Goodbye Mother

Conversation History

April __, 2015

Stephanie: Happy Birthday
Mother: Who is this?

You vanished from the state. I didn’t know where you were.
But I never thought you’d delete me.

S: I thought this was Jane Doe’s number. I apologize.
M: It is but i dont recognize your number!

You fucking deleted me.

July __, 2015

M: Happy birthday
S: Thanks.

I wonder who identified my number for you.
It only took you two months to figure it out.

August 31, 2015

M: Would loue to see you sometime and hopefully restore our relationship i loue and miss you very much
S: We can get together sometime if you want. I don’t know where you are these days, so just let me know when you’re around. Maybe we can do lunch.

September 2, 1015

M: I Am free wed ? thur next week the 9th ? 10th pick where to meet ? time
S: How about Wednesday?
M: Wednesday is fine how about ____ right by me so i dont have to drive far
S: I’ll meet you there at 11:30.

September 9, 2015

M: R we still on for 11:30 tomorrow?
S: Yes. Still want to go to ___?
M: Unless u want to somewhere else doesnt matter
S: No, that sounds good to me.

I knew you had a motive. I knew it in my gut.
Sweet lady at work convinced me to do this lunch with you. You didn’t know that did you?
I didn’t want to come. I knew it was too good to be true.
I was right.
You thought I could get you a fucking job.
You wanted a favor. That’s why you reappeared.
I told you we were under a hiring freeze.

You cried crocodile tears, and spoke of a desire to reconnect.
I remained stoic, because I didn’t believe anything you were saying.
You said you wanted to renew our relationship.
I said I’d like that. I stuck my neck out and said I need you to call me.
You said you’d call me every week.

I wonder how long it will be this time, before I hear from you again.

October __, 2015

M: FWD: (baby picture) ____ (your brother’s) baby girl!
I never knew they were expecting.
S: Thank you.

June 15, 2016

M: I loue and miss you so very much please call me sometime

I can’t fucking do this again.

June 16, 2016

M: Did something change since we met for lunch a while back?
S: No, that was nearly a year ago. I’ve come to terms with the way things are.
M: What’s that supposed to mean? I have tried everything i can possibly think of to restore a relationship with you not laying blame at all just doesnt seem u are interested i truly dont have a clue what i have said or done that you cant or wont forgive me for
S: I’m not sure why you brought blame into it, when I responded in a calm and non-accusatory manner. That’s interesting. What I meant was that you said you were going to start calling me once a week, because you said you wanted a relationship with me. That was almost a year ago now.

M: The last time i texted u about going to see (your brother’s) baby n i never got a reply back i just dont understand is all
S: I don’t see any texts like that in our entire conversation history.
M: Well i sent one after she was born about her baby shower
S: Okay.

M: I wanted a relationship with you for a long time and i have tried repeatedly to make the effort but i cant do it alone
S: You never sent the texts you’re saying you did. I have the entire conversation history. You said you would stay in touch with me regularly, after I hadn’t even known what state you were living in for a very long time. But then I didn’t hear from you again until last October when you sent me a picture of a baby I knew nothing about. There was no invitation, and there has been zero communication after that. I don’t understand where this is coming from.
S: Why did you ignore me in the grocery store?

Fuck it. Let’s see you lie about this one.

M: Wow ok well i did send you the texts dont know why u didnt get them and i tried calling u all the time but u want to lie about it sorry i bothered you i give up goodbye
S: Okay.

Ah, complete evasion, I see.
I’m glad you couldn’t see me.
I’m glad you couldn’t see me sobbing during this entire exchange.
I’m glad you didn’t see the ass-kissing texts I originally wrote and then deleted before sending.
I spent most of my life letting you guilt me and make shit up and put it all on me.
I always let you do it.

Now I see why.

I stood up for myself this time. I asked you to answer for some things you’ve done.
And now you’ve told me you’re giving up.
Every fucking time I try to heal, you do this.
Every fucking time. Just when I think I can move on without crying about you anymore…
You show back up and guilt me.
But this time I didn’t let you.
I won’t let you do this to me anymore.
I may not have had the nerve to type it out in text.
But I’ll say it here.

Goodbye, Mother.

Accountability

I never held you accountable for anything. The closest I could ever come to addressing these things with you was to cry and beg or else just harden myself a bit more, distance myself a bit more.

Would you like to know what I’d hold you accountable for, if I thought I could have a conversation with you – without it turning into evasion, denial and volleying blame back and forth?

No. Your answer is no. So I’ll tell you here.

Do you remember when I told you my marriage was ending? It took me months to tell you. Do you remember what you said? “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me and your mamaw.” Thanks for the support, mom.

Do you remember when I asked for your help? I hate asking for help. I never ask for help. I’m starting to realize why I became that way. I was having surgery. I stuck my neck out, asked for your help. Could you please take me in for surgery? Could you please help me get home after? Would you stay? Do you remember your response? “I can’t afford the gas.” I cried. I didn’t let you hear it in my voice, but I cried. I told you I’d pay for your gas, even though I was out of work at the time. You said, “Why don’t you drive over here after your anesthesia wears off, and I’ll make a pallet for you on the floor.” You lived three hours away at the time. You got offended when I turned the most generous offer down.

Do you remember telling me that I need to get over being molested by my father and his friends? I needed to get over what happened with my brother? He was a kid, too. I know damn well where he learned that from. Do you remember telling me, as I cried and shook, that I was too old to let “something like that keep you from a relationship with your father”? The same man who beat the shit out of you, burst your eardrum and brazenly bragged about his many conquests? The same man who had stood trial for attempted murder when he raped and beat the shit out of his “girlfriend”? The same man who was with his best friend the night his best friend murdered his parents and his little boy? I know they were together, because I was there. They got wasted together before disappearing. The next day, there was a manhunt for the best friend.

Do you remember?

I do. I remember that and a lot more.

For many years, I longed to have the kind of mother I thought I had in childhood. I longed for her to come back. I realize now I will never have her, if I ever did.

I’m sorry I can’t grovel and take the blame and subject myself to your untreated issues anymore. I’m sorry I can’t shoulder responsibility for everything you want me to. I’m sorry I can’t hang with your rollercoaster mood swings anymore.

I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you to stick around.

I’m sorry I was worthy of your goodbye.

So it’s my turn now. It’s my turn to say,
Sorry I bothered you.
I give up.
Goodbye.

 

72 thoughts on “Goodbye Mother

  1. Ugh. Goodbye indeed. And good riddance to bad rubbish.

    I’ll not irritate you with platitudes, Steph. But I’d really like to smack your mommy dearest into next week.

    This is… Visceral.

    Hugs, you. ❤

    (Or air hugs or a nod or a fist bump, if you're not into the whole huggy touchy thing.) (I'm not either, really.) (That whole scene in Dirty Dancing where Patrick Swayze was all, "THAT is your dance space; THIS is mine" pretty much fits. Except I'd be all up in his dance space if I was Baby, baby. Hubba. I mean, back then. I wouldn't want to be in his dance space now. Because, y'know, death. SO not sexy.)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A heartbreaking read! So very sorry for your sake, for all of this that you didn’t deserve to have to go through. I am at a loss for words…
    I can understand why you named this goodbye mother..
    💜

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This is so sad. I am absolutely devastated for you. I think you’re making the right decision – your mother isn’t worthy of your love or attention at all. I cannot believe the things she’s said and done. You deserve so much better, and I’m glad you realise that. Over the net hugs 🙂 x

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hugs. Thank you, Carla. It’s a difficult decision. I replied with a vague hope that she would be willing to speak honestly about the way things are. And I had a willingness to at least try to do lunch again or something. See how things go. But she wasn’t having it. I know she wanted me to beg her, but I can’t do it anymore.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I understand completely. I mean, I don’t, because I’ve never been through it, but I’m watching my friend go through something incredibly similar right now, and she’s decided she can’t do it anymore, either. I think you’re making the right decision. I’m just so sorry that the person who’s meant to love you the most has done this to you.

        Liked by 2 people

  4. Keep grieving, Steph. She may not deserve your tears, but you have so much loss to grieve about and you deserve your tears. Your childhood deserves tears. Healing will happen, hon. You’re an amazing person in spite of all this. I’m just sorry you had to figure out how to be amazing on your own instead of from a parental role model. Hugs and hearts and lots of love. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh my… I knew you had problems from your childhood / family due to other posts but reading that just made it all seem so bloody awful. Some people do not deserve to have kids but then we wouldn’t have you – the world would be a much sadder place without the random vocabulary, cursing explosions and quizzical sketches of Stephellaneous! 😉 Hope you get some closure after this lovely. Blood might be thicker than water but nobody tells you to drink 8 glasses a day of the stuff for a healthy life! X

    Liked by 4 people

    1. HAHAHA! Ewwwww I can’t imagine drinking blood. At least not that much. 😉

      And I like that reference. I choose to drink water, because it’s good for me. And you are good for me. This space and this community is good for me.

      And I’m grateful for you.

      Liked by 2 people

  6. Brave, brave darling Steph that goodbye was the loudest fucking HELLO to life I’ve ever heard. I’m old enough to be your ma and I’m a fairly damned good one. So, when you need one – reach out. I gotta a lifetime of momma bear hugs to give away.

    Liked by 4 people

  7. You’re very brave, Steph. You matter to you, and that’s inspiring. The entire post is, actually. I agree with Rita, it’s a loud HELLO to life. I’ve got plenty of hugs as well.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Wow Stephanie! I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing your story and know that it is helping someone. Sometimes you have to walk away for your own sanity and I applaud the strength you have to do so. Hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Tikeetha. And I want to say something important to you now:

      I love your blog, but I don’t read it as often as I’d like to. I apologize for that, but let me explain. You’re such a loving and wonderful mother to your son, and it moves me to tears Every Single Time. Sometimes it’s too hard for me to bear, because you’re one of those mothers that…makes it so beautiful and loving and honest. I envy that, but I’m also so happy for you and your son and the beautiful relationship you have.

      I admire you and wish you such peace and perseverance. And on my stronger days, I read along and laugh and smile. Sometimes you’re such a good mother it hurts. You know?

      All of that to say that I’m grateful to “know” you, and I admire you a great deal. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. If that’s the case, it should serve as validation for what you posted today. (Not that you need validation, obvs. But sometimes giving yourself permission to swim upstream is the hardest part about leaping the falls. Once you know you CAN, you DO. and you’re free.)

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Good point, Katie. 🙂

        And yeah, her timing couldn’t have been worse. It was as though she somehow found out what I was going through (which is impossible) and planned it that way. Texting that BS on the same day as the crapty doctor visit. Hmph.

        Liked by 1 person

  9. Ah shit, Stephanie. It sounds like your mom is really toxic. Especially with the abuse you endured that she inadvertently and advertently (is this a word?) blamed you for. I’m glad you are saying goodbye.

    This part struck me the most:
    “Every fucking time I try to heal, you do this.
    Every fucking time. Just when I think I can move on without crying about you anymore…
    You show back up and guilt me.
    But this time I didn’t let you.
    I won’t let you do this to me anymore.
    I may not have had the never to type it out in text.
    But I’ll say it here.
    Goodbye, Mother.”

    I haven’t spoken to my dad in nearly a year and I haven’t explained to him why I’ve gone No Contact (he lives 3,000 miles away so unfortunately the chance of running into him is 0%). My dad had sent me an email asking me why I wasn’t speaking to him and I never answered him so he sicked my step-mom (who I have zero relationship with) on me to try to get a response out of me. I ignored her too.

    The thing was that, like you, I was at my very end with him. He was posting negative things about me publicly on FB, about how his kids aren’t there for him (playing the victim card), he told me his Lord and Savior Jesus is telling him he did nothing wrong and so he’s not taking any responsibilies for any of his actions, and he guilt tripped me every time I talked to him to the point of where 2 days after I’d speak to him I’d feel completely insane to the point of almost being suicidal.

    Sometimes people just don’t change. They just hurt us and we have to say goodbye. It just fucking sucks when it’s people in your family who are supposed to love you. ((HUG))

    Liked by 1 person

    1. ((HUG)) Damn, I cannot believe how similar your situation sounds to mine. The whole, my “Lord and Savior Jesus is telling me [I] did nothing wrong.” Fuckin’ hell, I can’t count how many times she’s prayed until she received the answer that she’s a good mother, and I’m a bad daughter. It always has to be us, doesn’t it? Making first contact, making sure the tenuous thread between us doesn’t get severed or patching it when it does. And yeah…yesterday, after that whole exchange, I immediately thought about suicide again. It hit me with force and severity. Thank fuck I realized what was happening. Even today, I started my morning listening to extremely angry music. I caught myself and forced some upbeat music. It’s helping me push it back again. Bleh.

      Thank you…thank you so much for sharing and supporting.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Being broken from the neck up does nothing to stifle your ability to reproduce. Parents are just people who made a baby, and not everyone who has a baby can be a parent. (And then on the flip are so many who would ROCK the mom role and just can’t. unfairness.)

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Ohhhhhh that reminds me of ranty angry stuff I was gonna say….about how it’s not fair that I’m supposed to worship the ground she walks on because she met a man in a bar, had a one-night-stand and ended up knocked up with me. It’s the only reason he married her. He told me that, point blank. Yay. We need a license to operate a motor vehicle, but raising a human being? Pfft. Pop ’em out and toss ’em aside!

        Jaded much? Me? Nah…. 😉

        Liked by 1 person

      3. But, see, HOW you got here isn’t relevant. It’s what you do once you’re here that is. Don’t let that define you. If he’s a useless sack, perhaps his winning contribution and reason he got to walk the planet was to make the fabulous being that ended up being YOU.

        Yeah, barf, but there ya go.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Heh. It may be barf, but it has me smiling. You rock. Thank you!

        He’s even less than a useless sack. But I suppose I can be thankful that his sack got me here. Ew. Sometimes I really hate my brain. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Ah Stephanie. It’s horrible having to be the grownup in relationship with your parent. It’s been a couple days since you wrote this…how are you doing today? I know it takes me a while to recover from not only conversations with my dad but also even just *thoughts* of him as well.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Thank you….yeah it’s horrible. I’m starting to dwell less. But tomorrow being father’s day isn’t helping. He’s actually the far worse human being, but somehow she’s the one who makes me feel let down. Probably because I actually expected things from her, if that makes sense.

        Liked by 1 person

  10. Very very sad , and I am sorry that even after all these years and what you’ve gone through , you still cannot count with your mother to act like one . But I am (can’t say happy here) hopeful that by finally saying goodbye you will be able to get on with your life . You deserve to be happy , and not weighted down by such heavy baggage and other’s mistakes .
    Some people really should never ever have kids . And yet some of these kids do manage to grow into these amazeballs Stephs 🙂
    Turtle Hugs ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Hi Steph! I am not sorry but happy for you. This person is probably going to make you cry more and feel like shit. Good riddance! You are strong and brave! Hope you feel better and that noone else makes you feel that way anytime in your life. Hugs!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you!! I’m trying to talk myself into blocking her number, because I figure a year or so from now. Or even five years from now, she’ll do this again. And claim she’s been calling and texting, and I’ve been ignoring her. Heh. Maybe I’ll get up the nerve to do it!

      Liked by 2 people

  12. Wow! You are a brave brave soul for writing this, Steph! Thank you for sharing it here. I’m late to the party as usual, please forgive me. I’m sure you’ll be alright, even if the scars are always there. I’m sorry your past was so dark. I hope your present and future gets better. You deserve peace and happiness. Lots of hugs and love.

    Liked by 1 person

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