December 21, 2019 My Final Visit

As my visits always are, I did a surprise visit to see mom, as I was visiting my sister that same weekend. 

And as was often the case, when either I'd call or show up, mom would say she was just thinking of me. In this case, as I walked in, she was getting off the phone leaving a voicemail for me.

The visit was pleasant enough, and I stayed longer than anticipated. 

I brought a bag of different teas, some cookies, and a tub of coconut body butter for her, thinking it'd all perk her up.

The downside to her usual countenance always was that it was hard to tell if she was enjoying herself or not, as she always looked sad or had a look of silent resignation on her face.

She admitted she was fighting off some bug, but wasn't evident to me.

As always, I was guarded with what I said to her, nothing about anyone we're related to, and I was always mindful not to be too happy with sharing details of the Maharajah, or our travels, or his family, because anything could be used against me behind my back to others.

That being said, it wasn't an unpleasant visit. 

22

22 Days since the last time I called mom. And of course the last time I called, it played out exactly as my half-assed flow chart:

I call, and she rushes me off the phone, then calls me back thinking I have all the time in the world for this nonsense. 

Problems arise of course when she catches me off guard, and I have to make an excuse not to be available for a time when it is more convenient for her. In this case, I blurted out I was taking M to urgent care--note: urgent care to me is not the same thing as going to an Emergency Room at a hospital--urgent care is a walk in clinic. 

Problems compound themselves because she then gets her sister involved in running interference/meddling because I haven't called mom back regarding M's situation which was not life or death. He had pink eye. 

So this caused me to put my aunt in her place YET AGAIN, and let her know that her meddling is not welcome, and if she wants to reach out to me to talk to ME, that's great. But if she wants to reach out to me to meddle between me and my mother, then I'd just assume receive nothing but silence from her. 

What IS evident to me is one of two scenarios: Either she does not realize what she is doing is unwelcome or meddling; Or, she knows exactly what she's doing and doesn't give a shit about me and my feelings. In either scenario, I have neither the time nor energy to expend on making others feel more comfortable when it's clear by their actions (both, mom's and my aunt's) that they don't give a shit about MY feelings. Neither of them are adding anything loving or supportive to my life, and the more either of them push, the more I am digging my heels in and resisting.

Anyway, it's been 22 days, and in that time she called me back moments later, then called me back two weeks later, then again two days ago, and YET AGAIN yesterday. And to all this, I say SO WHAT?   

The telephone calls, the excessive ones to me, as well as the call she made to my aunt to get involved, were not about expressing concern about M's health--because let's face it, they couldn't care less about him (or me, for that matter), but it's all about control and access and manipulation. 

16

I stuck to my original plan as outlined in the previous blog post, wherein if I were to call, I'd call on the 17th, as I was getting together with my sister on the 18th, and I was going to be in NYC for appointments on the 19th, which was also my bday, and I'd spend the rest of the day trying to enjoy myself.

I was out running errands and had a hot moment in between errands and called, and of course, my timing sucks, and she was on the shitter waiting for her CNA to help hoist her off the commode. Perfect timing! The call was quick and I was in a hurry and said, that I better get going then, and not before she asked if I got her card.

I replied, "No. I didn't get it." Which isn't necessarily a lie, because if you want to get SPECIFIC, she didn't send me a CARD. And not trusting what I said, she replied back, "But your aunt got hers!" Well, she may have sent both on the same day; however, my aunt and I live at two different addresses, in two different states! It's entirely plausible shit gets lost in transit!  I wasn't going to fight it, but decided to have her second-guessing HERSELF for a change.

And of course, on my actual birthday, SHE called, and thankfully I have my communication choke point in place, because of course, she called right when I was at one of my two doctor appointments. 

And no, I did not call her back. 

She's tried calling me at the house several times after, and each time, it fills me with glee, because we see the number come in on the caller ID, and then POOF! The call disconnects! BEST. DECISION. EVER.

She calls when she feels like it, on HER timetable, yet outright refuses to empty her voicemail so other people can call and leave a quick message. Instead, she's created her own communications choke point, wherein everyone who calls but is unable to leave a message is immediately vilified. Whatever. 

I have given up hoping for a moment of reckoning, a moment where she realizes all this wasted time and energy on negativity. I have given up on hoping one day she'd love me the way a mother should love their kid--love them the way they need to be loved. But that will never happen. I have accepted this. However, what I refuse to accept is her attempting to make any demands on me whatsoever, considering that for so much of my formative years, she was emotionally and physically unavailable to me--abandoning me (as well as my siblings), as well as being a huge factor in my failure life trap.

After nine years in therapy with my previous therapist, and nine months with my current one, after all the self-help books I've read, after all the affirmations and mantras I've recited, nothing is making any of this "okay," much less disappear. It happened and it was awful, and I am steadfast in my resolve to try to curtail as much as I can having normal or loving impulses in regards to someone who has neither been normal nor loving towards me. 
 

56

Current # of days (in this round of going NC) w/my NM: 56 days.

Some of this might be redundant, as I think I’ve shared elements in other threads, but wanted to share what’s going on.

The last time I spoke with mom, she hung up on me 4x in a 12 minute chat (at first I thought she was just “fat fingering” her cell phone, but by the 4th hang up, I gave up calling her back).

In the interim, my busybody aunt let my NM know that my sister and I have been speaking for the last 2 years. (Though this now is a matter of debate.) This was none of my aunt’s business, nor my NM’s, and the entire reason my sister and I stopped speaking was because of NM’s constant interference. Within a day of NM finding this info out, she left a deceptively cheerful VM on my answering machine (of which I haven’t responded to it), too cheerful, but not letting on that she knew sis & I are speaking--but let’s face it, we know she KNOWS.

It’s been about a month since her VM and all she’s gotten from me is silence. And since she hasn’t gotten what she wants from me (attention, when she wants it), she’s decided to weaponize my birthday. Despite the fact my birthday is on the 19th, she sent me a hand written note conveying bday wishes, which I received on the 8th. This, too, has gone without response on my end, as it’s all a ploy for interaction--and then on my actual birthday, which is the 19th, there will be more of the same attempts at forced interaction--her making my day all about her.

Additionally, the envelope was addressed so convoluted, I’m honestly surprised the USPS delivered it:

MRS. (I’m a Ms.) Maven My-Maiden Name (WTF?)
1234 Name of my town
Name of my street
NY, NY (<<< Not my town) my-zip

Additionally, curiously, the entirety of the note was written in past tense.

Last year, there were 2 calls on the 18th, one of bday wishes, and the next immediately following, an apology that she called on the wrong day. Then there were THREE calls on the 19th. And another call on the 22nd, inquiring if I got the card she sent.

Of course, this is just making me anxious. To me, this is worse than death. Or it IS like a death, but where your tormentor in life decides to haunt your ass after they die.

I’d just rather wait things out until she dies, but damn it, modern medicine will see to it she outlives us all, Shady Pines or no Shady Pines. But the anxiety and uncertainty is getting to me. I’m actually considering calling her on the 17th, just to get it over with.
I chose the 17th because my sister and I are getting together for a bday lunch on the 18th; and the 19th I have appointments in NYC and want my day unfettered.

If/when I DO call, I’ll act as if I haven’t heard from her, that I’m having problems with my voicemail (just like how she refuses to empty her voicemail box so others can leave messages), and will dummy up about receiving the letter and gaslight her. And if she attempts to mention the fact I’ve been speaking with my sister, I plan on informing her that the topic is off limits and if she chooses to push the topic, she’ll be starting a fight with me. (And of course, I’ll hang up on her.)

On a related note, I’m trying to work through my anger and resentment issues I have (in CBT). It’s hard. All my life I’ve repressed most of my feelings as a result of negative reinforcement. So for me to think or even FEEL my feelings is challenging (and stressful) for me.

I wish I were able to just “let go” of it all, or accept any of this, and be able to move on, and use the headspace for something more productive than being a storage unit for this psychological warfare.

Unfortunate By-Products

I spent nine long years with a therapist who didn't help me move forward, and move beyond my traumas. For the last seven months, I've been with a therapist who does CBT. And TBH, while I do HOPE that I can move past everything, I do worry.

One of the unfortunate by-products of my upbringing is that it truly has shut me down emotionally. Anything that is challenging, painful, or fearful, I just shut down. I lack coping mechanisms necessary to move me forward and past these obstacles. As a result, I take things entirely too personally, and I am pretty quick to just cut-and-run. And if I cannot physically run away, I will insulate and isolate myself from the situations and people that activate me. 

A half century of this has made me reluctant to speak up on my own behalf, and without fail, when I have verbally articulated how I felt, it always ends poorly, regardless of how diplomatic I am in addressing it.

A half century of not acknowledging and feeling my feelings. Metaphorically, I fold everything up to the 16th fold, compress it all tightly, and jam it into a part of my psyche that doesn't get accessed. 

On an upnote, I haven't felt fearful or truly sad in a long time. On the downside, I have a lot of unresolved anger and resentments that manifest in indirect ways (i.e. insomnia, anxiety attacks, hypertension, hypersensitivity).

A lot of my own coping mechanism or conflict resolution has been to just simply "play to my strengths" and overcompensate in other ways to just remain functional. This has worked, TO A POINT.

Anger (and misery) can be great catalysts for change, and has served me well--TO A POINT. I just continue to make the best decisions I can based on the time and information available at any given point in time. 

I have neither run out of time nor choices to make, so I think I'm doing okay "enough," however, there comes a point where I realize how much more work I need to do, and I don't have a clear enough plan, and I get overwhelmed and paralyzed, and you guessed it, I get even more angry at myself. 

Most people are familiar with WWJD? I'll casually ask myself WWMD? (What would mom do?) And then I do the direct opposite; however, this cut-and-run (and shunning and isolating) is something she does. And you guessed it: I get even more angry at myself (and I keep ruminating). 

Despite my conscious decision several months back, wherein I decided I wasn't going to over-concern myself with how my words and deeds impact others' feelings, when it's clear by their words and their deeds, they have zero regard for my feelings, I still find myself having (what I feel IS logical) attachment and expectation for a certain standard of interaction--for instance, courtesy and communication.  

Currently, I have been processing the casual cruelty and jealousy of someone who I have considered a friend for the past 17 years. The last two months have involved me soaking in a lukewarm pond of discomfort, and I am still processing emotions beyond shock and hurt, and have evolved onto externalizing feelings of betrayal, and internalized criticizing my own judgment--how could I have been so wrong?
 I am left wondering so many residual things, I do not know which end is up, and what reality IS in regards to this person:

1. Were my standards that low 17 years ago?
2. Did I evolve THAT much in 17 years with all the self help & therapy?
3. Was she always this jealous and carelessly cruel?  
4. Did she regress this much in 17 years or was she always just slogging along?
5. Was this actually, merely a "friendly workplace acquaintance" which I blew out of proportion?

Her patented statement is, "It's not that deep." Well, yes, that may be so, unless of course, you're like me, and you're a deep thinker, in which case IT IS ALL QUITE DEEP. 

There is this obvious philosophical divide, both of us at polar opposite ends of the spectrum. This in turn makes me come to the conclusion that if she's been saying this for years, she's been putting her point of view right out there in the open, that she is operating at a very shallow level. 

When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time
--Maya Angelou

Granted, she's shown me repeatedly in the past 17 years who she is. I feel like I am fully aware now, and trust me, I now know what I am dealing with. I'm disgusted with her, and myself, but I am looking at this as an opportunity for growth, and I'm establishing boundaries. Eventually, I'll go into auto-pilot mode with my new boundaries and have a new routine that doesn't involve her and all will be great. Meanwhile, she hasn't acknowledged that anything has changed--I guess because I only exist when she wants me to exist. And that's okay (for her). I've got useful shit to do with my time. 

This has undermined who I thought I was in regards to her. In turn, it has made me realize what I am to her: a distraction to get through the day--some cheap and easy laughs to break up the monotony. Laughing at my painfully absurd (or is it, absurdly painful?) personal stories.

Whereas I have wanted to help her with the things I know I can help her with, and want good things for her that she doesn't want for herself--she is jealous of the good things in my life, and seems resentful that I'm not suffering the way she's suffering. 

All life is suffering--it's inescapable, but, I try to make good choices to minimize what suffering I can. And she, just like my mom, chooses to do nothing and resents me because I've been strong or resilient enough to just keep making choices.

I don't feel loved or supported. I don't feel important or interesting. Couple that up with the lack of courtesy or communication (also another Hallmark of mom--I only exist when she wants me to exist). It's so circuitous and familiar. 

I've shut down emotionally (towards her) and I'm making myself more and more unavailable to her.

Little did I realize these little things I do in my life dovetail nicely with the Buddhist dharma: If you can help, HELP; and if you can't help, then don't be cruel.

Now if only I would cease to be cruel to myself and finally be able to accept things. I doubt I'll ever get to the point of forgiving those who have wronged me, but I want to be able to just LET GO--and it isn't as simple as saying JUST LET GO. I have lived a half a century as a ruminator--this is my greatest challenge--to protect myself and be kind to myself.

I think upon this quotable by Mother Theresa as the ideal I'd like to attain.

“People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

Another Quotable Quote From Jack Handy

"People who create their own drama, deserve their own karma."

Deep Thoughts By Jack Handy...

I saw this quote today, and while I know it has been falsely attributed to Lao Tzu, it speaks to me at this moment, as I'm anxious about what the coming days and weeks will bring, once my mom realizes I have cut off her "supply."

 “Respond intelligently even to unintelligent treatment.”

Triangulation & Hoovering With a Side Dish of Bread-crumbing

I've been happily tooling along, working on my own personal well being and enrichment--minding my own business, and keeping things LC (low contact) with my mom. After last October's cunty-ness, of her losing interest in the visit within 5-10 minutes, and then, of course, her barely waiting until I've left the room before calling someone (perhaps her sister) and snarking, "You'll NEVER guess who dared to show up without calling!" (What? As if she's the Queen of England?)

Then there's the matter of last month's call, which was all of ten minutes total, which was punctuated by her hanging up on me four times. At first, I thought it was a typical senior citizen move, fat fingering the phone and accidentally hanging up. 

The first three times it happened, I called back immediately. The first time I thought, "WTF?" but I called. Two minutes into the chat, she hangs up again. And again, I call back. Two minutes into the chat, she hangs up again. And against my better judgment, I called back. And two minutes into the chat, she hangs up again, and this time I held off on calling her back to see if she'd call back. And no call was forthcoming, and that told me everything I need to know.

This past Saturday I had dinner with my sister, who casually lets it be known our aunt asked, YET AGAIN, if it were okay for her to tell mom we are speaking again. And my sister said, "I don't give a fuck, I haven't spoken to mom since March." Yet, no one bothered to ask ME how I felt about it. And yes, I'm fucking furious.

So, I return home on Sunday to a voicemail from mom, and the voicemail was so upbeat, and so cheery (not her usual flat affect-bordering-on-hostility), and she baited the hook with that familiar chestnut, "I love you. I miss you." Hearing how upbeat her tone of voice was made me ill, and told me all I needed to know, that my aunt let her know.

I have a lot of problems with all of this:

1. The primary problem is, this is none of my aunt's business to tell;
2. Despite the fact we are mom's children, we are ADULTS and our relationships are mutually exclusive from mom;
3. The entire reason my sister and I have had a lifetime of difficulties has been due to mom's interference and abuse;
4. Now that mom knows, she will no doubt attempt to "Hoover" me back into chatting, and will then triangulate and try to use me as a go-between between her and my sister, who, I might add, hasn't spoken to mom since March.

There are other ancillary issues I have with all this:

1. My sister knew this would upset me and told me anyway;
2. My sister knew I'd be upset, but didn't stop our aunt;
3. My sister tells me this shit, knowing I'd be upset and ruminate, and she's been cherry picking which texts she replies to, which left me alone with my thoughts and shitty feelings until Tuesday, when I spoke with my therapist.

In the interim, I haven't called mom back, and in fact, I've decided how I will respond--which is to say, NO RESPONSE.

Initially, I thought I'd respond thusly:

1. The person who told you that is a troublemaker (thereby triangulating mom back to my aunt); and
2. That topic is not open for discussion.

I then decided I liked the simplicity of just preparing to use sentence #2. But I realize that ANY response will give mom what she wants: A "supply," interaction, even negative attention is better than no attention. And I've come to the conclusion that I need to go no contact. ZERO.

I started to look critically at the rare/infrequent cards or calls which are sent only on her birthday or other big days during the year. Impersonal cards. And impersonal calls where I don't talk about anything super deep. 

Originally I justified doing so to spare my humanity--to have normal impulses for a mother who is clearly NOT NORMAL. 

The second layer of my justification was: guilt, shame, obligation, and even pity. 

Lastly, the third layer of justification is more sinister: This week I learned the term "bread-crumbing" (though usually in the context of dating) the calls or cards would come out of no where, an ambush of sorts, hopefully reinforcing how very alone she is, and the hope that she feels abandoned like she's abandoned me and my siblings our whole lives.

But I realize that she isn't operating on that level of feeling alone and abandoned, and has been using those rare/infrequent calls and cards as her SUPPLY. That any "supply," even negative "supply" is better than no "supply."

I have come to the point in my life where it is necessary for me to go no contact for my own sense of well being. It has taken me nearly a half century to INDIVIDUATE, and cultivate standards and boundaries and some sense of self worth. A lot of hard work and reading and analysis and introspection, and a lot of SELF CARE has been done--self care neither my mother nor her meddlesome cunt of a sister have done for themselves, I might add.

For years, I thought they were jealous of all the tangible things I had that they didn't--but I believe the one thing I have which they covet the most is SELF-WORTH. And rather than acknowledge their own complicity in whatever it is that is making them truly unhappy in their own lives, it's super easy to disparage me, and/or think I am smug or arrogant or whatever. Much easier to disparage me rather than acknowledge & address their own PAIN and do the necessary psychological heavy lifting to help themselves.

After a lifetime of feeling abandoned and unloved, and 100% MISUNDERSTOOD by my mother, in addition to being made to feel like a FAILURE because no matter what I do or say, it's never good enough, I've decided no contact is the only viable option for me.

I have mom and my aunt blocked on my cell phone--so if mom calls, her voicemails go into a separate folder. We've blocked mom on the house phone too. I blocked my aunt on my cell, and will only be able to block her on my house phone if/when she decides to call my land line. 

Additionally, if mom resorts to her usual fuckery, one of her hateful letters will be sent, too. And I think if/when that happens, I'll finally get a chance to use the self-inking RETURN TO SENDER stampers I bought back when my sister and I are estranged.

I'd love to use one of my dad's patented sayings, "Don't go away mad--JUST GO AWAY." But I feel that the only fitting thing to do here is just provide profound SILENCE.

Since they both have yet to cease to exist, the only hope and desire I have is for them to act as if I do not exist.  But you know what Ben Franklin said about hope, right? Man who feasts upon hope dies FASTING. 

Note: As of today, I have gone 36 days without contact.

Repressed Dreams Are Like Cockroaches

Repressed dreams are like cockroaches--when you see one, you know there's HUNDREDS lurking in the shadows.

During my nap yesterday, I dreamed my mother walked out in front of me and someone I referred to as "Warrior" (turns out it might have been Warlord)--walked out in front of us BUCK NAKED. I turned to Warrior and said, "I don't know WTF is going on with her," and with that, I woke up.

I regaled my sister about the dream, and she informed me it was NOT A DREAM, that it, IN FACT, happened--SEVERAL TIMES. 

The more she talked, the more vivid my remembrances became. I first started thinking of the time she did this while I sat and chatted with my ex on our first date. Turns out she did this two years earlier, back when I was home on leave from Basic Training and was dating the neighbor across the street--who I had given one of my physical training sweatshirts which, coincidentally, had a WARLORD emblazoned on the chest. 

I have repressed this memory for 32 years. 

I don't know why my subconscious decided NOW was a good time to unpack that memory. I don't recall off hand how many times she'd prance from the bathroom to her bedroom naked after taking a shower, and then stop short, frozen and naked, thereby ensuring we all got an eye-full.

49 + 17

I managed to go 49 days without contact. I went from mom's bday until Good Friday. We were leaving for a pleasant week away and I didn't want to speak to my mom on Sunday, the day we were leaving, and have that potentially taint my mood as we headed into our vacation.

From Good Friday until Mother's Day, I managed to go another 17 days of no contact. The Wednesday before Mother's Day, I sent off one of my generic mother's day cards and some sugar free cookies I got from Christmas Tree Shoppes, and in turn, mom sent a passive-aggressive thank you card, which was addressed so poorly, it's truly amazing it managed to be delivered--especially knowing how dodgey my postal deliveries are these days. 

Mother's Day was a flurry of errands and things to be done, then lunch out, and a nap, and come to find out mom broke down and called me, perhaps in a fit of desperation for contact. And of course, I called back, and her voicemail box is perpetually full so no way to leave a message, which then only prolongs the annoyance, as her return call inevitably would come while we were eating dinner. 

I have nothing to discuss with her anymore. Anything good, I keep to myself because she has a way of shitting up any good thing, and of course, any bad thing, she'd only derive some schadenfreude from it. Also, anything of mine, good/bad/indifferent, would be met with a litany of problems she's having. 

Her world continues to shrink, and she has been spending so much time in her room alone, the nursing home staff has been insisting she goes out to the dining room for her meals so she can get some socialization. She claims her feet hurt so bad she doesn't want to walk--and she doesn't walk all that much to begin with, so I fail to see the issue of the dining room, considering she uses a wheel chair now--and by "she uses," I should say, some poor fool is pushing her ass around.

She continues to be my personal cautionary tale. I've been keeping a tight schedule these days of knee injections and MRI or xrays in the mornings before work, as well as acupuncture, cognitive behavioral therapy, and physical therapy, after work. With physical therapy on Saturdays and chiropractic on alternating Saturdays. I keep this tight schedule so I can continue to do what I want, when and how I want, for as long as possible.

She's given up on participating in life on the outside, given up on ALL OF US, and yet blames every one of us for the state of things, so basically all she continues to do is foment resentment in all of us.

I am trapped between two worlds. There are people out there who happily express their love and devotion to their moms on Mother's Day. Then there are others out there who grieve for their dead mothers. Then there's me: resentful that my mom has given up on everyone, and blames everyone for her troubles.

38

It's now up to 38 days with no contact with mom. 

It takes a lot of fortitude to do nothing. It's not easy, especially with all the shit programmed into me, with "shit" being defined as all the demands, expectations, and of course disappointment. 

Part of me wants to talk to her just to get it over with; however, the list of topics or things I'd share with her, dwindles daily. There's not much in the way of relatability left. 

Her cognitive distortions continue to expand at an insulting rate for the rest of us. She continues to tell outsiders that we all are just waiting for her to die.

And without the actual interaction, all I am left with are my thoughts and the flow charts in my mind of how any possible future interaction with her might end (not good).

All my life she's done this PUSH-PULL thing where she pushes people away, isolates herself, cycles through feeling isolated and alone and lonely, then externalizing all of that angst into playing a rousing hand of The Blame Game, wherein she blames all of us for the decisions she's made; and then she sets about trying to PULL us back in. All, of course, when it suits HER. 

I think upon the voicemail she left last week, devoid of joy or other positivity which might actually induce or facilitate a return telephone call. I think upon how my life is as it stands right now (peaceful). I cannot help but feel and look upon her voicemails with resentment, resentment of her intrusion in my life, resenting how she expects and demands time or caring (or any thing else, tangible or intangible), and I think upon how very little (if anything) has been reciprocated from her. 

26

26.

That's the total number of days I have gone without speaking with my mother. I called her on her birthday. The phone works both ways. And here we are.

26 Also happens to be the same number for my sister--of whom has gone NO CONTACT with mom--we're not sure how long she'll remain NO CONTACT; however, as she said to me, if she could go nearly three years of no contact with me, and in the end, I didn't do anything to hurt her (she's come to the realization that it was mom's doing), she could easily go the rest of her life without communicating with mom.

We'll see. 

So that's 26 days of no contact from 2 out of 3 of mom's kids. I have no knowledge of the regularity of my brother's contact with mom (as I'm also out of contact with him), but I feel pretty certain, he hasn't called. He doesn't give a shit. And while I wish I could get to that point of (is it indifference?), he is at the far end of the desired spectrum of where I would like to be, personally, in regards to our mother. He doesn't care at all; whereas, I would like to control, judiciously, how much caring I allow myself to do, because, in the end, even if I care (or do things), it'll never be enough.

Let No Good Deed Go Unpunished

File this one under: Having normal impulses for someone who is far from normal.

My sister went to the trouble of planning (and paying for) a birthday party for mom, aka Audrey (as in Audrey the blood-thirsty plant in Little Shop of Horrors with the unyielding appetite: FEED ME!). 

She cooked food, arranged for some items from Olive Garden to be served, invited people, set up the party room at Shady Pines, etc. All a thankless task in general.  On this day in particular, it was a harbinger of things to come. (Think of mom as the Titanic, and the epic thanklessness as a shitty iceberg, of mom's own creation, about to make contact with one another.)

Audrey's friend, B, who was in attendance despite her most-recent health crisis, and B was there with her daughter, C, who has her own challenges in life (MS, plus her husband left her over a year or so ago). B says something to the effect of what a great daughter C is, because she's done so many things for B in her time of need.

SETTING THE SCENE: THE LOOK OUT RINGS THREE BELLS AND ALERTS THE BRIDGE--ICEBERG DEAD AHEAD!!!

And with ZERO sense of self-awareness, and in keeping with her shitty (now dead) abusive father's habit to do this, WITH AN AUDIENCE, Audrey set out to insult and humiliate my sister.  

So mom blurts out with every ounce of snark within her power, "Oh, it must be so nice, to have a daughter who will DO THINGS FOR YOU!" 

B and mom's friend H are both deaf as stones, so it's no great wonder they didn't respond; however, there were other people there at the party, eating their fill of the free food my sister provided, and not one of those fuckers piped up. 

My brother-in-law, a self-admitted asshole, couldn't stand this for one more moment. After 28 years of marriage (and countless years before marriage) he opened his mouth: "Oh, you mean do things like PLAN THIS BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR YOU?"

Now mind you, my brother-in-law could effectively silence a room full of yapping adults by merely CLEARING HIS THROAT. To say my brother-in-law has presence, is an understatement. He can be formidable. 

And with that, rather than OWN her stupidity, yet another of her trademark carelessly cruel statements, she suddenly had to excuse herself to the restroom--and of course, this was quite the undertaking, given she's a mountain of a woman and nearly completely immobile. 

Sadly, in keeping with mom's character and consistency, no apology was forthcoming.

Several days later, my brother-in-law informed Audrey that until further notice she is forbidden to contact my sister. If Audrey requires anything, she is to contact my brother-in-law directly, as my sister will neither be calling nor visiting.

Of course, Audrey wanted to know why--what did she do to deserve this? And my brother-in-law informed her that Audrey has insulted my sister for the final time. Audrey was quick to try to minimize what happened by suggesting my sister takes everything the wrong way or is too sensitive or whatever, and my brother-in-law shut her down. He wasn't having any part of it, he wasn't taking mom's side, and drove home the point that she is FORBIDDEN to call her own daughter.

My sister informed me of this, I believe, this past Friday or Saturday. I drove home the point of, "Now, this is where the hard work kicks in. On the surface, it looks easy doing nothing at all. No calls. No good deeds. But the psychological hold mom has on us runs deep. You have to hold tight to the boundary that you (and your husband) put up with mom. Now you have to MAINTAIN that boundary. If you call now, it will undo all the work. DO NOTHING."

It's been five days, and all five days I have wondered and worried, and hoped she kept herself from calling mom.

A friend of mine recently introduced me to the notion of "trauma bonding," and equated our upbringing to that of a hostage situation, and our relationship with mom (and others in the family) is like that of Stockholm Syndrome, where we empathize with our oppressors. 

Now the truly difficult work starts for my sister.

One by one, my mother has ground out all the goodness and good intent and good will out of all of us. She whines about how alone and lonely she is, yet continues to lack even an iota of awareness that she and she alone is to blame for this. 

One time, my mother said to me how the staff at the nursing home thinks she has no family. I am 100% okay with never seeing her again. I'm okay with being a ghost, the relative whose name is invoked but you rarely (if ever see). I'm abandoning her, like she's abandoned and rejected me my entire life. 

Additionally, she has constructed several dynamics on both sides of the family where she interfered and damaged family relationships to the point where I have next to no one on either side of the family with whom to associate. She fails to realize, I am using her as my cautionary tale of what I do not want for myself. In spite of her best efforts, I have carved out a relationship with the older of dad's two sisters, and the youngest of my grandfather's sisters (and her son), and I have reconciled with my sister. I don't need to have relationships with EVERYONE with whom I share DNA. I appreciate what little bit of family I've managed to hold on to--and that's nothing in comparison to this enormous, loving, functional family I have with my in-laws. 

I am fortunate. I am not alone. I am happy. I have a full life. I have friends. I'm striving to even improve upon all that abundance.

It is a choice. And I don't feel bad because my mother chose poorly (or chose to do nothing at all--which, in and of itself IS STILL A CHOICE).

Fuck her.

15

That is the tally of times mom called my sister yesterday.

15.

1= Acceptable.
5= Excessive enough.
15=LUNATIC.

I am sure at least 2-3 calls were mom weaponizing sis' birthday as an excuse for contact, contact, more contact. But 15? That's the action of someone who is actually insane and/or someone wanting to monopolize someone else's time/space/attention.

Every time I think to myself that I might be having a normal impulse and want to call mom, I think of these situations, and I also think about the INVERSE of 15, which is to say, 31 days have gone without my mom calling me. I know if I do call, the "thanks" I will get will be someone disinterested in the fact I have called, or be met with overt hostility. And then the moment passes, and that normal impulse is met with the reminder that it is for a person who doesn't have normal actions, reactions, responses to life in even the most basic or general sense of the word.

I wouldn't say it paralyzes me; however, it does make what modicum of "Give a fuck" I happened to be mustering up at that given point in time, just dissipate into the ether.

The Post-Holiday Wrap Up

The holidays were very low key (or low key ENOUGH), especially given Xmas and New Year’s were on week days. 

I called mom on xmas day just to get it over with--despite her "weaponizing" the gift I sent her (weaponizing = she called me about 3-4x to leave voicemails on my home, work, and cell phone voicemails to “thank” me). 

Without fail, she was flat and joyless and it didn’t take long for her to launch into the assorted ways everyone is letting her down. 

Complaint #1: She claimed that the staff at Shady Pines “thinks she doesn’t have any family.” 

Complaint #2: She claimed how other residents have family members pick them up and take them out to lunch or for the day. My mom is quite large, with legs bloated by lymphedema and lipidema, and she physically cannot fit in any of our vehicles. Furthermore, she is at a very high risk for slips/trips/falls. Then there’s the matter of by her deciding to “cash in her chips” and remain at Shady Pines, she’s essentially impoverished herself--to date, she’s got $6 in her house account. 

Complaint #3: "It's as if I'm already dead!" I honestly don't know what to say in regards to this beyond the obvious, that she lives in depression and denial about everything, acts all flat and joyless, uninspired and uninvolved (and indifferent to) the lives of others. She's always been depressed, but has amped up especially so since dad's passing ten years ago--also there's the matter of her allegedly attempting to kill herself ten years ago. And even THAT detail I have to just not allow myself to believe, because SHE was the one who told me what she was doing. Every word she has ever uttered to me has either been an outright fabrication or a manipulation (or both). 

She’s in denial about how SHE’s imprisoned herself in her body, and now imprisoned and impoverished herself by staying at Shady Pines. This decision was 100% hers, and of course, she wasted ENTIRELY TOO MUCH TIME coming to the same OBVIOUS conclusion that the rest of us came to months earlier.

Money aside, if at least she were appreciative of our efforts, I am sure we could figure out a way for a special outing--but again, that would involve money as it would no doubt involve a special medical transport service; however, reality, as I see it, that I would love to detonate THIS truth bomb to her:

1. Sis’ husband is recovering from a thyroidectomy & radiation; 
2. My brother’s life has gone sideways in a huge way (and he’s on his same track to impoverishment); 
3. I refuse to drive 2.5 hours, one way, to get there and for her to get bored with me and give me the “bum’s rush” after a half hour, as I fail to see this as a good ROI on the time/money/effort to actually go see her. 

She fails to realize that the well of good will has run dry--much like her bank account. 

The last time I visited her (unannounced; in October two months ago), she was over-the-top with theatrical tears--only for her to start her telephone twattery the moment I left her room--calling her sister (and whomever else) and snarked on about “You’ll never guess who visited me, UNANNOUNCED!” 

The only time she calls me is when I’ve done or sent something to her--other than that, she doesn’t give a shit. In this regard, it's mutual--I, too, don't give a shit! In fact, I have allocated ZERO FUCKS to dispense for the entirety of 2019!

On an amusing note, my sister is getting really in tune and in touch with "speaking her truth" and she's had her "fill" of mom and her endless demands. My sister said, “Hey, did it ever occur to you that Maven sends you those sugar free chocolates WITH THE INTENT to give you diarrhea?” Mom flatly said, “You’re probably right.” And with that, mom polished off the last of the one pound box. 

“Diarrhea--when you don’t care to send the very best!”