Parents... pure hell

I’m going to step back from this discussion for my own sake, at least for now, but I can't just stay silent. To the author: please, under no circumstances and regardless of how much it hurts, do not let your mother pass away without looking her in the eye and telling her exactly what she did to your life. This doesn't have to be an accusation or a trial; think of it simply as a moment of raw, honest truth—and then, whatever happens, happens.
Because if you don't, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. All that anger, all that pain, and those feelings you can't quite find the words for—they'll stay trapped inside you, weighing you down forever. Eventually, you might end up in a position like mine, where you find yourself acting out against a parent who isn't even here anymore, using spite as a way to deal with the frustrations they left behind, sinking emotionally every single time the memory resurfaces.
Take me, for example. Ever since I was a kid, I've had a natural gift for writing, something I inherited from my father. But I don't use it. I refuse to use it because it feels like it belongs to him—it's his legacy. To me, words feel suffocating, heavy... so what do I do? I suppress them. I hold onto this stubborn vow I made to myself: whatever I was given, I'll take to my grave. It's my way of being defiant against everything he put me through.
The thing is, I don't have a choice anymore—he's been gone for fifteen years. And look, I've spent those fifteen years living with this weight, knowing exactly where I went wrong, but having zero chance to make it right.
But you still have that chance. Go do it.

Harold Phillips54 said:I’m going to step back from this discussion for my own sake, at least for now, but I can't just stay silent. To the author: please, under no circumstances and regardless of how much it hurts, do not let your mother pass away without looking her in the eye and telling her exactly what she did to your life. This doesn't have to be an accusation or a trial; think of it simply as a moment of raw, honest truth—and then, whatever happens, happens.
Because if you don't, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. All that anger, all that pain, and those feelings you can't quite find the words for—they'll stay trapped inside you, weighing you down forever. Eventually, you might end up in a position like mine, where you find yourself acting out against a parent who isn't even here anymore, using spite as a way to deal with the frustrations they left behind, sinking emotionally every single time the memory resurfaces.
Take me, for example. Ever since I was a kid, I've had a natural gift for writing, something I inherited from my father. But I don't use it. I refuse to use it because it feels like it belongs to him—it's his legacy. To me, words feel suffocating, heavy... so what do I do? I suppress them. I hold onto this stubborn vow I made to myself: whatever I was given, I'll take to my grave. It's my way of being defiant against everything he put me through.
The thing is, I don't have a choice anymore—he's been gone for fifteen years. And look, I've spent those fifteen years living with this weight, knowing exactly where I went wrong, but having zero chance to make it right.
But you still have that chance. Go do it.

Dear John! 🙂I’ve actually brought this up to her quite a few times over the last decade—even right before I decided to start this thread—but honestly, she just laughs in my face every single time! At this point, I don't really feel the need to push the issue anymore because I truly feel like I've laid all my cards on the table and said everything that actually needs to be said.
I can't help but wonder if there’s a chance she might actually get physical with me, on top of all that cursing she's definitely doing!
I don't think I'm actually worried about her getting physical with me, but honestly, I’ve already gone toe-to-toe with her once before! It really could have turned into a full-on brawl if someone else hadn't stepped in right at the last second to break us up.
I honestly don't have anything left to say to her! I've finally reached that point where I'm absolutely certain that I need to cut all ties completely, even when she starts sobbing like some helpless, broken woman who's just begging for help.

The folks on this forum really hit the nail on the head when they described her narcissism and those manipulative tactics she uses! I actually spent this past weekend hanging out with my brother and sister, and honestly, it was such a breath of fresh air because everything felt totally normal. It felt like the first time we could actually think, act, and speak our minds freely without her constantly hovering over us or trying to control the vibe. We all finally realized that moving forward, it’s best if we just keep her at arm's length. She definitely sensed that we were standing united, and it was probably the first time ever that none of us reached out to her or even acknowledged her presence, which I know must have been a massive blow to her ego!
I honestly feel like all three of them should just step up and confront her head-on! If they actually stood their ground together, I don't think she’d be able to keep up that fake laughter of hers because she'd be totally exposed from every single angle at once. Who knows, maybe we'll see that happen one day, though personally, I think our best bet right now is just to hit that block button and move on with our lives!

I honestly feel like once they finally pass away, we’re all going to breathe such a massive sigh of relief! It’s just one of those things where the three of us have collectively realized that this toxic parent has become such a huge roadblock in our lives, and honestly, they just sowed far too much poison along the way.
I truly believe that once those souls finally find their peace, it’s going to ripple out and bring a sense of calm into our own lives too!
I honestly can't quite put my finger on it, but that's just how I'm feeling right now!
Exactly like everyone else mentioned—she’s finally going to have to deal with the consequences of her own actions! It's funny how life works, isn't it? You reap exactly what you sow, and now she's about to feel the burn from that toxicity she's been spreading around.

I honestly feel like such a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders ever since the folks on here helped me realize that I don't owe her a single second of my time or energy, especially now that she’s just an elderly, frail woman left completely alone by her own children!
It finally clicked for me. I was just hanging out near her house over the weekend—maybe twenty yards from her front door—and honestly, it felt so incredibly liberating knowing she won't be reaching out to me. I don't wish her any ill will, but I truly couldn't care less about her struggles; I simply don't feel responsible for her, and I have zero interest in rushing in to play the "first responder" role.
Things were always a bit tense, but back then, she had this intense, powerful energy because she was younger.
Seeing how much she's aged lately actually shook me up quite a bit, but after reading all the comments from everyone here—and thank God you all stepped up—everything feels crystal clear again.
The second you mention anything about the soul, emotions, or those deeper "spiritual things," she just snaps; she’ll burst into this fits of manic laughter or start mocking you, completely losing her sense of reality... and frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned physical, trying to flip the script and accuse me of being the aggressor.
It wouldn't be the first time in her life she's twisted a situation to screw someone over.
Seriously, she is capable of absolutely anything when she wants to manipulate people.
I really think the best way to handle this is through total, 100% silence. In this specific situation, I truly believe going completely dark is the best medicine for both of us.

Harold Phillips54 said:I’m going to step back from this discussion for my own sake, at least for now, but I can't just stay silent. To the author: please, under no circumstances and regardless of how much it hurts, do not let your mother pass away without looking her in the eye and telling her exactly what she did to your life. This doesn't have to be an accusation or a trial; think of it simply as a moment of raw, honest truth—and then, whatever happens, happens.
Because if you don't, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. All that anger, all that pain, and those feelings you can't quite find the words for—they'll stay trapped inside you, weighing you down forever. Eventually, you might end up in a position like mine, where you find yourself acting out against a parent who isn't even here anymore, using spite as a way to deal with the frustrations they left behind, sinking emotionally every single time the memory resurfaces.
Take me, for example. Ever since I was a kid, I've had a natural gift for writing, something I inherited from my father. But I don't use it. I refuse to use it because it feels like it belongs to him—it's his legacy. To me, words feel suffocating, heavy... so what do I do? I suppress them. I hold onto this stubborn vow I made to myself: whatever I was given, I'll take to my grave. It's my way of being defiant against everything he put me through.
The thing is, I don't have a choice anymore—he's been gone for fifteen years. And look, I've spent those fifteen years living with this weight, knowing exactly where I went wrong, but having zero chance to make it right.
But you still have that chance. Go do it.

Hang in there, dear Harold Phillips54... you really have to find a way through this! I can only imagine that you might be dealing with an incredibly deep and painful wound right now—it honestly sounds like it could be something truly heavy.
Please, try to be kind to yourself and find some ways to help yourself heal. I truly believe that psychotherapy is always a valid option on the table, though I know for some people, following a spiritual path can be just as transformative. I’m not quite sure what kind of person you are or what resonates with your soul, but there is always a way forward—we just have to roll up our sleeves and find it together!
I have to say, you guys really shook me up in the best way possible, and I can't thank you enough for all the support in the comments! I’ve spent quite a bit of time diving into books like *Toxic Parents* and *Women Who Love Too Much*, but there is honestly nothing that compares to when people reach out and speak directly to you on such a deeply personal level—it truly means the world to me.
John, please hang in there... don't let them get you down! Honestly, if the people on this forum who have been helping me pull through—and they’ve been doing such an incredible job—could lend you a hand, I know they could pluck you right out of those weeds in no time at all.
I really put my trust in them, and honestly, they went above and beyond to give that right back to me! It’s such a wonderful feeling. Each one of them brought something truly unique to the table to help me navigate through my situation.
Sending you all so much love and waving at everyone from my bathrobe! 🙂
Harold Phillips54, I’ve personally given them a whirl, and honestly, you might just want to take the plunge yourself too... sending love!

Look, your situation isn't nearly as dire as mine. Honestly, I’m just someone who grew up without a place to call home. My father disowned me—he fought my very right to claim him as a parent—and even after I was an adult, married, and fully grown, he kicked me out of the house with a blunt "don't bother coming back." For years, things finally seemed to settle, and he actually stepped back into being a father to me until the day he passed. But then I realized he had never changed his mind. He actually showed me his true colors in a really ugly, posthumous way, leaving me to realize I’d been living a delusion for half my life. Because of that rejection, he robbed me of the chance to say what I truly needed to say to his face. I consider myself a pretty resilient, tough woman; I've always handled my own problems since I was a kid. I wouldn't be responding to your posts if I didn't feel it was necessary to speak up while a conflicting person is still alive, because sometimes you need those spoken words to find some closure for everything you've endured.
I couldn't do that. All I could do was go to the gravesite, sit on a stone, look at his photo, and talk to him—really just talking to myself—but nothing ever came of it. You have this deep human need to tell a rational being, "Damn it, look at what you did to me!" You want to yell, "You blind fool, where are you looking? I look just like you! I have your bad eyesight, I have your gift for writing... why on earth didn't you just help me prove paternity instead of making my life a living hell?" Well, you see, once they're gone, you can't do that.
And for the record, I don't need anyone's help. I helped myself. What I ended up receiving from his estate—the financial side of things—wasn't even because he wanted me to have it. In fact, he explicitly decided I wouldn't get anything from his side of the family; my brother made sure of that through a private agreement. So, that little bit of money, maybe about five thousand dollars, I blew on all sorts of nonsense as long as there was cash to spend. When my mom asked if I had put any of it into savings, I told her straight up: "No, I spent it all. I used the last few bucks to buy toilet paper." As for that talent for writing I inherited from him? I’m never going to use it. And I won't. That stubbornness is my version of self-help, and I don't need anything else.
Life is tough, and those ghosts from the past catch up to you when you least expect it. Here I am, over 50, a grown woman with two-thirds of my life behind me, and yet sometimes I truly feel like a helpless little girl. It only lasts for a moment, though. Once that masochistic, self-satisfied spite flashes across my face, I just tell myself: "Am I not your daughter? Fine. Then I don't want a single thing from you."

Harold Phillips54 said:Look, your situation isn't nearly as dire as mine. Honestly, I’m just someone who grew up without a place to call home. My father disowned me—he fought my very right to claim him as a parent—and even after I was an adult, married, and fully grown, he kicked me out of the house with a blunt "don't bother coming back." For years, things finally seemed to settle, and he actually stepped back into being a father to me until the day he passed. But then I realized he had never changed his mind. He actually showed me his true colors in a really ugly, posthumous way, leaving me to realize I’d been living a delusion for half my life. Because of that rejection, he robbed me of the chance to say what I truly needed to say to his face. I consider myself a pretty resilient, tough woman; I've always handled my own problems since I was a kid. I wouldn't be responding to your posts if I didn't feel it was necessary to speak up while a conflicting person is still alive, because sometimes you need those spoken words to find some closure for everything you've endured.
I couldn't do that. All I could do was go to the gravesite, sit on a stone, look at his photo, and talk to him—really just talking to myself—but nothing ever came of it. You have this deep human need to tell a rational being, "Damn it, look at what you did to me!" You want to yell, "You blind fool, where are you looking? I look just like you! I have your bad eyesight, I have your gift for writing... why on earth didn't you just help me prove paternity instead of making my life a living hell?" Well, you see, once they're gone, you can't do that.
And for the record, I don't need anyone's help. I helped myself. What I ended up receiving from his estate—the financial side of things—wasn't even because he wanted me to have it. In fact, he explicitly decided I wouldn't get anything from his side of the family; my brother made sure of that through a private agreement. So, that little bit of money, maybe about five thousand dollars, I blew on all sorts of nonsense as long as there was cash to spend. When my mom asked if I had put any of it into savings, I told her straight up: "No, I spent it all. I used the last few bucks to buy toilet paper." As for that talent for writing I inherited from him? I’m never going to use it. And I won't. That stubbornness is my version of self-help, and I don't need anything else.
Life is tough, and those ghosts from the past catch up to you when you least expect it. Here I am, over 50, a grown woman with two-thirds of my life behind me, and yet sometimes I truly feel like a helpless little girl. It only lasts for a moment, though. Once that masochistic, self-satisfied spite flashes across my face, I just tell myself: "Am I not your daughter? Fine. Then I don't want a single thing from you."

I totally get where you're coming from... thank you so much for sharing your story and giving me a better sense of everything that's going on! It really helps to understand the full picture. If you don't mind me asking, what was the situation with your mom? I can't help but wonder if she could have just filed for a paternity test back then to finally settle the matter once and for all!
I totally get why you're feeling this way about what he did to you. You know, I’m a huge believer in the laws of the universe; I really feel like no matter where he runs, space has a way of seeing things exactly as they are, and eventually, he'll have to face the truth he's been trying to twist and bend to fit his own desires for all these years!
Honestly, for people like us dealing with this stuff, we really need more support. In some other countries, you can just jump right into a therapy group without jumping through a million hoops first, but here in the States, the whole process feels so much more complicated than it should be. I have to start by seeing my primary care physician, and let me tell you, she’s just not that invested—you can tell she’s completely overwhelmed with her own workload and barely has time to breathe, let alone focus on me. I'm honestly worried about whether she'll even bother giving me a referral or if I'll just end up getting bounced around from one specialist to another. I’ve heard so many stories from others about how much wandering and sheer persistence it takes just to find someone who actually intends to listen to you! I would love nothing more than to join a support group filled with people facing similar family issues. I know it's going to take some serious effort and a lot of staying power, but I really want to put in the work just so I can know I actually tried to make a change.

Growing up, I honestly felt like I was an adopted kid! It sounds silly, but looking back at my first grade school photo, there was just this nagging feeling that I didn't quite fit in with the rest of the family. Plus, logically, it never made sense to me why they would suddenly adopt a third child when they already had two little ones running around.
I remember being about eight years old and timidly asking my mom if I was actually adopted... she just gave me this look and told me to stop talking nonsense! Eventually, I realized I was definitely their biological child, though. My mom once mentioned to a friend that I wasn't exactly planned—that I just sort of arrived one day—and I can still vividly recall the blunt way she said it.
Because of that feeling of being an outsider, I spent so many years as a little girl being too afraid to ask for anything at all. I wouldn't dare ask for love, attention, or even a tiny toy from the drugstore aisle; instead, I just wore hand-me-downs from my brother, my sister, or some older cousin. I was always so hyper-aware, trying my absolute best to make sure I didn't "burden" them or cause any trouble.

Hey everyone!
Just wanted to give you all a quick little update on how things are going.
I haven't spoken to my mom since we last talked.
I am still in touch with my brother, though.
As for my sister, she’s cut me off completely for reasons I can't quite wrap my head around.
She’s the only one still talking to our mom.
My brother and her talk every now and then, but since they live just down the street from each other, it feels more like a matter of convenience than anything else.
Honestly, I don't spend much time thinking about my mother anymore, and I have to say, it feels incredibly freeing.
I know life is fragile and anyone could pass away at any moment, but that thought doesn't weigh on me or cause me any anxiety.
It is such a relief to finally be unburdened by having zero contact with her.
For the first time in my life, this isn't an issue for me, and I don't feel a single ounce of guilt
like I used to back in the day.
I've finally realized that I am not responsible for the choices she makes in her own life.
Because of that, I'm sleeping like a baby, feeling totally peaceful and dignified.
Following some of the advice I received here, I've truly forgiven her in my heart, so there is absolutely no
bitterness or resentment left in me.
And regarding my dad, I’ve come to realize it wasn't my job to constantly defend him or act as his shield.
He was the adult who should have been looking out for himself and for me.
It's not my responsibility to fight his battles for him, whether it was years ago or now that he's
no longer with us.