My sociopathic alcoholic mother died.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Cut for length.

Last weekend I was working my cashiering job at the hardware store. I had just sold 80 pounds of concrete to a customer when I saw my dad in line. I thought he was coming through to say hi and get a discount. “You need to go out the back?” My manager asked.
“Yeah, this customer just ordered some concrete so he needs to swing 'round back to get loaded up.”
“No, ***you ***need to go out back?”
I was confused. I looked at my dad.
“We need to go.”
“What?” getting more confused here.
“We need to go now.” The quiet, urgent tone wasn’t his usual. Something was wrong. I closed up my register and swung around to the other side.
“Your mom’s gone.”

It took me a moment to register, to hit. For those who have read the threads I’ve written about her, I never had a good relationship with my mom. She was a sociopathic alcoholic who over the years grew to put her own needs and wants over her children as her drinking increased. I tried to see her as little as possible. I literally got sick from her house (mold, nicotine/tobacco gave me sinus infection) and just being around her…hurt emotionally as well with all the bad memories, her lack of apologies, her off-the-wall rationalizations. I still hurt.

I knew it was going to happen soon. She had been in the hospital twice since the beginning of the year. Her years of chain smoking, anorexia, and alcoholism finally caught up with her. When you drink so much that the alcohol has worn away your esophagus creating a hole, you know it’s bad. When you retain 3 liters of fluid, you know it’s bad.

I’ve watched her slowly kill herself for over thirteen years.

We begged her to get help. Stay at the hospital, get therapy, sober up. I never knew a sober mother. She was never sober these past 14 years. The only time I could say I knew she was technically sober was during her week stint in the hospital, but she quickly refused the withdrawal medication as it made her drowsy. She stayed the shortest amount of time possible to return home to drink. For years she had just been just a lump on the couch, watching television and drinking until her frail body could no longer take the abuse.

I had mourned the loss of a mother for thirteen years so I thought I was prepared to mourn her inevitable early death. I was wrong. It has been a mixture of relief -in knowing that she can no longer hurt us or herself- with immense sadness and pain. It was hard to see the look of pure agony on my brother as the realization set in when he was told. My poor sister is studying abroad in Europe.

I think worse of all is that I don’t know why I’m mourning. She was not a good person. She was not a good mother. I don’t know what could be chalked up to her alcoholism and what was just part of her character- to me, they’re so intertwined that I could never tell. She was stubborn and hurt everyone. So many chances to get sober that she passed up. She gave up the opportunity to live a good life, have relationships, watch her children grow into great individuals for piss-water beer.
I wish I could say that I loved her. I mumbled it out of obligation after every meeting. But I didn’t know what there truly was to love. I know she loved me. She held on to that title of “mother” while putting in the least effort humanly possible. I wish I could say that I have a lot of good memories of her but there are more fingers on my one hand than I have happy memories. Is it possible to learn to love her after she’s gone? Is it possible to learn to forgive her- is there even a point to?

And yet…it feels weird knowing that I’ll never see her again. I can hear the prosidy of her voice as she would leave the same message of “Hi [niko] it’s your mother…” on my voicemail or “Silvia, get down!” to her dog that greeted us outside. I can feel her bony, frail body still hugging me goodbye. My last sight of her was her refusing medication and therapy at the hospital, barely conscious and falling asleep sitting up with her hand still stuck in her hair as she tried to get her tangles out. It was that night that my fairy tale-like hope of her ever being sober was finally killed off for good and I knew it was just a waiting game for her to die. I gave her a kiss goodbye and went off to cry in a random bathroom stall for what felt like a lifetime. She was 49.

I’m 27 but I feel like a kid. I’ve been signing documents, paying for arrangements. I picked up her ashes. I’m trying to clean out her items from the house (she was a hoarder so I’ve barely made a dent.) It all still feels surreal. I was planning to get therapy to deal with what happened in the past in order to help myself become a better therapist and I feel like the death has added a whole new confusing layer to it.

Sorry for the long post. I thought maybe some people would be interested in knowing what happened to the mom I used to rant about too often or perhaps offer their similar experiences so I don’t feel like such a giant douche for not knowing how to feel.

It just hurts a lot more than I expected it to.

2

So sorry to hear. I’ve been through something similar when my own mother died. Thought I’d already sealed myself off from her, so it wouldn’t hurt, but it did. Go get that therapy, it’s the smart move.

I also lost a sibling to suicide, so I can almost taste that sense of relief that the suffering has ended, you mention. Grab onto that I say. I finally just let myself feel it fully, without guilt or shame, and it helped. It led me to admit that I didn’t know what wars they waged, but I could feel compassion for the obvious suffering they went through. It seemed almost like once I let go of knowing the nature of the war inside them, it led me away from needing to judge if it was worth never knowing me or my siblings, really. If you admit you don’t know, how can you judge?

I wish you nothing but the best luck, you write very well. Thank you for sharing you story!

3

{{nikonikosuru }} Toxic parents are… hard. There is no way around it. :frowning:

4

All I can think to say is I’m sorry for your loss. It’s ok to mourn. She was your mother however little it felt so much of the time that she was your mother. She, you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. I wish you peace. And for what it’s worth here’s a hug. {{{ }}}

5

I’m not quite sure what to say, other than this … may you find peace in the days to come as you wrestle with the conflicting emotions you are dealing with now. My father is not nearly as “bad” as that, but I know I, too, will be conflicted when he does.

6

Good, bad or drunk she was your mom. That’s a special relationship. She may not have been a pleasant part of your life, but she was a huge one. And now she’s gone. It’s OK to both be angry at her AND be sad at her passing. How you feel is how you feel, it’s neither right nor wrong it just is.

I’m sorry you’re going through this, but time will help. Please feel free to come back here and vent if you need to do so.

7

I don’t generally respond to posts as I prefer to lurk and learn, but your post really resonated with me and touched me deeply. I went through a similar experience with my father. He was also an alcoholic as well as a psychopath and an abuser. I made the conscious decision many years ago to stop seeking his love and attention, understanding that I would never have it and also knowing there was no way for me to help him. Just over two years ago, I got a call from my SO telling me my sister had called to say our father was in the hospital after suffering a massive heart attack and that, if I wanted to see him before he died, I’d better get there quick. Again, I made the conscious decision not to go. What would it benefit him? What would it benefit me? But when I received the call that he had died, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not having gone to the hospital to see him one last time. I’ve since worked through that, but my point in telling you this is, although I can’t completely understand how you feel, because everyone feels differently in these situations, I can kinda empathise with you. And I sooooooooo DO!

I am so very sorry for your loss. Both times. Because you lost your mother twice, really. And it damn well hurts. And there is no shame in that. Feel what you need to feel in order to get yourself through this. And please ask for help; the help of loved ones, a counselor, coworkers…whomever you feel most comfortable with, because we all need someone to lean on, especially when times get tough. I am wishing you all the best in this. My heart truly goes out to you.

8

I’m sorry for your loss.

9

I’m so sorry you never got the what-could-have-been.

10

Kinda going through the same sorts of feelings now, a good nine months after my own mother passed away. A lot of introspection about why/how I feel what I feel, when the crappy relationship beforehand seems to not warrant any feeling whatsoever. A lot of hiding of feelings and issues, since I still have to deal with family and a stepdad that loved her. Anger and mourning, a great combination.

Unlike me, you’re being a lot more brave and forthright about what you’re experiencing, putting things into words, putting those words out there for others to see. Thank you for that. I’m sorry for your loss, even if you may be bewildered at feeling “loss” when you look at what came before. I don’t know any easy way to cope or move on, so perhaps I’m not the best person to offer condolences. But know that you’re not alone in dealing with the conflicting feelings of losing someone who was perhaps lost years before, and that it’s not wrong to have those feelings… and, in fact, by putting those feelings out there, you’re helping people like me who aren’t as brave.

11

There is no wrong way to feel when dealing with death. No one relationship is the same as any other, and they all hit you differently. And you never get used to it. I’ve lost 6 grandparents (including one step- and one great-), a friend in middle school, a friend in college, and a few aunts/uncles. Feelings have run the gamut from anger to despair to nothing to relief to schadenfreude. And each one hits you like a punch in the gut, even when their death was imminent and expected. If you’re relieved your mom is dead, that’s okay. If you’re sad she’s dead, that’s okay. If you wish you’d been born to a different mom, that’s okay. If you’re angry that she drank herself to an early death knowing full well what the consequences of her actions would be, that’s okay. If you don’t care that she’s dead, that’s okay. If you feel all these things in quick succession over and over again, that’s totally normal.

Thanks for sharing this. Take care of yourself. The sooner you start counseling, the sooner you can start healing. And if you’ve ever been worried about the stigma of getting therapy before, grief counseling has been socially-acceptable for a very long time.

12

This. I suspect this is what you’re mourning in large part, the mother you wished for and now can never have. Wishing for peace for you in time.

13

I’m sorry, hon.

Anything you feel is ok and I hope in time you find peace :slight_smile: Be very gentle with yourself in the following months, shitty mom or not, you’ve still had a loss.

hugs

14

I am so sorry. Sending good thoughts your way.

15

I’m so very sorry.

16

There are few things more pathetic than people who cannot escape their addiction, to the detriment of themselves and the people who love them.

I’m so sorry for your loss.

17

My life was so much better once my mom died.

That’s a really shitty statement, and I still feel guilty for saying it twenty years later, but it’s true.

We all wish things were different, but sometimes they just aren’t.

Give what she could never give, be what she could never be.

18

I’m so sorry she went this way and you never got to have a decent relationship with her. My thoughts are with you.

19

Your mother is your mother, regardless of how well or how badly she handled the role. Wishing you peace and strength as you deal with all of this – and chiming in on the recommendation that you see a therapist to help you sort out the incredibly complicated mix of emotions you’ll be dealing with for the foreseeable future. It helped me when I was dealing with my (bipolar, alcoholic) mother’s death 26 years ago.

Best,

twicks

20

I’m so sorry for your loss, both this one and the loss of the mother that you wanted to have. Please don’t judge yourself for your reactions. You feel what you feel when you feel it, so allow yourself that space. The death of a parent is always hard, and your situation means your feelings will be complicated, and that’s okay. Take care of yourself.