Category Archives: mothers

Coming up for air

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5

You look out into the sea of faces, and welcome the group to the video conference. All is well, and going smoothly until a voice starts bellowing, “There is no contract between blah blah blah blah.” At least that’s what it sounds like to you because you are not there once you hear that inevitable berating nasty tone. You’re gone, just like that. Somehow you’re saved because one of your colleagues handles the nasty woman with the question/comment.

But then there are others with the similar berating tone, and you find a way to fake your way though it even though your body is floating, and you hardly feel like you’re on the ground. You’re answering questions, and keeping your body from shaking, but it is the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. It is painful to stand there, and keep it all buttoned up.

Right before the lunch break a woman approaches you to ask you a question. She’s nice and polite, but you haven’t eaten in three hours, and you feel yourself start to fade while she’s talking to you. You take her hand in yours, and tell her that you desperately need to eat something, and you would love to hear her question after the training ends. Mercifully, she smiles and says that’s fine, and that she’ll see you after the training.

You run to your office cube, and shake and shake and shake ,and then you eat your yogurt and granola. You want to cry like a baby, but you go back on camera in 15 minutes so there is no time for that.

You are back on camera, and the worst of it is over. However, your body does not know that, and it wants to TWEAK out. Keeping a lid on the pressure cooker in your body is an “all-hands-on-deck” affair. Somehow you get through it.

The lovely woman with the question right before lunch finds you after the training, and she turns out to be a joy to speak with. She is the one bright spot in the entire experience. The two of you wind up talking extensively about issues tangentially related to the training.

You are able to get to the end of the day, and you’re exhausted. Unfortunately, your body is in overdrive, and does not realize that the ordeal is finished. Your friend, Jack, takes you out for an early birthday dinner, but you’re twitchy. In fact, you’re especially twitchy when a couple is seated very close to you in the restaurant. You just about jump out of your skin.

Finally you get home, and just melt down completely. It is full on panic/freak-out mode, and you are drop-kicked into the horrid past of your parents yelling at you in that berating voice. You find yourself wishing that your mother had killed you that time she tried to run over you with the car. One of your friends calls you in the midst of this episode, and comes over to check on you. They wisely assess that you need your Xanax, and a break from your brain. You take one, and eventually are able to peacefully sleep, and put this dreadful day to rest for good.

What you don’t know can scare you

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5

When I saw Doc near the end of the week I was not doing well at all. I arrived at his office all twitchy and jerky. He took one look at me and said, “Oh no, you’re short-circuiting.” Doc’s the witty one alright.

We decided that the best thing for me was a neurofeedback session, and I did feel calmer after that. However, somehow, I got tangled up in the sensor wires without noticing. When Doc went to take the sensors off my head he picked up my hand to disentangle me from the wires. And that was all she wrote when he did that. I started twitching and jerking and freaking out. He started apologizing, and then the world went foggy.

Next thing I know Doc is asking me if I remember saying “I’m sorry” to him in this little girl voice. I was just incredulous, and I asked him, “Are you serious?” He was very serious. I asked him what he did when that happened, and he said he asked the little girl if he could have Beatriz back, and I came back to the session.

I managed to take myself to the little town cafe that I like so much after our session. I started texting my sister, Cate, asking her how things were with her. Somehow we got on the topic of our mother. She started talking about how the therapist she started seeing thinks our mother has schizophrenia. I thought Cate must be mistaken. I started asking her if she understood what schizophrenia was, and I could tell I was vexing her a bit. She started talking about how our mother saw and heard things that weren’t there. Apparently, Cate did not think this was news to me. According to her, I was present for many of these moments when my mother was experiencing psychosis.

I have absolutely no recollection of such behavior from my mother. There are plenty of negative memories associated with my mother, but none like this. Dumbstruck is an understatement for how I feel. I asked Cate what I did when these things were happening. She said I did nothing, that I never said anything about it or acted as if anything was wrong. I said to her, “I’m sorry, none of it is in my memory bank.” Cate replied, “I wish it wasn’t in my memory bank.”

I can only wonder if this is when my dissociation began. I feel betrayed by own brain, like I cannot trust myself.

No God

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13

Today, for the first time in my life, I admitted that I believe that God does not like me, does not care for me. It’s not something that is easy to admit, but it is true that this is how I feel, what I believe. I want the truth to be otherwise.

An hour passed since I wrote the paragraph above.

The realization that there is not one thing I would do in the world for my mother and stepfather is painful for me. I’ve tried and tried to search in my heart for feeling for them, but there is none to be had. I come up empty every single time.

When friends shake their heads at this fact I want shake them back and yell, “Don’t you know that I wish I could find a shred of feeling for them?! It is painful to feel nothing for one’s parents. The guilt is immense.”

If you blow out a candle enough times you eventually will be unable to relight it. You can only relight it so many times. My parents extinguished the light long ago. I’ve tried to relight it for them to no avail.

When the light was extinguished for my parents it seems that God blew out my candle as well.