Releasing Maternal Pain

April is a weird time for me. I love that it's spring and the weather steadily improves. I love that I can go on walks and enjoy the sunshine. I love that things feel bright and exciting.

However, the spring also holds a lot of bad memories for me.

These experiences started when I was in college. One year, there was something that happened. I was probably 18 or 19. I genuinely cannot remember what the trigger was. I said something that upset my mom, and she threatened to kick me out of the house. There were a lot of tears over the course of multiple days, and I was told that I needed to apologize and make amends, so we could all move on. It was multiple days of the silent treatment until I apologized for whatever I did or said, and then the next day, things went right back to "normal". No conversation necessary. We just kept moving forward and pretended nothing had happened.

There were other blow ups and other weeks of silent treatments. Avoidance of conversations. My brain hasn't registered and remembered all of them, but there are a few that stand out.

One was in April 2020 because my brother stopped by and made a joke about waking me up. My mom took that moment to blow up at me about how rude and disrespectful I was to the other members of our house because I would play games with my friends on Zoom, and she yelled that I had no right to be upset at being woken up. Again, super healthy communication habits.

For the record, at no point was I upset at my brother, and it wasn't the conversation we were having. Our conversation ended with me sobbing and driving to my friend's house to ask if we could go on a walk. This was the origin of my Covid walks with Andrea. I needed a place to go that wasn't in my house or near my mom.

The final April memory that sticks in my body is from 2023. My mom had tested positive for Covid. She did not inform me, and I only found out through my brother. She hadn't been wearing a mask and hadn't been at our house much during that time because she was helping at her church sale. When I found out, I tested myself and asked my sister if I could stay with her because I was upset at my mom's decision. I packed a few days' worth of belongings because I hadn't decided how long I was staying at my sister's.

At the end of that week, I went home to drop some things off and grab some others. While I packed, I opened the window and closed my door. I wore a mask. As I went to leave, my dad told me the reasons I wasn't told that she had Covid. I responded that it felt really disrespectful to me to not tell me. I had a routine and came into contact with people, and it wasn't fair that I had been in a home with someone not taking Covid seriously.

Out of nowhere, my mom came barreling down the hallway, screaming! Her screech was so loud that I couldn't understand what she was saying. She was flailing her arms in my direction and telling me that I was the one who was disrespectful to them.

I told her that if she wanted to talk, we were going to have to stand in the garage because I wanted the fresh air. When we got to the hallway between the kitchen and garage, my mom was telling me how mad she was at me. She was so mad she could strangle me! In that moment, she decided that it was logical to attempt to strangle me.

She came at me so hard and so quick that my instincts kicked in. I put up my arm in defense. Due to her speed, when my hand made contact with her shoulder, she went fumbling backwards to the ground. As she fell, she grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down with her. I stood over her, one arm on her shoulder, keeping her down. The other arm in defense in case I needed to hit her.

My dad was on the other side of my mom, watching the interaction, screaming at us because he was so confused by what was happening. He ran in between us, and when he got to a place where I felt safe enough to do so, I jumped back from her and got out of the house.

After we got our bearings, my mom followed me outside. While I stood next to my car, my mom yelled at me about how much she hates me! I went to Michigan State, so I think I am better than everyone else. I learned about white privilege and made her feel bad about it, but she doesn't have white privilege, only I do. I am the most privileged of white people. (She clearly didn't understand the white privilege conversation, so I clearly made her feel stupid... Narcissists can't stand being inferior to others.) She told me that I am rude and ungrateful and shared a whole bunch of other reasons why she hates me. She told me that I was no longer welcome in that house, and I could find my belongings on the driveway.

I calmly told my mom that she and I were done with our "conversation," and I would be talking to my father. He and I stood in the driveway and talked for a really long time.

We talked about the need to feel loved and appreciated, which led to a really vulnerable conversation that is still very meaningful to me. We talked about how this happens once a year, and in the game of hot potato, it was always in my hands when it exploded. It was especially hard when the upset should be steered at my brother, her golden child, the one who does no wrong. (For the record, I love my brother, and I do think he's amazing. However, I don't like being the fall guy for him. It's not his fault that our mom did this, but I definitely didn't deserve to be "punished" as I always was through these blowups.)

I told him that I was not going to play the role of waiting a few days for her to calm down, so things could go back to normal. I told him I was out.

On the way from my parents' house, I called my brother to tell him what happened. We cried. When I got to my sister's house, I told her what happened, and I told her I was now going to live with her because I didn't want to be murdered by my mom. My sister told me I should have called the police and pressed charges.

I am grateful that I was looking into narcissism before this encounter because it helped me to understand that she was having a temper tantrum. It helped me to understand that narcissistic relationships can get worse but not better, and I understood that she told me what she thought of me because she thought she could get away with that behavior. It had helped me to understand that my mom is incapable of apologizing or taking ownership for her actions and that if I continued my relationship, I would have to be okay with moving forward and pretending nothing had happened.

The rational part of my mind is okay and at peace with what happened on that day. I mean, it's not okay, but I have the conclusion to my relationship with my mom, and I understand what happened from her perspective. I also understand that I can only control myself and my decisions, and I have made peace with moving on with my life at the expense of relationships with her and with those who want me to forgive and forget what happened.

I have been told that it's time to get over it or that my mom loves me deep down. I have been told "you know how your mom is," and "you're the bigger person, so we are asking you to be the bigger person and accept her and move on."

What she did and said to me is not okay. A mother's love should be unconditional, and a mother shouldn't attempt to murder her child. I won't accept that behavior, and family does not get a free pass for abuse. If this was a boyfriend, no one would tell me to take him back. The response shouldn't be different because she's my mom.

I digress.

While I rationally feel at peace with this ending, my body holds this trauma. On Wednesday, I had the worst anxiety I have had in a while. My body was shaking, and I was unable to think clearly because my body was in a panic. It remembered the anniversary, even if it was a day late.

Whenever I go to Michigan to visit, particularly when I know I have to see my mom, such as for her mother's funeral, I get extreme anxiety. For the record, this happened when I was still in Michigan, such as the day of my sister's wedding shower. I locked myself in the bathroom because I was anxious she would hurt me. Even when I rationally know that's not what will happen, my body holds this fear.

As a result of this recent batch, I bought a weighted blanket. I needed something to sit on my chest and press down on the stress swirling around. In thinking about the fact that my body holds the memory, I decided that I am going to get acupuncture to hopefully release the pent up energy. (Stay tuned for an update sometime in May.)

I am also hoping that by writing this and releasing it, I can let this leave my body. I don't want to have this lingering effect for the rest of my life. It's not my burden to bear.

Let this energy return to sender. May she get the effects of what harm she has caused.

Additionally, let enough time pass with positive April memories that my body can replace the negativity for something more lovely.