It was a dark and stormy night. No. Let me start again. My cardiologist emphasized that I needed to drastically reduce my stress this past December. I had to put some toxic people on the back burner, and that included my brother and mother. My mother lived 4.5 miles from me. Long story short, after a visit to my brother's on the west coast at Christmas, they decided to move my mother out there to be with him. I was not even told of their plans. I found out in passing from an acquaintance of my mother's.
I had 2 weeks of scrambling to adjust to this new situation before the movers came. I saw her once, wrote 2 letters and took them to her living facility, and initiated 3 phone calls. She and I were able to sit down and talk for 2 hours the night before she left. She said that she made a lot of mistakes by not being supportive of me when I was growing up. She was very adversarial, and complained to anyone who would listen about how her daughter was such a disappointment to her. She threw me under the bus whenever she could. At 64, and a lifetime of the thousands of paper-cuts to my soul, I feel nothing at this point.
Now she thinks that a "new relationship" will be formed once she is settled 2,300 miles away. My brother arrived on moving day, acting very distant towards me. After we had spent 7 strained hours together, with moments of weak connections between us, I left their company. But before I did, I broke down crying....not for my mother leaving, but because I will never, ever have the relationship I needed and deserved from a mother. All the love, smiles, and nurturing went to my younger brother.
He texted me pictures of the two on them on the airplane, then in the limousine as they traveled to his home. There has been a hole ripped in my soul. The "golden-haired" son is with my mother, and the daughter-from-hell has been kicked to the curb. They don't want to understand Borderline. They don't even recognize that I am 28 years sober from alcoholism, and no one has asked about my heart health. Not once. Ever.
This is bitter to swallow. I want to cut myself and stick ice-picks in my eyeballs. Welcome to a Borderline as she tries to make sense of her disappointing world. Life isn't fair. My life is a prison term of my thoughts, my emotions, and my trampled self-esteem. I have been in Borderline recovery since 2004. Don't let the stories mislead you....one can never get past the damaging effects of Borderline.
I had 2 weeks of scrambling to adjust to this new situation before the movers came. I saw her once, wrote 2 letters and took them to her living facility, and initiated 3 phone calls. She and I were able to sit down and talk for 2 hours the night before she left. She said that she made a lot of mistakes by not being supportive of me when I was growing up. She was very adversarial, and complained to anyone who would listen about how her daughter was such a disappointment to her. She threw me under the bus whenever she could. At 64, and a lifetime of the thousands of paper-cuts to my soul, I feel nothing at this point.
Now she thinks that a "new relationship" will be formed once she is settled 2,300 miles away. My brother arrived on moving day, acting very distant towards me. After we had spent 7 strained hours together, with moments of weak connections between us, I left their company. But before I did, I broke down crying....not for my mother leaving, but because I will never, ever have the relationship I needed and deserved from a mother. All the love, smiles, and nurturing went to my younger brother.
He texted me pictures of the two on them on the airplane, then in the limousine as they traveled to his home. There has been a hole ripped in my soul. The "golden-haired" son is with my mother, and the daughter-from-hell has been kicked to the curb. They don't want to understand Borderline. They don't even recognize that I am 28 years sober from alcoholism, and no one has asked about my heart health. Not once. Ever.
This is bitter to swallow. I want to cut myself and stick ice-picks in my eyeballs. Welcome to a Borderline as she tries to make sense of her disappointing world. Life isn't fair. My life is a prison term of my thoughts, my emotions, and my trampled self-esteem. I have been in Borderline recovery since 2004. Don't let the stories mislead you....one can never get past the damaging effects of Borderline.
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