DD – My Mom Died

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.


emotions feelings emotion feeling

Photo by Katii Bishop


She has died.

I did not get a chance to say goodbye in person, but I did send a song which she loved: the last music she heard before she passed away.

It’s odd.  After growing up and experiencing all this YUCK in my relationship with my Mom, since her death, I have learned of more of the grades and shades and colours of her life.

I know that she was controlling and hard while I knew her.

But I learned that after I cut contact, and during her experience of being diagnosed with a terminal illness, Mom became softer, kinder and more outgoing. She danced! She accepted change! She showed her true self!

I feel sad that I didn’t get to see her lighter edge, but I reflect, perhaps this came because of the separation between us and/ or because of her diagnosis.  Maybe hearing, “you’re going to die and you cannot change this” changed her view of life?

I attended the ceremony last weekend, and heard stories of her life, from family… I saw other sides of her, and through my own anger and pain, I found love.  I actually felt love.  I know she was in many ways, a “bad mom” and yeh, narcissism sucks.  She was so hurtful and unkind, and i hated her for all those reasons…. but there were, although small moments, times of good.

And you know, she was still my mom… and I miss her.

I miss the times when she was light and happy.

I miss the times when she was silly and fun.

I miss the times we hugged and I felt it was a hug of LOVE.

I miss the times we laughed in authentic moments.

I miss the times we went and saw art together, drank coffee together, walked in nature.

I am beginning to remember some of the nicer things we did together, the moments we shared that were good…. and Z. says these are the things you gotta hold on to, and you gotta just let go all that shit. Naa, that doesn’t mean you forgive all the shit, but that it won’t define you after their death. I am trying.


I am having bouts of feeling okay and then times I just start crying.  I miss my Mom.


DD – Narcissism and Guilt

“NO MORE” was one of the best things I said, and then did, to rid my world of a horrible yucky toxic and manipulative narcissist. It was my Mom.

horror crime death psychopath

Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

Growing up with a twisted and controlling parent is hard.  Last year, I decided, NO MORE. I walked away.  She was controlling my finances and I left.  Sure, I had a month or two or basically starving, getting into debt a bit… but I survived.  She always said I never would be able to make it; that I would not be able to do things on my own, that I could never make enough money to live, that I couldn’t do it without her.  But look at me! I can!

Now she is sick.  Dying, apparently.

And you know- I don’t really care.


Initially, I felt ashamed at my lack of guilt feelings.  I did not feel guilty.  Should I have felt guilt? The thing is, being a child of a narcissist makes you always question your own sanity before anything else.  “Am I right?” … “I must be wrong”… “Am I crazy?”… but then you realize – that feeling of “no guilt” is not guilt or shame at all.

It’s a sense of CONFIDENCE and belief in “you”.

I deserve kindness and goodness.

This feeling is a recognition of that truth.


When she first told me she has cancer, my first thought was, “yaye” and that may seem so unkind, but I DON’T CARE what you think.  After having 37.5 years of being bullied by my mother, told that I am not good enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not able enough…. that I am never going to be a success, that I will suffer without her, being joked about that I have autism, being attacked for being me, being told that being bisexual is “just a phase” and “a fairytale” that it’s “not real”… After being told always that my sister is the golden child, the perfect child, the brilliant one, the smart one… After having 37.5 years of my life made (with intent) to feel like a nothing, I just don’t care if she dies.


Cancer is horrible.  My nan died of cancer.  My opa died of cancer.  My coach’s partner died of cancer.  My friends friend’s are dying of cancer… I get it. It’s nasty.  It’s ruthless. It kills.

But the thing is, if someone you love and trust and respect gets cancer, you WANT to be with them.  You WANT to care for them.

If it’s an abuser… why care?


I have read blogs that you need to “be the grown-up and help”, but I disagree.  Since I have cut my Mom out of my life, my life is better.  I have a better job, I feel stronger and better in myself, I am more confident, my relationship is healthier, my friendships are more meaningful, and I feel HAPPY.  I have struggled with a horrid depression for years and years and years…. and yep, it’s still quiet, but it’s not killing me anymore.  Why? Because the main hold on me; the thing that was strangling me was my Mom.


I let her go, and I became free.

Now she’s dying, and I will  NOT go to her.  I will NOT return. She can die alone, as she deserves. She pushed us all away with her manipulation, her abuse, her neglect and her selfishness.

I choose happiness.

I choose to say No.

I choose to be FREE.

DD – I am sick to death of the stigma!


Something that really grates my carrot is how everyone wants to point the finger when all I mention is the word, “bipolar”.  My partner being bipolar apparently means that he hits me, that he’s manipulative, and a jerk.  What the actual fuck!?

Okay, things are not always rosy gardens in the world of making a relationship work with a bipolar partner… but bloody hell, are things always rosy in a world with autistics? Um. No. I mean, we are the ultimate in “special attention needed”.

I am so sick of people stigmatizing my partner because of his bipolar!

I am so sick to death of all this bullshit stereotyping and judging!



My “Vent”:

A Lifeline crisis worker told me today that bipolar means you are manipulative and dangerous and unable to have a relationship. Then, with my WTF reactions, this worker said he had to end the call because I wasn’t listening to him and “becoming agitated”. Of course I’m fucking agitated. You’re telling me something completely untrue about the man I love!!

Is he manipulative? No.

Is he dangerous? No.

Is he unable to have a relationship? No.

He’s just bipolar.

In fact, “bipolar” and “I’m upset about a disagreement we just had” was really all the Lifeline worker knew about him…. and suddenly, my partner is now some monster? Talk about stigma! And on a mental-health help line, nonetheless!


Unthinking responses?

Okay, so this isn’t my first stigma rodeo.  I have encountered so many bullshit responses to “my partner has bipolar”.  Like, when I have told close friends about him, and they say fucked up things like comparing our relationship to a highly abusive one….

I’ve heard:

  • He doesn’t hit you, does he?
  • Ohh, so he’s always angry.
  • He’s manipulative.
  • Sounds like a dickhead.
  • Should you two really be together?
  • You deserve better.

I deeply appreciate a Devil’s Advocate response from a friend, or a concern being aired, but to jump to the extreme conclusion is just…. well… if I may: it’s bipolar.

It’s as if I said my partner was Iraqi, and you were to say “He’s not a terrorist, is he?” or if I said my friend was gay, and you were to say, “Does he talk with a lisp?” or that I’m autistic, and you were to say, “You can’t be autistic, because XYZ“.



A Solution>>

I have an idea.

How about when you hear something you just take a deep breath, think your first thought but don’t say it, critique that thought and then take another deep breath, and keep listening to that person?

And maybe as the time passes as you listen to that person, you start with a simple sentence:

“I have an observation. I have listened to what you have said and I am still concerned about [stigma/ stereotype]. I may be completely wrong, but have you thought of that?”

And then listen.

And truly take in what the person says.

If they say their partner is not a manipulative jerk, believe them.

It might make your relationship better.


Just a thought.