Sandra

Thank you! I know my English is quite good but that's where my bloody perfectionism kicks in and makes me think I should groom my English so that it becomes comparable to that of a native speaker. My sister has the same opinion about our mother. We talk frequently about our childhood and that helps a great deal to figure things out. Especially if one of us can't remember some incident the other will recall it. It's like having a witness of a crime (which it actually was). I will read myself through Cheryl's posts, possibly I will find some food for thought, thanks!

Hi Cheryl, as being a child I could not quite process that my grandmother (father's side) was also a mother. In my eyes she was just grandma and nothing else. Maybe deep down I thought I deserved a better mother/treatment, but back then, I thought it was the course of nature that mothers are bad people. Even some loving mothers from our friends I could not quite regard as mothers, but just as very kind women. The term 'motherly love' still gives me really akward feelings as I have obviously never experienced this essential form of love.

Hello everyone, I have trouble sorting some feelings out... Here is a bit of background to it: I was a maltreated child with a very abusive mother. I was hit on a daily basis including slaps in the face, hair ripping, pushing and other random physical attacks. On top of that there was massive verbal abuse being called animal names and piece of s**t, humiliation and intimidation. My mother died of cancer when I was 12. Her cancer started round about 5 years prior. In these 5 years she was in and out of hospital for a few times. Of course towards the end more and more frequently. In these 5 years I cannot recall any feeling of concern for her and her condition. Even when it was clear that she would eventually die in the foreseeable future it did not bother me. I was never worried about her. Once she was admitted to hospital and for the meantime my grandmother was looking after me and my twin sister, while our dad was at work. For me this was a dream come true, with my mother safely away in hospital and our beloved grandma to stay with us for the time being. Our mum was planned to stay in hospital for about two weeks. So the day our mum was planned to go into hospital our gradma was picked up from the train station and after that our dad brought our mother to the hospital. We stayed home with gran and had dinner. Then our dad came back and brought our mother back with him. They had an argument with the doctor at the hospital or something so that they decided to prospone her stay at the hospital to a later point of time. I remember my sister and me starting to cry in horror when we saw her back at home. After she eventually died our form teacher had our entire class write us a letter each with condolencies. I couldn't quite understand why everyone was so full of compassion for us and I felt a wee bit ashamed, as I couln't process why anyone should feel sorry for us for losing our mother. I always had the conception that mothers in general are mean and evil. I remember very far back into my childhood until round about just under two years. But in all that time I cannot remember me seeking comfort from my mother or the desire to be nurtured by her or wanting her closeness. Despite knowing that even abused children try to seek their mother's nurturing (which seems to me absolutely uncomprehensible). Obviously I had "given up" on her at such an early age that I am not able to remember, or at least that is the explanation that I have for it, but I am still very confused about it and also still a bit ashamed. Could it be that children feel indifferent towards a parent instead of trying to be loved? Especially at that young age? Can they be so rational to figure out that there a no more fish in the pond over their utter dependence to be cared for? Does anyone have similar experiences? What are your thoughts on it? Sorry it's become a bit lengthy. Appreciate your reading. Hope my English is understandable..am not a native speaker. Sandra