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!”

A Lot For Which to Be Grateful

We returned from India on Saturday. I was back in the office by Tuesday. And yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I had a full house of company, friends and family.

The trip to India is always a difficult journey, but this time things seemed much smoother and idyllic. We attended a family wedding, and I really connected even more deeply with my mother-in-law, who is truly someone very very special. 

I was very organized for the holiday and the Maharajah is a great help-mate, so much so, he's like the other half of my brain, and we function like a solid unit. We had everything set up in the morning, and by the time I went to bed, I was one more load of dishes away from having everything completely cleaned up. When I woke up, I realized that M had broken down and put away our banquet table, and he quipped, "It's as if Thanksgiving never happened."

All in all, it's a worthwhile expenditure of energy and planning. Everyone involved truly looks forward to getting together, and catching up. And most importantly to me is that everyone is comfortable and accommodated. The true litmus test is to see my brother-in-law, who normally is a bit standoffish with my family (meaning, my birth family, mom's side in particular), and see him actively engaged in conversation and enjoying everyone's company--and likewise, they all look forward to seeing my sister, bil, and niece. 

I'm glad that it's been 16 months since my sister and I have reconciled, and so far, it looks like it's working. To my knowledge, my mother still doesn't know that we have reconciled. 

My brother continues to fail and flail along--and no, I don't include him in Thanksgiving. I exclude him, not out of cruelty; however, it's more a practical decision on several levels. He is entirely too big for the space, destructive, negative, and crude; and I am trying to distance myself from my past and carve out a new life and new experiences. I carefully curate who is included and what foods get served.

I have a lot to be grateful for: reasonably goodish health, a healthy husband, a roof over my head, food in my belly with enough happiness and food to share with loved ones, happy for the reconciliation with my sister, happy to have a broad range of experiences that take me to different hemispheres on this planet. 

My life is full.

We returned on Saturday from India and I held off on calling mom, because Thanksgiving was coming up and I didn't want to do 2 calls in one week. I held off on calling her in the morning yesterday as I didn't want her to taint my mood. I waited until everyone left and I called before it got too late. 

I keep the conversation on surface level stuff. I don't get too deep anymore, not that she ever DID deep before. And before I knew it, she was giving me the bum's rush to get off the phone. I don't give her drama. I don't talk to anyone who drums up drama. So she has no use for me.

Turns out no one visited her on the holiday, not even my brother who had nothing else going on. And while part of me felt sad about that, I quickly planted the thought in my head "it's her choice." It's her choice to remain at Shady Pines. It's her choice to continue to withdraw from people. It's her choice to be alone and lonely in a building full of other souls. It's her choice to do absolutely nothing about her depression and mindset. 

I'm thankful that I called her. Thankful to be reminded of what I DO NOT want for my own life. 

It's just a weird thing though, this "in-between" stage she is in. It's not like she's in a coma or on life support. She's fully functioning in many ways. But over the last 20-25 years, she's gradually given up on life--even more so after dad died. So it's weird seeing her become a ghost, yet still possess a human form--again, it's a choice. 

Life is short--we should live and eat and love and learn and and and... for as long as we are able. Use up every molecule of our being until there is nothing left. Not do what mom is doing, which is akin to taking abundance and just letting it sit and rot, and THAT, imho is not a life well-lived. 

October: Beginning & Ending

Where we left off in October—

After my last post, I spent the weekend at the Jersey Shore and very very glad that the thrust of my  visit was not focused on my mom, as I’d only be disappointed.

I swung by Shady Pines for a visit with Audrey. I itially there was a cascade of crocodile tears—all for show, and within 30 minutes it was as if she was hiving me the bum’s rush.

She sat there is a semi-stupor with dead eyes and no interest. She really has no room for complaint given: 1. It was her decision to go to Shady Pines, despite everyone’s input to go elsewhere; and 2. It was her decision to give up on living a life outside a nursing home. She has no fortitude and in the end isn’t independent, and I guess this works for her paradigm she has constructed, a life where everyone needs to go TO her without any expectation of it being reciprocated.

This is merely the end game of a process that has been on-going for the last 25 years, where mom has gradually, consistently, opted out of, well, putting herself OUT/OUT THERE at all.

I no sooner got outside to my car, when she started to call others to shred me behind my back, “You’ll never guess WHO cane to visit without calling first!” Given the fact that she has a designated shower day during the week, it isn’t like she could have freshened up before the visit, so I fail to see what the problem is. Guess what? There are residents at Shady Pines who have no one at all to visit them, who I feel confident would RELISH a visit, even from a stranger.

Later that weekend, I was visiting with a cousin, who inquired how my visit went. I laid out, honestly,  how it went and even detailed that it is a difficult thing to deal with someone with depression, and incapable of being happy. I also detailed how, at the age of 50, I am trying not to concern myself with watching my words or actions to make others feel more comfortable, when it is obvious through THEIR  words and actions, that they don’t care about MY comfort. (This point will be reiterated or re-experienced at the end of the month).

Towards the end of October, things took a turn at work. TBH, I didn't know if I was about to be fired or arrested.

Turns out the Fartiste reported me to my bosses after I made small talk with her. Now WHY yap to her in the first place? 

All my life i have been cultivated to try to make my tormentors more comfortable—in this case I worried she felt left out of the love fest between me and the younger secretary (who treats me like her mentor), so, in August, I engaged the Fartiste in idle chit chat, talking about something (I have come to find out) I shouldn't have, but in peripheral terms, nothing of substance. Mind you, the Fartiste handles the same type of proceedings in our office and a little bit of good will in the form of a heads up would have been lovely. 

SPOILER ALERT: She didn’t want to just get me to lose my job, but also my very freedom. 

So I got called into the director’s office, and her opening line was, “You DO realize it is a felony to disclose anything right?), so yeah, terrorized me right from the get-go. Fortunately, the discussion was more along the lines of an FYI type of thing to protect me; however, at the time, I was so utterly shocked, it caught me off balance and distracted me to the point where I didn't think to ask who reported me--despite the obvious choice.

My tipping point has been met. I’ve decided I need to change therapists, and see one who focuses on schema therapy.

So, I held my water (such as it is) until TODAY, and thought I'd finally be able to talk to my current therapist about this. Sadly, my current therapist is dealing with a gastroesophageal junction cancer diagnosis and started chemo right around the time shit went sideways for me at work, and despite my request to inform me via a text on my cell phone (as I wouldn't be in the office to retrieve my emails until AFTER our designated appointment time), he EMAILED me instead of texting me. So yeah, that fills me with MEH, the idea I rushed to get out of the house an hour earlier than normal to sit in my car and wait for a phone in session that was not to be. I'll blame it on chemo brain. He's got bigger issues than my bullshit with which to contend.

So my refrain from the beginning of the month is on the sidelines, showing me in living vivid color that this person is evil, and isn’t worth my time, courtesy or energy (to devote to merely THINKING of her).

I have been out of the office for two whole weeks, having spent an idyllic visit with my in-laws, and started to actually feel REFRESHED or somewhat RESTORED, and then I had to do something I dreaded: RETURN TO THE OFFICE TODAY. I was greeted enthusiastically by several people, one of whom I didn't anticipate (the #2 guy in our office); and the Fartise remained consistently nonplussed by my presence, and didn't utter a "hello" or "welcome back" or anything else of the sort.  

This all has been a huge wake up call--and I've had smaller ones too recently. After spending close to $8K to visit family in India, an uncle replied how we should visit more frequently (despite us visiting every two years). And my first response is to get ticked that we already ARE visiting them, and they want MORE. And the Maharajah's response is that I should look at things from another perspective--that these people love me and want to spend MORE time with me to love me some more.

I acknowledge that I am broken and I need help. And whether my current therapist gets back to me so we can have that discussion or not, I WILL get the help I need to do what I need to do to break out of this cycle.

More Telephone Twattery

Where I left off last month, after I told off my aunt, I blocked her on my cell phone, forming a communications choke point. If she wanted to contact me, she had to do so via email or my house phone.

It took a full month for her to figure this out.

I can only assume she attempted to send me a text on my birthday, of which I never received (for obvious reasons) and never replied to her.

I can only assume she attempted to send me her annual heart emoji on my dad's birthday (she has fetishized his birthdate and death date for the past ten years), and that too, went without an acknowledgement on my end.

And two weeks ago (as of tomorrow's date), she attempted to text me to let me know my Aunt B passed away, and that too went without acknowledgement.

She eventually emailed me, "I guess you've got me blocked on your cell, but I wanted to let you know that Aunt B died."

Okay, clearly she wants some kind of acknowledgement from my end--and I only acknowledged the death with a "Thanks for letting me know." In regards to her suspicions of blocking, I let sleeping dogs lie.

Then Audrey called me a couple days later to let me know, "I know your aunt got in touch with you, but I wanted to let you know myself, that Aunt B died."

And there goes Audrey AGAIN, weaponizing, this time, a death date, as an excuse to attempt more contact. It has been nearly a week since she called me, and I haven't been interested enough in giving her a call back.

This further irritates me, because both, Audrey and my aunt, BOTH, were not, shall we say, CHARITABLE with their opinions of my uncle's wife. BOTH of them acted jealous or resentful of him, even going so far as nicknaming him Tom Monzo (his wife's maiden name). 

Perhaps they were jealous of Aunt B, as she was a stay at home wife and mother until the day she died. She didn't have to work one single day outside of her home, unlike Audrey or my Audrey's sister. 

Perhaps they were resentful of Tom because 25 years ago he moved away, away from their abusive father and the whole family dynamic.

As an adult, looking upon this with eyes and opinions of my own, I don't think he ran away. I think he ran TOWARDS something. Aunt B's family clearly is tight knit and loving and decent--Tom would be a fool not to be attracted to that--as I am attracted to the same qualities in my own in-laws.

So, I've held off on the post-mortem discourse--wherein Audrey will act as if she is truly grieving over B's passing. To be honest, I didn't think either Audrey or my aunt actually LIKED her. To act otherwise is simply dishonest.

So, I texted my uncle. And at another point in time, he and I chatted. Aunt B passed on 9/19, and she was laid to rest this weekend. I sent him a card which should be arriving today. 

I hope the card and sentiments I sent, will bring him something resembling comfort. We all are just poor substitutes for the person he really needs, the person who would really understand and help him through this--Aunt. B.