endless need

[Guest guest]

So today I was telling my nada on the phone that I'd mailed her birthday package

with a few hints about what was in it. She seemed happy in anticipating the

package which was what I was aiming for...yes, I know I'm still screwed up that

I'm trying to make her happy, what can I say? But...I tell her about this cool

store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that she

doesn't have any store like that where she is. She also literally said she

wants to send me all of her hot miserable weather and to have the gray cold

weather I'm enduring here. ANYTHING I share with her about where I shop, what

I eat, what the weather is like, if I saw a goose or a duck, or well, that I'm

going for a walk outside, you get the idea - she envies it, she poor-me's it

that she can't have that experience, and she casts a shadow over whatever I

shared. I try to shake that shadow off, but sometimes it leads to me not

enjoying or seeking out those things again that I told her of. Somehow today

seemed egregious because here I was telling her I'd spent money, effort, and

thought on her and rather than being filled up even for more than a second, she

instantly began to envy and crave other things.

The Buddhists have a term for this state of mind " hungry ghost " , literally or

metaphorically there's supposed to be a hell realm where the whole point is

endless craving with no satisfaction, all the beings have big bellies

(representing their need) and little tiny throats and mouths showing how they

can't possibly take in enough to ever meet the need. Then again maybe I've got

it all wrong, maybe it's like trying to fill up a bucket with a hole in the

bottom...it never gets full.

Thanks for reading my ramble.

Eliza

[Guest guest]

Your analogies make perfect sense to me. Like yours, my nada seemed/seems to me

to be an unfillable black hole of need, sucking all life into herself but never

satisfied. No amount of attention was ever enough for her, no achievement was

ever good enough. I like that Buddhist analogy of the " hungry ghost. " Makes

total sense to me.

Although it is very sad for the hungry bpd ghost-people, we can NOT allow

ourselves to punish ourselves because of *their* unfillable hungry neediness.

Please don't let your mother suck the joy out of your life like an emotional

vampire, that's just wrong.

(By the way, your thoughtful present was just that: very sweet and endearingly

thoughtful and any normal, mentally healthy mother would have been simply

delighted and told you so.)

You can feel pity for her without also feeling responsible to fill her

bottomless well of emotional neediness. I think her ability to suck the joy

from you is coming from your misplaced and inappropriate feelings of guilt and

responsibility, like its your job to at least try. IT IS NOT your job, and

besides, nobody can do that for her. Its nobody's job but her own! She herself

is the only one who can make herself happy inside herself, happy with herself.

I suggest that if you can somehow overcome the misplaced guilt and inappropriate

feelings of responsibility for making her happy, then, I think when she does

that whiny guilt-thing to you you can just feel pity for her and nothing else.

Give her back her responsibility to make herself happy, its not your job. Hand

her back her guilt, its hers to carry. She is an adult, *she can seek therapy

and work on her issues* but its up to her to choose to do so.

" Mom, I notice that you are kind of sad and blue. That makes me feel sad for

you; I wish you could have more joy in life. Have you ever thought about going

into therapy for that? I think a good therapist might really help you learn

ways to bring yourself up, feel more cheerful and enjoy your life more. "

I wonder, though: perhaps when she makes these " poor me, you have it so great "

statements to you, she is actually fishing for you to make an offer to her, to

invite her to come and live with you? I hope that isn't the case.

-Annie

>

> So today I was telling my nada on the phone that I'd mailed her birthday

package with a few hints about what was in it. She seemed happy in anticipating

the package which was what I was aiming for...yes, I know I'm still screwed up

that I'm trying to make her happy, what can I say? But...I tell her about this

cool store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that

she doesn't have any store like that where she is. She also literally said she

wants to send me all of her hot miserable weather and to have the gray cold

weather I'm enduring here. ANYTHING I share with her about where I shop, what

I eat, what the weather is like, if I saw a goose or a duck, or well, that I'm

going for a walk outside, you get the idea - she envies it, she poor-me's it

that she can't have that experience, and she casts a shadow over whatever I

shared. I try to shake that shadow off, but sometimes it leads to me not

enjoying or seeking out those things again that I told her of. Somehow today

seemed egregious because here I was telling her I'd spent money, effort, and

thought on her and rather than being filled up even for more than a second, she

instantly began to envy and crave other things.

>

> The Buddhists have a term for this state of mind " hungry ghost " , literally or

metaphorically there's supposed to be a hell realm where the whole point is

endless craving with no satisfaction, all the beings have big bellies

(representing their need) and little tiny throats and mouths showing how they

can't possibly take in enough to ever meet the need. Then again maybe I've got

it all wrong, maybe it's like trying to fill up a bucket with a hole in the

bottom...it never gets full.

>

> Thanks for reading my ramble.

>

> Eliza

>

[Guest guest]

Hi Annie, I know you speak the truth! But there's some little corner of my

consciousness that just won't let it in. I've had many a friend and many a

therapist tell me some of the same things, and I don't know why it is so hard

for me to stop feeling responsible for her. And your intuition is on the money,

she wants to be out where I am - she's fantasized about living in the area where

I am now most of my life, she used to live here in her youth. Now that I am

here it has been a constant source of tension between us that I haven't brought

her out here - not just to visit, but to live. And it's a constant source of

tension with her sister (the only other family member left) that I haven't moved

where they are to " take care of my mother " . Anyway thank you for speaking the

truth again maybe someday I'll find out how to truly hand her back to herself.

And emotional vampire...oh yes. I avoid doing certain things or if I do them I

don't tell her I did, just to avoid her trying to live vicariously through me or

dumping envy on me. She's been fortunate in so many ways, spared the worst

consequences of so many of her failings so far yet she doesn't see the blessings

in her life at all. Guess that's my cue now to go count a few blessings of my

own.

Thanks,

Eliza

>

> Your analogies make perfect sense to me. Like yours, my nada seemed/seems to

me to be an unfillable black hole of need, sucking all life into herself but

never satisfied. No amount of attention was ever enough for her, no achievement

was ever good enough. I like that Buddhist analogy of the " hungry ghost. "

Makes total sense to me.

>

> Although it is very sad for the hungry bpd ghost-people, we can NOT allow

ourselves to punish ourselves because of *their* unfillable hungry neediness.

>

> Please don't let your mother suck the joy out of your life like an emotional

vampire, that's just wrong.

>

> (By the way, your thoughtful present was just that: very sweet and endearingly

thoughtful and any normal, mentally healthy mother would have been simply

delighted and told you so.)

>

> You can feel pity for her without also feeling responsible to fill her

bottomless well of emotional neediness. I think her ability to suck the joy

from you is coming from your misplaced and inappropriate feelings of guilt and

responsibility, like its your job to at least try. IT IS NOT your job, and

besides, nobody can do that for her. Its nobody's job but her own! She herself

is the only one who can make herself happy inside herself, happy with herself.

>

> I suggest that if you can somehow overcome the misplaced guilt and

inappropriate feelings of responsibility for making her happy, then, I think

when she does that whiny guilt-thing to you you can just feel pity for her and

nothing else. Give her back her responsibility to make herself happy, its not

your job. Hand her back her guilt, its hers to carry. She is an adult, *she

can seek therapy and work on her issues* but its up to her to choose to do so.

>

> " Mom, I notice that you are kind of sad and blue. That makes me feel sad for

you; I wish you could have more joy in life. Have you ever thought about going

into therapy for that? I think a good therapist might really help you learn

ways to bring yourself up, feel more cheerful and enjoy your life more. "

>

> I wonder, though: perhaps when she makes these " poor me, you have it so great "

statements to you, she is actually fishing for you to make an offer to her, to

invite her to come and live with you? I hope that isn't the case.

>

> -Annie

[Guest guest]

>

> " Mom, I notice that you are kind of sad and blue. That makes me feel sad for

you; I wish you could have more joy in life. Have you ever thought about going

into therapy for that? I think a good therapist might really help you learn

ways to bring yourself up, feel more cheerful and enjoy your life more. "

Oh and if I said the above to my mother she would be so enraged and hurt she'd

probably go NC with me. That's how fragile her ego is. What you suggest to say

is rational and caring, and if she didn't have a personality disorder she'd

probably receive it that way...but alas she does!

Eliza

[Guest guest]

yeah, this is another waif thing that my mother does all the time. she is ms.

pitiful 24 hours a day.

one thing I know is I have been in 12 step recovery in alot of A programs over

the years and when I first started I was 23 and there were tons of people in

there her age and still are 20 years later and for whatever reason it never got

painful enough for her to get help for whatever. But help is out there.

In therapy yesterday my T was saying that my family are destructive to my

spirit. She wants me to stay as far away from this as possible as much as

possible. I am learning I have to protect my spirit. It's hard because I

experienced my mother, when I was growing up, as being a child herself and

needing protection herself. So instead of protecting me, I learned to protect

HER. I guess that is the essenceof so-called codependency right there when

someone diverts your self protective instincts away from you and exploits them

for themselves.

It's so hard because my mother had a childhood of trauma and just awful things

that happened. And I wanted to save her. And I think part of it was spiritual in

that if I can't save her I can't forgive God for letting it happen to her and

then I don't get to have a relationship with God or have any faith. It's a very

complicated issue for me. I have to go to my belief in a higher self, even

though it's not a popular concept I have to beleive on some level that my

mother's spirit, her higher self that is not convoluted by sickness, would not

want me to allow her to harm me or hurt my spirit. It's a tough place to be in

but I can relate completely as my mother does this waif crap constantly.

>

> So today I was telling my nada on the phone that I'd mailed her birthday

package with a few hints about what was in it. She seemed happy in anticipating

the package which was what I was aiming for...yes, I know I'm still screwed up

that I'm trying to make her happy, what can I say? But...I tell her about this

cool store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that

she doesn't have any store like that where she is. She also literally said she

wants to send me all of her hot miserable weather and to have the gray cold

weather I'm enduring here. ANYTHING I share with her about where I shop, what

I eat, what the weather is like, if I saw a goose or a duck, or well, that I'm

going for a walk outside, you get the idea - she envies it, she poor-me's it

that she can't have that experience, and she casts a shadow over whatever I

shared. I try to shake that shadow off, but sometimes it leads to me not

enjoying or seeking out those things again that I told her of. Somehow today

seemed egregious because here I was telling her I'd spent money, effort, and

thought on her and rather than being filled up even for more than a second, she

instantly began to envy and crave other things.

>

> The Buddhists have a term for this state of mind " hungry ghost " , literally or

metaphorically there's supposed to be a hell realm where the whole point is

endless craving with no satisfaction, all the beings have big bellies

(representing their need) and little tiny throats and mouths showing how they

can't possibly take in enough to ever meet the need. Then again maybe I've got

it all wrong, maybe it's like trying to fill up a bucket with a hole in the

bottom...it never gets full.

>

> Thanks for reading my ramble.

>

> Eliza

>

[Guest guest]

Eliza,

I have to say, I laughed out loud when you said, " I tell her about this cool

store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that she

doesn't have any store like that where she is. "

It's like you described my life with my nada. It's true! ANYthing I say, " oh

the kids and I went to the pool. " " OH, I wish I could get out. It's so stuffy

in here. " My mother is the ultimate waif.

That's so sad, yet, I bet you knew even with all that work you put into it, she

would find something to be sad about, something she would, without speaking it,

expect you to fix. I gave my mother a beautiful silk scarf a few years back. I

hoped she'd like it, like yourself, still hoping for the Moment of Happiness

Without Regret. She LOVED it....THEN said, " But you know I'm still in mourning

for your father... " And then sighed and started talking about my father's last

days.

ANY thing to remind anyone listening that she's a small, scared waif.

I loved the Buddha story; it really does describe their childish behavior.

Fiona

>

> So today I was telling my nada on the phone that I'd mailed her birthday

package with a few hints about what was in it. She seemed happy in anticipating

the package which was what I was aiming for...yes, I know I'm still screwed up

that I'm trying to make her happy, what can I say? But...I tell her about this

cool store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that

she doesn't have any store like that where she is. She also literally said she

wants to send me all of her hot miserable weather and to have the gray cold

weather I'm enduring here. ANYTHING I share with her about where I shop, what

I eat, what the weather is like, if I saw a goose or a duck, or well, that I'm

going for a walk outside, you get the idea - she envies it, she poor-me's it

that she can't have that experience, and she casts a shadow over whatever I

shared. I try to shake that shadow off, but sometimes it leads to me not

enjoying or seeking out those things again that I told her of. Somehow today

seemed egregious because here I was telling her I'd spent money, effort, and

thought on her and rather than being filled up even for more than a second, she

instantly began to envy and crave other things.

>

> The Buddhists have a term for this state of mind " hungry ghost " , literally or

metaphorically there's supposed to be a hell realm where the whole point is

endless craving with no satisfaction, all the beings have big bellies

(representing their need) and little tiny throats and mouths showing how they

can't possibly take in enough to ever meet the need. Then again maybe I've got

it all wrong, maybe it's like trying to fill up a bucket with a hole in the

bottom...it never gets full.

>

> Thanks for reading my ramble.

>

> Eliza

>

[Guest guest]

" Oh and if I said the above to my mother she would be so enraged and hurt she'd

probably go NC with me. "

Then SAY it!!!!!!!! : )

> >

>

> > " Mom, I notice that you are kind of sad and blue. That makes me feel sad

for you; I wish you could have more joy in life. Have you ever thought about

going into therapy for that? I think a good therapist might really help you

learn ways to bring yourself up, feel more cheerful and enjoy your life more. "

>

> Oh and if I said the above to my mother she would be so enraged and hurt she'd

probably go NC with me. That's how fragile her ego is. What you suggest to say

is rational and caring, and if she didn't have a personality disorder she'd

probably receive it that way...but alas she does!

>

> Eliza

>

[Guest guest]

Hungry Ghost

EXACTLY

> **

>

>

> " Oh and if I said the above to my mother she would be so enraged and hurt

> she'd probably go NC with me. "

>

> Then SAY it!!!!!!!! : )

>

>

>

> > >

> >

> > > " Mom, I notice that you are kind of sad and blue. That makes me feel

> sad for you; I wish you could have more joy in life. Have you ever thought

> about going into therapy for that? I think a good therapist might really

> help you learn ways to bring yourself up, feel more cheerful and enjoy your

> life more. "

> >

> > Oh and if I said the above to my mother she would be so enraged and hurt

> she'd probably go NC with me. That's how fragile her ego is. What you

> suggest to say is rational and caring, and if she didn't have a personality

> disorder she'd probably receive it that way...but alas she does!

> >

> > Eliza

> >

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Hi Fiona, wow do our mothers have a course they take, similar instruction

manuals? What you described with the silk scarf (a very nice present indeed)

sounds so familiar. In my nada is in a rare moment acting happy or healthy and

I point that out she immediately switches to some sadness or going on about some

infirmity. I'm not sure how, but ultimately I've got to find a way to convince

my brain/subconscious/what have you that this truly is HER problem. Maybe if

you guys tell me enough times it'll sink in!

Eliza

>

> Eliza,

>

> I have to say, I laughed out loud when you said, " I tell her about this cool

store I found some her stuff at and she instantly goes in to Waif-mode that she

doesn't have any store like that where she is. "

>

> It's like you described my life with my nada. It's true! ANYthing I say, " oh

the kids and I went to the pool. " " OH, I wish I could get out. It's so stuffy

in here. " My mother is the ultimate waif.

>

> That's so sad, yet, I bet you knew even with all that work you put into it,

she would find something to be sad about, something she would, without speaking

it, expect you to fix. I gave my mother a beautiful silk scarf a few years back.

I hoped she'd like it, like yourself, still hoping for the Moment of Happiness

Without Regret. She LOVED it....THEN said, " But you know I'm still in mourning

for your father... " And then sighed and started talking about my father's last

days.

>

> ANY thing to remind anyone listening that she's a small, scared waif.

>

> I loved the Buddha story; it really does describe their childish behavior.

>

> Fiona

>