Updated: Sep. 17, 2020
Originally Published: July 6, 2019
For several years, my connection with my mother has been virtually nonexistent. From my earliest memories, something always seemed amiss with her. As a child, I recall her spending excessive amounts of time in bed, having explosive reactions, and placing high demands on those around her while contributing very little in return. Support in our home often felt weaponized against me, with no expressions of love, and any inquiry regarding her alcohol or drug use would lead to intense anger. My mother consistently isolated herself from friends and family, exhibiting a quick temper.
As I entered my early thirties, her troubling behavior escalated significantly. I chose to maintain a safe distance from her; we stopped talking on the phone and only saw each other during large family gatherings. Our relationship had deteriorated to the point where I felt I had to cut her out of my life to shield myself from her anger, manipulation, and dishonesty. I desperately sought answers and wished to help resolve whatever issues existed, but my pleas were met with distorted perspectives that suggested I was the one with the problem.
Deep down, I knew something was wrong, but I struggled to identify it. Was she struggling with addiction? Did she have underlying mental health issues? Or was she simply a toxic individual? My mother often lashed out, never displaying nurturing qualities, and only expressed love when I reached adulthood. She seemed almost childlike—demanding care while asserting control in her own disruptive manner. My father played the role of her biggest supporter, protector, enabler, and often, a target for her anger.
When I learned that my mother was unable to walk, I decided to step in, as my father provided excuses for not taking her to the hospital. What was the secret being hidden? How could she refuse medical help when she was in such a state? After much back and forth, threats to call an ambulance, and persuasive efforts, my mother finally agreed to go to the local hospital. Following multiple tests and, predictably, lies about her alcohol consumption, it became clear that her body was beginning to shut down due to long-term alcoholism.
This revelation was a turning point for me, as all the pieces of my childhood—the fights, the intoxicated rages, the poor decisions, and the blatant lies—finally clicked into place. Unfortunately, this clarity did not extend to my parents. The following day when I visited her during detox, her irrational arguments escalated, leading me to leave when she threatened to assert her “rights” to see my children. In the weeks that followed, my dad continued to shield her, downplaying her alcoholism while focusing on other health issues the hospital had uncovered.
Throughout my life, I had held onto the hope of having a mother-daughter relationship like those I observed in others. I longed for her to express love during my childhood, wished for her to be more present in my life, and hoped our happy moments weren’t just strategic moments to be used as ammunition later. I wished that during my wedding, she could celebrate with our family rather than be embroiled in conflict, and I craved joyful memories instead of painful ones. Now, as a mother myself, I yearn for her guidance and wish for my children to have the bond with her that I share with my grandmother. I imagined that as we aged, we could have cultivated a friendship, cherishing the moments together. It pains me to write this, but deep down, I know my mother is unlikely to change. Once her hospital stay concludes, I expect her to revert to her old habits. I will remain here, ready to support her if and when she decides to seek help.
In the meantime, I will keep my distance and strive to provide my children with everything my mother could not offer me. For further insights on navigating these complexities, you might find this blog post helpful: sample page. Additionally, if you’re looking for authoritative resources on home insemination, check out Cryobaby. For comprehensive information on fertility treatments, NHS IVF resources are an excellent option.
Summary:
The author reflects on their painful relationship with an alcoholic mother, detailing moments of confusion, anger, and disappointment. Despite years of hoping for a healthy mother-daughter bond, the reality has been fraught with conflict and emotional distance. As a mother now, the author desires a different experience for their own children and remains ready to support their mother should she choose to seek help.