

I imagine you are here because you, like me, have had very little success in finding a sympathetic ear.  Every time you try to express how you feel you are shot down with a certain look, a clucking tongue, a roll of the eyes.  You are made to be the perpetrator of great evil, when in fact, you are the victim.  I know how frustrating it is.  At times it feels hopeless; you throw your hands up in defeat and accept that you will always be the bad guy.  Why is it that no one understands?

Well, they do not understand because they have never been through it.  They do not understand because they have never had their mother tell lies on them.  They do not have mothers who plot against them.  They may have the random disagreement with their mothers or a misunderstanding that quickly subsides when one calls the other asking for forgiveness.  They are not hated, so they will never understand.

I have no real jewels this post.  I am just getting some things off my chest.  My mother, when challenged by me, begins to pull out all the stops to sabotage my life.  She becomes a crazed witch when I dare to defy her commands or desires.  When I stand on my own two feet, it is then she shows me very clearly how much she cannot stand me.  Stay tuned...