The Mommy Problem

The author on a relationship ruptured by mental illness.

Mood music for this post: “Sorry” by Guns ‘N Roses (from Chinese Democracy):

I told myself never to write this one. Too many people would feel burned. Then I remembered those who won’t like this are already angry with me. This is a critical piece of my journey through mental illness, addiction and recovery. So in I go.

Those who know me well know I haven’t gotten along with my mother and step-father for a long time. It’s been nearly four years since we were all in the same room.┬áThere really is no blame to be assigned. No one person is completely innocent or at fault. Depression, addictive behavior and anger run deep in the family line, and ruptured relationships are often the tragic result.

I definitely take responsibility for my wrongs along the way. But the end result is sadly necessary.

But not irreversable.

I remember a lot of yelling in my house as a kid. Most of the time, it came from my mother. I remember a lot of hitting, too. And a lot of tears.

I also remember her worrying about me endlessly and sitting beside my hospital bed for weeks on end as the Crohn’s Disease raged inside me, and dragging herself to her wit’s end taking care of my grandparents and great-grandmother, all of whom could be difficult.

We often look at abusive relationships in black and white. There’s the abuser and the victim. But it’s never that simple.

I forgave my mother a long time ago for the darker events of my childhood. I doubt I would have done much better in her shoes. Her marriage to my father was probably doomed from the start, and the break-up was full of rancor. Me and my brother were sick a lot, and one of us didn’t make it.

I didn’t fully appreciate what a body blow that was until I became a parent. After Michael died, she became a suffocating force in my life. I did the same to my own kids until I started dealing with the OCD.

I think she did the best she could under the circumstances.

So why has the relationship been cold for nearly four years?

There are many reasons. Some her fault, some mine, and a lot of other relationships have been bruised and broken in the process.

There’s a lot I can get into about this, but the simplest answer is that this relationship is a casualty of mental illness and addiction. This one can’t be repaired so easily, because much of my OCD and addictive behavior comes directly from her.

She is my biggest trigger.

This is an old story. Mental illness and addiction are almost always a family affair. I was destined to have a binge-eating addiction because both my parents have one. They were never drinkers, though my step-father was. Food was their narcotic. And so it became for me.

The fatal rupture in this relationship came in the summer of 2006. I was two years into my treatment for OCD and the binge eating was still in full swing. I was an emotional mess that summer. Late that July I had surgery for a deviated septum and was lying around drugged up all week. The kids were home and Erin was trying to do her job and take on all the stuff I couldn’t do around the house. So I asked my mother to come over for a few hours and play with the kids.

That morning, the phone rang.

“So tell me again what you need me to do when I get there,” my mother asked, after going on a tirade about what an inconvenience this was for her.

“I just want you to play with the kids for a few hours while Erin works,” I said. It seemed a reasonable request, since she was always on me about seeing more of her grandchildren.

“I’m coming up there so YOUR WIFE can work?” she asked icily.

That was the breaking point. I got angry and hung up. I figured it would blow over. What followed was a brutal e-mail exchange where she ripped my wife to shreds and blamed her for everything. There was also a lot of swipes in my direction about how I was the laughing stock of the family and that my wife had me whipped.

We tried to repair the damage three times. The first time was in February 2007. She called and we had a long talk. I thought we had reached some common ground. I wanted to take it slow, and I wanted her and Erin to get in the same room, have it out and reach some sort of understanding.

Then I realized my mother was just trying to get us to come to my step-father’s 70th birthday party. Who can blame her? Heck, I wanted to be there. But I wanted us to hash out our differences first. She refused to do any of that “until after Bob’s party.” From my perspective she was just stalling and never had any real intention to do what I felt was needed. We didn’t get to Bob’s party, and the nasty e-mail exchanges continued.

At the time, we had agreed to meet at the Starbucks in Peabody to talk things over — just me, her and Erin. Erin and I went into the coffee shop and watched as my mother just sat there in the parking lot. I called her cellphone and asked if she was coming in.

“I’m not discussing family business in a crowded coffee shop,” she bellowed. We were to come sit in her mini-van. I said no. She said “fuck you, Bill” and that was that.

In hindsight, I handled that one poorly. I can understand why she wouldn’t want to talk in a busy coffee shop, but I was under the impression we could talk in a civilized tone and that the venue didn’t matter. From my mother’s perspective, Erin and I were there to gang up on her. I can now understand why she felt that way.

Badly handled by me that day.

The vicious e-mail exchanges continued.

Then, last summer, I met with her for lunch. I told her all about my treatment for OCD and how I was in a 12-Step Program for the binge eating disorder. She seemed to get where I was coming from. I was certain this was the start of the healing.

Then she sent an e-mail a week later asking when she was going to see her grandchildren. I told her Erin needed more time but I was ready to sit down with Bob on my own. I expected he’d sit there and call me every name in the book and tell me how much I had hurt the family, and I was ready to just sit there and take it. He was entitled to that.

But they were having none of that.

My mother sent another e-mail suggesting I was whipped and controlled by my wife, and that I was the laughingstock of the family as a result. Back to square one.

That was in August. We haven’t spoken since.

I don’t know if she reads this blog. I kinda hope not, because she won’t understand.

I’d like to mend fences but don’t think it’s going to happen.

As far as she’s concerned, I’m a heartless, selfish bastard who does everything my wife tells me to do and that I’ve denied her the right to see her grandchildren.

As far as I’m concerned, I need to keep my distance from my OCD triggers, and she is the biggest trigger I have. It sucks. But it’s an unfortunate fact.

I’ve wrestled with this mightily. My Faith tells me I need to honor my mother and father. Every time I go into the confession booth at church it’s the first thing I bring up.

One priest put it this way: “Honor thy mother and father doesn’t mean you roll over and allow abuse to continue.” Still, I wrestle with it.

But for the sake of my immediate family, recovery has to come first.

Without it, I fail EVERYONE.

53 thoughts on “The Mommy Problem

  1. Pingback: When ‘Helicopter Parents’ Get Easter Egg On Their Faces | THE OCD DIARIES

  2. Pingback: I’d Like To Blame My Parents, But… | THE OCD DIARIES

  3. Pingback: Gave Up Giving Up For Lent | THE OCD DIARIES

  4. Pingback: New Facebook Page: ‘Justice For Jessica Cormier’ | THE OCD DIARIES

  5. Pingback: Playing Chicken With The Wedding Train | THE OCD DIARIES

  6. Pingback: RIP Jessica Cormier | THE OCD DIARIES

  7. Pingback: Another Brick In The Wall | THE OCD DIARIES

  8. Pingback: When You’re A Kid, Little Incidents Are A Big Deal | THE OCD DIARIES

  9. Pingback: My Mother Found The Blog | THE OCD DIARIES

  10. Pingback: A Loss Beyond All Reason and Comprehension | THE OCD DIARIES

  11. Pingback: A Call From My Mother | THE OCD DIARIES

  12. I only hope my children will feel at least I tried my best. I have Bipolar and sometimes feel I am not good enough for them and they deserve better than me. I spent 2 years having intense treatment & was discharged from the Mental Health Team around 4 months ago now. I feel immense guilt and failure for who and what I am at times x

  13. Pingback: Black Sheep Can Find Love, Too | THE OCD DIARIES

  14. Pingback: An Expected Encounter With My Mother | THE OCD DIARIES

  15. Pingback: Protecting Your Kids Isn’t Always Right | THE OCD DIARIES

  16. I’m not sure why this post is just now coming up in one of my feeds, but I’m glad I read it.It sounds like your mother was dealt a bad hand early in life and it shaped how she sees all relationships. It also sounds like she may not have worked outside the home when you and your brother were small, so she may not have grasped why she needed to entertain your children that day/week — and why Erin didn’t ask or explain it to her instead of going through you since she was the prime beneficiary of the request. (Just playing devil’s advocate here.) It’s unfortunate that it was the catalyst for so many years of rancor, but I am sure her attitude toward your relationship with your wife is not that unique. That’s why this is a very good post for everyone to read.

    • God Bless you, Erin, your chidren and parents!!! I hope all works out :0) I truly enjoy your articles…..I’m sure so many can honestly relate!!!

  17. Pingback: Fear and Resentment. Resentment and Fear « THE OCD DIARIES

  18. Pingback: The ‘Woe Is Me’ Disease « THE OCD DIARIES

  19. Pingback: In Big Families, Drama Happens. Get Over It « THE OCD DIARIES

  20. Pingback: Mothers « THE OCD DIARIES

  21. Pingback: The Sinister Minister’s Definition of Normal « THE OCD DIARIES

  22. Pingback: OCD and ADHD Linked? Maybe « THE OCD DIARIES

  23. Pingback: Why Does God Let This Happen? « THE OCD DIARIES

  24. Pingback: Raising Sane Kids In An Insane World « THE OCD DIARIES

  25. Pingback: Tension Mounts, On With The Body Count « THE OCD DIARIES

  26. Pingback: A Visit to Duncan’s Doctor « THE OCD DIARIES

  27. Pingback: I Surrendered, But I’ll Never Quit « THE OCD DIARIES

  28. Pingback: Death of a Sibling « THE OCD DIARIES

  29. Pingback: Bullied Minds, Bad Choices « THE OCD DIARIES

  30. Pingback: Thank You « THE OCD DIARIES

  31. Pingback: Black Rain « THE OCD DIARIES

  32. Pingback: OCD Screening Quiz « THE OCD DIARIES

  33. Pingback: Songs to Help You Pick Up the Pieces « THE OCD DIARIES

  34. Pingback: The Joyless Happy Meal « THE OCD DIARIES

  35. Pingback: Me and My Wall | THE OCD DIARIES

  36. Pingback: Passing Insanity to Your Kids | THE OCD DIARIES

  37. Pingback: Thank You, Joy | THE OCD DIARIES

  38. Pingback: 43 Years Through The Minefield | THE OCD DIARIES

  39. Pingback: Surrender Does Not Mean Give Up | THE OCD DIARIES

  40. Pingback: A Sister’s Fall and Rise | THE OCD DIARIES

  41. Pingback: Sometimes, You Gotta Cut Ties | THE OCD DIARIES

  42. Pingback: Learning to Fight Well | THE OCD DIARIES

  43. Pingback: Lessons of a Thirty-something | THE OCD DIARIES

  44. Pingback: When Parents Fail | THE OCD DIARIES

  45. Pingback: Summers of Love and Hate | THE OCD DIARIES

  46. Pingback: Putting the Fun in Dysfunction | THE OCD DIARIES

  47. I resonated with a lot of this post. Honoring my parents means that I accept they did the best they could, but for my own mental health, I have limited contact with them. In the midst of my most painful depression, grief and anger with the repercussions of my parents’ behavior, I had no peace, no acceptance that I couldn’t change the past, so for me to be at peace on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day is an amazing transformation, but again, in order to take care of myself, I don’t put myself in the room with them.

  48. I once read a new year’s resolution that has helped me deal with my family dramas and issues. I pledge not to let the dysfunctional people in my like make my life dysfunctional”

    Whenever a family member’s drama starts dragging me down, or I get in an argument with my mother about the past I remember this resolution, someone else’s resolution, and I know I have the ability to rise above.

  49. It’s unfortunate that you have to deal with this on your own. It is also unfortunate that you happen to be married while “suffering” through this OCD problem. I say unfortunate, because, she will always be the scapegoat for the problems that remain between you and your family. I will have to agree with you that there is definitely a family trait of anger and a need to control, but you have to buckle yourself down and just say, you know ma, no more. You want to me in YOUR life, I’m right here and Billy, leave it right there. You are okay. You have no demons. You have done no wrongs, you’re a good father, you provide for your family and take pride in yourself and really….just move on. If you have faith, when you go to bed at night, in the silence of the night, say “Dear God, you say ask, I am asking, give me peace in my life. He will listen. And believe me, you will be free from all of this. God Bless.

    • You are absolutely right, and thanks for your note. You have always been a huge inspiration to me. I did hesitate about writing about this, but eventually decided that if the blog is to be my honest story of overcoming personal demons, I have to put it all out there. Thanks again for being such an inspiring force in my life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s