Yesterday I had my second counselling session. It felt like such a relief to let some of it out again. It felt like a relief to be in a room that is meant for that.
The two most impactful things that happened in that room yesterday were:
1. She told me that it would not be appropriate for Ivy to be in my mom's life unless/until she can maintain a healthy relationship with me. I don't know why I need permission for keeping Ivy from my mom, but I do. I have been questioning all of my own decisions and assessments so much these days. It felt so good to hear a professional say that it is an appropriate course right now to keep going exactly as I am as far as contact with my mom goes. She encouraged me several times to stay the course in that way and when I referred to Ivy as an anchor that kept me from opening the door back up to my mom (which I desperately want to some days), she was supportive of me not opening the door and glad that Ivy served as an anchor to stop me from giving myself the relief that that move has always provided (the easiest part of our cycle where we leave the struggle behind and things are okay for awhile).
2. She asked me if I am struggling with guilt or shame. I realized what a distinct difference there is in those two things and also realized that I struggle with both.
It has been hard to define what I am feeling. I was trying to ask a question and her answer kept telling me that I wasn't asking the right question. The answer she was giving was one I knew, and the answer to what I really wanted to ask, I do not know. I tried again and I don't think I even knew until that moment what I was struggling with so much. I asked her if by angering with my mom and being a part of it in that way, what was my role in it? How dysfunctional am I?
Our cycle always seemed to have a very similar theme to it. There was something that my mom wanted to control or there would be a boundary I was requesting that she was resisting. She would try to achieve a change in my feelings/decision/actions/request of boundary by shaming me and/or stating that my request for a boundary did not come from a valid place. There was no problem. Or I was the problem. Or where there was no way to deny the problem, I just needed to get over it, and she would deflect that problem and her responsibility in it by bringing up a host of things that were her go-to for when there was no where else to go. Over the last few years, those things usually included comments about my husbands family, comments about how everyone has to get help because of me, telling me my brother had to see a therapist and told them that he feels like a bad person and like he doesn't deserve love (she never outright said that it was because of me, but the inclusion of that statement always right after telling me that everyone has to get help because of me always suggested that to me), a comment or two suggesting that other people feel the same way as her (i.e.; "Aunty Dar and I just didn't know what to make of your invitation to Ivy's birthday" or "we were all talking about it and none of us could believe that you didn't say goodbye to your brother at Ivy's Christening"). Always in a bewildered, innocent, concerned or disapproving tone. I would usually know that she was not being truthful in stating things like that, but even still, that line began to blur by the end and she had me believing that many people do take issue with me over things that probably only she really cares about.
Weeks or months would go by while the tension between us would build. I would begin to pull away. My pulling away would ignite the worst behaviour from her, she would start pulling out all the stops. At the worst of times, she would bring other people into the fold and begin to manipulate other people's perception of me or willingness to see me if she couldn't. There were times she would refuse to see my daughter (each time in protest of not getting to baby-sit) and at those times, she made other people feel guilty if they saw her. The more I would try to distance myself, the less she would let it go. The phone calls, texts and emails would increase. Eventually, I would feel so trapped and upset and it would become too much for me. At that point, usually there would come a time where I would confront her and I would do it from a place of feeling trapped and angry. I would try to hold her accountable to what she had been doing. She would deny, deflect, invalidate, etc. Every time it came to the point of confrontation, I would go into it committing to myself to remain calm, not let her get to me and just firmly state my boundaries and get out of there. Almost every time, I would fail. She would act completely bewildered, tell me she was concerned about me and that she thinks I need help, she would accept responsibility for her actions in a way that would make me look completely irrational (i.e. I'm sorry, you father and I thought that keeping medications that are in childproof containers up on the second shelf was okay. I made a mistake, my bad!" - when the whole fight was about leaving heavy duty medications in flip top lids right on the counter time and time again after excessive requests not to, baggies with pills in them in the medicine cabinet, pill bottles with the lids not even on, and plenty of additional medications all on the bottom shelf, well within my daughter's reach). She would make me feel like my reality did not exist and that she was bewildered about what this was all about. That months of tensions mounting was all over something that I must have imagined or just simply don't remember right. Some things she would just deny. "I didn't hang up on Chris on Ivy's birthday!! I called and sang happy birthday to her!" I would eventually just lose it in frustration and I would yell at her. I would say all the same things, but I would yell them. She would often at that point do things like hit herself over and over saying she was stupid. She would yell back at me, "I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY!! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? I WAS AN AWFUL MOTHER. I SHOULD JUST GO AWAY!!" This was the point where she would sometimes yell that she had been abused and secure her place as a victim. At the worst of times, she would threaten to kill herself. She would end up in the bathroom with the door closed, wailing.
After those encounters, we usually wouldn't speak for awhile. Our contact would be limited for about a week usually and then she would start contacting me wanting to just act like things are okay again and I would eventually give in and let it get brushed under, unresolved. I would feel guilty for having hurt her and taken her to the edge like that and that guilt would make me let go of whatever I had been fighting for.
These encounters have been a regular occurrence since the time I have been pregnant with my daughter. They were a regular occurrence at other times of my life as well, but they have not been as bad as the last 3 years since I lived at home. They have become like clockwork. The whole cycle usually would take about 3 months or less to run its course and it would happen over and over and over. Now, standing on the outside of it for a couple of months, I need to know what part of that dysfunction is mine to own. I don't think I can find peace until I do.
I am so grateful to have the space and support to go through this. I am ready to tackle it. It is scary, but I know this will sink me if I do not dig very very deep and get rid of what I never truly realized had seeped in so much - shame.
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