Mom as Toxin, Mom as Irritant

Mom as a toxin, mom as an irritant.

The Impact of Mom on Mental Health

In therapy, we talk about mom regardless of the patient’s age or how long they’ve been in therapy. There are even educational themes titled “Mom as Destiny,” with definitions like “when I don’t accept that my mom didn’t love me, I will express that pain through my body.” But how can one accept that a mother didn’t love them? The psyche simply cannot process such emotions. I’d even say it’s impossible to fully realize. Mom is a central figure, a mold in life, manifesting in various unconscious internal expressions, directives, and instructions on how to live. She also appears as a symptom—psychosomatic, physical, emotional, or behavioral. And the way the inner mother manifests changes with age.

In the language of therapy and the patient: “We have different parents. Not because they are different people, but because their treatment of us differs. Toward my sister (or brother), it’s kind, loving, attentive. Toward me, it’s with anger, aggression, devaluation, and rage. Yes, she’s the same woman, but not the same mother, because her attitude toward her own children varies.”

Many patients—and even those who don’t attend therapy—are familiar with this topic. The relationship with mom is deeply painful. The patient idealizes their mother, and when therapy shatters that idealization, it terrifies them. They begin to feel guilt, shame for speaking ill of their mother. It scares them to realize they can see their own mother in a way they never wanted to. Uttering the words, “My mom isn’t as good as I once thought,” brings sorrow, loneliness, anger, and denial. The realization that there was never a close connection with someone as close as a mother is disappointing, infuriating, and fills one with permanent sadness, loneliness, and a quiet drain on your life force. And yet, in adulthood, one child may still be recognized and overvalued by mom, while another is devalued and disdained. And if the latter doesn’t meet mom’s expectations, she remains distant and inaccessible.

Psychosomatic Manifestations and Personality Splitting

I’ve already written about the “white spots”—the empty spaces in the psyche—where, due to a traumatic relationship with mom, the psyche suppresses events. In their place, a self-image forms: feelings of guilt, unworthiness, valuelessness, inferiority, stupidity. One might even feel as if they’re falling apart, losing track of time, or not understanding what’s happening to them. When communicating with subjectively authoritative figures (those the psyche associates with mom), one might regress to a childlike state—disoriented, unsure of how to respond, or what’s happening to them. A broken connection with mom can manifest as literal illnesses in the body: internal tumors, where removal brings temporary relief, but soon, psychosomatic helplessness, longing, sadness, and loneliness return. And these unloved children are often the first to respond to mom’s calls for help, caring for her until death, while the inheritance goes to the favored children.

The symptoms tied to mom are severe: stomach ulcers, Crohn’s disease, epilepsy (autoimmune diseases), anxiety disorders with tension, insomnia, gastrointestinal disorders, IBS, addictive behaviors, panic attacks, choking sensations, chronic cough, love for money, OCD, sexual dysfunction, apathy, depression, phobias, inability to understand one’s desires, helplessness, skin diseases, cardiovascular diseases, borderline disorders, and more. I’ve had to work through all these and other symptoms with patients in therapy. Another critical point is when a child is accepted only partially—for example: “I accept you when you work, when you’re at home in the garden, but not otherwise.” When a child is accepted only in part, splitting occurs. A lifetime can be spent trying to pull oneself together, to gather the torn pieces. As long as one can still piece themselves together, the body may endure countless serious illnesses. And it may even recover. Therapy is difficult because in therapy, we gather the broken parts of the patient, but the patient returns home, and mom continues to dissolve them. Her words may vary:

• “The psychotherapist is just scamming you.”
• “How much longer will you keep going to therapy? You could’ve bought a car with that money by now.” (Yes, a car could be bought, but when panic attacks strike multiple times a day, along with constant anxiety, digestive disorders, fear, and more—would the patient even be able to use that car? This also touches on deeper patterns of a mother’s borderline structure, where mental health is not prioritized—it’s dismissed as unimportant. The reason may be that mom herself is afraid to look into her own psyche.)
• Criticism of the child’s state: “Enough already!”—which is also a violation of boundaries.
• An indirect prohibition on marriage: “But who will take care of me? You’re only here to take care of me.”
• Endless criticism of the already adult child’s state—and if this criticism exists in adulthood, it was likely present throughout the patient’s entire life.

Challenges and Prospects of Therapy

We work, we work for years. And this work is hard—for both the patient and the therapist. Working on the surface is much easier; delving into the depths is difficult.

The only consolation is this: mom’s directives on how to live become conscious, feelings are expressed and processed, broken parts are integrated, the personality heals and structures itself. Energy for life returns, psychosomatic symptoms weaken, anxiety decreases, sleep improves, and life feels clearer and more constructive. We learn to distinguish mom’s voice inside from our own. We learn to protect ourselves internally from mom’s destructive directives (this is about internal boundaries). Perspectives appear, and literal changes occur. And then, buying a car is finally the right move. 😊

Tetiana Pelekh – psychotherapist.

Respectfully yours.