Forgive them, for they know not what they do

"I hope you can forgive me... even though I have done nothing to be forgiven for."

This is going to be a long post, but I believe my mother's last significant words to me deserve a post all of their own.

I saw my mother for the final time in the summer of 2013. Of course, I didn't realise then that it would be the absolute final time. I had high hopes for the visit, because I did know that it would, undoubtedly, be the last time I'd see her for at least a couple of years (and in all probability, even longer than that) - I was getting ready to emigrate to Australia from the UK with my family that September. I thought maybe we might part on good terms, or at least not on bad terms. I was willing and prepared to put the effort in. After all, she was my mother and I was her daughter. There's got to be something there worth fighting for.

It was the first time she had clapped eyes on my youngest son, who was a month away from his first birthday. (Her aloof, standoffish and indifferent attitude towards my children is a topic for another post, although it is of course tangentially relevant to this one.)

Even after 30+ years of being hideously abused, manipulated, let down, dismissed and disappointed by her, I still allowed my expectations to rise above ground zero. It was a terrible mistake but I'm actually glad I made that mistake. It proves without a shadow of a doubt that I forgave to my own detriment, time and time again. To some, that might seem foolish, and perhaps it is - but I am satisfied that I did what I could, with my limited coping skills and abundant forbearance.  I never stopped loving, and I never stopped forgiving.

But everyone has their limits. In the summer of 2013, I reached my limit.

I used to agree with this, but not any more.

Even after arriving in Australia, I wrote her a few desperate, beseeching emails and letters, I updated her with photos of my sons, her grandsons, still trying to salvage something, to resurrect anything, digging deep for just a mere morsel of introspection and compassion... But the fact is, during that final visit three and a half years ago, she actually killed off whatever broken remains were left of our 'relationship'. She put a final fatal bullet in its wheezing, desiccated carcass. And she did it with a sadistic smirk on her face. Of course, as with everything else that unconscionable woman has put me through, it's entirely deniable. But I saw, with my own eyes, the 'slipping of the mask', and that tiny split-second fraction of a second was all I really needed to make the long-overdue decision to finally move on with my life, away from her - not just physically (geographically) but in every other way.

During the first day or two we spent together that summer, my mother was just waiting to drop a bombshell, waiting to tell me something that she had done to hurt me, something calculated and monumental (but still by no means the worst thing she's ever done). When she did come out and say it, she did so with matter-of-fact blandness as if reading from a shopping list, yet with a weighty deliberation that was chilling. Her facial expression flashed subliminally with a calm, self-assured and totally unmistakable "fuck you". At that instant, I glimpsed the diabolical void of her afflicted soul - and it shook me to my core. And, being me, I reacted with spontaneous and visible incredulity, shock, hurt and outrage to her disclosure. (Narcissists LOVE it when their victims wear their hearts on their sleeves: they clearly see those vulnerabilities, fresh and exposed for exploiting, like a vampire might salivate over a pulsing jugular.)

In an instant, a gut-wrenching, face-slapping instant, I FINALLY, at long last, saw clearly what had been staring me in the face for my entire life: my mother really, really, doesn't love me. She hates me.

I turned 40 last September, three years after first arriving in Australia and eighteen months after instigating No Contact, and my mother sent me a birthday card, which I was kind of half-expecting her to do (she got someone else to write on the envelope). Inside the card (generic and insipid, as usual) she had inserted one of her 'angel' cards - the 'Forgiveness' one (pictured below). Now, a person who is not familiar with my mother might reasonably construe that this was a weak but plain attempt at 'apologising' - seeking my forgiveness. Nothing could be further from the truth. The message is this: "You have removed yourself from my life, so I am no longer able to utilise you in ways that benefit me while depleting and destroying you. I despise you for that, and I will hold you personally and solely accountable for it forever, and I will make sure everyone knows what a shit, heartless disappointment of a so-called daughter you are. What you have done to me is unforgivable, but do you know what? I forgive you anyway. Because I am as close to perfection as it is possible to be. You, on the other hand, are beneath contempt."

Now I am starting to understand that forgiveness is not a prerequisite for obtaining 'peace'

Having studied Cluster B personality disorders for over seven years, I am now in no doubt about how her warped mind and twisted thinking operates. She therefore does not have the power to hurt me again, ever. That is not to say I will ever find her remotely comprehensible - she is, to me, insane and reprehensible. Always has been, and always will be. But I have at least made some progress in understanding "what makes narcissists tick", and specifically what motivates, fuels and terrifies my mother, a malignant covert narcissist who tried and failed to make me another one of her defeated victims while play-acting the part of "loving mother".

Another 'forgiveness' truism that is hard to disagree with.

I began the year 2016 hoping (indeed assuming) that I would eventually reach a point where I could say: I forgive my mother. I've always believed forgiveness to be important and as such, I have read a lot on the subject over the past 12 months. At least 50% of what I've read (mainly in ACoN forums and on other abuse survivor pages) has turned the traditional "forgiveness is a gift to yourself" trope on its head. Yes, forgiveness should be a gift - to both parties - but ONLY when the hurt, fault or wrong-doing has been acknowledged, validated and apologised for... AND, just as importantly, if not more so, the offending behaviour modified accordingly.

Jesus Christ may have unconditionally forgiven his enemies over and over again, but in the real world, in the life of a normal human being, "turning the other cheek" to allow yourself to be repeatedly abused, insulted, let down and betrayed is a surefire way of losing all self-respect and self-worth. Besides which, I am not Jesus Christ. And I have no cheeks left to turn.

The day before we parted ways forever, my mother made me look her in the eyes and promise her that I didn't feel "resentful". Being an obedient little daughter, sick to death by now of her shitty mind games and debilitating, impermeable toxicity, and just wanting her to get the fuck away from me once and for all, I looked her straight in the eyes and said: "I don't feel resentful". And it was true. "Resentful" didn't even scratch the surface of what I was feeling. She then made that ultimate narcissistic statement: "I hope you can forgive me... even though I have done nothing to be forgiven for."

And what was there left to say, after that? Nothing.

One thing I have always found astonishing about my mother is her refusal (inability) to apologise. It simply amazes me that someone can cause harm, KNOW that they caused harm, and feel NOTHING, not even a vague twinge of remorse or shame. (In the case of my mother, it's worse than that - she has always actively ENJOYED hurting me.) For as long as this sick attitude persists, it would be both wrong and stupid of me to even entertain the thought of forgiving her. How CAN you forgive someone who is wilfully blind and completely unrepentant? Someone who scorns your pain, denies your feelings, claims to "not remember" any of the abuses you suffered? You cannot. It demolishes everything 'forgiveness' is supposed to represent. It makes a mockery of it.

Forgiveness is the best course of action but ONLY if the person who has wronged you takes full ownership of their mistakes and the harmful repercussions of those mistakes. ONLY if the person who has wronged you shows compassion and clarity, thereby giving YOU the power to forgive. Without all that, you CANNOT forgive. It's rendered impossible.

I will therefore not be forgiving my mother, but my hope for 2017 is that my anger will fade to a flicker rather than remain the intense inferno it has been for the past three years.

You are under no obligation to forgive those who hurt and damaged you beyond repair. Don’t let them sell you forgiveness like it is the only drug that will help you let go of your despair

- Nikita Gill, Forgiving Those Who Hurt You is Not Always The Path To Healing

Further reading:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/erica-manfred/why-forgiveness-is-overra_1_b_812181.html

Forgiveness is bullshit