Every six months, I am to get a mammogram, so in a week or so, I get another one. Let's HOPE I do not have to get a biopsy afterwards. UGH. The mammogram isn't comfortable, but it's not horrible. Biopsies...the afterwards sucks. And now that I am recovering from covid, I really hope I won't need one, as it takes forever to recover from that shit. At least for me it does. It messes with my thyroid and throws my entire system out of whack and I get all these stupid symptoms that make no sense. And now my thyroid meds are going up. We'll see if they stay there, or if they'll need to go back down again. I guess covid can cause thyroiditis flares. Yay.
I did get my first fallen leaf that's changed color today, so that's nice! Though I stuffed it in my purse and now it's missing....weird.
Anyways, I woke up this morning to my driveway getting tore up by the county...they didn't even tell me they were coming, but hey, they replaced my rusted ass culvert for free (which had put a hole in my driveway) so we were stoked! Saved us $5,000! Hell yeah!
Now we can have our garage sale AND not worry about trick-or-treaters falling into that hole, never to be seen or heard from again. Yay!
Recently my dad's 25th deathaversary just passed. We still need to get to the gravesite. I have flowers and a can of Popeye's spinach for him. I feel that he's still out there, living his life somewhere, in an another dimension, hopefully being a better person than he was in this one. But he tried. He failed miserably, but at least he tried. My mother doesn't even try. She's better now, but only because she's falling apart. Which sucks. I don't want my mom to be a good person only because she doesn't feel well. Well, what I mean is, I don't want her to not feel good in order to be a better person. I wish she could just be a different person. But she's not, so what can you do? She's on better meds now, I hope that helps. But I also am not looking forward to her being a butthole again. But I can't control that. And I have better coping skills today if she reverts back again.
Well, off to go pick up my husband and son from the movies.
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I think my mom's BFF Christmas is getting dementia. The crazy woman is still driving and her daughter lives hundreds of miles away and pretty much has nothing to do with her mother (her daughter is a HUGE narcissist). So nobody is there to tell her to stop driving. Or to even notice this is going on.
Yesterday Christmas calls my mother and tell her she has skin cancer, something that was found in her blood tests. I was like huh? So I called Christmas myself and her give me her test results, and to find out, it was a urine test and in it was the term "squamous epithelial cells". She said this to her friend, and her friend said "Well, that's cancer." And then, without looking it up, she just accepted that as fact and started freaking out and telling everyone she has cancer. Well, as it turns out, having some of those cells in her pee test is absolutely normal. I then told her that next time she's confused about a test, to please call me first, before anyone else, so we can go over it together, and I can advise her to call her doctor or not.
As we're talking, we were talking about her doctor, and how he snapped at her because recently she fainted and hit her head pretty hard, and he was angry she didn't go to the ER. He was right, she should have, but he's a dingleberry, and I had to switch from him as a doctor for my mother, due to the fact that one day he just "decided" to stop refilling her meds, and to instead go to the neurologist for refills. Which would have been fine, except that they couldn't get us in for months. And she was almost out of pills. These pills are her primidone and without them, she cannot function, and would most likely die (she wouldn't be able to walk or eat or do anything). She just needed a few months prescription until we could get into the neurologist.
He flat out said no.
I said "He has no choice. She will die without her meds. You need to refill them. TODAY."
He still said no.
So I marched my ass into their office and yelled at the front desk until they went back and told him I was out front yelling and lo and behold, like magic, he sent the refill in, right then and there.
And then we switched doctors.
I told my mother about all the work I put into getting her meds refilled and how he refused and how we were switching doctors. And she agreed what an asshole he was.
But apparently, that's not what she was telling Christmas.
This was a year ago, back when she was still talking shit behind my back. I thought it had been longer than that, but apparently, it wasn't. In fact, I thought she has already stopped doing this back then, but I was wrong.
What she had told Christmas was that I had known that I was supposed to be making an appointment with the neurologist and I had just been refusing to (for what reason, I have no idea!). And it was my fault she wasn't getting her meds. She supposedly had been leaving me notes about making an appointment with him, and I just wasn't doing it. How on earth would she be the one telling me when I am supposed to be making appointments when she has no freaking idea herself? And why would her doctor just flat out refusing to refill her meds surprise me if I had known I was supposed to be doing this all along?
She just wants to paint me as a failure to everyone, even though I literally went into her doctor's office to fight for her.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don't tell narcissists shit. Because they will take everything you say and do and twist it into a lie for their own amusement and to make themselves look better and feel better than you. It's so fucked up.
And this is why I don't like her. I care about her health and well-being. I will always care about about that. I am a real human, unlike her. But I do not like, nor love her. And I never will.
She will never change. Deep down, she's still the same exact person she's always been, and always will be. The ONLY reason she stopped talking shit about me is because she realized I was listening to her phone calls. That's the only reason. Well, that, and her declining mental and physical health.
I have been on a path recently of understanding and forgiveness with her...which I will write about later. But this just reminds me that while I am on that path, I should not be sucked back into her drama for any reason whatsoever. Because that's a dangerous path that will only get me hurt.
Ugh. Well, at least it's reminder to stay the course of grey rock. So that's something.
Sigh.
She's starting to feel better now. You know this because the moment she feels better, she turns back into being rude and ungrateful and demanding. Every time I post about her being better, she pulls something silly. It's not a big deal, but it's also not nothing, either. Because this proves that she's not better, she's just not been feeling well since the doctor lowered her anti-depressants.
I HATE doing nice things for her. I mean, I love doing nice things for others, it's a part of who I am. But every single time I do something nice for her, she always makes me regret it.
We were at Walmart the other day and my son, who was at home, called and wanted some strawberry wafers. So my oldest son and I headed over to the cookie section and grabbed a package. I said "Oh grandma loves these, let's get her some too." So my oldest son said "Get her orange, she loves that. Or lemon." We decided on orange. The packages are pretty big and are way too big for just one person, so my kids ate half and gave her half. Yes, they are sugar-free, but they still have carbs and my mom has diabetes. And if you've been here for a bit, you may know that I had to stop my mother from ever going to Walgreens, as she'll literally spend $30 on candy bars (hence her diabetes). And a half a package of these wafers is still a lot of cookies. Like, a LOT. So we figured she'd be happy with it.
So, my son took the package, after sharing some with his brother, to my mother, he said "Special Delivery! These are for you!" He handed the package to her and she looked at it and scoffed and said in a mock shocked voice: "Excuse me! This is only half. Where is the rest?" He laughed nervously and she just kept saying shit. "Well, I see how I rate. Where are the rest of my cookies?" He laughed again and left the room. She just kept yelling shit. And after a few minutes, well after he was gone, she yelled really loudly through her closed door "THANK YOU!"
But that's not it. She came out of her room as I was getting her dinner together and said to me "Little D left this package in my room, I didn't know if I was supposed to keep them." I was thinking he had already told her they were hers....hence her big show earlier about how someone ate half of them....I just said "Yep. They're yours." She said "Oh, I wasn't sure, because he had eaten some and I wasn't sure if he wanted it back." I just got mad and left the room. She kept on saying things, but then went back into her room and I looked at my kids and told them what she said. And they both sighed and said "This is why we don't do nice things for grandma".
And it gets worse. The next day, she looks at me when she hears I am heading off to Dollar General and she says "Can you see if they have more wafer cookies?" I am like "Are you already out of them?" She said "Well, someone ate so many of mine." (meaning my son--she loves to food shame both him and I). So I just left the room and did NOT buy her more cookies when I went. Her A1C is elevated, so I wasn't going to help in making it worse, also, she's being rude AF and ungrateful.
This woman, I swear, I am not looking forward to her feeling better. I mean, I am, for her sake. But not for having to deal with her constant badgering and bullshit. But I swear, this time, I am going to bring it up to her. I am going to say something like "You know, when he lowered your meds, you were super depressed and I felt bad for you. But I sure enjoyed not having your snarky ass comments and rude behavior. The MOMENT you started feeling better, you go straight back to your old self: rude and complaining. Why is that? When when you feel good, you want to be mean people? And why is it when you feel bad, you're quiet, sweet, and nice? This makes no sense. Usually people are the opposite of that. The only way it's nice for us to be around you is when you feel bad. Does that sound normal to do?"
Who knows? Maybe pointing it out will work? Probably not. But I am going to say it if I have to.
So, I think I mentioned this, but I haven't needed to ever talk about this on here due to the fact he's been so much better. But now? Things have gotten worse again. It's like where there is a vacuum, my son will come and fill up the space. Why? I don't know. It just works out there way. My mom stopped being an issue in my life and now my son has taken up that role.
Now, I am NOT here to bitch about my kid and say mean things about him or make fun of him. He's a good person who happens to have emotional problems. He always had them since he was a little kid, but at seventeen, he turned into...something else. When he was little, we took the advice to name his anger, so that way he didn't feel that it was who he was. It was a separate part of himself that had its own personality traits (anger) that was a part of him, but wasn't him. Little did we know, we were practicing IFS back then. And he named his anger "The Hulk". When the Hulk showed up, little D wasn't little D anymore, he was something else entirely. But little did we know there was a worse, more angry Hulk brewing inside of him that, when he turned seventeen, was going to take over his entire personality. And that ended with me having to place him in his father's home for a bit, as he was destroying my house and punching people in the face, and trying to put his brother in the hospital. I almost called the police on him, but I am grateful I never did.
When he came home, he was more agreeable, and I had gotten the book "How to Parent Your Out of Control Teenager" and it helped, tremendously. We followed the rules set up in that book, and because of that (and as he aged), he got better. He got so better that it was only once or twice a year he'd have a breakdown and punch something (or someone). But recently, it got bad again. To the point that he was destroying my house and getting into fistfights with his brother again at least once a month. It's been ten years since he's been seventeen. And just recently, I thought me, and both of my children were all going to die in a car accident, because of him having an episode in the car while driving. And I almost jumped out of a moving car because of it.
See, my oldest son will wake up in these "moods". He can be fine the day before, and then out of nowhere, he will wake up...I don't even know how to explain it. Crabby doesn't even touch what he acts like. I think the better word here is volatile. Like a lit fuse waiting to explode. And when he feels like this, he has ZERO ability to recognize he's being this way. The thing is, he doesn't always explode. So I always take it as "Oh, if I just stay quiet, everything will be okay, even if he's irritated." But I forget: I am not the only person who lives in this house. And that day in the car? Was his brother pushing him while he was a lit fuse. And BAM! It exploded.
The only reason this ever happens is when we don't back down. If we stay quiet, and ignore his snippy angry mood, he won't ignite. That's what happened when he was seventeen. We had no idea that we were the problem (well, he was, but we were the ones who pushed him to become so bad). So, if my son gets with an equally as argumentative person as a significant other? My son will end up in jail. Or worse.
As little D got older, his moods evened out and he stopped being a lit fuse as much. But we also stopped participating in his baiting arguments. So he stopped igniting. It was a mutual effort. But like I said, recently, it got worse. That's because recently, he's been prescribed Adderall, which is helping with his motivation (which he has none, due to his depression and ADHD), a little with his ADHD, and a lot with his weight loss (he has binge eating disorder). And at first, it was bad, but eventually, he evened out. But then came the weed. And his weed addiction. Yes, you can become addicted to weed, and it's NOT pretty when you go through withdrawals. Esp. when your doctor doesn't give you your Adderall because he's on vacation. So he was withdrawing from both and that snapped something in his brain, and now he's back to being a lit fuse again, even though he's quit marijuana.
Don't fuck with your brain chemistry, people. And especially not when it's working right.
For, let's say about eight years, my son has been on an even keel with his moods. Yes, he's moody. Like regularly. And yes, in the first four years we lived here, my son has busted a hole in his door, twice (which only made it bigger), broken our door that goes to the garage, wrote his name on the basement door (with swear words after it), almost broke a hole in my door (there's just an indentation), broke his glasses (we had to buy new ones), broke our remote (had to buy a new one eventually), broke the PS4 controller (had to buy a new one), and thrown numerous things at people (like cans and bottles, and the such). And has been in a fist fight with his brother at least twice (once while in the car, but at least they pulled over first). Punched my husband in the face (but then again, that one was bad for a reason outside of my son's control, even though he's still responsible for what he did). And once caused my husband to try to walk home from Walmart, which was is well over five miles away. Sounds like a lot. But in reality, they are barely anything compared to when he's actually bad. Those all were one-off instances. And all of those things were happening while my mom was giving me shit due to her NPD. But when he's actually bad, like he has been recently, it get so much worse, so much more violent, and so much more volatile. And now we have the added part where he's been threatening suicide. Like recently he threatened suicide because I didn't have the fridge clean. Stuff like that, that makes no sense to be that upset over.
And now he's trying to date for the first time in his life. And I am terrified of someone else coming in and fucking with the mix of emotional issues my son already has. I feel whoever he gets with, if they aren't right for him, they will be the reason my son ends up either dead or in jail.
And of course my son can't hold down a job due to all of this. So all of those things I wrote about that he broke has to be paid by us. But not only that, he spends our money without telling me. Recently, he spent almost $500 without telling me, and now I am going to have to restrict his access to our money. BUT a huge issue is him spending it with Affirm, which makes it almost impossible to restrict his access.
So, also recently, he's been coming to realize that he has zero ability to take care of himself and told me if I die, he will kill himself. So that's fun. Realization after realization has been hitting him, realizing just how mentally ill he is, and out of his desperation, he's been taking it out on me, saying I need to take care of him, or else he will die. And when he says "take care of him", he means every second of every single day, in every way possible: telling him what to eat, cleaning his room, doing his laundry, managing his time. And on top of that, doing all the cleaning of the house, all the cooking (which I already do), and come up with intricate meal plans, so he will never have to guess what to eat. So my job, according to him, as his parent, is to manage every second of his every single day, so he stops feeling so utterly depressed because he's unable to take care of himself.
And I know he's mentally ill, but I can't fucking do that. He keeps saying "You're forty-eight years old! Grow up! Figure it out! You're the parent!" I know those words come from frustration and anger at his own inability to do these things for himself. And I know he's projecting. But can he even hear himself? I want to say "Yes, kid, I am forty-eight. And I've been doing this since I was twenty-one years old. I am fucking tired. I want my own life again. At least partially." But I know saying that is selfish, but one person can only do so much. He refuses to let anyone else help him, it has to be me. I am his safe person. But geezus effing christ. I am tired. I am depleted. And most all, I am only one person. His therapist recently said that to him. And it got him thinking.
Oh, and by the way, his therapist knows NOTHING about any of this. He's been seeing her for a year, and I've been urging him to tell her what's been going on, but he refuses. So she's not much help for his REAL issues, but that's on him, not her. He's been bringing me to see her over the past like six months, and it's all about how I am going to be able to help him, and how I've been the one failing as a mom because I haven't done enough for him. Did I mention that he's always blamed me for his issues? That all of his problems in life are everyone else's fault? Yes. That's how he's seen things. Up until two nights ago.
Two nights ago, he was scrolling through his phone and like a beacon of light from the heavens above, a thing popped up about Borderline Personality Disorder. And he took a test. And he passed that thing so hard that it's pretty much undeniable that he has BPD. So he took another test, same result. So he called me into his room and informed me, "Mom, I am pretty sure I have borderline personality disorder. In fact, based on my results, I know I do."
And now we finally have a name for what's been going on for his entire life.
See, I already knew this. Well, I suspected it. Either that, or bipolar (since his depressions lately have been bad). But I can't go to him and say "Hey, little D, I think you have BPD." That would not go over at all. And there was no way to drop hints. Not any that would get him to figure it out on his own. So I just had to sit and wait. And see if his therapist suggested it. But now he's figured it out himself, and we're going to go to his therapist and figure out a good plan to help him. And getting a diagnosis may help him get SSI, since he can't take care of himself, like at all.
Oh, he also recently got a diagnosis for POTS, which has been hard AF getting doctors to actually care enough to listen to him. So, 2025 is becoming the year of revelations. Thank goodness. I feel like we've all, everyone in my house, have suffered for a long, long time without any light at the end of the deep dark tunnel we've been traversing. And now, not only is there a light, there's a fucking oasis where we finally have answers and things may get better. With this change him? Not fully. But hopefully, with treatment, he'll be on the right track. And maybe I can get help for this, too, so I can have better tools to help him with. So we all can move towards things that actually matter, instead of being stuck on this fucking broken record where I am the bad guy for not doing enough for him. Nothing would have ever been enough for him, because I don't know how to treat BPD.
Thank you Al Gore, for inventing the internet (tee hee!), and giving my son that ad at the right time so we can all find some fucking peace for once. At least a little bit. And now I can let out that breath I've been holding for almost twenty-seven years and know that at least with a name for what's been going on, there is hope.
Well it's been a hot minute since I last posted on here. Many things have been going on, mostly stressful in some way, shape, or form, which is why I haven't been posting. There have been some non-stressful things, too, so that's good, right?
Let's start with my mother. She's been going downhill for awhile now. We're waiting to get into the doctor's office to re-up her meds back to where they were. They lowered her antidepressants a few months ago and she's felt like crap ever since. This has kept her locked in a state of not wanting to do anything. If feel bad for her. Yes, she's abusive when she has all her faculties, but I still don't want her sitting around feeling bad for no reason.
I will say recently she pulled that whole "I made up a story in my head and now I act like it's factually true" thing. We were talking about her cat and my dog, and recently my dog had tried to attack her cat again. If you haven't read about this before, my mom's cat brutally attacked my dog once, many years ago (and for no reason...her cat used to chase him around the yard to beat him up and once actually got him) and my dog has held a grudge ever since. He LOOOOOVES all cats, but not that one. And if he sees or smells him, he will go on a rampage to get him. Well...my mother stupidly left her bedroom door shut with the cat in the kitchen and my dog came in to go outside and saw my mom's cat and gave chase. He pushed him into my mom's door and held him there...my husband yelled at the dog, and the dog came to my husband then went outside. My husband inspected the cat and the only thing on him was dog slobber. My dog didn't even try to bite him.
So I brought it up to my mom "It's good to know that the dog doesn't actually want to bite your cat, he's just bullying him." And my mom said "Well, he bit him before." I looked her straight in the eyes and said "My dog has never once bit your cat, what are you talking about? He doesn't bite cats." She raised her voice and actually yelled at me and said "YES. HE. DID! Remember when the cat had that huge gash in his stomach?" I sighed and replied "Your cat was missing for three days, he used to pretend to live with the feral cat colony next door, remember? He wasn't locked in anyone's garage, he was choosing to live with those cats. Well, he came home one day with that gash in his stomach and refused to leave your room for two years." She got all huffy and said "He refused to leave my room because he was scared OF YOUR DOG! The cat tried to climb the fence and your dog pulled him and bit his stomach!" I just stared at her. This was something she completely made up in her head, because it never happened. Yes, my dog would chase him as he'd run from the yard and the cat would climb the fence to get away from him (mind you, this was after the cat had attacked him). But he never once bit him. Had he actually had done that? It would have been a BIG deal and we may not have kept the dog. I would never keep a dog that would attack cats in such a way, as long as we had cats in our home. Granted, again, the cat would have deserved it, as the cat had ripped up my dog's face before (and had the cat not stopped and kept on attacking him? we would have found the cat a new home, also), but still. That's not safe.
I never raised my voice back, but I would not back down. The truth is the truth. "No, that did not happen. Your cat came home with that gash. We all talked about what could have bitten him, like coyotes or a raccoon or another cat. None of us knew what had hurt him, but knowing your cat, he probably started it. Whatever attacked him made him so scared and stopped him from attacking my dog anymore, and stopped him from beating up all the other cats, too. He became fearful of everything. We talked about this numerous times and never once was the idea of my dog biting him brought up. So, you are making that up and now you believe it, but it didn't happen."
This is how I know her new story of how my cat died in her arms isn't true, too. I had cat named Dobby (who had a brother named Harry). The story of Dobby's death, for probably over ten years now, went like this: Dobby lived with my mother (as we lived a block away on a very, very busy street). Dobby had FIV. Dobby got sick, ran away to the basement, and my mother found him dead in the cat litter. The End.
Now, all of a sudden, like within the past month or so, Dobby has a new death story. In this incredible story, my mother found Dobby dying in the cat litter, she brought him upstairs, and let him look out the window one last time, and he then dropped his head and died in her arms. The End. But that is NOT what happened. I wasn't there, so I can't 100% say, but my mother has a tendency to make up stories and 100% believe them. She's done this her whole life, so it's not a dementia thing. It's a sociopathic narcissist thing. Or really, it's a human thing, as a LOT of people do this (though maybe not to this degree of made up-ness), but my mom's inability to listen when you tell her she's wrong is the narcissistic part. My hubby remembers things wrong all the time, as do I (we both have ADHD), but when someone tells us we're wrong, we stop and think "Hmmm, could I be wrong right now?" And then we remember that we are. But we don't make up things, we just get mixed-up. My mom straight up invents stories and then becomes convinced they are true. I haven't corrected her yet on this, but I will the next time she brings it up. Why? Because I don't like lies. Especially not from her.
I am not mean about proving my points. Not at all. I am just matter-of-fact. Too many times she's tried to rewrite history in favor of her, usually against me in some way (though not anymore, now it's just random weird things to lie about), so it's triggering to hear her lying. Her accusing my dog of attacking her cat (and my dog would have had to RIP into this cat's belly, which another reason this is absurd, as he looooves kitty cats) is really against me. Anything that has to do with me, she attacks it. She always has and always will. But that's okay. I am armed with facts, which is something she knows nothing about.
Then we have issues with one of our children. His meds were creating these horrible mood swings that was causing chaos in our home. I don't know 100% yet, but they seem to be evening out and he's doing amazingly well. But I just hope it lasts.
Then we have my ex-therapist who tried to get my website taken down. What is my website? Well, reviews of all my pasts therapists. And she did NOT like hers at all. So she reported it and they removed it. So I reposted it with much less wording and so far, they haven't said anything. BUT they keep looking at my site every single day (sometimes her, sometimes the people who own the site I use) and I am not sure how much longer it will be kept up. So, I am moving it to my own hosting and unless it's illegal, nobody can say shit. OH and that batshit crazy woman also found me on Facebook and reported my posts for "talk of suicide", which is weird, because obviously none of my posts have that, so why would they just take this person's word for it? Yeah, it's BS.
We're gearing up for a yard sale. We have so much to do, and I also have to call a plumber to have some work done, which I will do today. Also I've been writing a lot, and my new book will be coming out soon. I've been lazy AF formatting it, but I will do it, hopefully this week. I've been also working on a new/old website that I've been creating for years and the idea behind it I've been working on since around 2010. It's been 15 years and I've FINALLY figured out how all my silly crazy ideas will work together. Being ADHD with a hard time learning how to structure ideas and thoughts sucks. BUT now I finally have done it and I can hopefully be moving onto the next phase of my life. I need to actually push through any issues I have and DO IT because if I don't at least try, I can't ever know if it will take off or not. If I fail, that's okay. At least I tried (and I don't want to give up even if I do fail). But I have to at least try. I've been working too long to just not move forward with this.
My hubby was off from work for an entire year. And his migraines were well under control. But the minute he goes back to work, they come back in full force. As I write this, he's taken the day off and his sleeping next to me with yet another migraine. So, I know the answer to having him live a normal life: I have to become the breadwinner and he needs to be able to just live his life. Having severe anxiety and chronic illness sucks, but I think I can do this. I have to at least try. For him. For us. For my family. For everyone my program will help. I just hope it takes off. And my family will be protected and well-cared for.
And that's all. For now. Despite these two instances of weirdness, my mother is pretty much docile and nice and sweet, all day every day. I am soooooo freaking lucky that her narcissism go better with dementia. My grandmother's did, too. So many out there get worse with it, and so I know how very lucky I am.
Until later.
When my mom went to the family reunion back in 2013 when The Great Awakening happened, she told the entire family "I don't know why Shay has never done anything with her life." Funny, I was a mother of two young boys, who I homeschooled. My mother? Was the one who never did anything with her life. Not a damn thing. She didn't even raise me. Sure, she bought food, kept me fed (with crappy food), and kept me clothed. But she didn't nurture me. She didn't even have empathy when I hurt myself. In fact, now that I think about it, me getting hurt actually not only makes her uncomfortable, but angry. A few years ago I had a migraine and she slapped me in the head several times. And more recently, when she knew I had a migraine, she would yell on purpose to hurt my head more. As a kid, she'd tell me to shut up if I cried or she'd laugh at me or mock me for crying. In 2022, I was in the ER with a burst cyst on my ovary, and I got home and she was so livid that she slammed a door into my back, right where I was in pain. If you're a therapist, tell me, what the fuck can make a person angry about being hurt? So weird.
Anyways. She had said this, most likely projecting onto me how she felt about herself. But today I realized something else, other than my autistic PDA, that makes it impossible for me to "make something of myself":
My kids.
Not in a mean way. But I have a two higher needs autistic kids who are in their middle twenties and still need me as their caretakers. And I don't have the time or ability to do a whole lot for myself (though sometimes I do, and I still can't, due to my autism/PDA). I am not blaming them. I am just realizing that I have made something of myself. I may not be the best at it, but I am a mom. First and foremost, above most things, I am a mother. Yes, I get burnt out and I want to run away sometimes, and I fail, quite a bit. But I am a real mom (unlike my mom, who is a "for show mom"). And while I may need more breaks than other moms, due to my autism and my PDA, I am still a mom and the best one I can be at any given moment. I am trying to do better for my kids, and I don't always do it, but I don't give up. That's one thing in life I don't give up on. My oldest son may tell you I give up a lot, and that I am lazy, but I have anxiety, autism, and PDA (and POTS and fibro, etc.). He can't see those things or does he think they're valid (because his autism blinds him to the fact that these things affect me, and he is usually only concerned with what affects him), but they are valid and they are real. I don't need his approval in that way to know I am a good mom and I am trying my best.
But either way, my mother is wrong. I may not be a famous writer (yet) or a famous artist (yet) or a whatever whatever (yet). But for now, I am mom. And a damn good one at that. And while I do need time for my own identity and my own interests and my own life, my kids are high needs and I have to do more than most moms at the ages that my children are. And that's a LOT to ask of a single person. But I am not sitting here blaming them or complaining. It is what it is. I love my kids and I love being a mom.
Unlike my mom, who made all this time for herself and rather than fill it with making something of herself, she filled it with smoking, drinking, and gossiping. Which I wouldn't even be commenting about if she hadn't had projected that shit onto me. But that's who she is. That's who they all are. Simple-minded idiots who think they can control the world with their demands and silliness. Overgrown children, they are. And overgrown children they will always be.
Poor Amanda Bynes. I remember watching her when my kids were growing up on Nickelodeon. Then I saw the expose on Dan Schnieder and I wasn't surprised at all. I had always followed what was going on with her, as I felt so badly for her predicament. She once tweeted how her father verbally, physically, and sexually assaulted her and her mother, Lynn Bynes, wrote this:
"I am heartbroken today for my husband of 47 years. Rick has been the best father and husband a family can ask for. He has never abused Amanda or our other children physically or sexually. These accusations are absolutely horrible and could not be further from the truth! These allegations stem from Amanda's mental state at the moment. They have no basis in reality. It saddens me beyond belief that my husband's character could be slandered in such a way."
I think we all know what that means. Any mother whose response is like this? Is covering up for a guilty person. If you truly loved your daughter and cared about her well-being? Your response would resemble a human being's like this:
"(insert silence here)"
Because REAL parents don't make public statements about their children unless forced to do so, especially not about their child's mental health, which is nobody's business. The ONLY public statement I saw from a mother who didn't seem like a jerk was Ryan Buell's mother who warned people that her son had an issue stealing money from people, so please don't buy any tickets to his programs. He was taking money for tickets (like $80,000) and then not showing up and not giving refunds. I guess he lied about having cancer, too. (I had a friend who did this--the cancer part, not the money part--though he did steal lots of things and went to jail for it). She wrote:
"PLEASE stop enabling his situation by sending money, buying tickets to events that may never occur, buying merchandise/phone calls you may never get, paying money to watch him on Twitch, and giving him offers of shelter ... I am pleading with you out of LOVE for my son and I'm frightened by what his situation has become."
I mean, that's outing his bad behavior without being slanderous. Whereas what Lynn said was protecting her husband, not her child. And that's some narcissisticly codependent fucked up shit. And it sounds like something my mother would post, if she knew how to post things.
So, I kinda believe that Amanda's dad possibly DID do those things to her. Which could be part of why she wanted to be emancipated as a kid. And could explain her having a close relationship with Dan. And she deleted it, sure, but that doesn't mean anything. Maybe she wanted to state the truth, but knew it would hurt her, so she deleted it. I mean, I once went completely transparent on this page and I deleted it because I knew it could be used against me if I were to be found out by my crazy-ass family.
What do you think? As a child of a toxic parent, do you think that Lynn's response reminds you of a narcissistic parent supporting an abuser? Let me know in the comments.
Welcome to Healing From Her.
I am a daughter of a narcissistic mother, one of way too many in this world. If you're here, then you're probably the child of one, too. I hope by reading my words someone out there will realize they aren't alone.
