There was a ‘last straw’ incident with my NMom back on her birthday, in September. Here is the email I wrote to my MIL about it:
‘Yes Saturday night/Sunday morning was not a great time. I keep kicking myself for not leaving sooner than I did–we all drank a lot, and after dinner at the restaurant, we sat on mom’s patio and drank more. I kept my head, so I recall a lot of what was said…it’s possible that my sister does not (she has never been able to hold liquor well). I should have had an exit plan going in, to skip the patio drinks, or to leave after an hour–there were multiple times I could have left, but I didn’t.
We had fun for a couple hours, listening to music and talking, but then they started asking questions, challenging me again about moving back to NY. It was like a continuation of the previous weekend’s “discussion.” I finally mentioned something about wanting to move to a state that protect’s women’s rights, and so then we got onto abortion, and I think my mom said something like, ‘well I didn’t have an abortion’ like she deserves some kind of award for having me, and then it escalated from there. I said something about most abortions being done to save the life of the mother, or when the baby dies in utero, and that politicians are not doctors and have no business inserting themselves into that decision, blah blah blah, and then it ended with my mom looking me DEAD in the eyes, with the most vile look of hatred, “No one cares what you think.” No effort to understand or even hear my point of view, period, discussion over.
I never get really, out of control mad, but the few times I have, it is always at my mother–and this was one of those times, I think it’s been 4 times total since moving back here. I told her she was in a cult, and in my haste to get out of there, the wineglass fell and broke on the iron table, I threw it away, got my stuff, wished her a ‘happy fucking birthday’ and walked out.
That’s it. I’m not proud of it, but there it is. I got home and started sobbing uncontrollably. As I said we’ve had other fights in the last 6 years, but this time was different. It reminded me way too much of fights we’d had when I was a teenager still living at home. There has been no progression, we basically have the same relationship we did when I was 17/18 years old. It confirmed to me that there is no hope, I was/am better off AWAY from her, away from her nasty comments and judgments about me and my life choices, her cruel lack of empathy, her complete disinterest in understanding me at all.‘
That incident was two months ago now, and since that time, I have seen my mother twice, once on Halloween, and most recently on Thanksgiving day. She does not call me, I do not call her, I am cordial to her at these social events, but there is zero relationship between us now. My husband has flat-out stopped greeting her, he cannot stand the sight of her at this point. He knows better than anyone the emotional mindgames that woman has put me through over the years, and he’s had enough.
Something inside me died that day, and I cannot go back to pretending it didn’t happen. The day after the incident I texted my sister that I would not be going to mom’s again for a long time. She has a habit of dropping in to visit my mom with her two kids and staying the weekend, and texts me to come down and visit, so I wanted to be clear that I would not be doing that any longer. So then my mom texted me ‘what did I do? I don’t remember, I’d like to know what I did’ all innocent like. I replied that we would have to talk about it sometime, that I wasn’t going to text about it. Then later, since my sister didn’t recall any of it, my mom joined in, saying she also ‘didn’t remember what happened,’ to which I replied, ‘that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.’ She has always tried to gaslight my injured feelings, saying I’m too sensitive, or that I remember things that didn’t happen, so I felt like she was doing it again BECAUSE SHE FUCKING REMEMBERS WHAT SHE SAID. When I left in a rage that night, I heard her shouting on the patio, ‘Are we just going to let your sister leave like that??’ all frantic; she remembers. And she has not once reached out to discuss it with me, so here we are.
Living with the choice to go low-contact is hard, but it does get easier over time. Moving out of state again will definitely help the situation for me. Living six doors down from her was certainly a mistake; perhaps things would not have gotten so dire so quickly if we’d lived further out. But the fact remains that the woman is a large child, and has never treated me well, has always resented me, has never been a mother to me, will never be the type of mother I wish I’d had all these years. It’s time for me to give up on her and live my life surrounded by people who love me and don’t treat me like garbage. I’m too old for this crap, and I have my own daughter to focus on.
Inevitably I’m the scapegoat for it all, I’m sure now she has compartmentalized her lack of relationship with me as my fault, because I’m choosing to be stubborn, besides she doesn’t even remember what she said, so I’m just too sensitive, blah blah blah. She has to come out the winner in every circumstance. That’s fine, she can spin whatever lies she needs to, but ultimately I will win when I leave this god-awful state in 6 months, never to return.
Chicken Stew 