Sunday, March 13, 2011

What was done to my mother

Her daughter was basically taken away from her. We lived together, but she wasn't allowed to do anything, because she was incompetent. Her breasts were incompetent, too, so my father took over, a hero brandishing a bottle of formula.

When I was 20, she died of breast cancer. How creepily symbolic.

When I was starting to emerge from the depths of my PPD (postpartum depression) after my first daughter was already over two years old, I allowed myself some free associations and symbolic thinking.

Why is motherhood making you so desperate?

Because I know mothers don't matter, especially if they have daughters.

Because I know daughters will adore their fathers and ignore their mothers.

Because I know mothers get KILLED by their daughters.


Why, yes. I killed my mother. I couldn't nurse well and my father took over and she was killed as a mother and, quite appropriately and symbolically, she got breast cancer. And it's our fault.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, Pronoia. This post broke my heart. You do know, don't you, that you didn't kill her? She was treated horribly by a cruel husband. Yes, the symbolism is obvious, but YOU are not guilty. All babies want to suckle at their mother's breast. When they are newborns, they want to suckle practically all day. It is how they encourage milk production and how they bond with their mommies. You and your mother were doing just the right thing by nursing all the time in the early days. Your father STOLE that from both of you. He probably broke your poor mother's heart and her spirit with his abuse. Good God! I am so angry for you right now. You need to let this one go. You were a helpless babe, and your mother was being abused. Babies do not kill their mothers. Period. ((((Hugs))))


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