And by the flippant way you toss the word "forgiveness" around, I'd say you haven't had much experience with it. Forgiving someone isn't as simple as flipping a light switch, you know
Pondscum wrote:And when does she get around to "forgiving" ME? Never! She will hold this over my head forever, she isn't about to let it go--her way of staying in control is in trying to drown people (ME!) in guilt. It's very effective too, as she well knows, altho she'd rather hold onto that whip than see me get better. Not that she has a clue about any of this, she doesn't want to understand just what she's doing--it's much easier blaming it all on me.
And by the flippant way you toss the word "forgiveness" around, I'd say you haven't had much experience with it. Forgiving someone isn't as simple as flipping a light switch, you know.
Pondscum wrote:She's a whiney cow who blames every problem she's ever had in her life on me and I am SICK of it. She and my dad were perfectly happy being married nearly 10 years (without kids) before they had me. Yeah, lucky me, being an "only child".
They made it more than clear that their lives were perfect before I was born. (So why did they chose to have a child? Because everybody else in the 1950's was doing it??? )
Every time I suggest to my mother that she and my dad would have been better off not having me, somehow she twists it into an insult: "Oh, I know you think I'm a terrible mother and all your problems are my fault!" I never said that but there's no convincing her, because she's bloody well determined to be a martyr. My dad was the same way--any time I ever dared disagree with him about anything, he always said the same tired old thing: "Oh, I know, you think I'm just an old fool!" (Which I had never said--or even thought--but it made no difference. There was no talking him out of that delusion.) If anyone made my life miserable, it was the other kids at school who teased me relentlessly--but that doesn't figure my parents into the equation, so they block that out--all they ever wanted to hear was that I was blaming THEM for all my problems.
I think they were the nuts in the house, not me, even tho I'm the one who ended up with all the labels. That way they could feel good about themselves--all their problems were the fault of their wicked daughter. They never made any mistakes. They did everything right. But I, through my own free evil will, chose to make them suffer. Martyrdom must be sweet.
I'm sick to death of my mom sniffling and whining and complaining about how I have nearly driven her to suicide--yeah, she's actually said that. Never mind that I have actually attempted suicide in the past, and not for the fun of it. But there you have it--once again, I did it just to make them suffer needlessly. I am soooo evil. And they are such long-suffering saints. Well, not my father anymore, he died and I'm sure he's now happy in heaven--IF he is capable of being happy anywhere. (Even if I'm not there to ruin things for him.)
My mom will be 84 in June so maybe before long she'll be happy in heaven too. Lucky them, I'll never show up there to ruin Paradise for them. I've known since childhood I was going to hell. Where else do evil people like me end up? Of course they forced me to attend their Fundamentalist church where I was assured each and every Sunday that ppl like me had no hope of heaven. That was a lot of fun---esp. for a child. Not that they cared, they hoped it would scare me into being the perfect daughter they wanted and expected. Of course all it actually did was make me walk out of church at 16 and never go back. I'm funny that way, I don't enjoy hearing the torments awaiting me described in lurid detail week after week. Living with two sadly reproachful saints every day was hard enough.
I wish my mom had had an abortion. We'd both be better off dead.