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The Last Words I'll Ever Hear?

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Fadeaway

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So, a bit of background for those who don't know.

My grandmother took me as a child when my mom lost custody due to drug addiction. She was resentful about and was emotionally abusive to me as a result. She would make frequent complaints about how she "already did my job why should I have to raise someone else's mistake too." and "If it wasn't for me you would be out on the streets" She never hugged me, acknowledged my birthday or anything else besides the bare bones to keep me alive and out of her hair.

Her beloved and perfect son and my abuser moved in when I was 11. Of course, I made everything up, because her perfect precious baby boy could do no wrong, even when she witnessed things like him shooting up heroine, when he would steal from her and begged my step-grandfather not to kick him out when child porn was discovered.

She showered him with love and attention, did his laundry made his bed and cooked all his meals. He was a 50 year old man and i was just an 11 year old girl. But i was a problem child, according to her I was a hellion and a trouble maker because we all know that a sure sign of a demon possessed child is accidently spilling a glass of milk and accidently laughing out loud. Yes, she really believed I was possessed and yes and exorcism was performed on me pentecostal style.

Ok, so for most of my adult life she found a way to keep me tied to her using tools like my birth certificate and social security number and got her self-added as my payee when i was awarded SSI. When I met my husband he woke me up to how badly she was mentally abusing me and controlling me and I went mostly no contact.

If you read this far awesome. So my step- grandfather was took care of me more than she did but he struggled with R.A.D. from his own childhood neglect. So no physical affection but he made sure my material needs were met. He divorced my grandmother because she put my uncle above all else.

When he died she didn't bother to tell me until after the funeral and got angry with me for being upset. This was about 2 years ago now.

Well, she is dying now. Of course ,her delusional self wants me to care for my abuser. Not going to happen. We actually had a decent conversation until the end where she said "I did everything I could to raise you to be a sweet kind and loving person, I don't know where I went wrong."

SO here is my problem, I can't stand the thought of those being the last words she ever says to me. I know I don't have much time, but My moms last words to me was her yelling about how some druggie friend of hers bought her a milkshake and forgot the straw. My grandfathers last words were "we aren't blood we aren't family" and there are several other deaths were the last words haunt me.

Those being her last words wouldn't bother me so much if I hadn't spent 2/3 of my life trying to get her to see some good in me. She knew what would hurt me the most because I tried so hard to make her happy and be a good child.

I have thought about calling her but I am afraid I will only end up more hurt. So I have been thinking about writing her a letter telling her exactly what I think about her, but because she is dying of heart failure I am afraid that would be the final push. I just can't leave thing the way they are or I will have one more stinky one to add to the shit pile of regret.
 
So, a bit of background for those who don't know.

My grandmother took me as a child when my mom lost...
Honey. My grandma treated me like crap. Not in the same way but like crap. As did others in my family. My therapist asked me why I still try to go to people for comfort and love that aren't capable. It is because I felt like I had no one else. I realized that I wanted so bad for things to be different that I kept trying for them to be. They won't be. So ask yourself... Whats behind what you are trying to do? Are you trying to change your past? See your family different? Hope they treat you different?

I'm so sorry you were treated so badly. I will never understand why so many people are so terrible.
 
Fade, as a new grandmother, I can't even imagine feeling the way your grandmother expressed feeling. You did not deserve this.

I am so sorry about what your blood family members said, but they are only your blood family members. Your true family is on here. :hug:

I don't blame you for being afraid to call her or write her a letter while she's in this state. But perhaps it would do her soul, if not her feelings, good to hear what you have to say. I know we all resist from telling dying family members what they've done to us. But I'm also a believer in the life review (and so are some of my priest friends), that we all go through a life review after we die and have to deal with the wrongs we've done to others. Maybe if we can help someone get those sorted out before they die, their life review will be a bit easier? If you buy into this, that is. Just my two cents.
 
Whats behind what you are trying to do? Are you trying to change your past? See your family different? Hope they treat you different?
If only we couldn't change our past, but no, it has to do with minimizing future regret. I doubt I could ever see my family any different. Not that I consider them family as I was repeatedly told I don't have family. I hold zero expectations of an 87 year old woman treating me differently than she has for the last 36 years.

It mostly has to do with how I cope with death and things that still haunt me. Since this death is predictable, I want as much control as I can as to how I react. I have too many regrets as a result of inaction when it comes to death and I fear repeating my past mistakes but I am not sure what the right thing to do in this case is.

I fear regretting not speaking up but also fear the repercussions if I do.
 
@Friday that fear is definitely there, I guess the deaths where I have struggled the most with the grieving process, note not the ones that caused the most pain but resulted in complicated grief, where the ones where they had said something painful as their last words.
 
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...note not the ones that caused the most pain but resulted in complicated grief, where the ones where they had said something painful as their last words.

Do you think that's because of their last words, or their last words are just so typical of them / The f*cked up thing someone I loved said to me. Again. / That it just kind of encapsulates the entire relationship? The whole "Let me put so&so into context for you: here's what they said to me on their deathbed :meh:

Honest question :) I know it could come off as leading.
 
If only we couldn't change our past, but no, it has to do with minimizing future regret. I doubt I cou...
One suggestion my therapist made was to write a letter. You don't have to send it just write it. Then maybe you could put it in her coffin after her death? I'm not sure that you want the guilt of saying what you feel directly before her death either and not be able to take it back. but that is entirely up to you of course.
 
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And this is just a thought. My grandpa was the most amazing man I've ever known. Unless he was sick. Then he would say some pretty whacked out things. He told me when I was sitting with him at the hospital once, "damn it Missy stop acting like such a whore, I'm not going to have sex with you!"
Needless to say it threw me. He didn't mean it. He didn't even know he said it. I never told him.
 
My grandfather was healthy at the time he said it. He went no contact with everyone including me for a couple of years before he died. I felt like not only did he leave to the wolves but he grouped me in as one of them when I was never accepted by them. He was the most important person in my life when I was growing up but to him I was just his ex wife's granddaughter.

@Friday, stop making sense. but i really do feel like I have to find a way to protect myself from her death before she dies. I have death issues. Not the I am afraid of corpses and graveyard fear of death but f*cked up ways of handling death type issues.

So get this for f*cked up. I have done this with 2 different people I knew were dying. As soon as I knew I started acting as if they were already dead. When someone would ask how they dying person was, I would respond "oh they died " it wasn't true but it just kind of popped out of my mouth and got in trouble with a job once.

Of course stressing over the fact that I got nicknamed the ice queen at my mom's funeral.

So I guess this is my phsyco analytical thread for the month trying to understand and have some control over my reactions to death. I don't understand why I react the way I do, but you guys are helping a lot.
 
I lived with my birth family up to my nine in an almost absolute neglect. No beatings, yelling or calling names but no love, affection, caring.
After that i was given on adoption to relatives who went on with my mental and sexual abuse. All summers that followed i was sent by the adoptive ones to my first home town in order to visit my real family and spend some time with them, especially with my two younger siblings. My real mother never showed any kind of guilt, neither did she bother to feel any anxiety about my ptsd although she had often times witnessed my mental symptoms. I had very early on informed her about my multiple abuse in my second family.
However i was constantly chasing her love and approval. Two months ago and after 40 yrs ever since she had abandoned me through adoption i visited her again. I was determined i would attack her for her being such an adequate mother. And then i sat opposite to a 85 year old who suffers from multiple physical illnesses, broken and wick. I asked her whether has she ever loved me and she said i dont know what love is. She went on talking about herself and her son she is absolutely emotionally depended on. My emotional hurt became unbearable.
Without her seeing me, i took the 3-4 photos of me and my nowadays family and put them in my bag. I told her goodbye, i closed the door and walked away FOR EVER. It was the last time i saw or shall i see them ever. -my dad is in severe dementia-
Neither shall i attend their funerals. They owe me much, i owe them nothing. My decision is definite.
A couple of days ago i had a vivid dream: i was walking towards their house in order to visit them again. And then i saw her -my mother standing outside her front door. I asked myself -still in my dream- :what are you doing again? She will never change! Dont expect anything from her! After that i turned back and left hurting, crying and shouting to myself that she would never, never change and have feelings for me. My last words were that she is emotionally disabled.
My husband woke me up because i was sobbing in my sleep.
 
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