YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

Friends!

I have not spoken to my mother in 1.5 years; “why” depends on who you listen to. (My take, which they strongly disagree with: I ended 1.5 centuries of unprocessed generational trauma. I could have been less cruel, but either way the generational trauma ended that day.)

That said, who is my mother?

I have a complex relationship with the feminine, though it is by no means a negative relationship. I love few things as much as the feminine.

With your kind indulgence I’ll post in the coming week about mother-substitutes.

Also, if you have a broken and/or profoundly incompetent mother, you are not alone. Feel free to share.

Morning Oak

Mothers day has a tinge of anger and sadness for me.

Having no mum on this side of the dirt it comes with a bitter sweet sorrow. Each mothers day i would buy her perfume or a book. Mum was an avid reader. The perfume she used to wear would time to time come back and haunt me with a passing of a stranger wearing the same one. I would feel utter sorrow with this scent. I love perfume, i adore new scents and when i read a book a couple of years ago about the making and meaning behind scents and what it does to the brain really drove home what i was trying to achieve with my mothers gifts. I wanted her to smell something that would remind her of me, that i was behind the scent. I wanted her to feel some form of compassion, feminine or like a mother that cared. Sadly this failed.

At times i feel i miss her, but it is fleeting. Then it drowns me when i least expect it.