Sheesh. Being blocked after you pulled yourself together was brutal. But you knew that.
When you come from an abusive family, the best thing one can do is to cut them off. That is terrifying and difficult, but better that living in that filth.
Yes I knew that deep down, but was still in denial and minimizing, to my own detriment, because it always impacts your self-esteem. At some level you always believe you deserve the abuse. But that is what we do. We minimize until we are mentally and psychologically strong enough to take in the full extent of the sickness and its implications.
Thank you for carrying on with this subject. Of course I signed up for topics having to do with Iceland. I find I enjoy hearing how you got through your toxic relationship with your mother more than learning tidbits about a language I will never speak in spite of my heritage. I am so awfully weary of the attitude that mothers are the epitome of everything that is wonderful. If that's true for anyone I'm glad but there are those of us for whom that only makes it harder to deal with what we got in the game of maternal roulette. I look forward to the next episode in your story.
How you survived, and then thrived, is amazing. Your mother's antics have me shaking my head and thinking of a German saying that translates to "Lord, send brains from heaven". And she's not even my mother. I will share your newsletter with a women's group who I am bringing to Iceland next summer (if all works out).
Thank you Elinor. With respect, though, I think this has nothing to do with brains. My mother was an intelligent woman. She also had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which means that, among other things, she was incapable of empathy. That is something this incident (and many others) illustrates so well.
Your story is very interesting; enjoyable to read! Thank you for posting.
Sheesh. Being blocked after you pulled yourself together was brutal. But you knew that.
When you come from an abusive family, the best thing one can do is to cut them off. That is terrifying and difficult, but better that living in that filth.
Yes I knew that deep down, but was still in denial and minimizing, to my own detriment, because it always impacts your self-esteem. At some level you always believe you deserve the abuse. But that is what we do. We minimize until we are mentally and psychologically strong enough to take in the full extent of the sickness and its implications.
Absolutely. I still feel I deserve abuse sometimes. The denial is a survival skill that saves us, then dumps us in the sewer.
Thank you for carrying on with this subject. Of course I signed up for topics having to do with Iceland. I find I enjoy hearing how you got through your toxic relationship with your mother more than learning tidbits about a language I will never speak in spite of my heritage. I am so awfully weary of the attitude that mothers are the epitome of everything that is wonderful. If that's true for anyone I'm glad but there are those of us for whom that only makes it harder to deal with what we got in the game of maternal roulette. I look forward to the next episode in your story.
How you survived, and then thrived, is amazing. Your mother's antics have me shaking my head and thinking of a German saying that translates to "Lord, send brains from heaven". And she's not even my mother. I will share your newsletter with a women's group who I am bringing to Iceland next summer (if all works out).
Thank you Elinor. With respect, though, I think this has nothing to do with brains. My mother was an intelligent woman. She also had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which means that, among other things, she was incapable of empathy. That is something this incident (and many others) illustrates so well.