As part of our ongoing journal project, here is our next journal question.
Question #2: When you were a little girl how did you comfort yourself when you were sad or confused? How do you self-comfort yourself now that you’re an adult?
I used all the normal coping mechanisms that come naturally to kids and then some. I played games (board and street), organized strange kid clubs of short, intense duration, spied on adults, and made prank phone calls usually to teen-aged girls with crushes on my big brother. I’d tell them that he loved them setting who-knows-what into motion.
I spent entire days racing around on white roller skates with metal wheels that I wore down to tin foil on fire.
As a neglected and abused child it never occurred to me to speak to an adult about my home life.
Our childhood experiences echo through our adult lives. I still find it most difficult to ask for any sort of help.
When I was a young woman I used to just observe and compare: This is how this family does Thanksgiving, which is very different from what I remember. Hmmmmm….
I was secretive and ashamed about my unhealthy relationship with my mother. As I matured my odd, hurtful, intense ways of coping morphed into more open, sane – and even happy – forms of coping.
I’ve always had food issues. I was never fed properly, so I yearned for generous portions and forbidden foods. I am overweight mainly due to anxious eating and continue to work with a nutritionist to improve my food choices and eating habits.
As I’ve matured, I’ve coped with the lifelong fall-out of toxic parenting by speaking frankly about my experiences with my husband and close friends. I benefitted from time with a therapist. I was a newspaper reporter when I began writing about toxic moms and how to survive them.
I’m not dashing away from my problems like a confused child. I’ve chosen focus, frankness and a willingness to open my heart. I believe in embracing and owning my life story.
I still wait too long to ask for help or a hug, but I’m getting better. My life is a marathon, not a sprint. Along the way I hope by example I can help other children of toxic moms who choose to lead happy and sane lives.
Toxic Mom Toolkit 
Being more of an introvert, I preferred solitary escape in the world of make believe with my dolls and adventures pretending I was another character. As I got older I took comfort in reading, writing, movies and drawing. I loved playing piano (by ear, never did well with lessons) but only when no one else was around to listen and judge.
My mother forced me to begin piano lessons when I was 12 or 13. It was very stressful. It didn’t help that every clinker note inspired laughter by my step-father, the alcoholic wife beater. I love music. I have a lovely voice. But that experience ruined playing an instrument for me. I should probably revisit that. I recently wrote a country western song – so I know that drive is still in there seeking expression!
Oh, those piano lessons! *shudder* Mine started around age 7 and were not going very well, so mother thought if she had a piano teacher come to the house, I would do better. WRONG! When I would hit a clinker note, mother would walk by and give me the icy stare of disapproval, or wait until afterwards and critique my performance. Yeah, that helped a lot. My alcoholic dad was passive (he had no choice) and was actually complimentary when I played something well. To this day, I can’t play in front of other people. I have to wait until I’m alone to play.
I should mention that I’m an animal lover so I took comfort in my dogs while growing up, too. Now I have my houseful of animals to comfort me!
Please continue your musical outlet! They can no longer quiet your musical voice.