A Missive From Mother

Do you remember Dr M? The fine suit wearing doctor with the soon to be worn away crotch? Of course you do. Well as you will recall the first consultation ended in a resounding victory to me as I kept him at bay with my silent treatment. I fair floated out of his consulting room and exited onto the cold street outside. Two days after this trouncing of Dr M I received a letter. I knew straight away who it was from. She always used 100gsm manila C5 envelopes. The quality and weight of the envelope was something she was fastidious about. She would often snort at personal letters which arrived in anything which was white and below the weight she preferred. I naturally recognised her immaculate copperplate handwriting as well. I knew what would be contained in the enclosed letter but I read it anyway.

“Dear HG

To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.

Speak up or suffer the consequences.

With fondness

Mother”

I tore the letter up. Her hypocrisy was evident once again. There she was chastising me for remaining silent with Dr M when all through her life (or at least that much that I could actually recall) she had used silence. Silence to convey her fury with anyone who had not given her what she wanted. Silence to let people know that they were in the wrong. Silence to hurt. Silence to control. Silence to compel. The High Priestess of Hush was admonishing me for saying nothing. She should be praising me but then I had come to expect this. I keenly observed her deportment. Impeccable manners, politeness, punctuality and high standards. Shoes must always be black for men, there is no brown in town. A Windsor knot in my tie (I had to learn at ten years old to do it myself. I can remember standing in the living room with the tears of frustration trickling down my face as I was scolded for getting it wrong once again). Never wear white shirts unless it is a funeral or you are an airline pilot. Oh or a police officer. At dinner remember to ask “Do you know the Bishop of Norwich?” and “Is your passport in order?” All her lectures I absorbed and obeyed and most of all I learned all about her use of silence. I had done exactly as I should when dealing with someone who was trying to undermine me. That Dr M was trying to unnerve me and make him the superior being in the room. He soon came undone when faced by the Tudor Icewall. I did precisely the right thing but there we are it was the wrong thing according to the Duchess of Disdain. I did not take kindly to the threat contained in the letter either but I could not ignore it. And she knew that. Of course she knew that. She fires off one of her standard howitzer quotations in order to gain the high ground. Typically she was economic with her writing too.

“No letter should ever be more than a page in length, any more and you are waffling.”

I can hear her saying that now. Mind you, she was right about that and was right about most things, I am like her in that respect, that much I will concede. Nevertheless I did not welcome this diktat and hurled the torn pieces of paper on the floor before I stormed out of my house. I felt wounded by this correspondence. She could always wound me so easily with her letters. Whenever she wanted to set me straight she would send me a letter. It was like a papal bull and it always made me feel crippled. Whenever I received one of these letters I could feel the scorching criticism tearing through me and I needed to douse it. I needed to find a salve for the affliction. It was no good confronting her. She would only make matters worse. No others would pay in order to ease my suffering and pay they did.

I lambasted the girl on reception at the office for not having her hair tied up and found three other petty reasons to tear a strip off her. She was soon in tears. I threw a report from a junior colleague back at him and told him to come back when he had learned how to do joined-up writing. I told my secretary her forthcoming extended weekend break was cancelled because there was too much work to do. I removed another colleague from leading a team and appointed one of his peers instead. I knew from her grateful smile and thankful gaze that I had credit to be used from between her legs and I would readily do so by the end of the day. I wrote some disgusting graffiti about a head of department in one of the cubicles in the gentlemens’ bathroom. I got my secretary to ring the restaurant where I did most of my entertaining and as I stood listening she was instructed to tell them that their sablefish was sub-standard and for that reason my expense account would be used at a competitor establishment. The manager of the restaurant rang four times to apologise and sent a bottle of champagne in order to try and win back my patronage. I called my sister and told her how useless she was and she was never to ring me ever again. I cancelled a meeting and spent two hours blitzing three fuel prospects with texts, ensuring the content became progressively filthier. I telephoned my then girlfriend and explained I had to take someone else out for dinner in the evening and put the phone down on her. I was a whirlwind of malice throughout the rest of the day until as 6pm approached I realised the horrible burning inside had ceased and I felt cleansed. I sat at my desk and dragged my hand across my face relieved to have overcome the weakness that threatened to topple me as a consequence of that single sheet of paper with the minimum of words etched upon it.

I opened one of the drawers on my desk and selected a single heavy sheet of cream paper. I set it straight before me and taking up my fountain pen I began to write.

“Mother dearest,

The word listen contains the same letters as the word silent. Dr M will listen.

Yours

HG”

I slid the letter in the envelope and smiled. She would be proud of me this time, surely?

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42 thoughts on “A Missive From Mother”

  1. Extremely enlightening to your development, HG. Thank you for gifting us the uncensored look into your relationship with your Monster… err… Mother.

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  2. Wow. I thought Loser was the only man who used the Windsor knot! This is, I’m sure, just a tiny insight into your relationship with your mama. Hmmm….she must have known my mama. They sound like sisters.

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  3. Narcissists and codependants we have tht in common. Wounds from the parents. “Fused at the wound”.. Im pretty sure as we have it im common the treatment is the same. Healing childhood trauma. Understanding, Going through the pain and being able to let go and forgive. Finding innerpeace..
    I send you everyday my most strong energies that you can let go of your childhood wounds.. I am in that process too 💋

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  4. “With Fondness”? People are fond of a cafe, favorite pj’s, a vacation spot. How one feels towards their child? My heart aches reading this for that 10 year old child. To have that moment of your frustration trying to get your Windsor knot and have your mom wipe your tears and just say, ” Silly boy, no tears over this. I love you for trying. Keep practicing and 1 day it will just click…”
    The subcontext of venom pours from this blog. I’m sure this one was not easy to put out.
    I’m sorry you never felt unconditional love from your mother.

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      1. Very interesting reading this older piece again following on the heels of, “I Object”, where he writes now on his obsession of having mastered control on everything and everybody in his environment. The wounding of Little HG by the High Priestess of Hush and Duchess of Disdain seems as fresh now as when he endured it all those years ago. So much healing that needs to happen. It’s why she can still wound him so easily with a lick of a stamp.

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  5. You are so amazing. To put into few words a message that means so much to the ones that are in the same situatiom or have gone through similar.
    You are not Evil HG, i think you are a brave, intelligent and exceptional human being.
    To do all the hard work that it takes to realize why we do like we do and why we are like we are and share it with an audience that you dont even know is exceptional.
    Now that the understanding hard work is done by going through tearful memories, comes the even more hard work to change how we act and do because the cause will always be there. The painful experience with our parents or the painful experienxe of being present in their dysfunctional interaction will always be there, the scar permanently stays.
    The long process of letting go of that pain, of forgiving if possible, of understanding why they did what they did will hopefully enable us to change our thinking our mindset and finally the way of acting with the others and towards ourselves.
    I bet you can do that as good as you write HG. You are my roll model in this recovery process, apart of giving me the pleasure to read such a good writter. You excel so much in doing it. Keep up the good work and sharing with us. ☀️☀️ Nice Sunday ☀️☀️
    I could imagine somebody is slowly feeling very proud??

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    1. Thank you for the compliments Nikita they are appreciated. I have been provided with awareness from the work with the good doctors and in tandem with that I am content to share my observations and I am pleased people find them interesting and helpful. As you know, I need people and therefore enjoy my interaction with them. The good doctors do talk about change but I do not see that happening, after all, everything works so well now so why alter it? We shall see however as it appears I am far from done with them although I suspect they are just trying to earn greater fees,I know their game. I always do.

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      1. Thank you! That couldn’t of been easy for you to write. I don’t believe that you are evil at all! I believe the things you do are to protect you and that little boy inside that was hurt so many years ago. I know what it is like to always want to please your parents and look for that moment of approval and pride in there eyes and never get it, know matter how hard you try nothing you do is ever right. We have a lot in common really your empaths and you. We however are always looking to please and nurture to find that love and approval. I truly do hope someday you find peace. Xo.

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      2. If its soo good until now then I think it will get even better no? Even though the doctors are trying to earn more money its well earned if everything is for the best. Continuos improvement 😜.

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  6. My sentiments are somewhat similar to the replies already posted. I read your post earlier today and found myself wandering off deep in thought for quite a few minutes before being interrupted by others and having to leave. It triggered me in many ways and invoked much compassion, sadness and somehow, hope for you; somewhat similar to that of Nikita’s description.

    The last paragraph “I slid the letter in the envelope and smiled. She would be proud of me this time, surely?” of your post was particularly relatable to me, in a sense that both disturbed and saddened me. The thing that stood out to me most was that after all your “letting go” ( we all do so in different ways..no judgement intended) of your feelings that arose after both sighting and reading your mum’s letter, you still sought for her approval. Not only in order to achieve your things that have been threatened to be removed, and so accept the challenge presented, but it seems also to show a need to achieve her absolute approval and acceptance. Or is it just to ensure you “win”.? I guess only you can answer that. Perhaps I am seeing something that is a non issue and please excuse me if I am focusing on something other than intended or perhaps realized. Maybe I see something that reflects my own life moreso, as you say, co dependents and your kind are forged in similar circumstances. This is perhaps not explained in the best way as I am struggling to relay my thoughts for some reason (too many arising as I write). I have hope that you can be happier than you have ever been. I hope that for us all.

    Thanks for sharing your journey of self reflection, aka as therapy. It is certainly a process, both to approach the gates of our past and psyche and once they are open (particularly when delving into our childhood and youth) to try to feel and observe ourselves and others in order to grow. (Especially when your kind standardly believe that they do not need to 🙂 )
    I think you have done exceptionally well, in fact, perhaps better than most, but it is simply your way..to give 110% and nothing less. (see above post comments as an example of your conditioning…something I can also relate to) Being both a detached observer and allowing ourselves to truly, actually feel ourselves, is something I struggle with. I find it easier to look outward, but we all know by now why that is!
    Your writing skills are very enjoyable. I have been reading your books whenever I have the time. Your ability to articulate, particularly in relation to the personal nature of your writings, accompanied by your charm (believe it or not, it is appreciated greatly by some) keeps the reader both engaged and connected. But, I guess you have the upper hand in some aspects, as it is naturally a skill you possess; however it came about. Despite all your hardships and heartaches you have endured to become the man you are today, all things considered. You should be proud of your achievements. I was reflecting on the overall experiences of your kind and co dependents and I guess If you never taught us what we come to know from our experiences with your kind, we may never be forced to overcome our childhood trauma. If anything you definitely teach us we must honor ourselves and our boundaries. Sometimes I do admire that about your kind and I even aspire to take a leaf out of your book in some aspects, as there is just to much common sense to ignore some of the boundaries you have in place. I may horrify others and amuse you, but I dare say, a mix of your kind and my kind may be the goal for my emotional intelligence to strive for!

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  7. HG Dont let me down as my roll model 😜Im trying also to change the way I interact with others, in a very different way than you but its also a change… Lets go for continuos improvement 😀. I am paid to that so even better if I apply it to my own life.

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  8. H G do long posts hold the same value, or lack thereof, as more than a one page letter to your good self? (As it is your blog after all!) I often wonder if I ramble too much. Hmm.

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    1. You can write as much as you like, I am always interested in what people have written, it is my letter which needs to be succinct. I am often succinct to many of the comments that are made as there are several articulate commentators and besides it saves my fingers and as you know we do like to save our energy!

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  9. I know this probably means nothing, but I’ve been reading your books and I am truly sorry for the pain I know you have had to feel and have to feel at times… Though we are opposites as I am boderline, I wish I knew how to cope as you do. I respect you, and though it may mean something or it may nothing if you ever wanna talk, vent, abuse me or be kind; my email is lady.makaveli71@gmail.com
    If I never hear from you, that’s fine. At least I’ll be one more to remind you I do believe you are a good man. We all are just doing what we gotta do to survive. Respect and love to you, HG.

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  10. The upset over us m being silent…

    My Father before dropping me off at counseling or tutoring would insist I talk and not remain silent as he was spending money because I was not up to participate as it pertained to his unattainable standards.

    If I seriously pissed him off on a Friday I was told to go to my room the entire weekend as he did not want to see me at all (this happened until I moved out at age 15).

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  11. Sounds like my Mother of Hell…

    I remember that devastating impact she had on me. I remember that pain I felt after every interaction with her. “You are the biggest mistake in my life. You shouldn’t have to be born. I thought I had aborted you, you know, but you survived somehow”, she said to me wnen I was 7.

    I’ve never been good enough for her no matter what I did. She was a goddess for me and I was “sleeping” under her spell. But I awoke…

    I realized that our relationship was a game. Chess game. She explained the rules of this game to me and said “You have to win. Prove me you are better than that”…

    And we played, played, played this game, and every time I was a loser. I planned different strategies, different tactics. I tryed my best. But…in vain. No matter what I did I always was a loser.

    I trained myself playing chess with other kids and…I always was a winner! I was amazed how easily I could do that! But, it never was a case with my mother. I always was a loser.

    I tryed to comprehend how is it possible to win, initially having only TWO chess pieces (king and queen) on the chess board against her FULL set of chess pieces? She told me I have to win using only those two chess pieces and it was a rule of that game. Why couldn’t I win? What was wrong with me? Not intelligent enough?

    Yes. Exactly. Not. Intelligent. Enough.

    I was not intelligent enough to understand how dishonest our game was. How dishonest our rules were. Two against Sixteen. Child against Adult. Naivete against Extensive life experience. Wood against Fire…

    Finally, I realized that having only TWO chess pieces, I had no single chance to win. Never. Ever.

    Why did she do that to me, knowing damn well that I would never win?

    And then I realized why. She wanted to be a winner, but she was too weak to play this game with equals. She wanted to be a winner no matter what, every single time, but she was afraid to do it with strong adults. She knew damn well, she would lose.

    The naive child was very easy prey, the absolute guarantee of her victory and she used me for that. She intentionally set the wrong rules for me, securing her future win-win situation. She intentionally deceived me, because she wasn’t a goddess. She was just an ordinary and weak mortal person, who was trying to play god using my naivete and lack of experience. My losses weren’t my fault. I could do nothing in this world to win such dishonest game. I realized that I wasn’t a loser. She was.

    I remember her shocked eyes when I put the full set of my chess pieces on the chess board and asked ”Wanna play?”. That day was the end of the false story about goddess existence. She lost her false power upon me. I didn’t need her false “approval” or “disapproval” anymore. I knew exactly who I was and what I wanted. I wasn’t the naive child anymore. I was the confident and strong adult.

    Our game was over. I won.

    And now, when my son visits her during summer vacation, I always warn her “Don’t dare play your dirty chess game with him. I’m watching you closely. One mistake and I’ll send you to oblivion. You’ll never see him again. You’ll die for him”. She obeys, because she knows her place.

    When I was reading your post, I felt your pain, Tudor. Every damned piece of your pain.

    You are not an evil. You’ve never been the one. You’ve always been “good enough”. Always.

    Your Mother of Hell created that false reality to you to secure her constant victory. She isn’t a goddess. She isn’t a devil. She is just simple mortal person who wants her piece of victory in this life, even if that means she has to sacrifice her own child soul.

    She’s never wanted you to be an equal player, she is afraid of it, because she knows damn well who will be the winner in that case. Not her. You.

    Go and play with her having the full set of chess pieces. And then enjoy your deserved and honest victory. I’m rising my glass of champagne in your honor. You are the best, man.

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  12. This made me cry. A lot.
    HG does your ‘mother’ know about this blog?
    Also, how do your good Doctors feel about your success here? It must make you feel smug to know that something forced upon you had ended up being so successful and a huge advantage to you? Or is it a given that you would find a way to turn the exercise around to suit you?
    Thanks in advance if you choose to answer.

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    1. 1. She does not.
      2. I do not think they know of its success to the extent that they ought to.
      3. I can see why you would think that, I am proud of it and yes it is a given that I would turn the situation around to suit me, albeit I suspect they will argue that it as a win/win scenario.

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      1. “They do not know of its success to the extent they ought to”
        So let me get this straight. They suggested/agreed to your blog yet they don’t follow it? Or at least as much as they should? That boils my piss. (S’cuse my French)
        Yet again sheer arrogance on their part in my opinion. They would learn so much more if they chose to read, or even participate here. But then I guess they don’t need to learn do they, they already know everything there is to know about Cluster B’s and they have their nice silver framed piece of a4 paper on their walls to prove it. Oh and there would be no £’s gained by spending time here reading and researching and LEARNING would there. Time is money!
        You know what HG, we’re not worlds apart you and I. None of us are.

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      2. Hi HG,
        I’m confused by #2. You don’t think the doctors follow the blog as closely anymore? They encouraged it and helped you come up with the 5 rules though. I thought initially it was an integral part of your therapy. Although I can see with how much you’ve had to travel for work the last several months maybe you can’t see them as much and when you do, there’s more pressing topics?

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  13. The difference between an NPD and an empath is pride.

    I went through all these same things. These are bringing back memories. I remember having the conversation with myself in my bedroom at around 8yo. I said “if I attach myself to this problem, I will never leave it.” And I detached from my need for my parents and did not associate them with my identity.

    I watched my dad do as you just did and said “your mother was ill and you need to stop now.” I could see he loved her otherwise why would he react? If he was not attached he wouldn’t react.

    This is why in a lot of your self explanations I think you are a bit deluded. I think you are very attached to your abusers. That energy has totally consumed the narcissist.

    When you are detached there is no need for the anger.

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