My mother, 93, is nearing the end in a nursing home very far from where I live. I have a disability that prevents me from getting to her on my own. My husband, 65, was laid off during the pandemic and found a new position nine months ago, but cannot take time off to drive me seven hours there and back. We can't afford for him to risk losing this job at his age.
My mom was brutally abusive to me and my sister, (from whom we're both estranged) physically and psychologically, though she still refuses to admit it. My father passed years ago, but when I was a child, he would routinely have to "pull her off" of us--his words--when he was at home. The psychological abuse continues to this day, but any attempt to broach the subject with my mother has resulted in her screaming at me and calling me crazy. She and her sister (deceased) both suffer from narcissistic personality disorder, and my only female cousin was abused as badly by her self-centric mother. Because I cannot--and quite honestly don't really want to--see her, I've decided to write her. The content of the letter I've drafted isn't nasty or mean, but it is 100% honest. My goal is only to have some closure before she dies. (She came close two weeks ago.) Though of course, nothing I write can undo the damage she's caused, I know expressing my feelings will make me feel better. I don't want to see her leave this world without at least hearing the truth, even if she won't acknowledge it. Am I a horrible person to want to do this?
This is my first time writing this forum. Thank you in advance for any thoughts any of you may have.
I was overwhelmed by the thoughtful, caring, and kind responses to my question, and I am so grateful to each and every one of you who took the time from your busy days to respond. Having so many folks willing to help a complete stranger with a vexing issue was a profoundly humbling experience.
There was a lot to unpack in terms of the variety of answers and advice everyone offered. I wrote a letter - in fact, rewrite followed rewrite followed rewrite, until I had a result I was comfortable with. There was no nastiness, no name-calling, no laundry list of brutality or specific actions and deeds referenced. My mother knows what she did. I also wished her comfort in her days and peace in her heart and mind; and regretted that we never had the loving mother/daughter bond others share.
I thought a great deal about all the advice you had shared, and many of you mentioned forgiveness. So I offered her that, but only after I expressed to her how much damage her abuse had caused - because I needed her to know that. (And maybe it was time for me to be a little selfish for a change.) I needed her to know what her abuse cost me throughout my life; relationships that I could never trust, years and years of therapy, the loss of potential and self-esteem that plagued me for so long. And then I wrote that I forgave her for that, but that I would never forget.
Please know that I went into this never expecting anything in return from her. Not acknowledgement, not acceptance, not understanding, and most certainly not an apology. So there will be no more hurt from her to me.
There seemed to be two schools of thought on whether or not to send the letter, and for days I vacillated, wondering what would help me the most. In the end, I sent it.
I feel a great sense of freedom and relief, having in essence severed ties with her for good. I will not see or speak to her again, and I am fine with that.
As an aside, I should have made clear in my original post is that my mother was actually diagnosed with NPD by a psychiatrist (who wasn't looking for that, but hit on it during a comprehensive mental exam a few years back). I agree that lay people probably shouldn't bandy terms like that freely about, as one person suggested, but in my mother's case, it was a valid medical diagnosis.
To all of you who shared your experiences that were so much like mine, please know that I stand with you and feel your pain. It takes courage and a certain amount of grace to share the brutality of abuse with the world at large. And to all of you that took the time to help a stranger, I am deeply and humbly grateful for your generosity.
Harrysmom
Hope this helps....
It wasn't physical abuse for me, but certainly emotional/psychological.
The best advice I have on that - as someone who has accepted that my mother will move on from this life without ever acknowledging or apologizing for such things - is that, cliche as it sounds, forgiveness is truly a gift that you give yourself.
Her treatment of you is something she has to live with, even if only for a short time. You, however, have the choice to let it go. Hard as that sounds to do - it still remains within your power.
And remember - everything is a communication. If deep down, on some twisted level, her ambitions to torment you were based upon the reaction it elicited, your not responding to them in the traditional way still sends her a message. And that message is, you have healed yourself, and risen above.
I hope that helps you. I have nothing but empathy for those feelings, believe me.
and this:
“And that message is, you have healed yourself, and risen above.”
:)
i wish it for us all :).
warm hug from me, erzoolie :).
You're in the room as one of a team nursing a dying woman in her last hours. A letter arrives for her. It's your patient's right to receive it, but if she can't open the letter or hold it or see well enough to read, it's your job - with her permission - to open it for her and read it to her.
Would you?
Things like this are challenging when you are not the life long target and haven't experienced abuse by a parent.
She is not worthy of any more effort than that.
It’s ultimately pointless to attempt to hold a severely mentally ill person responsible for their behaviour. They are incapable of accepting any responsibility. There is no satisfaction to be had.
I have thought for decades of giving my mother the laundry list on her death bed of her acts of extreme abuse and neglect. There’s no point. Any trivial thing now, she screams, “Shut up! You’re lying. You’re a liar! I never said that, I never did that.” Her mental illnesses (NPD and borderline) make her incapable of dealing psychologically with the repercussions of her behaviour. I pity her.