Guest guest Posted March 31, 2001 Report Share Posted March 31, 2001 " Number two - your description of my childhood/adolescence does not at all match with my memories. You weren't able to guide or discipline me? I was stunned to hear this. No discipline? I felt like you were a dictator - and an irrational one at that. I never knew what to expect, I felt completely at your mercy. I was not a person whose thoughts and feelings were acknowledged – " I have overheard my mother telling people that I was " never like other teenage girls " when I was in high school. Telling stories that other daughters fought with their mothers, but she and I " never fought " and I was always so considerate. Of course what I remember is that the only time the screaming stopped was when she was asleep. My high school boyfriend asked me why she hated me so much but others outside, including my boyfriend, never saw the worst of it. She also blames Dad for about everything and will tell me with a straight face that he is schizophrenic. She used to tell me that he had said he would disown me if I did certain things, like talk to my sister, etc. And I am ashamed to say that I was in my thirties before I realized that this threat was totally of her construction and not from my dad. > Hi all, > > Ahhh, here is another letter I wrote (but never sent). This was composed right > after I found out about BPD, and was in the middle of reading I Hate You, Don't > Leave Me (I don't think I had found SWOE or this list yet). The crisis du jour > was her distortion campaign against my father, the " emotional abuser " . She had > called me up and spent 2 hours telling me about all of the awful things he did > to her, and how he was directly responsible for my childhood & adolescent > problems. I was absolutely dumbfounded, and said nothing but " uh- huh " for the > entire time (while furiously taking notes because I was so afraid I would > forget all of the fantastical things coming out of her mouth). I was > determined to not let her believe I supported her position, but unable to > outright tell her I didn't support her… the end result being weeks of silence > and screening my phone calls to avoid her. I hated myself for my inability to > tell her what I really thought, and that was the motivation behind writing this > letter… a desperate attempt to say how I felt. By the time I got to the end of > I Hate You, Don't Leave Me, and had started on SWOE, though, I realized the > futility of my endeavor, so I didn't send it. The impasse was finally brought > to a head by the fact that a family Thanksgiving was around the corner > (remember that, original list members?), and (as usual) was solved by everyone > agreeing to join in celebrating a denial party. So, here it is… > > << > Dear Mom, > > I am at my wits end trying to figure out how to deal with this situation. I am > certainly not convinced that writing this letter is the best solution, but it > is the best thing I can do right now. > > When we spoke several weeks ago, and you told me that you feel Dad is > emotionally abusing you, I was absolutely devastated. There were many reasons > for this, but probably not the ones you think. Mom, when we talk, I don't feel > free to tell you what I think. This is a pervasive problem in our > relationship. You say you feel excluded from my life. Well, it's no fun to be > in a relationship with someone where you don't get to participate, when it > doesn't matter what you think or feel. You have made it clear that it is > unacceptable to disagree with you. When I do, it turns into a battle of who is > right and who is wrong. Everything is black and white - it is not possible for > two people to disagree and still get along. If I disagree with you I am > attacking you and you must defend yourself (I bet it's what's going on inside > your head -- right now). You must convince me to agree with you, and if that > doesn't work, there is no place for me in your world. (You may strongly > disagree with everything I have just said, BUT if you try to convince me > otherwise, you are invalidating my feelings. They are feelings, they are not > facts. They are not right or wrong, real or unreal. It is simply my > perception and the way that I feel. I am asking you to try to understand the > way I feel.) I am sure you can come up with examples of when we disagreed and > got along, and I'm sure I can come up with examples to the contrary. Please > don't drag me down that road - I don't want to get a letter back listing every > instance since I was born where we disagreed and you still let me do what I > wanted. None of that matters. What matters is that I do not feel safe telling > you how I really feel. My experiences have taught me that - unless I'm on the > same page as you - I will not be heard, I will not be accepted, I will not be > validated. And believe me, I think I have a good understanding of where you > are coming from on this. Not only have I been victimized by this behavior, but > I have inflicted it upon others. You taught me how, and I'm sure your mother > taught you how. I have spent years in therapy trying to dig out and eradicate > these patterns, and I am not done yet. If I was, I wouldn't be writing this > letter. I would be able to talk to you - as an adult without fear - and this > situation would have been handled weeks ago. > > Understand, then, that when we spoke, you unleashed a whirlwhind of thoughts > and emotions, none of which I was able to share with you. I am going to try to > do that now. Again, I am not trying to convince you of facts, just the way I > feel. It may be hard to believe, but two people with different versions and > different feelings about the same event can peacefully coexist on earth. > > I deeply disagree with your interpretation of my childhood - in fact, I take > offense to it. I think we can both agree that I did have a troubled > adolescence, which carried over into adulthood. I was very unhappy much of the > time, and I got into relationships (romantic and otherwise) that were damaging > to me. You stated that you believe this happened because Dad undermined your > authority as a parent - preventing you from offering guidance and discipline. > You said that you feel very guilty about this, but placed the blame squarely on > Dad's shoulders. I could not disagree with you more on this matter. Number > one - I had TWO parents. You were BOTH responsible for my upbringing - the > good and the bad. Number two - your description of my childhood/adolescence > does not at all match with my memories. You weren't able to guide or > discipline me? I was stunned to hear this. No discipline? I felt like you > were a dictator - and an irrational one at that. I never knew what to expect, > I felt completely at your mercy. I was not a person whose thoughts and > feelings were acknowledged - I was simply to do what you wanted or pay the > price. (I find it ironic that you are now accusing Dad of being a control > freak.) You felt unsupported by Dad for a good reason - he was RIGHT to not > support you. He was the lone voice of reason in the household. I actually > knew what to expect from him, instead of feeling like I was at the mercy of a > hurricane, never knowing what direction it would force me in next. And I do > blame Dad - I blame him for not stopping you. You're right to accuse him of > trying to undermine your authority, but you fail to mention that he was > unsuccessful. I have so many memories of him trying to intervene and you > ordering him out of the room. > > It was incredibly devastating to listen to you re-write my life, and for me to > tacitly participate in this revision by not telling you what I thought. You > wanted me to hear your version of events. Well, I cannot let any more time go > by without telling you my side - without telling you how many times I hid in my > room and silently raged - screaming into a pillow, pounding it, crying > uncontrollably - because of you. I hated you. I do not possess in my > vocabulary words to describe the feelings you elicited in me. Think back to > your childhood, and I suspect you may understand. I am in the unique position > of being in sisterhood with my victimizer. I believe, without a doubt, that > you suffered at the hands of your mother everything I have suffered at the > hands of mine. Never having the chance to fully develop my own identity. > Never having that identity accepted. Living in terror of upsetting someone, > anyone. These are the landmines in my life. Not lack of discipline. And > believe me, you did give me plenty of guidance - but it was poisoned, passed > down through the generations. > > But I will not take this legacy you have given me - I refuse to accept it. I > vowed that I would never be like you, that I would never inflict that pain on > my own children. This has been the driving force behind my therapy, behind the > years of hard work behind and ahead of me. It is the driving force behind this > letter. I am determined to break the cycle - it stops here. > > It was equally devastating to sit silently while you levied accusations of > abuse at Dad. You gave many examples of Dad's " abusiveness " . You like to > remove the history from these examples, viewing them as isolated events, him > randomly afflicting himself on you. I see them in a different light. You two > will never agree on everything (no one does). In fact, you are incredibly > different people and disagree on many things. Yet, your inability to accept > disagreement (I honestly believe you view it as insubordination) is inflicted > on everyone you deal with - particularly your family. How frustrating for Dad > to have to suffer that. To openly disagree with you means incredible strife > and battles - it's " your way or the highway " . To agree means selling your > soul, your identity. What kind of person are you if you don't stand for what > you believe in - whether it's what you want for dinner, or how you want to > raise your children. He doesn't tell me this - I know how he feels, because I > feel the same way. I am forced into this struggle every time I interact with > you. Why do you think you haven't seen much of me lately? I am no longer > willing to subsume my own identity, yet I don't have the tools to deal with the > consequences. And now you are forcing my hand. You are not allowing me to > keep the safe distance that I need, so you're gonna deal with the tools I got, > no matter how inadequate. And I think Dad is in the same boat. He is no > longer willing to take the emotional beating you hand out day in and day out, > but he doesn't know how to do anything different. I see these examples of his > so-called abuse as coping mechanisms. He's mad, REALLY MAD, that you don't > listen to him and allow him to be a person separate from you. Someone with a > purpose greater than just shoring up your version of everything. And he > doesn't know what to do about it. Maybe he's expressing it inappropriately, > but the two of you never developed a mechanism for expressing anger > appropriately. Not allowed to disagree, not allowed to be angry - that's the > creed of our household. > > You are hurt because I talk to Dad but not to you. I am responsible for that > because I haven't figured out a way to preserve my identity and our > relationship at the same time. You are responsible because you won't talk to > me without trying to recruit me to " your side " , without trying to convince me > to agree with you. Because you won't listen to me or hear how I feel and what > I think. You talk about Dad having to admit to his role before anything can be > done. Take a look in the mirror, Mom. Everybody is responsible for this, > including you. Dad isn't abusing you -- our whole family is a mess. And we are > all responsible for that. > > So, why am I writing this letter? I hold no hope that you will ever agree with > my point of view - and I know I don't have the right to expect that. Knowing > and doing are two different things, however - I am acutely aware that I > struggle with all the same things I have accused you of. I have fought hard in > this letter (hopefully successfully) against my tendencies to try to convince > you to agree with me. What I want is for you to accept the way I feel - to > accept that we can disagree, to give me your love without requiring that I > agree with you. To stop trying to force me to adopt your reality as my own. > To allow me to be my own person, and to let me share that person with you, not > hide it out of fear. I can't do it the old way anymore, I won't erase myself > to make you happy. But I'm terribly afraid that you won't understand what I'm > trying to say. I have struggled with trying to figure out the best way of > doing this. Do I just keep doing what I've done for my whole life, instead of > risking losing you? I can't - it makes me so unhappy. I can no longer > blithely nod my head and mutter 'uh-huh' when I am screaming out inside. Yet, > I am so afraid of you. I have tried, on so many occasions, to make myself tell > you what I think - and I get sick, physically sick - I shake, sweat and think > I'm going to vomit. I am so deathly afraid of the consequences that my body > takes control and refuses to allow me to follow through. Do you see the > position I'm in? I can no longer behave like I used to, yet I have no new > behavior to fill the hole. I have agonized over sending this letter. I must > say these things to get on with my life, but what will the result be? You > won't understand me - you'll view every word in this letter as an attack, and > you must defend yourself. Will you cut me out of your life? I don't know > what's going to happen, but I can't go back, I must forge blindly forward. > This letter is the only thing I can think to do. > > So, I fear that you will view this letter as a savage attack on you, and I can > understand why you would feel that way. I have said some very harsh things. > They were necessary. It has become vitally important to explain how I feel - > whether you understand those feelings or not. I have to accept that the > explanation alone is therapeutic. It does not have to be heard to be real, but > it does have to be said. So, this letter is not meant as an attack. You want > a connection with me? You got it - but this is what it comes with. It won't > be all on your terms, me always supporting your version of reality. It will be > me and you as people - on equal terms. The way you feel is important, the way > I feel is important. And if I don't agree with you, it doesn't mean that I > don't love you. It doesn't mean that you don't exist, or that you're wrong, or > less important than me. And I would ask for the same respect from you. I > don't know if you can do that. I don't know if I can do that. But we have to > try. > > It may be difficult to understand now, but the following statements can coexist > with everything I've said in this letter: You are my mother. I am your > daughter. You have done many wonderful things for me. You have played a large > part in who I am today, and despite all of my flaws I think I'm a wonderful > person - and that reflects on you. I love you deeply, and I desperately want > to have a good relationship with you. It hurts me terribly that you are alone > and suffering right now. Me not agreeing with you does not mean you have to be > alone. I don't want you to be alone, but you have to leave space in our > relationship for the way I feel - and you have to respect it. > > Mom, I don't know what comes next (remember, I'm forging blindly ahead?). You > may never speak to me again. You may call me up and scream at me (I don't know > if I could take that). You may write a letter that resembles a legal defense to > all that I have said (please don't). You may call me up and tell me you love > me, and we're all going through a tough time right now, but we'll make it - > that we all play a role in this, and let's try to change those roles so we can > be a better family (please do). I don't know what to do Mom - I don't know how > to do this. You're suffering. I'm suffering too. So are Dad and my brother. > I had to tell you these things. I couldn't go on letting them be unsaid. It > doesn't have to be the end. We can make it a beginning if we choose. > >> > > It makes me sad to read this and know that I will likely never be able to share > it with her. That I will never be able to ask for (because she won't hear me), > let alone receive, the things I deserve from her. This is what I am grieving > for… because it's not a beginning for us. I've made it into one for me, but I > have to leave her behind. > > Hugs, > Anon > > P.S. Randi, I remember you were asking for material from Nons, and I know it > may be too late, but you are free to use either of these letters (or excerpts > from them) in your booklet. > > __________________________________________________ > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You are posting as a guest. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.