The day I made my mother cry

Bonding has completely backfired.

Not sure how soon I’ll venture out again to try and connect with a person.

My mom and I had been drifting lately and we both finally acknowledged this. Decided that we would take a trip to the local IKEA together. Technically I needed the space of her van anyhow, to fit a desk I wanted to purchase. I merely drive a sedan.

We are reconnecting well. Chatting about life (both of ours) and possible job opportunities (for me).

She tells me about her recent Reiki+ treatment from a family friend. I call it “Reiki plus” because our friend Margaret does a mix of what is needed for trusted patients. For example, with me she tends towards some cranial sacral and light massage work for my migraines/muscle pain in addition to classic Reiki work. She is licensed for all of the techniques she uses and would never do anything a patient disliked. Plus, she’s an old family friend.

Mom says it went well, but Margaret couldn’t help her much with the spiritual side of things. My mom thinks she’s going deaf to her spirit guides. Margaret has helped her in the past. I’m at a loss at what to say.
Though I have my own version of “guides/spirits” that I do sometimes seek out, mostly I shut them out because it’s hard to open myself to them without cocking-up my DID structure and causing spiraling/time loss and such. It’s hard to explain.

But this isn’t where I completely screw up.

It’s later, when I offer to play a song for my mom that has lately helped me stop from completely giving myself over to dark thoughts and suicidal thoughts.

It’s called “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten

I plug the aux cord in and hit play…

As the last notes drift away, I realize I’ve been a bit zoned out and glance over at my mom.

She’s crying.

I blink and frantically try to remember the last couple minutes. Did I do something wrong? Then I think about the song. Maybe it’s just because it’s emotional.

“I’m sorry. It’s an emotional song I guess.” I offer lamely.

“No. It’s just…” She pauses, trying to compose herself. Even though it’s my father who doesn’t allow crying at all; with my mom and her side of the family, it’s still not truly a comfortable act to show other people. “It’s just…I don’t have any fight left.” Another sobs escapes. “And I don’t know how to get away. I don’t want to be where I am right now. This is a nice song, but I don’t have fight left.”

I’m quiet.

I want to say magical words to comfort her. My own mother.

But I am my father’s daughter and someone crying and exposing their deep feelings makes me starkly uncomfortable. My mind feels crackly- like an old candy wrapper.

“I don’t really have fight left either. The song just lets me pretend.” I confess. Mom glances at me. “I think if I play it enough then all the stagnant things in my life making my whole self dark and blue and depressed will break lose. So far though…it’s just a song.”

Mom starts tearing up again. I watch dispassionately.

And distantly I wonder if I’m the semi-sociopath my father is.

I do feel bad for making her cry, I do.

But my vision feels like a tunnel and my mouth a cave and I can’t climb over the rockslide blocking the entrance.

I add this day to the box of reasons why I shouldn’t be a daughter at all.

10 thoughts on “The day I made my mother cry

  1. manyofus1980

    Hugs. Your not a sociopath. Your just human. Sometimes its hard to sit with others when they’re in pain or emotional. I find that hard too. I hope your ok and feeling somewhat better after writing. XX

    Reply
  2. kat

    nonsense, you are a fine daughter. all you did was in reality actually connect with her about her real, true feelings. because you were sharing your real true feelings. just because the place you connected to each other is a scary and thing, the fear of not being able to push on further, does not mean it was bad to connect.

    for sure you can both gently revisit it, connect more, share things with each other that are helpful, distracting, or give you hope, fight. you can share as women who both feel used up and as mother and daughter. this is a place to start.

    Reply
    1. Pen Post author

      Yeah. That might be good. I dunno. This experience makes me less inclined to connect, but that seems a bit like my system’s knee-jerk reaction. We don’t handle intimacy well- even from family. Normally things are kept pretty surface-level with all my family.

      Reply
  3. Willow

    I can’t do emotional with the family but I can with friends so maybe its the family with the cave mouth, not you. I hope you recognise who I am x

    Reply
    1. Pen Post author

      Of course I recognize who you are ❤

      Yeah, family has always been like, 90% surface-level interaction (with the exception of when I was placed in a psych ward for a couple weeks and things had to be "explained" a bit- but then quickly dismissed). There are definitely friends I feel more comfortable with. Still not cry-level comfortable, but at least I don't feel like a sociopath around them.

      Thank you for your words xoxo

      Reply
  4. Grainne

    You know how much trouble I have connecting with people…I understand this post, I think, so well. I care about you….all of you, no matter what happens. Just wanted to make sure you knew that. xo

    Reply
    1. Pen Post author

      We are such brain-twins. I adore you so much, you know? ❤ ❤

      It means so much every time you're able to empathize with my brain. Seriously. I hate that we don't live closer.

      Reply
    1. Pen Post author

      Thank you. I hope she does know that. I would never want to hurt her at all, certainly not on purpose. I didn’t know she was struggling. She and I both do that whole “ostrich-burying head in sand” thing well.

      *hugs*

      Reply

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