My Authentic Mother (Part 2)

     "You know I've never asked for anything before, but I've never felt this bad.  I need you to come here", my mother said.  She called me at seven o'clock this morning.  I told her, "I know you've never asked for anything before, and I understand how bad you feel.  I'm so sorry.  I understand.  I wish I could help you. I will do everything I can do to help you."

    Yet I was thinking as I tried to comfort her: "I can't count the times that I've needed you, that I needed your comfort, that I hoped that you would say, 'I understand how bad you feel, and I love you'.  You were never there for me.  You pretended I didn't exist.  You couldn't cope with an imperfect unhappy daughter.  You abruptly ended phone conversations when I even hinted that things might not be fine. You left me alone to fend for myself, and I did."

    I am angry at my mother.  Yet, I cannot abandon her.  I want to help her.  I want to be with her.  I want her to know I love her.

                                          My Mother and Me (circa 1951)

    But I wish she could apologize.  When she was hospitalized in February, I went up to Yonkers to be with her.  She was clearly comforted by my presence.  During the course of a mundane conversation we were having, she suddenly said, "I wasn't a terrible mommy, was I"?  I wanted to say, "You were a horrible mother, but I know you did the best you could do."  Of course, I replied, "You were a wonderful mother, and I love you".  And I meant it.

Anger

                                        Anger Managed, by Jason Nuttall





Most people who have entered into any type of psychodynamic therapy have probably been told that suppressing anger is a surefire way to induce depression. Why is it then, that it is so difficult to unload our anger at the appropriate time in an appropriate manner toward the actual source of our anger? I am still stewing over some month-old anger. I discussed this particular thunder cloud of anger in a previous post.  Now that I think of it, my ambivalence has fueled my anger in that case.  I've been trying not to misplace my anger.  As you probably know, if you have read this far, this is extremely hard to do.  I'm not depressed at the moment, but thinking about my rage and discussing it in analysis is certainly taking up a lot of my time.