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.