yes constantly eye-rolling, sighing, just being joyless. Really gave off the vibe of how little she liked our company, and how resentful she was of us disturbing her need to be alone.
she definitely liked her children “silent, asleep, somewhere else”
How did it impact- well I married someone who reacted the same way to me in the hope I could get that love from another source, and in doing so subjected my children to another generation of it, with a man’s anger added. At least I could divorce him, and recognize his brokenness.
I thought all mothers were like that, and it was a revelation to see that other families had fun- weren’t on edge, constantly scanning for the next line of attack. I remember someone saying the word home with such warmth and longing. It still makes me cry to thing of how she said it. The truth is we lived in a house, but we didn’t live in a home.
She is frail and elderly now, and obviously we can’t actually talk about it, the truth is I’ve never really had a conversation with my mother- because she is scanning for anything that might be embarrassing/ cringe/the wrong thing to say/any other of a million ways in which the content can be avoided. So we keep it at the banalities- she can only cope with that level, everything else is rubbished because that’s her coping mechanism.
The damage was certainly in place by the time I was five- the thought there might be play-dates or inviting people home was completely laughable even by the time I started school. By 8 I was well trained to see her poorly contained resentment as a sign of my own worthless.
so yes, deep seated fucked up-ness.
Is it fixable: that’s up to you.