Tired of living

@brandysparks I have been on both sides of the fence. Grew up being abused in every way, and unloved. Even as a child I promised myself I would never treat my children (especially my daughters, as I came from a culture where girls were disposable), and I kept my promise. Because I felt so unvalued, I prayed for a girl each time I was pregnant; the first two of the three were daughters, the third being a son. I love all three equally with every fibre of my being, and always made sure they not only knew they were loved, but I told them that every day they were growing up.

However, there were some things about my mother that I unconsciously picked up. Like her, I subconsciously took out my frustrations in my marriage on to my kids - my two daughters especially, because they were older than my son - he came along six years after my middle daughter, by which time I had learned from my mistakes with them. The girls, however, have always claimed that I love my son more than them “because he is a boy” - so untrue, because I had always wanted girls to love and care for the way I never was! And I love my son equally because I know what it is like to be born the “wrong sex”. I never wanted sons, but the minute he was put in my arms after birth, it was love at first sight.

Like my mother, I was “trained” to “shut up and put up”. I knew I couldn’t do anything about my mother in law who caused a lot of damage to my husband’s and my relationship, and my husband’s lack of support against her, so unfortunately I took my frustrations out on my kids, yelling and screaming at them whenever I was angry with him and his mother - she was in our lives for thirty of our now forty three years of marriage. But they were never neglected, and I always made each child’s birthdays and Cheistmases special because I never had birthdays and other celebrations.

Anyway, in addition to that, being an East Indian raised in the environment I was raised in and married to a detached Scot, raising biracial kids was a challenge especially with little help from my husband. I felt like a single mother all the years they were growing up. Now that they are adults, he is their best friend. I had no role model to follow. None of my friends had kids at the time so no one to exchange parenting ideas - no internet either to look up information. The long and short of it is I caused my kids emotional damage despite loving them to bits and as I have said to them over and over again (though my eldest turns a deaf ear to it), if I could rewind the years from the day I got married till they were grown, I definitely would have raised them differently.

My eldest daughter has never forgiven me - won’t even let me apologize to her and walks out of the room any time I try to talk to her and try to apologize. It seems like she would rather hold on to the grudge. Middle daughter has accepted my apologies and we are close. Son also has accepted my apologies and forgiven me and we have a good relationship too. What hurts is the oldest daughter tries to create a divide between me and my middle daughter and son - draws them away from me any time I have the three of them over for any family occasion. Husband looks the other way - doesn’t see it as his problem.

@grammy82 Thank you, dear soul, once again.

I have read your post a few times now, and it's funny, so far I've misread it - but that may be because my misread (a version of a 'Freudian slip'?) is a clue to my unrewarding efforts: I read your phrasing of "Eventually, at least for me, I realized that I was always looking for someone to make me happy…" INSTEAD AS:
"...I realized I was always looking for someone to MAKE happy..."
[likely, at least, because my poor, loving, lonely and lovely mother never seemed happy, and my sister and I - esp. my sister at times, being a doctor, was made to feel she HAD to make Mom happy, and it generally never was enough].

So, I always want people to BE happy, get along (unlike how I experienced my parents' relationship), to enjoy things, find solace and/or peace in things, to find their own happiness. Yet, I can't seem to find mine: the ONLY thing I can identify that truly makes me happy is dancing - I've taught it, I've taken it, studied it when I was younger - but now I just want to DO it - but, the sinister catch is: it almost always takes TWO - and a dance partner I've never found - at least not for the long run. So, just recently I did find a place for line dancing (mostly to country tunes, but that's OK), and I did it with the group - as a participant for a change - for 2 hours...sweating bullets, but happy in the process, feeling like something close to freedom was within reach.
The only thing better is an impromptu Fred & Ginger style dance around the whole, open dance floor, which I've only done twice in my life - and the acquaintance/dance partner wasn't interested in doing it on a regular basis. This kind of dance is truly the closest I've come to pure joy and a feeling like flying. Even with line dancing, as a participant, with people watching, passing by, it's a reward to hear some who have genuinely commented "you go, girl!" - THAT is the happiness I sweat and try for - that communal feeling of joy, without divisiveness as an issue, free of judgment, fear or self-consciousness - and I always invite everyone to join in.
Wishing each their version of Fred & Ginger - whether it be as a couple together, or on a solitary path. If only it could be a regular, welcome experience, one that I wouldn't have to manufacture to enjoy!

@brandysparks I have been on both sides of the fence. Grew up being abused in every way, and unloved. Even as a child I promised myself I would never treat my children (especially my daughters, as I came from a culture where girls were disposable), and I kept my promise. Because I felt so unvalued, I prayed for a girl each time I was pregnant; the first two of the three were daughters, the third being a son. I love all three equally with every fibre of my being, and always made sure they not only knew they were loved, but I told them that every day they were growing up.

However, there were some things about my mother that I unconsciously picked up. Like her, I subconsciously took out my frustrations in my marriage on to my kids - my two daughters especially, because they were older than my son - he came along six years after my middle daughter, by which time I had learned from my mistakes with them. The girls, however, have always claimed that I love my son more than them “because he is a boy” - so untrue, because I had always wanted girls to love and care for the way I never was! And I love my son equally because I know what it is like to be born the “wrong sex”. I never wanted sons, but the minute he was put in my arms after birth, it was love at first sight.

Like my mother, I was “trained” to “shut up and put up”. I knew I couldn’t do anything about my mother in law who caused a lot of damage to my husband’s and my relationship, and my husband’s lack of support against her, so unfortunately I took my frustrations out on my kids, yelling and screaming at them whenever I was angry with him and his mother - she was in our lives for thirty of our now forty three years of marriage. But they were never neglected, and I always made each child’s birthdays and Cheistmases special because I never had birthdays and other celebrations.

Anyway, in addition to that, being an East Indian raised in the environment I was raised in and married to a detached Scot, raising biracial kids was a challenge especially with little help from my husband. I felt like a single mother all the years they were growing up. Now that they are adults, he is their best friend. I had no role model to follow. None of my friends had kids at the time so no one to exchange parenting ideas - no internet either to look up information. The long and short of it is I caused my kids emotional damage despite loving them to bits and as I have said to them over and over again (though my eldest turns a deaf ear to it), if I could rewind the years from the day I got married till they were grown, I definitely would have raised them differently.

My eldest daughter has never forgiven me - won’t even let me apologize to her and walks out of the room any time I try to talk to her and try to apologize. It seems like she would rather hold on to the grudge. Middle daughter has accepted my apologies and we are close. Son also has accepted my apologies and forgiven me and we have a good relationship too. What hurts is the oldest daughter tries to create a divide between me and my middle daughter and son - draws them away from me any time I have the three of them over for any family occasion. Husband looks the other way - doesn’t see it as his problem.

Hi😊Hope you are doing good… Sorry… your “mother” was a awful person and must have not only abused you. My mom did some off-base things too but nothing to compare at all. Sounds like she was intimidated by you dear one. Not in CA any way to excuse or condone her sick, unmotherly behavior, but wonder what she came out of?… You know, it has been discovered now that genetic memory from our ancestors is passed down…🤔Anyway, if she had been raised by mentally/emotionally healthy people, maybe she would have been a lot better of a mother that you deserved. Sending a big 🤗 hug.

I have lived in 5+ major cities, so have had access to a variety of care, even though I approached it quite cautiously, wanting to find a trustworthy source, as well as complete confidentiality, esp. in the early days when it wasn't a given, let alone mentioned that you could hope to not have an impact at your company for availing yourself of the limited "mental health benefits". But I never approached the possibility of a good or helpful fit until my last psychiatrist who listened to me over a period of 20 years, with some breaks.

And yet she seemed to withhold anything that ever provided the hope of a "breakthrough" - again, it must be ME that is the barrier. I asked for some examples, some similar case studies to try to find how others have encountered similar struggles, MAYBE even surpassed them - "they don't exist" - "they would be different circumstances / facts / blah blah blah". Surely, I said, there must have been some you studied in graduate / medical school. No.

I'm in no way blaming her, but I did literally blast out of the room one final time when, in response to my sharing a rare memory of my mother being - if not supportive - at least neutral, she referred to my mother as "letting" me live (or, in so many words, letting me have my pleasant shared experience without her dumping on it, something like that). I still am not sure, but that concept, coming from my therapist in words, audibly - and not even being endorsed in any way by my therapist - so enraged my very being that I couldn't tolerate it or any more of our otherwise neutral dynamic. On top of it, after all this time - and I'd shared this with her - I had enough of not getting anywhere.

That was 3-1/2 years ago, just before COVID, just before a traumatic living circumstance brought on an abrupt move, that ultimately led me to living in a smaller town about 80 min. away that some distant family we would visit (when I was a teen) once lived in...without telling my mother about it, another struggle that wears on me, but that I have weighed and weighed again and again, and never feel I can share with her, as she will dump on it, likely deem it is about her - NO, I just want to live in a small town that seems pleasant and less crime-ridden, and may one day enable me somehow to blossom into ... myself?

I apologize for the amount of space my posts have taken up here today. But I am overwhelmed with rage, angst, lack of resolution, lack of cheer, lack of purpose and tired of being all about "others" and handling what I can, and doing ALL with a partner that - when I can no longer stand it - doesn't respond to my observations, even the littlest, inconsequential, daily life comings and goings comments, and makes me feel like I either don't exist and/or that my recent ER visit for unusual, unexpected head pain, and other non-life-threatening issues are overblown. I am sick of making things happen, feeling unheard, and being in pain. Not being heard only magnifies the pain, and then makes me feel responsible for it, and ultimately feeling isolated from the connection I have so longed for all my life, but that is that neverending black hole from our childhood.

We think my mother was mentally ill. My grandmother and aunt were fine. I have a brother and a sister. I am the eldest so got the worst of it. In the end we all left home as soon as we could. My grandmother had a hard life. She was left as a young widow with three children to raise. I loved her. She was never like this. I think my aunt realized something of what was going on because she tried to protect my mother (her sister). At any rate, they are all gone now. Some scars remain and may forever. I am trying to accept myself for who I am and work with it.
Sending that hug back to you with many thanks.

We make choices.
Making no choice is a choice, in this case, life makes your choice.
We have: "Freedom of Will." We can make choice that will effect our lives! It is difficult to change a a trait, or something about ourselves that we don't like, but we have that ability if we Choose to exercise that option.
Choose not only to live, but add some meaning to you life, find something to look forward to, to hope for, and to like to do! The death of your husband wasn't the end of the world or you life, unless that is what you wish for, or to be sorry for yourself for. IS that what he would have wanted for you? Is that how you honor him?
Make a better choice.

in reply to @spudmato You are correct that we make choices in our lives, and that we can choose whether or not to change something about ourselves that we may not particularly like. Many are unable to find meaning in their lives, perhaps because they are feeling hopeless, helpless or some other similar feeling. Some things are easier said than done.
I make it a point each day to exercise gratitude, even if I don't feel well, because I know that many today are not feeling great, or are feeling worse than I am. I try to occupy myself with things that bring me joy, such as art, music and now woodworking. I have just up -cycled 2 wooden pallets into tables for my patio. While many in my community continue to shun me because I have lost so much weight, I am sure they do not miss the fact that I have been lifting weights each day, as my arms look quite muscular. I lift the weights because I do not want to lose muscle mass, and my perseverance has paid off. While I was outside working yesterday, I said aloud: "I can do anything, and I will." This is not to say that everyday is a 10 for me, as there are many days when I just want to do nothing, and today feels like one of those days. Probably because my symptoms are worsening, and sometimes I fail to "see the forest through the trees." I am working on this, but cannot ignore the fact that I feel a bit weaker each day, have more pain each day and things of that nature. While I have discussed with my friend and former doctor that I want to take a break from all things medical, she is trying to encourage me to keep up with my appointments, even at great financial and emotional cost. I read an article on NORD that it takes on average 5 years to diagnose certain liver conditions/diseases. I am in year 3 and my medical team is no closer to knowing what is wrong with me than they were when I was first diagnosed.
In any event, I am fortunate to have things to look forward to, however small they may be at times. Everything around me is beautiful: my garden, my artwork, my wood projects, the roof over my head. I just received a walker I ordered so that I can help my 84 year old friend with her walking. She refused to use a walker unless I used one as well. I don't need one, but if this helps her, then I will use the walker with her. Others may look at me and think I am reaching the end, but they can think what they want. I simply want my dear friend to be able to walk around the community like she used to, and if using the walker alongside her works, then all is good.
With respect to feeling sorry for oneself, I think it is okay to have compassion for oneself. I am only just now learning how to do this, as I have always put the needs of others ahead of my own.
Thank you for your post.

in reply to @spudmato You are correct that we make choices in our lives, and that we can choose whether or not to change something about ourselves that we may not particularly like. Many are unable to find meaning in their lives, perhaps because they are feeling hopeless, helpless or some other similar feeling. Some things are easier said than done.
I make it a point each day to exercise gratitude, even if I don't feel well, because I know that many today are not feeling great, or are feeling worse than I am. I try to occupy myself with things that bring me joy, such as art, music and now woodworking. I have just up -cycled 2 wooden pallets into tables for my patio. While many in my community continue to shun me because I have lost so much weight, I am sure they do not miss the fact that I have been lifting weights each day, as my arms look quite muscular. I lift the weights because I do not want to lose muscle mass, and my perseverance has paid off. While I was outside working yesterday, I said aloud: "I can do anything, and I will." This is not to say that everyday is a 10 for me, as there are many days when I just want to do nothing, and today feels like one of those days. Probably because my symptoms are worsening, and sometimes I fail to "see the forest through the trees." I am working on this, but cannot ignore the fact that I feel a bit weaker each day, have more pain each day and things of that nature. While I have discussed with my friend and former doctor that I want to take a break from all things medical, she is trying to encourage me to keep up with my appointments, even at great financial and emotional cost. I read an article on NORD that it takes on average 5 years to diagnose certain liver conditions/diseases. I am in year 3 and my medical team is no closer to knowing what is wrong with me than they were when I was first diagnosed.
In any event, I am fortunate to have things to look forward to, however small they may be at times. Everything around me is beautiful: my garden, my artwork, my wood projects, the roof over my head. I just received a walker I ordered so that I can help my 84 year old friend with her walking. She refused to use a walker unless I used one as well. I don't need one, but if this helps her, then I will use the walker with her. Others may look at me and think I am reaching the end, but they can think what they want. I simply want my dear friend to be able to walk around the community like she used to, and if using the walker alongside her works, then all is good.
With respect to feeling sorry for oneself, I think it is okay to have compassion for oneself. I am only just now learning how to do this, as I have always put the needs of others ahead of my own.
Thank you for your post.