Just Lynn

One woman. One name. One hell of an attitude!


Written By: witchypo - Sep• 02•11

For years, my mother’s been calling to guilt me out about and not visiting her and her (deceased) parents. Because it’d gone on so long, I’d sort of gotten used to it. When my stepfather died this summer, though, she took her ‘game’ to the next level and had me so tightly wound that I was worried I’d snap out completely. When I could take no more, I finally spoke up.

Of course, she played innocent and denied everything, but I wasn’t backing off… not this time. Instead, I interrupted with something like. ‘Mom! You always said I was ‘crazy’… Is that what you want? ‘Cause I’ll lock myself up before I listen to this shit…!’

‘But, sweetheart!’ she gasped. ‘I’m your mother! I’d never…!’

‘Maybe not ‘consciously’,’ I allowed, ‘but you’ve made it clear…’ and when she wouldn’t listen, I got specific.

I reminded her of my earliest years when she’d called me ‘worry wart’, ‘morbid’, ‘backward’, and more. By the time I was a pre-teen, I told her, family had asked me to accept the trauma and stress of home as ‘normal’ for so long that I suffered nightmares (that lasted into adulthood). When she denied any knowledge of them, I reminded her of how she’d called me ‘unmanagable’ and had me put on Valium ’till I collapsed and my father said ‘enough!’

Then, I reminded her of all the times I’d tired to tell her about men sexually interfering with me and she’d blamed me rather than helping, of the times she’d gotten into ‘moods’ and tossed me out of the house when I was a teenager, or when she’d ignored serious medical issues like my chronic bronchitus. ‘You say I should have listenned to your advice,’ I said, in response to her arguments, ‘but you were too wrapped up in your own drama to know who I was!’

I moved on then, explaining that the message she’d given me thoughout the years was that I was ‘crazy’, ‘unlovable’, and ‘damaged’.

‘Of course, my Ex picked up on all that pretty quickly,’ I told her. ‘So, all he had to do was make clear from the get-go that if I defied or left him he’d prove I was nuts, send the kids to live with his folks down east, and I’d never see them again.’

‘Thing is, though,’ I said, ‘I eventually figured out that I was much stronger, saner, and more lovable than either of you gave me credit for, and when I figured that out, I left him… and I’ll ‘disconnect’ from you too if I have to.’

That was about the time, if I remember correctly, that she apologized and asked for a ‘fresh start’, but I’d herd that so many times that I didn’t even blink. Instead, I told her that I loved her and wanted her in my life, but that words meant nothing to me, and it was up to her to ‘prove’ it by cutting it out!’

Talking to people like that never comes easily to me, but when push comes to shove, ‘self-preservation’ sometimes gives me the strength and I can only hope that… this time… she might actually have herd me. Mean time, I’ve a bigger fish to fry because there’s someone else who’s been giving me the same message, and it’s going to take everything I’ve got to talk to him.

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