We all get a bit mad during our lifetime. No matter what. It is happening to everyone and everywhere all around the world. So many things happen to us, and while we are all a bit similar, events in our lives effect us differently. I have decided to write this memoir to heal. One of the biggest challenge of my life has been to understand why certain things happen, especially when I think about my mother.
We never really had a good relationship. She always finds something bad whatever I was doing, and whatever others did as well. I am really trying to put my past to the back burner, but it has been coming up again and again, so I feel I have been too damaged just to leave this to brew any longer, as my life feels like a stormy ocean, and I am drowning in it.
This Memoir is the story of what has happened. But why is it different to anyone else’s, you might ask. Well, my mother is a Psychopath. She controls everything and everyone in her life, and does it so smoothly; it is believable. Let me tell a story as a little warm up.
This is a funny one, well… maybe wasn’t so funny that time, but it is quite a good one now to tell. It happened 2 years ago in 2018:
I was on a midnight National Express bus, going home from London where I was teaching an aerial acrobatics workshop. It was just an average Sunday night. Sitting on a cramped and smelly cheap public transport. I was reading Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species, when my phone rung. It was my mother and my sister.
–Hi, good evening – just from the tone of voices I knew what was happening. They were having a good old drinking session. Probably gossiping and talking about shit.
–Hi, what is happening? Why are you calling so late? – They never usually call me, so it was a real surprise.
–Well, because you don’t call, you don’t really care about your family. You are just like your father. A son of a bitch.
–Oh, wow! Just like that?
–Yes, just like that. – my world slowly shutting down in these kind of situations, imagine like everything is getting dimmer around your vision, like anger is starting to consume you, but first it feels like you are going to faint, everything is switching off.
– Ok, so I’m a son of a bitch? Why do we always have to go back to this? But just before we continue this conversation. can I ask you a question? Are you drunk? – They stay quiet for a second, then giggle a bit.
– That is non of your business, we are both over 18, and we do whatever we want to do.
-It would just help the situation to know really. – I said this with already a giant stone in my stomach. Trying to confirm something you already know, how silly. But I honestly believed it would have helped at that moment.
–Even if we were drinking, it wouldn’t change on the situation, you are just like your dad, a genetic waste, and idiot nobody. – I think this point the glass was full, because I’ve snapped. It is quite a thing for me. I play the nice person for as long as I can, but when it isn’t fair, I go a bit berserk and reflect on the other person. Like trying to top their level of selfishness. This always happens without much thinking of any outcomes or consequences.
– OK, both of you listen to me now. It has passed midnight here, and I have been working constantly the past few weeks. I am tired, and I am also tired of this. You are calling dad and me idiots, but neither of you have a basic idea of studying nor ever finished a school.
–And you are a heartless cunt, dickhead! You and your father, same genes, same shit. -So far my mother has been the main spokes person, Rita has been just reassuring with yeses and repeating the end of the sentences like an echo.
– Also coming from this gene thing. It is not how it work. Funny that I was just reading about this in the book I am holding in my hand. Because I like to study, learn and know things.
–Oh shut the fuck up, it doesn’t matter how clever you are, it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t care, you don’t have a heart. – That was a quick shut down, what can I say to this?
–Please stop saying this! I do care, I care about everyone and everything. – The thing is that since 2007 when I moved away from Hungary, I have called my family almost every couple of weeks, but at least a few times a month, catching up with everyone. They never called me, no Christmas or any celebrations, even birthday texts were weeks late. Happy Birthday in August. The only time my family calls me, when they are either drunk or want something, or just want to be nasty to me. Wonder if it is the same with them. Do they call each other up and tell mean things? My brother definitely calls people up pissed ”Hey dude, hows it goin? Ahh remember Ákos? ÁKOS!!! Come its Bucó” – then he passes you on to talk to one of his friends, who you don’t actually know. This happens because he doesn’t know how to speak with his family, not just because he can’t in his drunken state, but probably because he is damaged as well from everything happened in our childhood.
– Well you still don’t care, so fuck you!
– NO, FUCK YOU! Both of you! Messing me up again! I will hang up now, it is late and I need to clear my head, as I am going to need to sleep and go to work in five hours time. I will call you both back.
-Ok, Bye, Ciao

I did hang up. My mind was swirling. Dark and wet night in Cardiff. Walking home towards Canton, pulling my giant orange suite case with all my ropes in it. Why does my family have to be so fucked up?
Managed to sleep a bit, but next day at work I had to tell someone. Telling the boys what happened, did help a bit. Both of them are proper lads, but with a huge heart. So it was great getting all the support and of course the banter afterwards.
I was thinking how to approach this phone call, how do you prepare yourself to something like this? I am not always giving an ultimatum to people, but I have been doing it to shield and protect myself. Is this some kind of survival instinct or something? Who knows? But I decided to speak with everyone and if we don’t get anywhere, I need to give up on my family. I did wait another day to give myself and them time.
Wednesday after work, I called my mother first:
–Hi – trying my best professional but still interested voice tone. The one like good sales people have.
–Hiiiiii, How are you lovely? – I should have known, like nothing happened.
– Well, after you and Rita’s phone call on Sunday. I feel a bit messed up and emotional.
– Oh why? I can’t remember what we talked about. – OH MY GOD! She can’t pull this card!
–You called me to tell me that I am a heartless son of a bitch. We also talked about how much I don’t care about the family and a few other bits. Things what really hurts me mum, it didn’t feel good. Especially ganging up on me with Rita.
– We didn’t gang up against you, but I really don’t think we said all this.
– Do you think I just imagined all this?
– Like you imagine lot of things. – this has been another ongoing problem with us.
– Mum, why do you always try to blame others. when you are the one who actually needs help!
– You see! You are heartless – She starts to cry, always cries. This called Victim Mentality, but she is also manipulative, so maybe she just wants me to believe she has victim mentality. – WHY DO YOU HATE ME? What did I do to you? Even if you don’t want, I am your mother you little shit.
– Sorry mum, I am not into these games today. I will call you after I spoke with everyone else. – I hanged up.

The next person on my list was Rita, my sister. Who played a very similar game. She didn’t remember. Although when I’ve asked certain things like:
– So you didn’t say that your son, my nephew Levi is so similar to me, he is heartless and he hates you?
–Yes, he hates me and yes he is very much like you. The same personality, almost like he is a little you!
– So do you remember this? – I asked hoping for a final confession, as I am already utterly sad about my nephew growing up in a similar situation as we did.
The answer: – No –
– Ok, I’m sorry but you are playing the same psycho games as Mum. Rita I am really sorry but do not contact me from now on. I am tired of having a fucked up family and trying to figure out what I did to both of you, but it is a hopeless circle. We been playing this for over 20 years now! Can’t believe you are not tired of these emotional games. I had enough. Bye for now.

– Hanged up – felt empty. Like a skeleton sitting in the middle of a woodland. Everything goes through his emptiness. Sunshine, wind, ivy and bugs. I have lost so many people in my life forever without anyone asking if they can go, and now. Now I had to actually decide on this. Of course I know them too well, and they will message me at some point. I had to snap out of this tho, life carries on and I am still alive, just a bit fucked, but at least alive, right? Also I still had to find out the truth.
There was two more people to call. Spoke to dad, he was trying to ease the situation by telling me stupid dad jokes. It didn’t help but he is so funny sometimes. I mean he is such a typical ”I am a MAN, I deal with things by drinking alcohol and say it is ok” but lets just leave this here. It was nice to talk to him, but he is super fucked as well, we will get back to how many crazy stuff they did together. It was nice to talk to him and listen to the endless supply of his silliness.

The last person I wanted to call was a mutual ally. A person who is and has been an ally in between the family. My cousin Viki. She is my favourite person in the family, she is more my sister than any of my siblings really. She is also the foster daughter of mum. Viki lost her dad in her late twenties and mum was helping her going through the grief by giving her a room in their house. Their house as hers and my step dads. Viki was always as diplomatic and balanced as ever. Our conversation did not go far tho’.
– I haven’t spoken to your mum for a couple of months now.
– Why? What happened?
– Did they not tell you?
– No, come on Viki. You know me, I don’t play their game. – I am always surprised that people don’t take me granted in certain things, and this is one of them. I have always been the black sheep, so why would I follow their footsteps now?
–Maybe you should wait until they tell you.
-Or maybe You can just tell me?
– No, I don’t think I can. – She said in a very neutral voice.
– Ok, well I will call mum one more time.

I did, this was the outcome from another couple of calls to Viki and my mother too.

In the end of August Sanyi, my step-dad was having a small birthday party. Viki realised, Mum, Sanyi and Rita disappeared into the shed. They were having an argument.
– What’s the matter? Why are you arguing? – Viki asked
– Tell her, tell her! – Mum is shouting at Sanyi – Tell her why?!
– Me? – Viki is looking around confused, she only just arrived to the shed – Tell me what?
– FUCKING TELL HER!
– I am in love with you – Sanyi said. I can imagine him being closed in, sitting in his shed, while everyone else is shouting at him. He is always like this. Geeky introvert type guy.
– Very, funny – Viki trying to figure out what is actually happening.
– Is it? Do you think this is funny? – Mum probably haven’t plan this, and when something doesn’t go the way she wants she explodes.
– It is a joke, right? – Viki again hoping.
– No, I am in love with you.
– But you are like my father – She is sad and confused, but doesn’t have much time as Mum ignites and boom:
– You fucking bitch, you take my husband from me?! You have been planning this the whole fucking time! You come here as poor little Viki and then steal my man. Being around naked, showing your tits. Shaving your vagina front of him. Did you already fuck him as well? Did you?
– Are you two are actually serious? My boyfriend is out here, I don’t find Sanyi attractive in any ways. He is my father, and you are my mother. I don’t know what is going on.

Well, and the story for me ended here. Sanyi wanted to divorce, but mum managed to corner him with a lawyer about being married and separating all personal property and real estate. You will see in time, that Mum didn’t have anything really. Bloody clever! Marry a soldier, slowly break him with her psycho games. He is pretty much her toy boy, a submissive husband, and nothing is wrong with that if he wants to be. I guess all the big bloody soldier need some fragile time. I did tell all this to my mother on the phone. She is very abusing, and I had enough. Sanyi built a shed quite a while back, eventually it became his man cave. Listening to music, getting drunk alone. An escape from all the fucked up shit my mum does to him.
– Imagine how would you feel? He doesn’t treat me like a woman. He doesn’t make love to me, he doesn’t tell me he loves me… – This was the answer, another ”I am the victim here”
– Well there is a reason for this mum, and you always play that everything is against you. You need to go and see a councillor, a specialist. Seriously it is not a shame. –
Then she cries and cries. Telling me I don’t understand, not because I am gay, but because I hate her and I hate woman.
–I don’t hate you and I don’t hate anyone mum. Being gay doesn’t mean I hate woman either. It means that I am not sexually attracted to them, it is a very big difference. – but try to explain this to someone who has a disfigured reality in a messed up country.
– You see, you hate me!
It was going on and on, but because it was the ultimatum already, I told her, just like to Rita, not to call or contact me in any ways.

My heart is still broken, but I cannot let anyone destroy not just me but others as well. I feel like it has been effecting me more lately. Suppressing this for many years now.
Lets << rewind to the beginning and start the story of how to survive a psychopath mother.