You don't have to love your mother

When I first started therapy with my psychologist I was a very angry person. I was angry for a lot of reasons, but mainly I was angry at myself, I was angry because I didn't love my mother and I thought that this made me a bad person. I thought that no matter what you should love your mother, than it was something that shouldn't ever be questioned, every one should love their mother, I didn't.

My closest friend lost her mother to breast cancer, they were very close, she was devastated. I felt an intense feelings of guilt that I still had a mother, I just didn't love her. My psychologist spent a lot of time explaining to me that she lost a mother that deserved her love, I should not feel guilty for not loving mine.

The truth is I feel sorry for my mother, she really has problems, more than was explained in my blog post yesterday. I mentioned at the beginning of yesterdays post that she has mental health problems too, well obviously postnatal depression is a mental health problems in its self, but my psychologist is convinced my mother has an undiagnosed personality disorder, I agree.

We grew up under the constant threat that she was going to leave, sometimes she would, she would get up and take the youngest baby with her and go. I remember one night she and my Dad argued and she left taking one of the babies with her, I was scared, not because she had left, but scared because it was thundering and lightening outside and I thought my baby brother was going to get struck by lightening. I didn't mind when she left, infact I liked it, it meant my Dad had to stay at home, it meant that I could relax. But she would always come back.

My Mother very much bullied my Dad, my Dad is a very passive kind of person, he would rarely argue back, he would do as much as possible to keep the peace. My Mother was cruel to my dad, especially in front of us. She would talk about him in front of us to her friends, she would tall them how pathetic he was, useless he was, how much she hated him. She could get where she wanted with him and if she didn't she would threaten to leave.

After the birth of her 5th baby my mother wanted my Dad to get the snip, my Dad didn't want to, they didn't want more children, but my Dad didn't want to have an operation. My Mother would taunt him about it, say how weak he was. We would be in town with my mother and she would bump into a friend, she would tell her friend about her weak pathetic husband who was too scared to get the snip. After a year of this taunting my Dad agreed to get it done. When you want the snip in the UK you have to sign the consent with your wife, you cannot do it without your wife's permission. My mother had bullied my Dad into getting it done, they went together to see the doctor, they both signed the consent forms. On the morning of the operation my Mother told my Dad that if he went ahead and got it done she would divorce him. Feeling very confused my Dad went ahead and got it done, when he got home my Mother had already packed his bags, she had sat us all down and told us that Dad was leaving, we all cried. I remember my Dad saying good bye on the drive way, I remember my Mother sitting in the house, refusing to tell us why our Dad was leaving.

My Dad was allowed back a month later after he had had the vasectomy reversed. It was never mentioned again.

I developed an almost obsession with protecting my Dad. I felt I needed to take the pain for him, protect him from the stress of my Mother, so this became my aim and still happens a lot today. I adore my Dad and my psychologist says I sometimes idolise him too much.

Through out the years my Mother has done other things to manipulate the family and people around her. She has had several cancer scares, she has smoked 20 a day for most of her life. When she started having trouble with her voice and the doctor found a lump on her vocal cords, my Mother sat us all down and told us that she had cancer. Now I no that every one always tends to think the worst in these kind of situations, you find a lump and think the worst, but she told us, her children, that she had cancer, not that it could be cancer or their was a chance she had cancer, she told us she HAD cancer. For two weeks our house was a living hell, my Mother used this to her full advantage. I remember scrubbing the bathroom for her, wanting to please her, my Mother was dying and I hadn't loved her. It had to be my fault, it was my fault and I had to make up for it, I had to make up for killing my Mother. It turned out to be scaring on her vocal cords, probably caused by shouting to much.

A few years later we went through another cancer scare, my Mother started having trouble with her bowels, she had an endoscopy, they found some polyps. This time we were told cancer was a possibility, rather than 'I have cancer'. The results came back that they were benign, my Dad went with her to get the results. My Mother did not tell people the truth, she continued to tell the people at work she had cancer. Cards and gifts would arrive my sick Mother. But the worst was still to come, 4 months after finding out she did not have cancer my sister came to me, she was very upset and said she had something to tell me. She told me how our Mother had been lying to the family all of this time and that she was the only on that new the truth and that after 4 months of being the only one our Mother had been able to trust with the information that she just couldn't cope with it alone. She told me that our Mother did have cancer and that she had been keeping it from us because she didn't want to hurt us. I new this wasn't true, my Dad had been with my Mother when she got the results, she had had no treatment, she just didn't have cancer I new she didn't. I pointed these facts out to my sister and as soon as I did my sister new too that my Mother has been lying. My sister and I spent days deciding what to do, should we confront her, should we tell my Dad, should we just stay quiet. We decided on the last option, we did not want to hurt my Dad, there was no point in confronting my Mother, she would just lie her way out of it. Still to this day my sister and I have just left it. My psychologist wanted to bring it up in the meeting the other day, I said it was off limits, I do not ever want to hurt my Dad with this information. Maybe we will discuss it in the appointments my Mother is going to be coming to over the month, maybe not. I still do not no if I could bare to see her try and explain it.

Back at the end of last summer my Mother turned up at my flat, she told me that she was leaving my Dad, I had heard this so many times before, I just switch off to it. But this time seemed different, she seemed so sure, she told me that she was going to leave when my youngest brother turned 16, which is this summer. I felt happy, happy because this time I thought she was finally going to do it and although I new it would hurt my Dad I new I would be strong enough now to help him, to protect him the best I could. I have been counting down the months, weeks, days.

About an hour ago I found out that on Friday her work colleges bought her a bunch of flowers as she had been so upset the day before after my appointment that she attended, I can only imagine what she told them, probably how upset she is as she has a sick daughter, how it breaks her heart to see me struggle so much.

My Mother shows classic symptoms of having a personality disorder, my biggest fear is that I will become her, maybe that is why I have taken such a long time to accept I have mental health problems. I almost feel a huge sense of pity towards my Mother, she had it tough as a child, she blatantly is ill. But she has hurt me so much, she has hurt my whole family.