In Which There Were Headaches

Real life stories about a mother with a headache

My mother had headaches rather frequently. I don't know if it was due to a medical condition, her being prone to anxiety and worry, or because she liked to make life seem much more stressful than it actually is, but it happened a lot. And when she got a headache, logic and reason kind of flew out the window.

The earliest occasion I can remember of her flying off the handle during a headache was when I was maybe five years old. It was a beautiful spring day, but mom's headache meant we had to stay inside because she didn't want to be in the sun. My sister and I had attempted to waste the day away watching "Muppet Babies" and other cartoons, but kids are energetic when the weather is nice, and soon enough we were playing with our toys and having a really good time. We were having such a good time that we didn't realize we were getting a little loud, but a shout from our mother told us we needed to calm down.

Well, that turned out to be harder than it seemed as we were very young and having a very large amount of fun. After being screamed at two more times she finally told us go to our room until our father came home from work so he could deal with us. We were crestfallen, but we obediently sulked off to our room. A second before we closed the door, our dad walked through the front door and we immediately ran out of our rooms shouting with glee. My mother was furious and actually yelled at my dad about coming home just then, even though it was the same time he always came home.


The second incident is a tad uglier. It was Mother's Day, and we were supposed to be going over to some grandparent's house to give our grandmother tulips (that was sort of a Mother's Day tradition for us). But we had just had an awesome breakfast, and it was a beautiful day again, and my sister and I decided that we would rather play than get in the shower so we could go. My mother kept telling us over and over to get in the shower, to which we would reply "okay!" and continue playing. Eventually she got fed up with us and screamed "If you don't get in the shower right now, I am LEAVING and you won't HAVE a mother anymore!"

Imagine you're seven years old and your mother has just threatened you with abandonment on Mother's Day, and since you're a clever child you realize that threatening to leave your children on a day where you're supposed to celebrate being a mother is an especially bad thing. Imagine how hard you and your hypothetical younger sister might cry about it. Imagine how much you might beg and plead her not to leave, how hard you might show her that you're both racing to get into the shower so she'll be happy again. Now imagine that, rather than comforting you and fixing her mistake, your mother just says "Get moving!" and walks away, leaving you to wonder if she's changed her mind about leaving you or not.


Then move on to reading the worst of all. Guess who had a headache? And guess which children were enjoying each others company? This time it was in the car. We were driving back home from somewhere a little late at night. My sister and I were in the backseat having fun with jokes and riddles and those hand slapping games little girls always seem to play. It was a lot of fun and making the somewhat long car ride a lot less boring. My mother kept asking us to be quiet and sit still, but it's hard to make children stop having fun when they are clearly having fun. After appealing to our father to tell us to stop didn't work, one of the most magical scenes of my childhood played out.

"Stop the car. Pull over!" My mother shouted.

My father did as commanded. My mother turned around and looked at us.

"Get out."

What?

"GET. OUT."

We slowly unbuckled our seat belts and got out of the car, expecting we were about to be spanked. No adults moved. We were standing on the shoulder of the highway at night while our parents sat in the car. My mother rolled down her window.

"If you two don't behave, we are leaving you here."

The tears were pretty much instant at that point. We begged, we pleaded. We'll be good! We'll be quiet! We'll listen! Don't leave us!

I really don't know how it would have played out in the end of the highway patrolman hadn't pulled up behind the car to see what was going on. I don't know what excuse my suddenly extremely embarrassed mother gave him that made him leave, but as she rushed us back into the car she made it very clear she blamed us for making her look like a bad mother.

To this day she swears she learned the threatening abandonment on the side of the highway technique from a parenting class, and it wasn't actually her being an irrational and bad mother. I wouldn't honestly know if she'd ever actually been to a parenting class, but I'm guessing there are very few that would recommend such a technique. I can't imagine a so-called parenting expert saying "Threatening abandonment is a perfectly valid form of punishment. No one has ever developed issues from feeling abandoned or unwanted."

I also fully believe that the harsh punishment we always seemed to receive when my sister and I were actually playing together and enjoying each others company is why I ended up hating her and never wanting to be around her for the rest of my childhood and teenage life.

Reviews

[f1rstperson]

I don't know if this counts for anything, but my parents have done that too on a highway. They never took parenting classes, and it is just the shittiest feeling to watch them drive off.

I think this is an interesting profile of your mother; how when she directs her anger and punishment at you or your sister, it isn't because you have done something wrong but for her own selfish comfort.

I really like what you did with the second story you told; making the reader put themselves in your place, it was a very good technique for relating just how horrible of an event it was. But I think perhaps I would like to see more of how it felt in your head for the first two stories. What was it like walking to your room? You say crestfallen, but I want to know more? Were you almost about to cry or were you angry or did your energy just go away?

And in the third one what was it like when you mom told you to get out? You were crying, were you horrified? Could you think or were the emotions just too much? Stuff like that.