Sunday, 1 September 2019

Why don't you love me?

One of the biggest milestones on my way to recovery (which still is an ongoing process) was the discovery that my non-mother simply hates me to the bone. It took me so many years to accept this obvious fact because of at least four reasons. First, Stockholm syndrome. Second, her constant lies, so common among narcs. Third, social discourse. Fourth, so-called religious upbringing. 

But, since I came to this realization, I started asking myself a plain question: WHY? And again, I fell in self-blaming and looking for the explanations within myself until I remembered how I hated someone else to the bone without any particular reason. No one was more surprised by this feeling than I was. It seemed to come out of nowhere. Now it's clear that people with 'narcissistic wound' (not necessarily narcs) may have this compulsive need to direct the hatred toward one or more people. In their minds, there is, of course, a good justification for that which, in fact, doesn't have a lot in common with common sense. But... we must hate someone just like we were hated, usually by our own mother. 

However, there is one big problem here. In most cases, we don't know that our beloved mom hated us. We do not accept the reality, for it might have destroyed us. Whereas, it is quite the opposite. 

It's easier when people are aware that the mother never loved them. You may think that bearing this knowledge is something terrible but unawareness is much worse. This is like living with a big secret that is tormenting our subconscious and nervous system. The body knows that it was hurt and that there was no love, yet the intellect tries to dupe it. 

For my non-mother, I was the perfect scapegoat to transfer her hatred, anger, and accusations. She could blame me for everything she desired because it was allowed by her non-family, church, society, educational system, etc. She could feel the relief whenever she wanted, thus her changing moods, bursts of anger coming out of nowhere, inconsistency in the value system. Nobody knew she hated me. Nobody knew she never loved me. Nobody knew she was a real threat to my health and life on a daily basis. She was 'safe'.

No comments:

Post a Comment

We, Suicidals

 We are a different species. Nobody can actually understand us; others can only accept we exist, that's it. But honestly, it's enoug...