“Mothers are all slightly insane.”
- J.D. Salinger
For most of my childhood, I knew something was off with my mother. Her behavior would embarrass me. When I turned 13, something clicked and I understood that there was a problem beyond embarrassment.
Sarah Fine has a definition for my mother’s condition on her BLOG:
Schizotypal Personality Disorder--odd behavior and thinking
But that doesn’t tell you much.
As a teenager, if a friend visited my home for the first time, I’d be filled with anxiety. I’d warn them. How people reacted after meeting my mother would determine how strong our friendship would be. If people couldn’t understand my mother, then they couldn’t understand me.
Those who see her at family gatherings or at her workplace, mostly view her as a character. I have no tolerance for the trite comments they make. When she was in charge of me, I protected my sister from the sinister side. So I can’t pretend nothing worse lurks behind the veneer.
Yet she’s not a wicked person. She loves her grandchildren. She’s one of my biggest fans of my writing. She’ll compare me to authors who write nothing like me, but the sentiment is there. And as soon as I told her about my short story in 100 Stories for Queensland anthology, she requested a copy. Repeatedly. Unfortunately, she also requested a copy from my sister, so we both unknowingly bought her copies. That’s part of her problem.
I have friends and acquaintances who have no idea about her. It’s my choice whether or not to share that part of my past and present. When it does come up, I have to figure out how much to reveal. I can make a blanket statement, but it feels like avoidance. If I reveal more, it’s too easy to descend into maudlin.
When people do hear snippets, they often say something like, “You should write about it.” And I do. Sort of. My manuscripts always have fractured relationships. I write for teens because I get that trapped feeling. Parents are in control of much of a teenager’s life, and it’s a teen’s job to loosen the grip so they can become adults. But what if the control is a chokehold? I hope my stories give teens the message that these hard times will pass.
I also write YA because I remember that time vividly. The reason I know a few exchanges with my mother by heart is because I’d repeat the words in my head to survive living in a house where words were twisted or forgotten.
I wrestled whether or not to share a specific story. My husband thinks it’s not right to write anything I wouldn’t say to her. That’s fair. I’ve only eluded to her in two posts, both many months ago. And with time, I can appreciate the good things she instilled in me:
- A love for reading.
- Seeing a person beyond race, religion, and sexuality.
- Feminism.
But most of her lessons were inconsistent. While she read to me, she also plopped me in front of the TV for hours. While she preaches equality, she’s also said some pretty inappropriate things while trying to relate when meeting a person of another ethnicity or religion.
Now that she’s older, I have different worries about her: health, decision-making, and job retention. It’s a battle. I have to work on keeping my patience when I talk to her. I should call her more. I should be many for her things I’m not.
But I’ve made great strides from the girl who hated her. Who worried that any moments she’d become her.
When I was around 17, after a pretty horrific scene, I called a friend in tears. He said, “That’s who she is. It’s not a reflection of you.” I exhaled for the first time in many years.
Yet I see pieces of her when I look in the mirror. When I was young we want to break free, be my own person. I can’t remove the physical characteristics my mother and I share. I could copy her speech patterns in a heartbeat. But I am not her. I strive to take the best of what she’s given me while I learn from the worst. But I also have to acknowledge that the good and the bad are part of me.
All these years later, Mother’s Day still resurfaces conflicting emotions. But I’m not embarrassed anymore. What to reveal? I’m still figuring that out.
It takes patience and knowledge to deal with certain people. I have a similiar situation, in my mother, actually. My sister-in-law's still have a hard time understanding her. It took me some time to learn how to deal with her myself. I didn't fully understand the extent of her problems until I was much older.
ReplyDeleteIt's great that you decided to post this. I appreciate it.
From the moment we see our parents as flawed individuals rather than immortal, all-powerful beings, our worlds change. Some kids experience this earlier than others because of their parents' behavior. It sounds like that was the case for you. Personality disorders (any mental illness, really) make parenting harder, and being parented by someone with a mental illness is like trying to stay upright during an earthquake. It's possible, and you are an example of that, but it's challenging (and sometimes you get hit with falling objects). This was an extremely courageous post, Theresa!
ReplyDeleteI agree, this is a courageous post.
ReplyDeleteIt is wonderful you can look back and rationalise what went on your formative years.
You are a great mother and can only be as good a daughter as circumstances dictated for you.
Your experiences will leak into your writing and make a difference to some teens lives
Mother's day is difficult for me. My friends never came to my home. It is difficult when the mother-daughter relationship is slightly off kilt. When it is both parents it is a struggle.
ReplyDeleteI do understand, Theresa.
I'm truly sorry you and your sister had to survive your mum's behavioural disorder. It's a true test of your character that you are this amazing woman now - creative and totally fabulous! Yes you are!!!! It's also fab that you continue to built bridges with your mother too. Whatever you reveal, I hope it all helps.
ReplyDeleteTake care
x
I think it is a processes of growing up when we see the flaws of our mothers. I can remember the times when I wished my mother would stop being so protective, givng me advice when I didn't want it, and doing things for me. Now as she is aging with servere dememtia, I sometimes want those times back and think this is not my mother, but I have learned now to accept this is her now and I savor those times. I think through this process of growing up helps us to be better parents because we have learned what didn't feel right to us. It is also a freeing experience to be able to accept what is. I do understand your feelings.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing something so personal. It must be hard.
ReplyDeleteMy mom is 80 and is starting to need help with making decisions and help financially. It's hard to have the patience to do it when the rest of life is so hectic. So I can relate to what you're saying.
As always, beautifully written! The advantage of aging is that we gain perspective and acceptance. You are a wonderful person and perhaps an even better person b/c of your experiences. I love your blogs and stories!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your thoughts. I imagine it was hard and therapeutic too. Have a good weekend!
ReplyDeleteA beautiful, sensitive post, Theresa. I can relate to so much of it. Am touched to hear the connection to your writing for teens. Makes so much sense. Lovely to hear a bit of your journey. Take care. Best, Hannah
ReplyDeleteAh, parents. As you can see by the comments, most of us have families that leave us envying someone else's family. It's like miscarriage - no one talks about them but if you mention you had one, you'll find out lots of other people did too! As for what you go public with, I do censor myself on my blog because my mom reads it. And sometimes she reads it to my dad. For now, there's plenty of life to write about without upsetting them unduly. That's the beauty of fiction - you can write about them, and they'll never know.
ReplyDeleteThanks for being so open and honest. My mom didn't have an ideal childhood, and she insisted on not making the same mistakes her mom did with my sister and me.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful, moving, and courageous post! Good for you for posting it. We all appreciate your honesty. When we're little, our parents, especially our moms, can do no wrong. It's always a shock when you first learn that they aren't. I'm so proud of you, Theresa! With age comes wisdom, and acceptance.
ReplyDeleteyou've done a great job with your choices as far as it sounds. =)
ReplyDeleteOh, Theresa. That must have been so difficult. You are such a strong online presence, and I'm sure you are an equally strong woman. Your mother must have helped make you that strong. Stanley Kunitz wrote that we are more shaped by the things that scar us in our lives than the good things. I think he's right.
ReplyDeleteIt is a true challenge trying to balance the hurt with the love. Seeing the similarities and try to avoid the pitfalls. A minefield! It is hard to know what to reveal and what keep to oneself. I know where you are coming from with this Theresa. You are indeed a survivor along with your sister.
ReplyDeleteMy instinctive reaction is that she doesnt belong here, that this blog can be just for you but I know its not as simple as that.
ReplyDeleteThey were very wise words from your friend - That’s who she is. It’s not a reflection of you x
Wow Susan, this was a very moving piece. I think it really says a lot about you, seeing as you got through the struggles with your mom. And look at the person you've become today. The fact that you are able to begin writing about it speaks too --a lot of people usually just want to avoid that kind of thing altogether.
ReplyDeleteHang in there. You can get through this.
Always,
Lindsey
Knowing nothing at all about your experience with your mom, and how difficult it must have been for her and the whole family, yet I can't help but think WOW, this was a woman with a mental illness yet she raised a wonderful daughter (you!) and managed to hold down a job and who knows what else. All while fighting this disorder. I don't know, but she sounds pretty remarkable to me.
ReplyDeleteI've had years and years to sift through the wreckage of the relationship I had with my mom. Sometimes, I feel I'm making mountains of progress; other times, not so much. I suppose it's enough on most days to accept that she did give me some of my favorite things: reading, creativity, love of learning, respect for others....she just never gave me what I needed-validation.
ReplyDeleteAll that to say this-I'm glad you haven't given up, on yourself or what can be salvaged. My friends remind me that, for better or worse, I am who I am today in part because of her. I believe the strong survive and turn around and reach others. Look at how you are with your students. You have genuine empathy and compassion. You're an amazing teacher and they know it. It's why they respond to you the way they do.
It sucks and it's not fair and it's cost you more than any of us could ever know, but for what it's worth, I'm really glad to know the you that you are. Did that make sense?
And I think you were very brave to invite friends over. I never did.
Thank you for speaking for many of us, who are still trying to explain our mothers to people, because we still have to, even when we're 40.
ReplyDeletehugs
bru
This is a very brave post. Motherhood is not easy, even when there's not a personality disorder involved. I agree with Karen, she raised a wonderful daughter, and that's a huge accomplishment.
ReplyDeleteWhat a courageous step forward my friend. Something I think we struggle with, explaining our parents. For me this would have been my father. Great post, T.
ReplyDeleteJules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow
Amazing Theresa!! I left a comment here on Thursday but Blogger's taken it away! :-(
ReplyDeleteI guess my comment boiled down to saying how you are a true survivor and amazing woman for striving to find some kind of peace with your mum and her illness.
Hugs, hugs, hugs! Take care
x
I too, left a comment on Thursday, but blogger took it away.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great post! I can truly relate to your feelings about your mom. My mom is 90 years old and has servere dementia. She is not the same mom that I knew growing up with. It has been hard to accept that this is the way she is. I have struggle with it, too. The way I look at it is, it is a growing process and it is accepting what is. Glad you found some peace as I have to.
Smiles.
Striving to take the best from her and learn from the worst- I think that's the best anyone can do.
ReplyDeleteUgh! ((hugs)) to you. My college roommate confided in me after four years of our friendship that her mother had a mental disability. That she was being appointed her guardian, and then she began to relate to me stories of what she'd gone through as the only child w/no father living with her grandmother.
ReplyDeleteI was stunned. I never knew after four years...
It's tough. It's shaped your character. And it's made you a better, more caring, more understand, stronger person. And you do know who your true friends are~ <3
Oh Theresa, what a brave, moving, and inspirational post. I agree with everyone here, regardless of how she was, she raised an amazing daughter, and you may not have been who you are today without her being who she is.
ReplyDeleteSending you lots of virtual hugs :)
Theresa, you've expressed yourself so well in this post and I identify with it. I'm thinking about my parental issues right now. Whether child or adult, in order to survive emotionally we explain or refrain from explaining to other people about what's going on at home. We become closer or distant to our relatives. It's complicated.
ReplyDeleteVery brave of you to share this with us Theresa. I do like your friend's advice - it's always hard to remember that we're not extensions of our parents, and that we have to forge our own way.
ReplyDeleteI'm amazed you turned out to be the compassionate and caring person you obviously are! And I love how you've taken away the positives of what she gave you.
ReplyDeleteI work with a woman who has to constantly deal with her mom's mental health problems. It doesn't get easier, but at least as an adult you can step away for awhile and take care of yourself. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteerica
This was a very honest and brave post. I hope it helped you in some way. Bravo.
ReplyDeleteI send you hugs, too!
Gosh, mothers...what can one say? They're a force behind us and sometimes its good, others not so good. I learnt about storytelling, reading, writing, the piano, gardening, languages.. all from my mother, she was talented but also trying at times.
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed your post, its honest and well written and beautiful. I can also feel the love for your mother here. x
It's hard. Mother daughter relationships aren't always these warm, fond, perfect things. And I know what it's like to wrestle over what you should or shouldn't write.
ReplyDeleteFollow your instincts.
Your love for your mother shows through in this post. My mother died when I was young. I still miss her.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Theresa. Even though I had far too few years with my mother, your post reminds me of how fortunate I was. None of us is perfect, even in love, we make mistakes. That you are able to see through your mother's imperfection—her illness—to the positive, says much about you.
ReplyDeleteI can so empathise. I have had a mother/childhood like yours sounds. I agree about Mother's Day. I try to find the plusses, too. Great post :O)
ReplyDeleteThis is an amazing post, Theresa. I love it to bits.
ReplyDeleteI'm choking up as I read your post because I can relate to it on several levels. If it helps, you're not alone. *Hugs*
ReplyDeletePeople left comments earlier but Blogger went down, and several comments disappeared. The comments haven't returned, so I'm going to repost them below.
ReplyDeleteI have e-mailed people (if I had an e-mail) to thank them for the comments, but I've decided not to comment here.
Such an open and honest post, Theresa. Thank you for sharing. Perhaps Mother's Day is a conflicted time for you, but know you are looked up to for the wonderful mother YOU'VE become. Your kids are truly blessed that you have risen above bad experiences to be what you are to them. Celebrate that. :o)
ReplyDeleteWow, this was an amazingly strong and emotional post. You've expressed yourself so well. I'm impressed with how much your life has decided the genre you write and the way you understand that and expressed it is inspirational. christy
ReplyDeleteTheresa, I just found this post and am so glad I read it. A few days before Mother's Day I wrote a twisted post. It's not one of my favorite days, either. But I didn't post it. Mostly because I posted one about my dad's death day (which was the 5th). But partly, too, because it felt dishonoring to her memory.
ReplyDeleteBut can the truth really be dishonoring? I wonder.
Reading your post has made me think again about breaking that piece out. Thank you for your courage to share, that rebel, Olivia