Dear Anita,

My grandma is here from India, because my sister is born.  I am 6 and a half years old.  My grandma one night sees my dad get really mad at me, he is so mad, I don’t remember why.  But his eyes are really big and he looks like a scary monster.  She says don’t be mad at this small child.  She looks upset and scared, and she is trying to protect me.

I go to my room, and my grandma comes in and she looks really sad.  She says to me, don’t be bad okay.  Because then your dad will get angry.  So try to be good..

Dear Anita,

I arose in the middle of the night today – thirsty and full of thoughts. I decided to come here and jot some of them down. Since we have been doing hard work – my thoughts are not a frenzy but pensive, from the exercise perhaps.

You wrote above:

“…having an alleged crying, loud baby on top of her tragedy of being married to a medical doctor who does not help her clean the house and take care of her alleged difficult child”

I read this again and thought wow. Her medical doctor husband who doesn’t help her clean the house. Sounds so foolish and absurd! Yet here I am having believed that my whole life. In the sense that this monologue was reality. It was never questioned – the mother voice was never questioned was it.

Why is this important? It’s not because I want to run back and say you were wrong! Or say to my father it’s okay you didn’t do the housework! No. It is important because this small example – or a large one in fact is an indication of how many lies I was fed. The word alleged is correct. And she painted me as a difficult child. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I wasn’t. But nonetheless I was a child. I see children now. All the time. Some unruly some well behaved. Some with great parents some with not. Some of it is personality some of it is parenting.

Anyway I read this about my father and think – what a mess. My mother had resentment for my father. He used to hit her when they first moved to the US. Prior to my birth and perhaps while I was a young child – I have perhaps vague personal memories of this from stories, but know it is real. It is very real.

Now I don’t believe anyone should be abused. And I do know that sometimes the abused becomes the abuser. I spent a lot of time in my life – especially adolescent life believing that since my mother was treated poorly – by her own siblings and my father, she became enraged and “retaliated” and became the angry spiteful person she is.

I now know it is not a linear development as such. I know most importantly that the root of how and why she is who she is – is simply no longer important.

If the child of an alcoholic grows up to be an abusive alcoholic father – he is still to be held accountable. That’s it.

My mom spent her whole life trying to get empathy for the abuse she suffered. Every one of her actions became okay and validated because of it.

She had an affair, psychological or who knows, with a landscaper while I was in medical school. My father was aware of it and in a nutshell – it was “okay” since he was never a good husband to her and never gave her the love she ever needed

in a way this made sense, abused wife, never given appropriate love from her husband – looks elsewhere. She used to say “it is my right”. Sure – it is every humans right to find love, or not to be faulted if such happens.

The thing is though, she wasn’t capable of this. She is not a functional human being. Of course this affair or whatever you want to call it was short lived , and she fell into a tragic depression. It was up to us (my father and I mostly) to help her out of it. I’ll never forget the day they called me after my first year medical school exam. I recall walking to my white car, and it being hot. It was my father and mother on the phone – and they were heading to meet the “man” N. Pretty much they were heading to have an intervention with this man and tell him to no longer contact my mother as it was harming her too much. She couldn’t take the emotional ups and downs. So here they are calling their “levelheaded eldest” for advice – “we are heading there what should we say?”

Oh so Tragic tragic. Woman is abused and can not be loved appropriately by her husband. Woman also unable to find love elsewhere.

Perhaps woman is unlovable.

Now – let’s jump to this woman being a mother! 2 kids.

I am seeing this from afar from the view of a television show. In fact one we are watching about a classically dysfunctional family. The focus of the show are the children, this family has six children, The entire focus is the children. What has this lack of parenting done to the children, how are these children now fending for themselves, how are these children approaching the world, education, relationships. People watch these sort of shows all the time. Even I am watching it!! But in my own life – unlike this show, I didn’t see things from the perspective of the child (the daughters). It was only ever the perspective of the mother. Even when I type about the affair, you notice that I write about how it affected my mother, and my father. It is only an afterthought on how it may have affected us, her children.

this is because We were told that what she does or does not do is none of our business. That she had a bad life, and now she deserves to enjoy. That she has dedicated her whole life to us, blood sweat and tears, and we are not allowed any judgement. How dare we- she has a right to love like anyone else. And that we wouldn’t understand.

And so we didn’t judge really. And to be quite honest this little affair of hers or whatever it is didn’t really affect us, it’s not like this person was in our life, and it’s not like it changed the relationship between her and my father. I hadn’t lived at home for years I was at school. But when the kids become involved, when your affair tragically fails, go figure, then it does affect us. So like on the show, when the dysfunctional mother comes home, with another tragedy, who is jumping to her Side. The children. Interesting.

I see something here as we talk about the concept of hardness. I think about how there is another term involved, one that does not appear so malignant. The concept of distraction. In the example above I visualize myself walking to my white car on a hot day after an arduous exam. I think about how I likely have the natural feelings of any medical student, tiredness, fatigue, brain spinning. Common after such exams. But I have to push those feelings out-of-the-way, and power through, pick up the phone to speak to my parents about something quite absurd. Shift gears. Without even realizing. So what happens when I return to my apartment. Do those natural feelings return? Of course not, now they are nowhere to be found. And this is key. The natural needs float away. The gears were shifted. So now I am in my apartment, I probably think OK will what to do, I’ll drink some coffee and go out with friends. See it, right there,  I wasn’t able to authentically feel any relief after an exam, I was not able to feel anything at all. Which is always the case!

I had to power through, I had to push through. This example is just one of many. But very important.  I have told you many times that I often feel like I am not able to enjoy something right in front of me as my brain is elsewhere. Well of course it is, I have been trying to power through, being distracted is not a result of some inability of myself to focus. It is a pattern that was developed from early on. Shift gears, away from innate needs .

back to the example again as I find it very pivotal. I leave the exam, my head feels heavy, I feel tired. Inside my subconscious I want to rest. But my outward brain doesn’t have this thought as it is not a natural way for me to proceed.  My eyes need rest, my brain needs rest, my body needs rest. None of those innate feelings come to fruition. The innate needs never come to fruition. As a result I learn to avoid, and ignore these Innate feelings for pretty much the rest of my life. I have talked to you about coffee before. The fact that it ever came up even in conversation, something like coffee —for a reason. In the example above I go home drink some coffee and power through. Coffee has been a vehicle of mine to power through, instead of taking that nap, drink coffee and go socialize. Instead of sitting with my own thoughts on the couch for 20 minutes, drink coffee and go do something productive. Instead of napping after that exam, I am now wired from that phone call – well if I can’t nap drink coffee and onto the next. Caffeine or not it is the concept.  The concept of ignoring what I am feeling and moving forward. Running – not just the body but the mind.

So today right now in the middle of the night I turn on the light in the kitchen, I see a bag that we used yesterday evening, for a small picnic. I feel a small flicker of joy. But it is a microsecond, it is not lasting.   I am not telling this to complain that it is not lasting, but more to tell you that my innate feeling doesn’t last long ever, my brain quickly jumps to the next thing. I looked at this bag had a microsecond of some good feeling, and quickly my brain will forward. It was not able to stop, it was not able to pause, I was unable to sink and savor. Even in the middle of the night when there is no other task at hand. See this, this is programming. It is programming from my parents who distracted me from my own personal needs/thoughts very early on.

• This reply was modified 5 years, 7 months ago by Cali Chica.

Dear Anita

One more thing – it Just came to me – this exercise is bringing up many things to surface, it is bringing up how absolutely sick and tired I am of other people’s crap quite bluntly – I haven’t admitted this out loud in a long time if ever.

So you know what Anita,

I think it is annoying my sister lives in the same city as me.  Even if I don’t talk to her everyday it is annoying, its like she is always there in the background wanting to play, and I simply am too sick and tired of it.

see this comes up at a time when my sister has not really done anything wrong, and our interactions have been more superficial, meeting at the dog park from time to time.  she doesnt ask anything of me, or really ask to spend time together.  since the winter our relationship has taken a huge amount of space.

so in a way – I feel almost guilty saying this, but this is what came up – so I wrote it down, as it is important – everything that comes up during this exercise I will observe.

So yes, it is annoying she lives here – I already have trouble focusing inward, and the last thing I need is for any other thing to make it more difficult.  Yes it is on me, and my choice. but her mere presence on the other side of town feels onerous, today. even if I don’t see her.

i am sick and tired Anita of everyone else, of making mom happy, making that stupid woman happy who is unable to be happy.  for spending an entire lifetime running and chasing, constantly on the tracks of the marathon constantly.  thinking I get breaks, vacation, here and there – nope – no breaks ever.  my entire mind has been on the race track – no wonder I always say, no matter what – I feel the same.  Because it is the same.  It is always making the mother happy.

Well what did we say – lets starve the mother voice.  Perhaps for now starving the mother voice means not giving it its food (social interaction) telling it to shut up and sit alone for a bit

Dear Anita,

I got distracted by having fun myself – which was of no use to my mother, as my own fun does not enhance her agenda (of making herself look better)

I agree, I can not trust her representation of me.  In addition to what you wrote about her telling others I cry a lot, she also did this to evoke sympathy.

“oh look how much she handled this young mother, with the cranky child that never leads her side”

they used to talk about how I used to cling to my mothers side, the joke was “she couldn’t even go to the bathroom without me following her in” this was said in good fun humor, but also according to my mom – in a way that emphasized she had  no break, what a life, what a burden as a mother

Dear Anita,

Ever since I was a baby I cried all the time.  My mom always says it and so does everyone. Even when I went to India everyone says oh CC always cried a lot when she was a baby, they laugh about it and they think I am cute.  They joke about how I was a lot for my mom to handle.  They also say I am very special because I have beautiful eyes.

So I get in trouble because I cry and complain. Sometimes I don’t like what I am wearing so I rip it off.  I get mad. Sometimes I get in trouble because one time I ran away when we were at SEsame place.  I took my cousin and we went on an adventure and got lost. We had to go to the Sesame place lost office and they had to announce my parents overhead to get us.

it was bad- my mom said I should never do that again.  that i always get in big trouble like this.

sometimes at home my dad gets a bad temper when i complain – if he comes home from work and my mom is upset with me he gets a bad temper because he just got home

Dear Anita,

I posted again before your response.  If you would like to read first.

To answer, yes it is a good time to continue the exercise, an excellent time, as I feel memories and thoughts flowing:

You asked: did you have fun in the mall, what was happening there, in the mall (and after maybe, telling your cousins), what were you thinking, what were you feeling.. anything that comes to mind?

I am in the mall, it is fun here, it is close to my house. My mom says that it isn’t that good of a mall because there aren’t that many people here. She says sometimes it is depressing.  My mom likes to look at the perfumes, so we go there, the ladies in the makeup section always smell good and are pretty.  Maybe i can be like them one day. sometimes they tell me how pretty I am which is nice. it makes my mom happy when people say that.  she tells me that my cousins have jealousy because i am so special like that. sometimes it is bad to be special like that maybe.

i go to my cousins house the following weekend.  i forget to tell my cousins aboutthe mall trip because we are having fun outside playing a game in the apartment yard. my mom brings it up, she said oh CC had so much fun last weekend at the mall, we went there and she enjoyed so much.  I don’t say that much.

my mom says to me later: you always are running around with so much to say at home, but what about here in front of others – mute! – like a “roaring lion at home, but a scared lamb around others”

(rough translation to english – this quote comes up time and again in her frustration towards me)

Dear Anita,

I will add some quotes from your amazing passage, the ones that stick out the most to me and I would like to comment.

CC gets on a mission: to bring more people to her mother’s life, to make friends, to socialize and accumulate people.

In general, people think of the ability to make friends and keeping friends as a sign of mental health, but in your case, it was a compulsion fueled by your love for your mother.

you don’t realize that you are still compelled to make friends, to keep the ones you have, to socialize with others as your number one priority, because you are still trying to make your mother happy.

YES YES YES

This weekend I had cancelled all my plans, to have some personal time.  So many times in my head I was tempted to reach out and check in on a friend or two.  “how was that bridal shower, how was your day, how’s your pregnancy going…etc etc”

It felt like a compulsion for sure, a habit, an involuntary one – something that was knee jerk role of CC.  It wasn’t fueled by a truly honest need to know – more like “of course I have to check in and ask.”

The funny thing is Anita, yesterday, Sunday I made it a point to not do this. My husband was at a conference for most of the day.  I sat with my dog and my thoughts, we walked around, I pondered, I wrote to you.  I saw how much it felt like “failing” (my mother) that I wasn’t running around accumulating social interactions and people.  It sure did feel that way.  And you know what more? Guess what term started creeping into my mind – lonely.

Not unlike 5 year old CC, right? I had the term creep in my mind, “I have the whole day to myself” and perhaps the mother voice/perhaps the compulsion CC voice – said oh interesting, lonely.

It felt foreign to not engage and seek.  IT did.

But we have spoken about this before, this time around, I want to tie it in with our true conversation, the meat of the matter – the softness.

Hardness is for sure a survival mechanism.  I recall some more, maybe not from when I was 5, but regardless.  The next level:

young CC is sad because her cousins don’t include her.  Now, next level mother is not crying and “woe is me” she is now angry.  Level 2.  she says ‘why are we sitting around crying about those horrible people, look at how much we have! why would we care about them, come on lets get in the car and go to the mall.  we will have our own fun.”

so en route to the mall and EVERY single second there, she talks about this.  “screw them!” “look how much fun we are having.” “they never get to do stuff like this!” “next time you see your cousins tell them how much fun you had.”

In a way this contributed to the hardness, and the pattern I have now – to jump to compulsion without sitting with my sad feelings first. 

For example Sunday, I sat with it – to a point “oh it is interesting to walk around this city, without being with someone or running to a plan – just walking to walk.  it is fun, but does feel strange.”

The normal CC would get on the phone and “make the call shes been meaning to.”  Why? Well of course seek and bring more socialness to her life (to her mother’s life)

This hardness is intertwined with seeking, a compulsion to seek, to be social and prioritize others – the outward life.  It is the duty of myself as a daughter to my mother.

The hardness is intertwined with this because it takes a hardened individual to gloss over their own needs, soft feelings and jump straight to “roar lets do this, lets go! power on!”