This is so understandable. And doubles the pain of then feeling as if you're failing.
I know the feeling, too. I'm enrolled in a university for my BA (finished my AA a year ago), but can only attend part-time due to a psychological disability. I'd like to go full-time - both for the sake of making tuition simple and so that I can finish up in a timely manner - but can't handle the workload. It gets overwhelming if I have more than two classes per semester. Sometimes I wonder if my "disability" (depression) is
really getting in the way, or if there's some other force at work here. It may or may not be related to my mother's emotionally neglecting me, but I am nonetheless well-acquainted with thoughts of "I'm a failure because I don't function the way other people do."
I'm struggling too with my T--I think just because I'm in a mode of pushing her away, not wanting to trust her, blah etc etc, which seems to be the pattern when there's more/new "stuff"...we had a session today and I just feel like I could sleep for the next month (not an option--which is a fortunate thing...the demands of my life keeps pushing me forward and for that I'm grateful).
I have been in T for most of the last 23 years, and I can't remember struggling like this. But you're actually the lucky one, at least IMHO. The kind of exhaustion you mentioned and the fact that it's a pattern might indicate that you can feel things internally shifting in ways that are uncomfortable, even though they're also healthy, and you're subconsciously scrambling to find a way to cope. That's how it sounds to me, but I'll defer to your judgment on how accurate this interpretation is. :)
Likewise, the thought of trusting your T seems to be dredging up some old reactions for you. You trusted your mother and got stung. Why should you trust your T? Your experience has taught you not to trust older women, and she's an older woman. That said, it sounds like you trust her enough to talk about your mother, and that (IMO) counts for
something. I also like that she said, "If I could take this away from you I would do it in a second. But I can't do that." A wise woman, who won't bend over backwards to make you happy when you need to heal instead.
Of course, whether you stick with her or not is up to you, and I'll support you either way. You know better than I do what feels right and what doesn't, to you. I trust you to decide what needs to be done and when, how, etc. Know that we are in your corner!
The feelings and memories are bad, no getting around this one. Yet there is hope because eventually your new truths will emerge and you will become the you that your abusive mother tried to quench your spirit. She failed and you won because you are in recovery now and it will get better for you.
Woohoo! Yes! I am in agreement 1,000%,
@Rain!
Your words are an inspiration to me. I've been thinking the past couple of days that I have no real personality. By which I mean that I'm always so worried about doing things "right" the first time around so that no one has any reason to claim that I failed. My memory is very detailed, and I can remember things that happened a couple decades ago like they happened yesterday. I think that's partially a coping mechanism to prevent any sense of failure from forgetting to do something, or how I was supposed to do it. There's even been days in T when I've plastered on a smile and numbed out. I'm usually ready to really sink my teeth into whatever we're tackling during a given session, but sometimes I just can't muster the mental energy to do much other than smile. Even when my cheeks start to hurt.
Since eighth grade, I've been writing short fiction, and now have about 150 pages of a manuscript for a novel-in-progress. While I enjoy writing, I am also majoring in English/Creative Writing at my university. Doing what I love and all that jazz, right? Wrong. Now it's
work. It's not really fun anymore, though I am good at it (if my opinion counts for anything, lol). Another long-time interest of mine is Irish dancing (think
Riverdance). My dance school does a handful of performances (I participate in the St. Patrick's Day parade, but others perform a couple times a year for local sports teams' half-time shows), but we're mainly focused on competition. I used to love it
so hard, but ever since I moved up to an advanced rank, it's been much more difficult to win anything on stage. Plus, I have to spend two hours doing my make-up and hair. For what? I came in tenth place, out of ten, at my last competition. I know I'm competing against dancers who have been at this rank for years, but geez. It's not nearly as worth it as it used to be. Someday that will change, so I stick with it, but it's frustrating in the meantime.
Anyway, now that you have some background about me, I'll get back on topic (lol, oops).
I fret so much about not being a "failure" because I was never good enough for my mother. She would never acknowledge that I am fine as it, and that I don't need to change at all. Maybe she assumed that I knew that already, I don't know. But it would have helped a ton in believing it for her to say it. She was never great at expressing stuff like this, and no one was physically affectionate in my family until after I got into residential treatment for the last year and four months of high school. Clients were allowed to ask for hugs from staff as well as fellow clients. I remember the hesitation and tension both of my parents held in their bodies as I hugged them. My dad eventually relaxed, but I don't think my mom ever did. It's like I was inconveniencing her to ask for a hug. She didn't want to appear rude, even if we were alone, so she never denied me that contact. But I could tell she was always holding something back.
I knew by the tension & uncomfortable feelings of total anxiety that deep down things weren't right. But I just normalised it all.
My mum made so many clever excuses for everything I felt terrible for even questioning anything that had happened.
I didn't question anything, either, until the past four weeks or so. Like I said above, she died a year ago tomorrow. She had to die for me to open my eyes and see her for the terrible person she was. After her death, I was teary-eyed for about a week, maybe a little more. After that, I was like, "Whatever, she's not suffering anymore (she died of breast cancer). She was here, and now she's not. Life moves on. And you know what? I'm gonna do that, too. No sense in wishing her back, since it's not gonna happen." I did do a lot of the active grieving stuff beforehand. This was her third round of BC, and it was more aggressive that the last two. The doctors didn't detect anything until it had already spread all over the place. Especially when she started having complications from the chemo, I knew it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, she went into the hospital on the evening I graduated with my AA. Not that she chose that particular date, but the focus was definitely on her, not me. My brothers attended my grad ceremony, but my dad stayed home with my mom.
After the funeral, I pretty much moved on with my life. But no one else in my family did. They're still grieving, and they want to do special things for her birthday (three weeks ago), then again tomorrow. They want to visit her grave every weekend. I don't know how to tell them I don't give a darn about her, nor about doing anything on those days. Good riddance to the woman who royally screwed me over.
it feels like a huge loss. Loss of the mother I never really had. So much loss.
But it's such a mind game as I'd lost that a long time ago I just could never accept it...
Ditto. I grieve now for the life I could have had, with a mother who loved me and was proud of me, and would
always let that bleed through any disappointment, anger, etc. she felt towards me. Yikes, I guess it would be an understatement to say I'm a wee bit bitter?
