Dejibo,

You are in my prayers. Reading your post brought tears to my eyes. Not all family are relatives and know that not all relatives are family. You've done as much as you can and do not need to take such abuse and negativity. As long as you know you have extended the olive branch, you can sleep peacefully at night. Take care of yourself and know that you are only responsibe for your actions.

Dej - Hang in there!

Sorry Dej!
No matter how much they hurt you, you came to their rescue to many times!!
I know exactly how you feel. You will probably cry a lot of tears before you finally come to terms with this. I still do, and it's been almost a year and a half.
I pray you can stay strong for your sake, It is not your fault! My thoughts are with you!

I cried alot today as I packed up a box for my mom. I included a video of my fathers funeral. I stole his ashes and had him buried at sea with the navy after I found him being used as a door stopper. I took a badly damaged photo of him, and had it restored and sent it with him to the funeral. Why did I send my mom a copy of this? because it clearly shows the photo she claims I stole in 2009 sitting on the table beside my fathers ashes in 1996. The navy did a beautiful service and gave me a video of it. I have provided my mother with no less than 4 copies of it, and my sister keeps taking it. I included several framed photos that included one of my mother when she was 19. One of my grandmother on her honeymoon. (what a hottie!) several of my sister and my mom together, and the framed photo that my mother swears I stole from her. I also included trinkets she gave me over the years. Salvation army trinkets, but they were special to me.

I counted it up and thru the last 30 years I have given out more than $175,000 in money to bail out my sister, my mother and their antics. I have filled oil tanks only to see the stuff sold off by the gallon. Paid off pharmacy bills so the kids could have meds, only to find out my sister got cigarettes and cough syrup on the bill. Clothing for kids to find the neighbors bought them cheaply. Electric bills long past due and electric extension cords being sold to the neighbor to pay for their AC. Food from the local store only to find it was used to barter for cigarettes. I have paid for my moms meds only to find she was giving them to my sister to keep her from detoxing. I have bought home after home for my mother only to find she had to leave those homes when my sister would crash with strange men and my mom was afraid. Lets not even count the vacuums I have bought.

So, I ended it with an act of kindness. A box full of photos that were lovingly restored, and framed. A letter letting her know how deeply she wounded me, and that strangers think more highly of me than my own mother. That I shant be calling, writing or sending any more checks, or items. This is the last box, and I send it with love and well wishes. I pray she is treated more kindly in her life, than she treated me in mine. I sealed the box and tomorrow shall send it with the same loving wishes that she truly be well cared for. It just wont be by my hand.

I am tired of being beaten. I am tired of having venom sprayed in my eyes. I am tired of being handcuffed then yelled at for not sticking out my hand. so...God Bless my mother. she is gonna need it without me there to catch her, or wipe her tears when it falls apart at the hands of my drug addicted, bi polar sister, and her socially anxious, bi polar child. I fear it wont be long before my mother is in a nursing home, and my sis will pick the cheapest one. She will forget to visit, and wont bring treats when she does. My mother will simply slip off into the madness of her own imagination, and wont allow anyone to come near to comfort or be comforted. So....thats all I can do.

I am the child. not the parent. I am the wounded child who took up the responsibilties of the adult and lost my childhood for it. I think I have given from a dry cup long enough.

Thank you for all of the love and support both public and private, this truly is a wonderful group, and its my mother who shall miss out on a wonderful woman who really loved her.

I posted to you on the Insights thread, but wanted to send my hugs here, too. One of my dear friends who had a similar childhood to mine (and yours) said to me "who fixes us broken girls?" and I wish I knew the answer. I could have written many parts of your posts.

I chased love until my mother died. Now I still don't understand how my manipulative, abusive step-father deserved her love and protection more than her own children. I was blessed to have grandparents who loved me and I grew up OK because of them and in spite of my home life.

I do know that those wounds don't heal that easily. It has taken me years to realize that I did try hard enough and it wasn't my failure to own. I hope you find great peace because I know you need it and you deserve it.

It's OK to be broken sometimes - we've all been broken, but not broken all the time. Some people are a terrible broken and are toxic to us. We can't fix them.

how do you explain to others what it was like to have a momma who


didnt teach you how to cook, but demanded that you put a meal on the table...at 9! and it better be good.


didnt teach you how to wash your hair, face, manicures or brush your teeth, but expected that somehow it would and should be done. "look at those nails! cut them!" sheesh...HOW?! "look at the ratty hair, cant you do something with it?" or wanted you to wear make up to cover the pimples instead of teaching you how to properly clean your face. I had my hair cut off at 16 because I simply couldnt get her off my back about it. I cut it myself because there was no money for a hair cut.


Didnt teach you how to clean, but expected the place to be spotless. There was heckpie to be paid if she came back off a date and found the place a mess. She didnt want to invited her "gentlemen caller" into a nasty place.


Didnt teach me that men could be wonderful and charming and generous, and protective. I grew up knowing that men were abusive, rude, wanted one thing, and normally got it, and you my dear should hold it for randsome. If you want something, let a man get it for you, after all, you have power between your legs.


didnt teach or encourage support of each other. We constantly heard what someone else had said about us, or had done behind our backs. I truly feel it made her happy to see us bicker, argue and fight. I was not taught how to make peace. how to forgive or how to resolve a conflict should it occur.


Didnt teach comfort, or help me when I told her about a relative climbing on me at night. She had her own problems. I was to "figure it out, sometimes you just have to put up with stuff"


didnt teach me how to use, take care of, or handle money or a budget, and yet the bills better be paid. I would be given a lot less money to pay the bills than what was owed, and I was supposed to go beg, borrow, steal or tell sad stories to the clerk to get her to forgive the rest of it. We tied the bad dog to the gas meter so they wouldnt shut off the gas.


Stopped touching me the minute I turned 5. I remember crying myself to sleep at night with a horrible toothache at 5, and was miserable in a motel because we were once again traveling with dad, and it hurt so bad. I was told to "suck it up. big girls dont cry, and big girls dont need their mommy to hold them when things go wrong. I had better figure out a way to get to sleep or a whoppin was soon headed my way." I was taught that if I was sick, she was not the person to head towards.


She did teach me how to shoplift, switch price tags from the small item, and put it on the big bottle so we got the smaller price for the bigger item. Taught me how to distract a store clerk while she stuff things in her bag. Taught me how to shove things in my pocket and lie straight faced to the clerk who just saw me do it. taught me how to tell the pharmacist that I am short on pills because I just counted them in front of him, and I swiped 10 into my pocket. Accuse others before they can accuse me. be nice to the rich girls so she could get in good with their daddy's when the divorce came, she would know which one was newly on the market.


When I look back at the family I came from I myself am amazed that I grew up with any ability to make sense out of the world. I was taught that ALL people will rook you, so you better rook them first. You better get in the first punch.


Yet somehow I grew up with morals, ethics, integrity, honor, and decency. I grew up to be a good parent to my own kids, and even took in others who were not so wanted. My mother never, not once asked for a photo of my kids. Sent not one Christmas or birthday gift. She played the game of "I sent it to his father." and told his father. "i sent it to his mother." for years my children thought Granny sent presents because I put her name on the gifts under the tree. Thank God they didnt check post marks on the mail or they would have seen it came from this town, not Grandmas town. She didnt want to hear when my son was ill and needed surgery. She was horrified that I took that little rat muffin off the street and took her as our own. she was sick and should be someone elses trouble.


I spent my entire adulthood chasing her affection, love, attention, and guidance, and it would never come. She was always busy, angry, tired, or didnt understand what it was I was going on about. so...I learned to quietly sit with her, and not ask for anything from her. My sister is just like her, so I think she understands and supports her more, because my sister makes senese and I dont.


I grew up without love, support, or guidance, but I guess when you are planted in manure you have good fertilizer, no?


I am so jealous when I hear of each of you that have that special bond with your mommies. When you are hearing words of love, affection, and grace from your parents. I dont know what that feels like. its a goal I chased my entire life and have come to realize that some of us are not going to have that goal met. it just is what it is, and I need to understand that I didnt get one of those moms. I got the broken one, and that caused me to grow up broken. With the love, support and kindness of many other peoples moms I learned. I grew, I was inspired to do better, and strive higher. So, thanks girls for letting me borrow from your moms.


Thanks for letting me take up your time, and your space with my drama. I hate drama, and yet to be from my family you MUST get used to drama or drown. I dont want any more drama. I just want peace in my life, and peace in the lives of my children.


By the way, my DH took the box to the post office for me, and is paying the postage to have my mom get her final box. He was so patient to listen to me read the letter over and over and rework it over and over. Yes, I know that my mom will either not read, or not understand what I said in the letter. it was just for me. I said what I needed, and wanted to say, and off it went.

I am so sorry Dej! Our lives are so similar, I can't believe it. I feel for you more than you know. Know we are all here for you and support you.

(((((DebW)))))

Dej, we have spoken many times over the years about your mother's mental, emotional, spiritual bankruptcy and you know I have grieved with you for the loss of your childhood.

It has been said that our problem is not that as children our needs were unmet, but as adults the loss of these needs is still unmourned. All that grew up with a barren past, devoid of the basic needs of all children: the needs for love, safety, acceptance, freedom, attention, validation of our feelings, being physically held... all that missed these things need to grieve the irrevocably barren past and evoke their own inner sources of nurturance.

I believe you have been in the process of mourning since before we first met and it has been so hard to mourn because with your mother still alive... there was that smallest of chances that she might "wake up". This has not happened and it appears you are finally ready to let go and let God, truly grieve your loss, forgive her, and take that cup of sorrow from which you have drank deeply, and transform it to an immortal wine that can bring you the peace, forgiveness, and acceptance you desire.

I love you my friend, my sister, and all of you that feel or felt the pain of a barren and lost childhood~ May God's angels find their way into your heart to comfort you and show you truly it was not your fault.

Vikki