The Mother Wound

My Mother Wound

"Everything that does not rise into consciousness comes back as destiny" -Carl Jung

This is what I am constantly working on- the idea of unconscious stress. My body is sending me SOS signals through my internal body organs, the discomfort, pain and dis-ease. All roads lead to my mother. 

My mother wound.

I am lost in the how. Is it talking more about how she made me feel? Or discovering repressed emotions about her? She's had such a big domino effect in my life- real ripple effect into my spheres of influence. She's like a cancer- pervasive and insidious. No one stops her. She is this unstoppable force that brings toxicity to the people around her (i.e. family). The pressure...the manipulation... the secrets...the lies. The other part of her duality is that she means well, is caring, generous, (I'm not sure if loving- I don't know if she feels unconditional love since she's never been taught this or sought this out for herself). There's goodness in the midst of badness. 

All of this has been incredibly difficult to accept. As a young child, I felt her wrath, her energy of abuse, but I still wanted her. I still felt that unconditional child-like love towards her. The kind of love that is young, innocent, and natural. I wanted her to see me, to feel me, to nurture me, to hear me, to serve me as a loving mother would. To protect me and to keep me safe. That never came and with time, the waiting game ended just like my unconditional child-like love for her disappeared into the essence of time and space. Or into my subconscious, who knows? I do not feel the love for her in my body. The anger set in at a pretty young age because I could not take anymore the stress and chaos of my house environment. As the matriarch, she played the biggest role, one of the primary roles into the environmental toxicity that I was breathing. Her energy was corrosive and still lingers inside me. 

This is my mother wound.

It was fucking heavy to be her child. Instead of the peaceful childhood years, I instead found myself drowning. Gasping for motherfucking air. I could not breathe fully, deeply, peacefully for most of my life. I could only take breaths that anchored me to surviving. Survival-mode. The stay alive motto. FEAR. Trust no one since the one person I should trust with my life failed me. Abandoned me. Chose her demons over her pure-lighted child. Trust so broken, I couldn't even trust myself.

So this is what I am working with. This imprint, this biology that I am ready to release physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. On every level. Ready to live through my own higher self -> she is far more powerful than any pain or past. It is a slow discovery, a slow process, one that has elevated the word patience as my new best friend in life. It's taken me time to meet this part of myself and I am only in the discovery phase. And yet, while my trust has been something I've learned to stitch together, my heart knows that I need to trust exactly where I am and to just let it be. Let me be. This, I suppose, is how I'm to heal my mother wound. To finally let me be the person she could not love fully. Because her incapacity to love me had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her own mother wounds. I am on the path of releasing myself from this dynamic, this story, so that I can re-write my own. Not from a place of wound and instead from a place of love.  

This is my mother wound.

What is your mother wound?