Saturday, 18 October 2014

Why I Have Written This Blog (Read This First)

This post was written first in October 2013. I have pushed it to the top of this blog because it needs to be read first. All other posts are posted from most recent to earliest.

There is a link about two thirds through this post. Click on the link when you see it. It is important to read it.

What No Contact (NC) Is and Is Not
NC is not us punishing her/them. It is us protecting ourselves by not having contact with an abuser. It's that simple.

A timeline of the last few years.

We lent My Mother (herein called Momster) and Her Husband (HH) $20,000. We had lent them money before and they had always paid us back. We didn't think anything of it. They had a great unit and racehorses and were constantly going on holidays and cruises and they had just bought a Jaguar. After all, they told us they only sold the BIG house and moved into the unit because it was becoming too much for them. 

Nothing to be concerned about right? And we could trust Momster and HH. They were good people, right? They had so much integrity, right?

Mothers love their children right?

July 2010
My partner AB fell off our roof and nearly died; 15 fractures, collapsed lungs, torn shoulders, the works. He needed a lot of putting back together and care. I was working full time, caring for him and trying to keep our business alive on the side. I was so grateful I still had him with me I did not notice how tired and stressed I was getting. I just kept going. I had been trained as a child to keep going. To cope. To endure. To never consider how I was 'feeling'.

November 2010
Then AB's mother had a stroke and subsequently died. The family home had to be sold, along with everything that entails, including more stress. I really was at my limit of being able to cope. 

But * I * Kept * Coping *

While all of this was going on I was getting asked repeatedly for money by Momster, sometimes she screamed down the phone  - " The vultures are circling, are you going to help us or not" - when a race horse they 'owned' was not getting the price they wanted in the sale yard. Other times she did her 'woe is me you are such a good daughter can you help us' act.

It didn't matter which act was used, the hoovering (yes, like the vacuum cleaner that is designed to suck things in), the result was the same: I was a Dutiful Daughter who had never allowed to establish boundaries with Momster and I got sucked in.

I kept lending them money, trusting Momster, trusting HH. Stupid huh?

March 2011
Momster and HH handed us a statutory declaration (still have it btw). The Stat Dec outlined the loans we had made to them as of March '11: $75,000.

"We agree to pay this back as soon as possible, with interest calculated at 8%, starting from 1st March, 2011. This interest will be annual and added to the amount each year until paid".

Momster said, in case they died, we could claim against their estate. We did not ask for this Stat Dec and was duly impressed with their honesty. We trusted them. After all, they said when they sold their unit they would pay us back.

But when I read it now I see it was just a piece of paper with ink on it. It was just another manipulative tactic.

April 2011
They were going broke and the last asset they had was the capital in their unit. We (thinking generously) made a decision they could build a 'granny flat' in the space that was my art studio, move in with us, sell the unit and pay us back. They would pay for the build. 

We thought that was a fair plan: they would not be homeless or at the mercy of free market rent and we would get our money back. As they got older we would look after them and help where we could. We were trying to help them. We were trying to be good people. We were trying to do the 'right thing'. We were trying to 'fix' things.

Every friend we spoke to said loudly, "Don't do it". My Family of Origin (FOO) did not say a thing.

FOO is a balancing act where every person has their role and anyone stepping outside their role causes havoc to the FOO dynamic.

May 2011
AB's mother's estate was finalised and AB inherited some money. We sold the business (at a bargain rate out of need) and he went in for surgery the very next day: 12 weeks rehab and physio followed. I was still trucking along managing clients across this vast State I live in.

What neither of us realised was Momster and HH had their eyes on his inheritance. 

She often said: 'My father left me nothing but a $50 note'.

What she meant was: 'Why should AB get something that I did not get'. 

Somebody getting something that she did not means there is less in the world for her.

June 2011
Being such a Dutiful Daughter I gave my mother a credit card (on my account) so they could start building. A friend of theirs was the main builder, 'RS'. We all pitched in, including AB when his shoulder healed (thanks for asking, he was diligent with the physio and made a full recovery).

During the six months June to January, all up we were out of pocket $190,000+. But we were now the proud owners of a very expensive shed. 

They sucked us dry. But they would pay us back when the unit was sold…

Little did we know they were borrowing elsewhere - $30k off her brother and his wife (and who knows what from other people. Did they ask you for a loan?). They knew the total debt they were carrying could not be covered by the unit's capital. We did not.

$100k PLUS to fit out a shed with second hand goods and mates rates labour? Where did our money go?

January 2012
Momster and HH moved in to the granny flat with a great deal of help from friends and family. From that moment on, unbelievably, * things * got * worse *.

She knew no boundaries, walking into our home whenever she took the fancy; night or day; whether I was working from home or not; whether we expressly told her not to. Nope. It was all about her: her need to control, to be worshipped, listened to, helped, paid attention to.

And we needed to be put in our places!

We lost all privacy in our own home and AB's depression, which he had been battling quite well for more than a decade, was well and truly spiralling out of control.

* I * Kept * Coping *

I was such a Dutiful Daughter. So helpful, so forgiving, so used to doing whatever she wanted, when she wanted it done, how she wanted it done, preferably before she even asked. She had trained me up well!

Pavlov's Dog ringing any bells?

April 2012
Still dutiful, still helpful, still generous and willing to try and make this situation work, we spent two weeks cleaning and repainting their unit so they would get a good price when it was sold.

May 2012
The unit sold and that was when they dropped the bombshell.

"We can only pay you $30,000 back. We have other debts to pay. And we need to keep $10,000 for ourselves".

The conversation went something like this:

Us - WTF! Pay us back and go bankrupt. Put us first.
Them - No.
Us - Why not?
Them - Why should we?
Us - Because you are bankrupt and we are more important than a credit card company…
Them - We need our pride…get over it.

What debts could be more important than money lent to you by your daughter and her partner? Their false pride versus doing the right thing, let alone our financial future?

We went numb.  We went into shock. We tried to rationalise this decision of theirs. And make no mistake, it was both of them. HH was not prepared to go bankrupt because then he would have to hand in his racecourse membership. Such hardship!

For the record, they did not pay us rent. They (sometimes) paid the $200 a week interest bill on the money they owed us. 

Their horse would come in and win, they said.
They would be able to pay us back, they said.

Get over it, she said. Again and again.

The one thing they never said was sorry. They have never apologised, not once, in any form whatsoever, for anything. 

What is ours is hers, what is hers is hers. 
So be careful, what is yours may end up hers as well.

July 2012
I was diagnosed with a possible heart condition and spent three weeks wondering if I was going to drop dead before the angiogram. Turns out it was JUST stress. Funny that.

Needless to say we were not 'getting over it'. My Mother and Her Husband had stolen so much money off us they had ruined our financial future and changed the shape of lives so profoundly that we would have to sell our house, eventually.

Depression hit, along with too much alcohol.

And because we could not 'forgive and forget' and act like nothing had ever happened, as I have always done in the past (even when she dumped me on my grandmother so she could hang out with her boyfriend when I was in high school), her rages ramped up. 

The screaming at us, the picking of fights, the put downs, the verbal attacks and name calling. 

But I did not see this as abuse. Abuse was sexual, broken bones and bloody faces wasn't it? That's what I had always been told. This was just Momster's behaviour when no one who 'counted' was around to see it. 

It was my normal. 

"Nothing exposes our true selves more than how we treat each other in the home" - Joseph B Wirthlin

We started to argue between ourselves, my gentle, lovely AB and me. The whole situation, the lead up to it, the compounded stress of years of bullshit had started to affect our relationship. 

And then the stress got worse (yes it's possible).

September 2012
My Mother and Her Husband were staying at brother 'D's house when I got a phone call from brain-damaged brother, 'S'. His partner 'H' of 10 years had dropped dead the night before of a massive heart attack. 

S was bereft, distraught, terrified. In need of comfort, security, support.

I called Momster to tell her and within days she had admitted herself to hospital with neck pain. It turned into a chest infection, which meant she did not have to go to the funeral and was off the hook. Even 'H's' death had to be about Momster. I went to the funeral and had my first ever, full-blown panic attack. I held myself together on 20 milligrams of Valium a day.

October 2012
Back home the abuse continued from Momster. During one verbal assault the following happened.

I said: So the last little bit of your life is worth the same as the next one third of ours?
She said: Of course!
I said: You are nothing but a bully and always have been.
She said: I spent half a million bringing you up so you still owe me. GET OVER IT!

I was still in shock when I Googled "sense of entitlement" and found myself here. That was my light bulb moment.

But like a Dutiful Daughter and her kind, polite spouse, we still showed up to HH's October birthday party and played 'happy families'. It's all about her image after all.

The breakdown of her first marriage had nothing to do with her either (BTW - my father did not bash, beat or hit his wife regardless of what she tells you. I lived in that house. I know, as do my brothers. We were the ones hit, by both of them).

November 2012
To compound the stress and the grief AB and I were feeling (and it was grief, because the people we thought they were had died), our beloved white dog died suddenly one night. 

The spiral kept going downwards.

Take 1: AB's 50th. Our planned trip to Bribie Island was cancelled as AB's sister was hospitalised for suspected lung cancer (+ to stress quotient).

December 2012
Take 2: AB's 50th. A flash dinner with friends was cancelled - bushfire on the ridge and we were on evacuation alert…

January 2013
By now neither of us was coping very well. I saw my GP, who gave me a choice, medication or therapy: diagnosis - severe anxiety. I chose therapy. My GP gave me medication as well. 

Seeing a therapist was, next to choosing AB to share my life, the single best thing I have ever done for myself.

Take 3: AB's 50th. We plan another week at Bribie. A few days before we leave there was another huge fight picked by My Mother. She came into our house yet again and * just * picked * a * fight * (+ to stress quotient again).

You see, I had sold two pieces of furniture she had given us over the years (apparently she had just loaned them to me for 15 years) and she flew into a rage (the full story is posted under The Great Furniture Saga). 

Getting nowhere abusing me, she directed the rage onto AB. He responded by yelling at her to get out of our house. She screamed insults at him ("you are shades of her father" was a beauty!). He screamed back at her to get out of our house. 

He called her a narcissistic bitch as she left.

At which point she calmly said,* I * Am * Not * A * Narcissist *

I had another light bulb moment: I am sure she actually got a diagnosis when I was in my early twenties and I will post that story later. 

We left for Bribie Island a couple of days later.

Take 3: AB's 50th. A week on Bribie and I started therapy. Sadly, AB's birthday ended up with us waiting for a 'We are not in Kansas anymore' moment; ex-Cyclone Oswald and a tornado hit the island. Back home it flooded our house.

AB, by default, stayed 49 years old. Yay!

When we returned home My Mother spoke not a word to us. Even when we hitched up generators and electricity cables, she simply turned her nose in the air, as if suffering mortal offense and waiting for an apology from us.

Deep sigh! 

It's all about how wounded she was feeling of course. It's all about her. It's all about control. Always has been.

March 2013
Still not a word has passed between us and her. 

Happy Easter: our brown dog was attacked by wild dogs. Nearly dead from the mauling, she pulled through after a very expensive 11 day stay in hospital (further + to stress quotient).

May 2013
AB is hospitalised for depression.

June 2013
AB comes home and is a bit better. In the first week or so home he fixes up his gym and hangs some wardrobe door mirrors on the gym wall (Momster bought them on eBay with our money but they were not used, just left cluttering up the gym for a year and a half: cost was $10/$20).

But she can't leave well enough alone. She needs to control.

AB is in his garage when she comes in ranting at him - he stole her 'expensive' mirrors and hung them in his gym. He is a thief! (This is projection BTW, more about that later).

A few hours later I walked out to the flat and told them they had to find somewhere else to live, because we could not continue living under these circumstances. I did not give them a deadline, but told them to get organised to leave and to put all further communication in writing. No more verbal abuse and no more bullying would be tolerated.

I set a boundary for the first time and was prepared to see it through - thank you therapy!

July 2013
Seven weeks after the above, on July 17th, I emailed them (cc to brother 'D,' so he knew what was going on), asking what their plans were, and for all further communication be in writing.

Yay! I reinforced a boundary - thank you therapy!

August 2013
She replied August 7th.
Subject: Your plans to leave
We are not prepared to communicate only by electronic means.  This whole thing has gone on for too long. We would like to begin again and talk to you when you return, at your chosen time. The past is gone and can't be undone. We have no bad feelings towards you or AB and hope you can feel the same.
Hate does nothing but destroy people.

Notice her complete disregard for my boundary? I can see that now - thank you therapy!

Notice how nothing is her fault. Notice how we are expected to 'forget and forgive' and start again.

But after a lightbulb moment abuse amnesia is not possible - the world is just too bright. 
I send two more emails and stick to my boundary about all communication being in writing.

Not a word has been spoken between her and me for 8 months. The only time she has spoken to AB is when she is accusing him of theft, being a loser or just plain ranting at him. 

A friend of ours comes to visit near the end of the month, 'L'.

Then on August 30th, the email that makes my decision to hand a Notice to Leave form pops up in the in-box.

"Subject: Your plans to throw us out
It will be in the nearish future. I suggest you research Korsakoffs Syndrome , particularly regarding the Extrapolation and the Confabulation  and Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome. The loss of memory, which you may deny, is a force, as you cannot remember from one day to the next. All written down on the computer it is there and not hard to forget.

I stopped the compound interest on the amount you owe me at about $500.000. i have the receipts. No need for that at all.
We will be leaving here after Xmas and you wont have to think about us at all.

Don't be too hard on yourself. Hate achieves nothing and guilt can only be laid on some else if it is there fault
I wonder if I was having FUN and you were just standing there on the outside looking in. I guess you were more of a watcher than a doer.

NB: the $500,000 mentioned above is the debt I owe Momster for bringing me up. If you are a parent, do you have the same attitude towards your children?

But hang on - she has always told me she had never wanted girls. Why didn't I listen?

The difference between shame and guilt is this: 

Guilt is when you have DONE something wrong and you can apologise, make amends, and hopefully, be forgiven.

Shame is when you are told you ARE something wrong. I was a girl and wrong from the day I was born.

September 2013
That email makes my mind up. It's Saturday the 1st and 'L' and I are talking. I am near to an anxiety attack and take some medication to stop my shaking. AB goes to the shed to get away. 

Even now, after all this, he does not want to have to make this decision and sign the form. We are both so sad it has come to this, but I know there is no other option if we are to protect ourselves.

But she can't help herself…

I hear AB calling out, 'Where's that effing form', as he stomps up the back stairs, shaking and furious.

Yep! She did it again. She made the effort to go into his garage and start in on him. He yelled back and walked away. We sign the form, walk out the back with 'L' and hand deliver it.

But I am a bit smarter at this stage of the game and put my phone on 'record'. I won't post it online, but among the lovely things she has to say she says something to me, while pointing at AB, that dispels any doubt I may have had about our decision.

She said: 'There were all these beautiful men in the world and you dragged that home'.

Remember she knows he has been battling depression for decades, she knows he has recently been hospitalised for the same, and she is a trained psyche nurse. 

She knows exactly the damage she is doing. She just does not care.


She sends an email on the 6th telling us an important email will arrive soon…cliff hanging suspense. It arrives on the 7th after being sent to who knows who. 

The gist of it was, her life is perfect, we are f#%ked, give us another $5000 and we will move out. If not, she will have an AVO taken out against AB for abuse. The email is here.

Extortion and blackmail - I engaged a solicitor on the 10th and did not respond to the email. 

And from then on, we were prisoners in our own home, being instructed by both our solicitor and the police to not ever create a situation whereby Momster was alone with AB because, at any time, she could throw herself on the ground and scream battery.

She is a frail, defenceless old lady and everyone who knows AB knows he is a big, violent, nasty man...

October 2013
Over a few weeks they start showing up with a white van and moving stuff. We have still not spoken. On October 15 a removals' truck appeared and two men start loading furniture.

There is one small altercation when I say a box of Christmas decorations are ours not hers. She takes the box off me but I do retrieve my two favourites: a ball made of our white dogs fur and a glass bauble we bought in Singapore. I really don't know how they ended up in her box of deccies, but in comparison to what has been taken off us, WTF, she can keep the shiny, shiny things.

The truck drove off, followed by them. Her elbow was out the passenger window and she smirked her special 'I got away with it' smirk. I know that look well, and I knew she had done something 'wrong'.

We walk out to the flat and look through windows (we don't have a key). We can see most of their stuff is gone: bed, fridge, shelves (leaving holes in the walls), lounges, most everything.

But so is the air conditioner!!!

They ripped the bloody aircon off the wall and stole it.

More shiny things? 

Ripping the aircon off the wall shows they can't be trusted to act honestly at the most basic level. It makes me very angry.

We put a padlock on the gate, call the police and I send a text message to them both (cc to brother 'D'). The text instructs them that, as they have moved out, they need to text us to arrange a time to retrieve the rest of their stuff, as the police will need to be present from now on. 

And that is why we have gone no contact with Momster and HH.

October 20th 2013
HH showed at 9am with two friends.

I speak with HH and say, 'Do not take any fittings or fixtures, do not leave any more holes in walls. And why did you steal the air-con?'

He said: 'You can't prove that. We paid for it with a credit card. We need it'.

The Police attend and have a chat to them. We wait in our house wishing it was all over. Wishing we had never tried to help in the first place.

Most of all I wish I had trusted my gut and gone no contact 20+ years ago. I always knew there was 'something' wrong, but could not put my finger on it.

And I was such a Dutiful Daughter...

So watch yourselves people.

They had no conscience nagging at them when they took advantage of us and our good nature. Chances are they will no conscience nagging at them when it’s your turn to be the one being taken advantage of - emotionally, financially, in whatever way suits her. 

Momster is an emotional vampire of the first order. A malignant, toxic, selfish, thieving, manipulative, deluded, cruel, nasty, witch. HH is her enabler. 
If you don't believe me, drop in, feel free to go through our bank statements and other records. There is no deniability on her part possible.

October 27th 2013
I turn 49 years old. Bro S, one SIL and a niece are the only family members who contact me to wish me happy birthday. For the first time in my life Aunty R does not send me a card. I am officially dead...long live dysfunction!

Saturday, 7 June 2014

Part 2 - History (+ accountability)

'History and Monsters' looks at why an N revises history when they are intent on destroying others to protect their own image. This is about accountability as the driver behind revisionist history. 

Our actions (not our reactions) define us, as does our intent, in all things. The two combine to form the part of our history that is self defined. We own our actions. We own our intent. They define and reflect on nobody but us. This is accountability. Being accountable for our behaviour is one of the hallmarks of being an adult.

Normal Person:
"I did a really-fucked-up-stupid thing. I am sorry. Please forgive. I will never do it again".

"I did what I wanted to do but it appears it does not make me look all that great so I had better hide it".

N's are not adults. They are boundary pushing three year olds hiding chocolate wrappers under cushions and then blaming the dog.

What happens when you call an N out on their version of events?

“You’ve always had a terrible memory” and a quick hand ball to a distraction so you feel like you are the crazy one.
“I didn’t say that” and another quick hand ball to a distraction.
“You ungrateful wretch, how dare you judge me” and maybe a quick hand ball to a further attack on you (which is a distraction by any other name).
“Get over it, nobody’s interested” followed by a distraction.
“Forget it; it’s too long ago to even think about” followed by, you guessed it, another distraction.

Rule One: nobody is allowed to reference the past except the N, unless the reference is her revisionist version, or the reference puts her in a glowing light.

Rule Two: when dealing with an N’s revisionist history, time is stationary. 10 minutes ago is the same as 10 years ago.

Why do N’s have such a need to hide history, to revise it and make time stationary at the same time? It’s not just so they can hide their true character. It is, in fact, a little more insidious. 

When they rewrite history we are placed in a position of not being able to judge them by their past deeds: the habitual and the cumulative. We are left with only THIS moment in time and this ONE thing and, as reasonable people, we intuitively feel it is not fair to judge someone on one thing. And we do this because it is not usually fair to judge a single incident, without reference, because one bad deed does not make a bad person.

Stripped of our ability to reference history we are left in a position whereby we never feel we have the right to judge them at all. It is an endless loop.

1. N does bad thing. 
2. N feigns apology/demands to be forgiven for bad thing. 
3. N does another bad thing and you, being not allowed to reference previous bad act, can only ‘judge’ them on this single (probably non-prosecutable) bad thing. 
1. N does bad thing...

N’s hate history. They hate facts. They hate proof. They revile and then revise history because their behaviour is writ large in their history and it condemns them. 

Remember the quote: Character is revealed by…habitual words and acts.

Part 1 - History (+ monsters)

The character is revealed by the works, not by occasional good deeds and occasional misdeeds, but by the tendency of the habitual words and acts. Signs of the Times, 1884.

We find the cumulative history of a person's true character in their past deeds. Not just the occasional good or bad deed, but in their habitual actions. This cumulative pattern is a persons history: it has been witnessed (and can be verified) by others. 

Like a work resume, history tells us what a person has done, and therefore, what they will most likely do. This is why narcissits (N's) revise and rewrite history at every opportunity. They have to rewrite history otherwise nobody would hire them...

Judging others has a bad rap at the moment. It is seen as...judgmental. I want you to rethink your right to judge, and what you base your judgment on. 

1. Fair judgement is only possible when you reference facts. 2. The most reliable reference is the record that you have witnessed first hand. 

Feel free to judge me right now. I judge myself constantly, so why not?

Have you seen me display casual cruelty? 
Do I put you down and diminish you? 
Have you left my company or home feeling 'less' than when you arrived? 
Have you seen me be rude, cold or just plain nasty?
Are your kids scared of me?
Have you ever been on the receiving end of a malicious lie I have told about you or someone else?
Have you seen first hand examples of my extreme avarice and jealousy?
Can you recall a time when you saw me being callous?
Can you find an example that proves I am deceitful?
Am I an unhelpful person?
Do I bitch about all and sundry and rarely have a nice word to say?

If you can point out examples of the above, I need to apologise.

Which leads me to murder. Most N's don't commit actual murder (maybe only because they don't believe they would get away with it). Instead, they commit virtual murder. Often.

I have been virtually murdered. My 'self' is in the process of being eliminated by lies and a malicious smear campaign that has gone on for decades.

Yes, decades. I know this for sure now, the length of the campaign. Why else would NM feel it necessary to call my (now deceased) mother in consistently for the past 20+ years to warn her that I was 'unstable'.

Which leads me to monsters. The only way to truly destroy the reputation of good person is to make them into some sort of monster. The easiest way to do this is to paint them the opposite of their virtues.

I invite you to judge me, freely. I think I will stand as a decent but fallible being. But please judge based on your own point of reference, not the second hand bullshit of a self serving narcissist with a very personal agenda to rewrite history.

Saturday, 31 May 2014

Domestic Theft and plain old THEFT

Great link here with a description better than I could write.

Them manipulating us out of upwards $160k (and an extra $10k a year in interest forever) is not actually domestic theft. It is just plain theft. But domestic theft is part of the pattern with Momster.

Nana makes me a dress as a five year old. I see the girl who lived across the road walking down the street in it. I ask Momster why, how? 
"You never wear it".

A friend of hers give her some stuff to give to me. As she shows me all the things I have been given, she takes what she wants and leaves me what she does not want. 
"They're too good for you".

Grand-dad (her father in law) moves house and she steals his family medals, my Nan's pearls, a lace dress that belonged to my Nan. All things that belonged to my Aunt and my Dad and Grand-dad.

I collected dolls as a kid and I kept them very well. When I left home they were stored in the garage. She gives them to my niece to play with when my niece was waaaay too young to take care of them. They are broken. Years later, they disappear when she moves house. Turns out she gave them to another niece without asking me.

She buys a holiday house and at her request, I lend her dozens of books so visitors would have reading material beyond the latest form guide ("I want these back Mum"). When she sells the house she tosses them out telling me 'they were boring anyway'. So much for award winning authors!

But most annoyingly, she gave away my time without my consent. DD will do that for you. DD will pick you up. DD will...

DD is doing no longer :)

Friday, 30 May 2014

The weekly reminder...

There is an interest bill on the money they stole off us: $200 a week. Compounded for life.

And every single week we are reminded of her evil when that money gets scooped off the top of my pay cheque.

You have taken away our ability to save for our retirement, to follow our dreams and desires, to have a holiday occasionally, to be secure knowing we can pay for medical care.

You are scum Momster. Pond scum.

Friday, 9 May 2014

Post 11: Undermining

A paragraph from my light bulb moment document and some examples from my life.

Paragraph - She undermines. 
Your accomplishments are acknowledged only to the extent that she can take credit for them. 
Any success or accomplishment for which she cannot take credit is ignored or diminished. 
Any time you are to be center stage and there is no opportunity for her to be the center of attention, she will try to prevent the occasion altogether, or she doesn't come, or she leaves early, or she acts like it's no big deal, or she steals the spotlight or she slips in little wounding comments about how much better someone else did or how what you did wasn't as much as you could have done or as you think it is. 
No matter what your success, she has to take you down a peg about it”.

I Write & Publish a Book
I write a book and send her a copy in the mail. No response. Next time I visit she hands me the copy, which she has gone through with a fine-toothed comb and some sticky-notes to mark up the typos, mistakes, incorrect grammar (according to her) and where there is room for improvement.

Me: What did you do that for?
Her: That’s why you sent it to me isn’t it? What did you expect?
Me: Ummm…congratulations?
Her: That goes without saying. Anyway, you can take the feedback or not, up to you.
Me: It’s been published, I can’t change anything.
Her: Well that’s unfortunate (cue to her walking away and me standing gobsmacked).

In My First Big Relationship I Get Hurt
Badly. Pulled apart, abused and left in a heap with more pain and grief than I know what to do with.
Her: I really thought you’d cope out there.
Me: Out where? What do you mean?
Her: I thought you’d cope out in the world. But you can’t (cue to her walking away and me standing desolate feeling like the abuse was my fault and I was a complete loser).

Getting My Period
Scene: the laundry room.
Her: I noticed blood on your pants. Did you get your period?
Me: Yes.
Her: Wash them in cold water immediately and change your tampon at least three times a day because from now on you will smell.

Getting My First A at College
Scene: the kitchen where she is sitting with a friend when I get home.
Me: Hey Mum I got my first A.
Her: Stop. Later okay.
Her: Don’t big note yourself in front of people. They are not interested.

Opening Night of My Coffee Shop Art Gallery
(Within very close proximity to me whilst screaming in a stage whisper)
Her to exhibiting artist’s mother: You must be so proud of your daughter, an exhibition is such an achievement.
Her to my business partner’s mother: You should be so proud of him, the design of the place is brilliant.
Her to me: You are so lucky you had (business partner) to help, he has done a brilliant job and you could not have done it without him.

To me privately: Nada.

On Getting My Degree
Her: You were the only one that did it out of the lot of you.
Me: I suppose so.
Her: Keep in mind it wasn’t a very academic course.

My Graduation Ceremony
She picks me up from my flat in King Street and drives me to the ceremony. Nobody else was invited. She watches ceremony, takes no photographs and we leave, whereby she drops me off on the side of the road near my flat, leaving me wondering what I did wrong. I wore a mortar board and a gown and I do not have a photo :(

My Fortieth Birthday
Scene: She cajoles and manipulates until I agree to change the party from our house to her house. A few days the party:
Me: What do you mean you aren’t coming?
Her: It’s a racing day, we’ll show up when we can.

My 21st Birthday Photo Album and Guest Book
Me: Can I have my 21st album please.
Her: No.
Me: Why, it’s mine?
Her: No it’s not, I threw the party.

Oh dear, that’s enough I think. My time is better spent rewiring the thought processes she instilled in me rather than rehashing them any further.

If you want to read the light bulb document go here