She was narcisistic and cared little about others. My mother often robotically asked how I was doing. But I do my best not to judge myself and not to judge others.Ĥ. Like her, I'm sometimes disappointed in how I've turned out. I look a lot like her and it reminds me to be more kind, but it doesn't always work. Every time I look in the mirror, I see my mother. I judge too much and daily reprimand myself for it. I believe she wanted to love us more, but couldn't because she didn't truly love herself.ģ. I think she saw too much of others in us and was disappointed she didn't have more influence over who we became. It often felt she had us kids simply to gain a semblance of control - over what, I'm not sure. I had this revelation early on but denied it. I got married two years later, had a child and found great joy in both - all the while wondering why my mother didn't seem to find this joy in her life.Ģ. After her death, I discovered there is love in the world and I am worth something to others. My small family and circle of friends had great sympathy for my brothers and me as we spent a week watching our mother die and when we put her to rest. Despite her actions making me feel worthless, my mother's death made me realize I am loved. Instead, I'm left to learn from her actions toward me and others, and vice versa.ġ. I've often thought what life could have been like if she'd been well, mentally and physically. She died from the end stages of multiple sclerosis. My mother was manipulative and conniving, mentally and emotionally abusive. Really, it's been more than that as we never truly had a relationship worth anything. Three years later, I sat by her bedside in a hospital trying to fill her last days with good memories.Ĭoming to terms with my mother's death is hard, even after nine years. She didn't like what I had to say and made an excuse to end the call. The last lucid conversation I had with my mother ended with her hanging up on me.

I think i am dead