๐Ÿ’” mommy dearest ๐Ÿ’”

๐Ÿ’” revised post from mother’s day this year ๐Ÿ’”

I couldn’t believe it … when I was first told … the person that raised me was for real is a petty mean troll … She was hateful indeed and there was no doubt … that loathing she did went beyond way up and out … Yet my being raised so out of control … it was the devil from hell that wanted my soul …

Once I knew that she loved to hurt me … she sure did that that to me a lot indeed … On purpose was her pain … aimed directly at my brain … where it was disordered yet sane … although crazy causing anxiety in my brain …

For years, I made it my mission that I’d find a way to please … the evil monster she was … while up to appease … The orders she tried to succumb … yet instead she managed to regain control over some …

She blamed me for several … of covered up wrongs … my disorder playing like an old song … with her look of disgust … that quickly became a must … to settle on down … to calm my fears while coveting my trust …

She hated on me … for many years more…. while telling me I was never going to be any good … that I was brainless and dumb … I was told time and again … I knew better and when … I disagreed with her … it was much to her chagrin …

Feeling ashamed that I was being stupid all over again … I had no real guidance that gave me a start … with me … grasping for instructions on the minute details of her black heart …

Through the cloudy ADHD haze … disordered and dazed … feeling the hatred from her arrive … for her it’s just in due time … realizing then that she must … not love me … while claiming that I was the one that was acting real bad … yes that had to be me …

I’d feel so bad that I couldn’t be good … this evil woman I’d begun to hate … while I realized that I would never be understood … her knowing that goodness … freely flowed out of me … that depressing blanket of black … hovered above me … while covering up the unimpeachable … just step back, wait and see …

Paralyzing taunts from the evil in her …. that plagued my thoughts … I certainly was not any old amatuer … ONLY WANTING HER TO LOVE ME … all that now thank God is a blur … Yet all I could do then … is pray that everything was going to be okay …

She turned my sweet … my baby girl … into a mini little “she” … told her fake news all about me … making me want to flee … these roads while just leaving all this be …

I was slipping away into that cold dark pit – that was harrowing, scary and warm not a bit … why do I always get accused of being an irritating brat …

… the fact that I’m really smart … isn’t very well known and she lied to me … which definitely did set the pace … it’s set in stone and unfortunately for me … I fell in disgrace and her presence followed me … lurking all around the place …

she was always telling more lies about me … unforgettable yet still absurd … now as I look back on those shameful days thankfully those days of old … I often never ever heard … the apologies resounding from her frosty cold soul …

she’s never going to accept me, ever I thought … that I’d never make it back from all of the dark words and shameful taunts …

the evil clinging inside of her brain – is way hotter than hell … I would never be the same … so much confusing chaos … all around her while silently praying but to no avail … she’d go head first … crashing through my many mistakes … while holding them all not just one … over me with no brakes …

I don’t feel guilty or anything bad … because I’m free to hate her now … for any unpleasantness that narcissists spread … The guilt as the scapegoat almost suffocated me many years ago … from the lies, calling names and with references that I’d been born from down below …

throughout each night … from daylight to dark … I’d been brought down real low … I should’ve fallen apart …

I craved for her to acknowledge me … for her to be proud … knowing it was doubtful at best .. yet somehow I was meant to believe … there has to be some good in everyone …

narcissists don’t have one ounce of good … so now I no longer care if she acknowledged me back then or not … I was completely blown over when shown what she was … that day not very easily forgot …

I learned the hard way that she would never feel love for me or for you … while strolling along in life … Hopelessly … she’d groan causing so much strife … and with pain coming down … directly aimed at my soul … I wasn’t about to let anyone know …

I’m finally free ever since I’ve known what label she supports … masking emotions and things of that sort …

Manipulators and controllers stay busy all about … I tried so long to be a real good girl … there should be no doubt …

I feel as if in a bind of chaos inside foggy clouds … I was unable to verbalize my feelings out loud … being locked in my own little world every day … so so quiet … still sensing her hate unmasking when she’d fake a smile at me ..

I was finally released … from her diabolical mind … my memories from then are ultimately at peace … I would no longer wish for her to be kind …

I rode out the hard pain … that hovered … barely … above me … while having thoughts that I feared that mostly involved you as well as me …

I am finally at the point in my life … I no longer have feelings … not for nor about her … and I no longer tolerate any damn strife … I am at peace inside knowing my worth “as it were” …

๐Ÿ’” if you or someone you know is a daughter of a narcissistic mother ๐Ÿ’” reach out to them … they need someone to understand them and the depth of their immense emotional pain … because they believe everything is their fault … ๐Ÿ’” when it’s not …
๐Ÿ’” here are some informative and helpful links ๐Ÿ’”

Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers: A Bond Made of Selfishness and Coldness

Daughters Of Narcissistic Mothers

The Incredible Healing Power of Reddit’s ‘RaisedbyNarcissists’ Support Group

Do You Have A Narcissistic Mother?

8 Common, Long-Lasting Effects of Narcissistic Parenting

What happens when you live in the shadow of a narcissistic parent?

The Invisible War Zone: 5 Ways Children Of Narcissistic Parents Self-Destruct In Adulthood

๐Ÿ’” thank you for reading, following and
commenting ๐Ÿ’”

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… my SouL cries … โค๏ธMY PERSONAL STORY (part three of three)

(foreword … continued from part two)

… One thing I neglected to mention earlier, was that my mother had come into money after my Grandpa died, as well as my Dad. My Grandpa had married a wealthy woman and all their money was being left to my Dad and to me. I was in my early thirties when Grandpa died. My mother had talked Grandpa into leaving the money that he was going to leave me, to her instead. She told him she didn’t trust me and that I was on drugs ~ which I was not, not at that time. He was in the beginnings of dementia so he wasn’t seeing her deceit. Bless his heart, he did what she requested and left it all to her. Three hundred thousand dollars is what he’d left to her, believing her promise to give it to me a little at a time when I needed it until I was 21. My two favorite aunt’s both told me the year after it happened, because I had no idea my Grandpa had any money to leave anyone. That was a big surprise to me. No one ever told me anything.

(part three … of three)

… Since I had been on the streets, I’d heard through the grapevine, that a girl I met while out there, needed help to get away from a violent boyfriend. Of course, I wanted to help, so I let her stay with me and my son while she decided her next course of action.

A few days before she came to stay, my settlement came through, and I picked it up from the lawyers office. I didn’t put it in the bank because I was going to spend it all on my cousins double wide trailer I was buying. So I hid it under my box springs, under my queen sized mattress. It was the older box springs that had little stair steps under the inside of them. I put the money that was in a bank bag, between those stair steps.

I had relapsed yet again a couple weeks before, for the fifth time and that pull it had, was definitely pulling me. I had a friend find me a dealer that would deliver to my house so I was not out on the roads. I wanted to be left alone so I smoked it most all by myself. My son was able to buy himself some cool new school clothes and other things he’d wanted. I was not so caught up that I wanted to spend all my money on drugs while during the times before, I didn’t care if I did or not.

My son had lived me through my entire addiction, and he knew what I was doing even before I realized it and trying to hide it. There would no hiding the fact that I was high on crack, because a drug like that is easily recognized once that pipe is hit.

My son knew but loved me anyway. To this day, I tell him he is my hero because he is the ONLY reason i didn’t seriously consider taking my life back then. I never seriously considered that in my life but it gave me an insight to how people could be in a certain place emotionally and would be able to do something like that to themselves. My son saved me from suicide and from relapsing again on COCAINE. He is my true hero forever. God gave me the best son ever, and I waved him to have all he ever dreamed. Especially since I was the cause of his dream being crushed.

It was a very scary and surreal realization. I thank God for my strong mind to this day or I never would have survived what I’d gone through back then. No one knows some of the horrors I endured but I had no one to blame but myself.

What had I done?

The girl I had promised to help and stay in our home was around for three days. The last day she was there, when she left with no word to either of us. She had taken my entire world with her and my son’s as well, only we weren’t aware of it at that time.

Nothing would ever be the same again, I was about to find out.

I recall vividly my son running into my room one morning, crying and mad because she had taken the money out of his billfold that he’d received from his Daddy. He had been saving up and he had 70$ but now it was gone, and so was she.

Once I realized the hard fact that they were both gone, a chill ran through my entire body.

Right then, in my gut, I knew that I had somehow messed up, by allowing this woman into my home for those few days. I ran to my hiding place, under the box springs and was horrified when I grabbed the money bag from where I had so carefully hidden it. The money, or dream house money, over 30,000.00 was gone!
In that instant my team cold and my heart sank, pounding in my ears and it made me feel as if I were going to pass out right there. I was more or less in shock. Why does this type of crap always happen to me when all I wanted to do was HELP someone out of a horrific situation I once been in myself. We were learning how cruel and mean people really were. Was everyone just a thief and only out for themselves?

I had just wanted to help her because I understood where she was at in her violent relationship. I thought people had the same heart as I did but this woman proved me dead wrong. Just because I helped her, that didn’t stop her from abusing me like so many others had done before her, including my parents. I figured it was just going to keep hairline to me but I wasn’t worried about me, it was my son’s crushed dreams I was over there top about!

I felt those old emotions and feelings come back. The ADHD symptoms weren’t as bad during my addiction because I’m guessing that the cocaine kept my feelings and emotions quite numb, so they didn’t appear as often when I was I using. I’m no professional, but it makes sense to me, that was what caused that to happen. It was all I could do to hold it together and to this day I don’t know how on earth I did.

I had to worry about my son at that point because he was so devastated that my heart broke into millions of pieces, watching and listening to him get angry, only for him to turn around and be crying for his loss. In my mind, I was his mother and I had neglected to protect him just as I was unable to protect my daughter years before.

I felt so utterly worthless and useless and just no damn good. I didn’t deserve to live as far as I concerned. I had to be the WORST mother than ever lived, why me and why my babies? I never tried to hurt anyone so why was everyone trying to hurt us? I was lost and no clue what to do or where to start.

I silently begged God to save my son from this pain, knowing that it was my fault that he was hurting and I was the one who deserved all the pain, not my baby boy.

Since I had no money after this cunning burglary, I could not pay rent, and two months later we were evicted from our home. During this time, my son had stayed several nights with one of his classmates.

I had nowhere for us to go. I was lost and confused, but I wasn’t doing crack anymore, so that was a plus.

Thankfully, a classmate of my son’s, told his mom what was going on and she came to me, offering my son a home until I could get back on my feet. Relief that God had answered my prayer hit me and I remember feeling so grateful for this angel of a woman, offering her family and home to help my baby.

God had already been working on my son’s behalf. I didn’t care about myself, I just was to be sure that he was going to be taken care of while my gut cringed up painfully, with the thought of being away from him. I cannot find the words to tell you how dark and alone I felt, not to mention what a worthless piece of crap I was for allowing this to happen to us.

So he now has a bonus mom and bonus brothers in his life. At that time I was so grateful that my son would not be homeless with me, I saw her as an angel God had given him. Although since then, she and I have had our differences but that didn’t really matter to me. She didn’t care for very much but all I cared about was that she loved my son. It wasn’t about me. What mattered most to me that she was helping my son and I was beyond thankful for them and for them accepting my baby boy into their life as “family”.

๐Ÿ’œI tried harder than I ever tried before to get a job anywhere I could in my small hometown. Sadly, no one would consider hiring me because of my well known addiction problems. There was nobody that was willing to give me a chance. My son’s bonus mom seemed angry with me as time went on and I still had no job while in her mind, I should have been able to get a job regardless and that I couldn’t have been trying very hard. Would anyone ever believe in me again? Was I just meant to fall and hurt my children who I loved more than anything in this entire world?

I eventually had to move to the next town over, leaving my son to stay with his bonus family. I went the nearest homeless shelter because I was afraid if I stayed in my hometown, I would relapse once again. Above all else, I could NOT let that happen again. I had to show my strength for my son’s sake.

Years passed, and my son grew into a young man. I was never able to get any job steady anywhere, so we were probably never going to be able to live together as a family again. This was a sobering thought for me. I tried not to allow the guilt to harbor full force, but it took the reins anyway and did exactly that!

He stayed with that family that took him in when he had no other place to go until a few months ago. He is now planning on moving with his sister to Missouri to start a fresh life. Their Daddy passed a short time ago and they both need this fresh start. I’m gonna to miss him like crazy of course, but I wouldn’t hold him back for the world. He lost to much in his young life and I never wanted him to miss out on anything ever again. Especially, not because of me. He was better off without me I thought because all I seemed to do is hurt my kids. I could not fail this precious boy again.

My daughter has not spoken to me since 2015 nor has she let me see my grandkids. I don’t believe it had anything to do with the burglary situation but more to do with an online discussion we had on Instagram after I had moved to Longview, where I reside to this day. I’ve reached out to her countless times through email since she has me blocked on FB, only for me to receive a short response or no response at all. Well no response in being interested to get together and talk this out anyway. She is using the silent treatment on me and is very good at ignoring me. She sees me as someone who blamed others for my mistakes and that can’t be any further from the truth. She harbors a grudge longer than anyone I have ever known, except for her grandmother, my mother. She’s in contact with her of course and is my mother’s power of attorney.

There is a hole in my heart where her and the kids are supposed to be. I’m crushed because she refuses to acknowledge me anytime I ask her to talk this out with me, whatever the problem might be. Any correspondence I receive from her is vague and distant, short small talk if you will.

The problem is they I’m not sure why she’s not speaking to me. She hasn’t told me which leads me to believe believe she either doesn’t care or she’s waiting on me to figure out why by myself. I would just rather get together, hash it out and move on with our lives. What she’s doing now seems a lot like she’s playing games, making me sweat and paying me back.

She was speaking to me until 2015 and the only thing that happened after that was I was talking about my mother in a post that I had posted on FB, and she didn’t like that everyone could see it. Normally I’m not going to put it out there like that, but I had just been fed up that my mother always seemed to get by with everything and she would always make sure everyone knew I was the bad guy in her story, everytime.

Since I had been hooked on drugs and had mental issues earlier in my young adulthood, people believed anything she would say about me for the most part.

I’d had my fill, hence the post. All I can do is be here if she reaches back to me, and cry almost daily for the love of my little girl to come back. She’s grown into an amazing woman, and is an exceptional mother to two of my grandkids.

Lastly, my kids include one that I didn’t give birth to but she had my heart at the time. She was going through a lot in her young life and my heart broke for her. You could see the pain she was in but I felt so helpless to do anything. She wouldn’t allow me to. This other child, who I love dearly, is my bonus daughter. My son’s father’s daughter with his first wife. She has two girls that are precious and they are my bonus grandkids. She was 12 when I first met her and was quite the rebellious teen that had a bad attitude and acted out all time.

She didn’t like me at all from the beginning. I got frustrated with her from time to time but it was only because she didn’t listen to me. All I wanted to accomplish with her is that I wanted her to like me. She was my son’s sister and I wanted them to be close and I wanted a place in her life as well. It took years for us to become close to any degree, but she grew up from that rebellious young girl into a beautiful young woman that is an excellent mother, daughter and sister. They are my family. My son’s father’s entire family became my family, despite our rocky relationship and they are now the only family I have. My mother but to many years ago told me that I no longer had a family, they were her family, not mine. I was told to leave them alone, so I did. I’m referring to my mother’s side of the family. Not one of them ever tried to contact me after that, except one first cousin and her hubby that I still talk to regularly today.

I wish i could go back and change so many things but I can’t. It’s just so important for my kids to know exactly, how deeply I loved them back then and that I did my best with what I knew. I need them to know how much they mean to me and how much they mean to me now.

There’s an urgency inside of me, rushing me to let them know this. I pray one day that my daughter will forgive me and my prayer is that will happen before I leave this world. I’m at peace within myself and in the process of being at peace with God.

๐Ÿ’šPlease like my blog’s fb page
๐Ÿ’™Please like my fb page dedicated to my kids and grandkids

๐Ÿ’›Please like my fb page that is emotionally supportive to people with STIGMA related disorders and diseases. Including ADHD, adult ADHD, depression, anxiety, HIV/AIDS, obesity, and other mental disorders.

๐Ÿ’™ Please like my fb page for survivors of domestic violence.

๐Ÿ’š Please like my fb page for encouragement to never give up

๐Ÿ’œ Please like my fb page for emotional support and encouragement thru your life recovery journey (it’s not just recovery from addictions, it’s recovery from all of life’s challenges)

โค๏ธcheLLeโค๏ธ

๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’š Thanxxx for reading, commenting and following ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ

… my SouL cries ๐Ÿ’œ MY STORY ~~~ (part two of three)

( … continued from part one)

… When my son was 6 years old, I left his father. My daughter had been married for a few months when I finally left him for good. I had left many times before that but I always returned soon thereafter. I finally ended up staying in a domestic violence safe house for a few months in a nearby town (I never went back after that), trying to get my life back on track. Alhough I don’t think it had really ever been on track in the first place.

My daughter had given birth to my grandson three months after I had given birth to her brother. They came to visit us in the DV safe house and we were very close at this time in my life.

I still have problems remembering the exact timeline of events that transpired after I left the safe house.

I left the safe house after being in the safe house approximately six months, I believe, with my precious young son in tow and I returned sadly, once again to my mother’s house.

My mother wouldn’t allow me to move my young son in with us. This was one of her favorite ways of belittling me, by not allowing my son in her home. In her mind he was just like me and she couldn’t be bothered. I was stuck and saw no other choice but to let him stay with his Dad but I ached for him daily.

She will never know the amazing person she missed out on by dismissing her grandson from her life. He went to his dad’s to live with him and his sister on his dad’s side around 20 minutes away.

Although I missed him horribly, it’s better that he was never around my mother at all. She’d never really had anything to do with him anyway, so it was no loss for him. However, it almost breaks me when I think of that precious little boy who must have been so scared and missing his mama.

My mother couldn’t have cared less where my son was because she was to focused on being “large” in my daughter’s life so my daughter couldn’t “see”me.

Oh God, my heart hurts writing this…

My distorted and clouded brain made the life changing decision one day to go to our closest town. I just never went back to my mother’s until years later. I had run away, although it wasn’t planned. It was a stupid and impulsive decision (another symptom of adult ADHD) Impulsive actions like that are never very smart ideas but I had no social skills to realize how wrong it actually was. Now, when I left for town that way, I had no idea what I planned on doing, all I can remember was I had to get away from my mother. That was my main focus and I hadn’t thought passed that. I would regret that for a very long time.

I was clueless of the negative impact that impulsive decision would have on our future.

I was now officially homeless and I was very afraid, wondering what I had gotten myself into. I migrated to the “hood” and I adapted to street life rapidly because that was a necessity if you wanted to survive. I was going on fumes, not stopping to think about anything. I was afraid if I did, I would break down and cry and I already could tell you didn’t let the streets see you cry. That became habit for the next several years.

I’m not going to go into detail about my life on the streets (another blog post for another time) just suffice it to say that once on the street, I became addicted to crack cocaine within the first month. It was to become an incredibly hard life for me and that was even more proof that the impulsive decision I made to go to town that day was the wrong one, but I never guessed it would lead me straight into the flames of hell, and by then I was to powerless to stop or change it.

My son was with his Daddy when I ended up living on the streets and then he lived with his Daddy’s mother, his Meme. He was with family that loved him and that was more than I could offer him at this point. It crushed me to know this and accept that it was true but it was and I loved him enough to let him go. People just don’t get how damn hard that was for me. I missed him so terribly every single day, I missed him. I never stopped moving around for long because I would start thinking about him if I did and I would break down.

During this stage of my life, I didn’t see my son. No one told me I couldn’t see him, but I didn’t feel worthy to see him. I had gotten myself into something (the street) and had no idea how to get out of it. I felt like the biggest waste of life by this time.

Although the cocaine kept me going and numb, it couldn’t stop the sharp pains I felt when I thought about my kids. I had failed miserably as a mother, as a daughter, and as a human being, in my mind. I should be dead but there was no way I could kill myself because if I could have, I probably would have at this point.

I was eaten alive with guilt the entire time I was on the streets, that feeling was never numbed by cocaine, no matter how much I used. Believe me, I used enough trying to numb the guilt pain I felt. That mind and body crippling guilt stayed with me until this past year.

***Word of advice. Never make a decision out of spite!

Because, you will be screwed every time. Trust me. I left my mother’s home because I was sick of her feeding me negativity all the time and abusing me off things I wasn’t doing. I couldn’t stand to hear that I was a failure one more time so I left.

That decision cost me more than I would have ever been willing to pay. It cost me losing the life I should have had with my son. Not one day goes by that I don’t not think about this or get teary eyed and cry because I will suddenly just remember. It haunts me to this day. What if?

My son may never totally comprehend the horrible pain and deep loss I experienced, because of the decision I made that day to go to town, out of spite. He did; however, suffer an extensive loss himself later on and it was all my fault. He lost his mom and that gets me instantly crying when I think of it. I messed everything up, always ๐Ÿ˜ข I was conditioned to think this way, I didn’t want to but it was automatic.

I wanted subconsciously, to hurt my mother so she would hurt like I did, that’s why I believe I left. It backfired on me. I never consciously made the decision to hurt her because I didn’t realize I wasn’t returning. I just simply stated gone every day until I just never went back. But now, looking back, I was so naive in my thinking because I thought that surely she had to love me somewhere in her heart and if I left her, she would see how much she did love me and beg me to come back. Then, she would happily take me to get my son and let us live with her. I blows my mind now, that after all she put me through, that I still wanted to believe that she loved me. I still thought people had the same heart as I did. I was soon to find out, that was not the case at all. It would be a very bitter pill for me to swallow.

I’m not writing this for anyone to feel sorry for me or for attention. I’m doing it for my own healing, because I matter and my pain matters and so my kids will have my story told to them, by me. They have heard my story by others thinking it was theirs to tell. My voice has a right to finally be heard!

I’m writing this so I can tell my kids how deeply I loved them when they were little, despite my many mistakes. I want to tell them how sorry I am for not being the mother I yearned to be in my heart. I wanted to tell them how wrong I was for not being there for them when they needed me, especially.

Once, I was off the streets, some 5 years later, my son came to live with me. It was a long and hard road for me to get there but I felt real good inside about myself for the first time, and I felt like a true “good” mother for the first time in my life.

We moved a few times during the next few years, but for a few years there we were really doing good.

Unfortunately, it was not to last …

๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ part three to be published soon ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’™

๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’› thank you for reading, following and commenting ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’š