I want to do a somewhat random post today. All of this is emotionally difficult to write (as I’ve said repeatedly) and I can rarely do more than a few paragraphs at once. Some of the family anger and resentment comes back to me, even if I’m only thinking about it. We’ve all been emotionally trained to never even THINK something bad about Brigid, lest hellfire rain down upon us and I’m sure a bit of that sense still lingers. This is tough but therapeutic.
I don’t like ranting and just recounting the crazy and abusive things I’ve experienced and seen from Brigid. I prefer to think of specific things and tie it into a larger picture. I intend to that in this post and speak of perceptions that Brigid and other members of our family have, but this post is moderately ranty anyway.
I want to describe a mother I’ve heard about. I’ll call her P
She used to scream and yell at hear kids all the time. She’d emotionally torment them. She’d stay at home while they were at school and brood. She’d smoke, watch soap operas and maybe run a few errands but she’d brood. She was always going over the problems she had with others in very very intense ways. It’s what P would think about when she woke up in the morning and she’d continue obsessing all day.
Maybe her husband had said something to her, that indicated her kids had complained to him. This made her angry. They were trying to get between them, she’d decide. Maybe one had problems in school and wasn’t performing well. Maybe one hadn’t done their chores correctly. She’d brood and brood all day. Then they’d come home. Her anxiety would go up just as soon as they came in the door. They’d have so much weird stuff to say and all of the things about them that bothered her would come to mind and make her angry. After spending all day brooding, literally everything they did was bothering her. One tried talking to her and she couldn’t stand it. Didn’t they have something better to do? They should be better kids; better students or better athletes. Eating her food. They were basically ungrateful parasites and disappointments.
All of this stuff was bothering her but she had to find a reason to really go at one of them. She’d really been thinking of her daughter’s willfullness. She was so stubborn. So P decided to walk upstairs and go to her room. It was locked but P had brought her screwdriver to pop it open. There she stood in the door, looking around at all the things she didn’t like. Then she tore into her
“I need to talk to you about a few things” she’d say, in the kind of voice you might see on T.V., when the police detective had just discovered his partner was taking bribes. It started with a low, serious, soloum tone and then she opened up witih her anger and rage. Her daughter would say she’d do better at school but that wasn’t enough. Next it was her weight and how she knew she was eating more than she should. P thought about the little fight she got into with dad the night before. He’d “felt sorry” for his daughter. “Oh boo, hoo” P thought. That brat
15 minutes. 20 minutes. Her glances of disgust, then turning her head to the side with shakes, as if to say she didn’t know what was to be done about this mess. She let her use the car but may have to rethink that.
After berating her for a good hour, her daughter began to cry and P would try to hide a grin. “Shows her right.
,” she thought. Maybe she’ll think twice before complaining to dad or telling him something that might bother him. Her daughter’s tears only wet her appetite for more. She continued until she was a sobbing mess
OK. So I’m obviously talking about Brigid but wanted to give some distance. If a mother like that was described to someone in our family, they would agree that this was a sick, manipulative and abusive mother. There’d be no question. In fact, my eldest sister could describe the layers of abuse at work in this theoretical scenario. (She studied psychology) If this was a cousin or friend of ours, tears would probably follow. Indeed, Brigid herself would likely act shocked and horrified to hear about a mother treating her kids that way. If she became aware of someone treating their kids like that, it’s very possible that she would do something big and dramatic. Huge amounts of gossip and feuding would certainly follow.
What I have described was a very, very common occurrence in our home. Something closely approximating that very scenario played itself out more times than I could estimate (certainly in the hundreds of times)
I can’t say for absolute certain how Brigid thinks back on those events but I can say for *almost* certain.
The unhinged, crazy, angry emotional predator doesn’t think they are unhinged, crazy or emotionally predatory. They see themselves as victims. The crazy guy on the street corner who shakes his fist at everyone and yells at them thinks they all deserve it. When they avoid him, he tells himself that they are scared of him because he is intimidating and they cannot handle the truths he directs at them. The person who slams their horn in traffic believes they are stronger than the people who wait patiently. They think they are more “raw” and “intense” I’ve talked to enough of these people to understand how their minds work.
When our childhood is called to mind, what Brigid thinks of is “all that she had to deal with,” the phrase we’ve heard over and over and over. Every personality quirk of ours, every problem, every thing she had to do. That is what she thinks of. Every fight that broke out between her kids or with her, is remembered as yet another trial and hardship The fact that she started those fights doesn’t occur to her. The fact that she had 4 healthy children who were desperately seeking her affection and approval, and who behaved very well for others doesn’t get factored in. She had “so much to deal with” It is such an absurd axiom in our home. The cult of poor Brigid.
Brigid’s late brother was exactly the same way. Positing themselves as heros and victims in all circumstances is a starting point of everything. Every feud they engaged in was obviously merited
When Brigid did things like walk up to the alter and chastise a priest during mass for not mentioning her son’s name as she thought he should have, or of screaming at her father-in-law in her own home, over a religious dispute that she started out of nowhere, she thinks of strength. She was “strong” and “determined” enough to do that. The wild inappropriateness of her behavior doesn’t compute, nor does how others may be responding to her insanity. Like the crazy fist-shaker on the corner who watches people walk out of their way to avoid him, so Brigid believes that those who take issue with her outbursts are just weak.. Brigid can understand the crazy person throwing fits as crazy but cannot see herself that way. The fact that she caused these disputes doesn’t register. She is unable to imagine how her kids were absorbing this rage and responding to her. She cannot conceive of how she victimized her children.
Didn’t her daughter eat more than she should have? Well……..OK, maybe she shouldn’t have been *quite* that mean about it but whatever. “GEEEEEET over it,” because Brigid is a “GOOD OLE IOWA GIRL!”, never minding that she gets over absolutely nothing and hordes grievances against people like it’s her reason for living.
“Maybe” she’ll say to herself “I shouldn’t have yelled THAT loud,” but what was she supposed to do? Should she have allowed the priest to continue mass without mentioning her son’s name in the rundown of that weeks events that few were even paying attention to? What option did she have? She certainly wasn’t going to be one of those wimps in the pews who’d just sit there and take such a monsterous personal insult as that! She is strong. She is Mombo. She is the goodoleIowagirl. Should she not have called the grocery store and complained about a swear word she heard from an employee when they were talking? Should she not have blasted away at this or that person? When her brother was behaving in ways she didn’t like 1,200 miles away, was she supposed to NOT spend hours on the phone, gossiping and complaining to everyong and freaking out over everything?
Let me share another story from about 10 years ago. My parents and I were having another one of our fights. Me vs. The United Front. The conversations I have had with both parents at once have been almost invariably awful, all throughout my life. In this one, I brought up my belief that I didn’t think we ever had a healthy parent/child relationship. Brigid discussed my senior year in high school, where I’d done well and won a bunch of awards. “What about high school of those awards you won?” she asked “We were so proud of you” she said, in a very particular way that she’ll say such things, with a scrunched face, tragically looking off into the distance and tears.
According to Brigid, we had a good parent/child relationship because I was doing enough to make HER happy. That is how she sees everything. I was doing enough to make HER happy. The idea of the parent (her) being the primary driver of health or illness in a parent/child relationship never crossed her mind and hasn’t to this day. The idea that she had a primary hand in the problems we had at the time? ha! GEEEEET OVER it, says the GOOD OLD IOWu girl. Assessing herself and how her behavior was effecting her kids and grading herself on that scale? Not a chance. Her mind does not work that way. The wiring isn’t there. We had a good relationship for awhile because I was making her proud
You certainly wouldn’t have known that at the time. She fought with me relentlessly. When I started developing a muscular physique, she one time came down to the basement as I was doing pushups and yelled/cried at how upset she was that I was getting strong “I don’t LIKE IT!’ she exclaimed. Life with Brigid is a regular flow of such mind blowing neurotic moments. In her incessant push to keep me and my dad at odds, she’d drive my car the few times he put gas in it. His doing kind things really bothered her and she’d let me know it. There was still 0 help with homework and no involvement in school. When I was doing well and winning awards, she once ordered me into the kitchen and said (paraphrasing but almost exact)
“You know, I know you’re feeling really great about all those awards you won but your dad and I deserve lots of credit for that. I hope you realize that and don’t get too big of a head”
She was bothered by my increased self esteem and sense of accomplishment. That bothered her.
As was the case throughout the rest of my childhood, pleasant, encouraging interaction with Mombo was 0 then. Life with her during my later high school years was hostile, feuding nutcase city. I ran cross country and was average but one time….somebody told her they thought I ran like a deer.
“We finally found something you do well” she told me. “We’ had found something. This, coming from someone with no athletic prowess at all. She told me that while growing up, she thought she’d have “Two kids and they’d be smart jocks” The B/C high school student who barely made it through nursing school and was never good at sports was entitled to smart jock kids and apparently, we needed to understand what a disappointment we were to her.
These are only a few of the examples of the level 10 insanity that defined my relationship with her during my later high school years but we supposedly had a good relationship because I was making her happy. This is how Brigid sees every relationship in her life. What are they doing for her? Her “favorite” kid would change based upon who was accomplishing the most and the others would be made to feel envious.
I was able to accomplish things IN SPITE of her. I was accomplishing things because I’d made friends and had a romantic relationships with a girl at camp. I had found a few people who LIKED ME and who VALUED ME. This filled me with a great (if very chaotic and unwieldy) sense of self and that translated into performance. My Freshman year in high school, I was taking remedial classes. Below average classes and getting B,C’s and even a D or two. By my senior year, I was taking almost entirely honor’s level classes and getting almost straight A’s. I missed High Honors once, only because of an inexplicable C I got in accounting (and my teacher never bothered explaining it to me)
During this period, her parenting advice to others went into absolute overdrive. She was the mother of the century. I heard the term “wonderful mother” incessantly. Her kid (me) had won a bunch of awards in Junior Achievement and did well in school. She apparently decided that she was now an aristocrat. I once saw her walk up to the mother of my classmate in church and comment that she was mildly jealous because her kids made the paper more often that we did. It was said in a chummy sort of way, as though they were peers; trading nods at what it’s like to have superior kids. The woman I’m referring to has 4 children, 3 of whom went to Harvard and the 4th to UNC on a track scholarship. All 4 were state champion athletes and the 4th was a national champion. They all graduated at or near the top of their classes. There should be a photo of Brigid next to “Uppity” in the dictionary. It’s only with age and distance that I’m able to see what an obnoxious, neurotic and embarrassing person she is. That was my “normal” growing up. That was the adult in my life, setting the example.
What I have described is obviously a narcissistic sociopath and emotionally abusive mother. OBVIOUSLY. This is another “water is wet” argument but that is not how Brigid sees herself. Narcissistic sociopaths think they’re fantastic. Brigid doesn’t care how she effects others. That’s a strong statement to make but it’s the absolute truth. Worse than that, she enjoyed emotionally smashing her kids. I witnessed enough of her chuckling after we’d break down in tears from her beratement to call that a safe conclusion. She got a charge from emotinoally breaking her children. To the degree that she cared about hurting her children, she liked it.
If a divine and all knowing presence were to come to her and say
“Brigid, you have been an horrific mother to your children. You have behaved in perverse and unnatural ways toward your own offspring. They have suffered far worse from you than you have ever suffered from them. You should be ashamed and beg their forgiveness”
She wouldn’t care. She’d only care if this divine and all knowing presence was going to let anyone else in on that knowledge. Despite her endless raging and abuse; her making up horrible stories about her kids and telling them to others because she was pissed, endless chastising. complete lack of anything motherly, not even looking after her 5 year old kid….letting me wander around and get watched after by creeps and all of the other insanity she subjected us to……she would not care. I have never once seen her express remorse. I’ve seen her often bothered by getting caught but never sadness that she had caused harm.
Despite all of her insanity and harm, I can only recall her apologizing to anyone once……I’ve described this incident elsewhere, where she was shouting at me for something that I absolutely didn’t do and was able to prove that I absolutely didn’t do. She grudingly apologized and then took my car from me the next day over something ridiculously trivial, then told me “and you made ME apologize yesterday”
Brigid doesn’t apologize. She’s that type. She’s a GOOD OLEEEE IOWA girl and apparently, good oleiwu girls don’t apologize when they mess up. Everyone else is supposed to GEEET over it. Grudges, anger and the like and hers and hers alone.
Brigid and D both require a “clique” of people around them who are emotionally subjugated to their insanity. The roll my grandmother played in the life of D is exactly the same as my siblings and dad play in Brigid’s life. It’s essentially identical. Even if they don’t join in with her insane feuding, they try to be as sympathetic and “on her side” as possible. She was and is an epic failure as a mother and horribly abusive to her children but……OBVIOUSLY. As I’ve said before, a professional psychologist would come to essentially the same conclusions I have, but her family excuses her. She is held to almost no standards of behavior. My sibblings trip over themselves to be sympathetic to her. I still feel that impulse. It’s very difficult for me to step back and look objectively at how she has behaved throughout my life because the impulse is very strong to forgive and forgive, or at least see all that she has done within the context of something good. “She does her best” is the phrase her kids most often use. When consideering her behavior during our childhood, terms like “She was just really busy” and such are common.
It’s an objectively absurd and enabling/victim type of thinking. Brigid wasn’t so busy that she couldn’t spend hours per week fighting with her kids and many hours more gossiping and feuding elsewhere. She didn’t like her kids. That was the problem. She hated being a mother and blamed her children. She felt “trapped” with the responsibilities of raising her kids and she wasn’t even able to face that reality head on. A cult of personality was necessary to compensate for her failure. She wasn’t bad. She wasn’t even average……….no, she was a superior mother and we all must subscribe to the cult or face the consequences. Despite being told how horrible we were and everything was, there was never any family therapy because Brigid knew darn well that a therapist would see her as the problem. She didn’t care if she was the problem.
And she didn’t “do her best” unless “her best” is synonmous with “whatever she felt and feels like”
Like those around her late brother, the slightest examples of good and decency by Brigid are made to seem AMAZING.
She has brutalized everyone into dealing with her that way and this is the biggest root of disfunction in our family. Nobody is allowed to come to terms with how abused they were and only one of us have shown any ability to thrive outside the toxic greenhouse of our youth. The atmosphere of our family necessitates that Brigid be seen as the hero and victim, who’s approval is the greatest thing one can hope for. Stepping outside of that paradigm means stepping outside of the familiy.
momboandme 