Nine Months Into This

Still maintaining radio silence on my end. 

Of course, Audrey has to get involved. She knows my sister and I are not talking. She claims that:

1. My sister said she was going to text me regarding my birthday (and didn't); and
2. My sister allegedly asks if *I* ask about her (which I don't).

When I asked Audrey how did she reply when she was asked #2, she said, "Oh yes, I told her you ask about her." Which of course is a bold faced lie. Who knows? Perhaps even #2 never even happened. Perhaps that, too was a lie to manipulate ME into calling my sister. It's all suspicious. And on the off chance that #2 was asked and Audrey lied and said I am asking about my sister, my sister is now smug or thinking that I miss her or some other ridiculous thing. 

All I know is I have not heard from my sister. I am waiting it out to see if I get one of her inane holiday photo cards, which will no doubt be snapped either at Disney or somewhere in NYC, a scant half hour from my home. 

I have purchased a self-inking "return to sender" stamper so that if she does send a card, I'll just calmly stamp it and return it back to her unopened. To me, unless she calls or emails me to re-open an actual, direct line of communication, I am uninterested in getting a card with a picture of my niece, of whom she's forbidden me to contact. 

She can't have it both ways. You want me out of your life. Fine. You don't want to talk to me. Fine. You don't want me to have a relationship with my niece? Fine. I'm not going to participate in your delusion at all.

So there ya have it. I have managed 3/4 of a year so far! I can do a whole year standing on my head.

Five Months Later: Continued Radio Silence

Not much new to report here, other than radio silence has been maintained. And yet? I cannot help but feel that my relationship with my mother, as tenuous as it always has been, is perhaps the best it's ever been. I cannot help but connect the dots and come to the conclusion that she and I have a complicated ENOUGH relationship, and subtract my sister from it, the relationship seems on an even enough keel. 

At the end of April, knowing I would not be around or able to visit on Mother's Day, I made the trip to visit mom, and even did a sleep over there, and, as far as these things go, it was about as pleasant as it could be.

This is not to say I do not suspect my mother still has Borderline Personality Disorder, CLEARLY SHE DOES; however, without my sister's interference and influence on us, directly, in a visit? The visit was "nice."

However, initially, when I arrived, my mother was anxious about the possibility of my sister showing up, and (I guess) being upset that I was there. I said to my mother that she should just stop worrying and that one of two scenarios were likely to happen:

1.  My sister would show up, see my car in the driveway, and just decide to drive home; or
2. My sister would come inside to either continue fighting with me or buck up and be an adult and end this thing.

I said to mom that the person who SHOULD be anxious is ME, given I clearly am the sitting duck here, and if my sister were to show up, I would not be expecting to, nor would I want to interact with her.  

I stand by my resolve that she was the one who insisted we stop talking; and if we are to recommence talking, it will be SHE who initiates it, not me.

As I said to my therapist,  I can only handle one nutjob at a time. "There's a time and a place for everything, and everyone, and the time is now, and the person right now is my mother." Given my mother's health, who knows how much time she's got left. She's 70 and to be blunt we are always one medical drama away from "the inevitable." But at the moment she's holding her own--who knows how long this will last. But my focus right now is sobering that given I only visit 4x a year if that, and given her age and health, there is a finite amount of visits, so why not make them pleasant ones? 

Perhaps this is the natural order of things. Perhaps my focus SHOULD be on my mom. Ideally it would be nice if my sister were to get her head out of her ass before mom gets ill again and/or dies. I am not in control of that. Perhaps there will be reconciliation or not. Who knows. But I cannot fixate myself or my finite energy on trying to be someone I am not all in an attempt to try to make someone who is incapable of being happy (my sister), HAPPY? I did my best in the past, and that wasn't appreciated or acknowledged, and was insulted with the accusation of half-assing things. As I see it, it would be utter insanity to put myself out there more, and in doing so, potentially injure or kill myself (as evidenced by that fateful car accident I had, while dad languished in a hospital ventilator unit), all in the name to make her happy--when clearly by her own actions (or lack thereof), she's obviously and consistently not been all that concerned about my well being or happiness. 

A friend asked me recently if I missed my sister, and to be blunt, there's not much to miss. I pretty much was her scapegoat and at times her sounding board upon which she'd vent her spleen about how others have done her wrong or how she's doing so much for our mother or whatever. It always had been a one way street with her. It had easily been 15-20 years since we had done anything remotely sisterly," and the only thing that remained was passive-aggression, resentment, and tsouris.  "So do I miss the grief? NO." In the absence of anything loving or kind or supportive or "sisterly," I will gladly accept her silence.

My only regret is that my relationship with my niece is collateral damage as a result of all this. She's 13, has email and a cell phone, and communicating with me is not important to her. So I shouldn't fixate too heavily on this detail. 

I just know I will never truly have any peace regarding my sister, until our mother is gone. I'm not wishing for an early demise for mom, but merely intellectualizing the truth. Once mom's gone, that's it. Maybe I'll see my brother on occasion, but if things continue with the radio silence as status quo, the notion of reconciliation seems fairly unlikely.

Tomorrow isn't promised to any of us--all the more reason for us to focus on living in the NOW.  That's all I am capable of doing.  And in doing so, I hope to stave off a cascade of regrets later. At least I know, in the end, I did what I was able to do.

It's Deja Vu All Over Again

Hey. Remember a year ago, Audrey was in the hospital, and I was going to take a bushel of her used books to Good Will for a "hit and run" type of drop off, only to discover there were some used hypodermics in her book box?

Yeah. Well. Before my trip to Europe next week, I went and visited Audrey. Had a nice enough visit. (Surprised? :) ) 

Anywhooooo...

Whilst sitting in a recliner, this was my view:

Yep. There's a sneaky Pete right there. A used hypodermic in the crevice of the chair. It's becoming a lot like "Where's Waldo" when visiting, to find the hypodermic. And there WILL be a hypodermic!

Vintage Telephone Twattery

Not sure if I shared this gem herein, and it's been blogged about elsewhere, but I figured I'd tuck it in here for continuity. Originally posted sometime in 2009. I'm not even going to fix the formatting.

I really should stop doing things that normal folks would do in similar situations.
Srsly.

Last week, I called my dad’s (now-former) vet to take his name off the reminders list (yanno those reminder cards they mail out), and let them know his sister will be taking care of his dog from now on, and that I’ll be letting my aunt know the vet’s #, and that she might be calling them for the dog’s medical records, vaccinations list, etc. (The only way to stop getting mail addressed to my dad is simply by doing this, over and over again, with magazines, newspapers, and all the charities he managed to give money to.)
The vet in turn calls my mother to:

1. Verify that all this is true;
2. To extend their condolences.

All this managed to do was be-fucking-fuddle Pitiful Pearl. I don’t know if she’s got some low-level senility kicking in, if she’s an attention whore, or if what I’m about to regale you with is her way to punish me. Yanno. For being normal (or at least striving for a facsimile thereto).
The moment she hung up with the vet, she:

1. Called me AT work (I let it roll to voice mail, as I’m tired of this bullshitty bullshit of talking every day to her);
2. When I didn’t answer my desk phone, she then called my cell phone, again, letting it go to voicemail, with her leaving this message, “IT’S YOUR MOTHER.” click!;
3. While I am at the chiropractor, she called FOUR MORE EFFING TIMES in quick succession with similarly rude/terse/cunty-voiced messages ranging from: “It’s your mother,” to “CALL ME,” to “Did you call the vet?” (Never a “please” nor a splinter of good manners  in the lot.); Subtotal of calls thus far: 6
   
4. I get home, and there are THREE EFFING MESSAGES on the machine, all identical to the ones she’s already left; Subtotal of calls thus far: 9
5. As I am finishing cooking dinner and about to sit down (time: roughly 9 p.m.), she calls YET AGAIN. Seeing the name on the caller ID, I pick up and say real pissy, “YES?!?”

Her: I’ve been real worried. Did you call the vet today? Me: Obviously. Her: Why? Me: Obviously I thought it was necessary. Her: Oh. Me: I’m eating dinner. Her: Okay. Bye.

10.

That’s TEN MOTHER-EFFING-PHONE CALLS about NOTHING. This is the type of harassment I am dealing with from her.

When the man was alive, she treated me as if I were the “other woman” (need I remind anyone how she introduced me to dad’s day nurse as, “Oh, let me introduce you to my HUSBAND’S DAUGHTER.”;
Since he’s been gone, she treats me like I’m an effing thief when I’m at the house;
And in the meantime somehow or another, she obviously thinks this type of behavior is acceptable. Or worse: normal.
Whether I am subtle or I go for the effing jugular, it doesn’t make a difference; because she simply does not give a shit that not everyone wants to talk to her every effing moment of every effing day; totally disregarding the fact that she has absolutely nothing to talk about (to my face; behind my back, I know for a fact it’s a different story).
Oh, and the whole vet situation is on top of the already fucked up, ”I’m calling you, but I don’t have anything to talk about,”  or the “I’m calling you because I don’t want you to think I’m avoiding you,” type telephone calls. WTF?
She’s avoiding me? Sign me up! Where do I sign? Aren’t I entitled to some down time? Some decompression? Time alone with my own thoughts, my own life, totally and mutually exclusive from her?

On Cunty Consistency

March 10th:
9:30 a.m.: Arrive to the office.
9:35 a.m.: Get call from Bossman #1 that there's something super urgent I need to work on with him. We work on it all day.
3:25 p.m.: Give the document to our director (in the presence of Bossman #1). Director says, "It's perfect, please email it to me. Thanks." I left her office in such a hurry (as I thought expedience in getting this emailed to her was more important than curtseying and kissing the ring with a "You're welcome" in reply to her thank you). As I exited, I was about 2-3 feet from her office, when I heard her passively-aggressively snarl out, "YOU'RE WELCOME."
3:30 p.m.: I inform bossman of two things: "Did I hear her passively-aggressively blurt out "You're Welcome to me? (He replied, "You heard THAT?") I replied, "I hear EVERYTHING," and then I blurted out "HEY. I AM HUNGRY." And he says, "Go for your lunch!" (FINALLY)
4:15 p.m.: He walks into the break room in the dungeon, interrupting my Fortress of Solitude, and I launched into "Gee, it's nice to know that the fact I delayed my lunch by three and a half hours was greatly appreciated by her." And I brought up the "You're welcome" (and in my mind, if you're playing along at home, the voice in my head sounds like Large Marge from PeeWee's Big Adventure). 

I said, "Yanno, a four letter word, starting with C and ending with T really applies here." And he said, "Nope. Nope. I don't want to hear that word!" And I said, "I'm far too clever for you. The word that applies here is CURT." (He agreed.) He then replied, "Hey, she told you the document was PERFECT! I've never heard that I did anything perfectly!" My reply back to him was, "Well she fucked up the slap and tickle! Slap and tickle, you start with the negative, and conclude with something positive. She fucked up the compliment by being curt."

The final exchange here was his reply to that, "Well, at least "I" appreciate you!" And I said, "And to that, I say, thank you Good Sir! Right back atcha!"

March 11th:
After regaling my mother of the aforementioned exchange, without missing a beat she said, "Yeah... but still, you could have said you're welcome." 

I seriously am laughing at this and not steamed, because what she thinks matters so very little to me. But, I think if she ever did say something in the least bit SUPPORTIVE of me and my point of view, I think I'd keel over dead from abject shock.

In Other News

Last night I made my weekly call to my mom. I'd call more frequently, but there's nothing really to talk about. That aside...

Everything was pleasant enough, and then she blindsided me with the Whopper of All Whoppers: "What kind of mother was I?" I replied, "How am I supposed to answer that?" She said, "Honestly, I can handle it." And I paused while I collected my thoughts, and I leaned into my need to be honest rather than "be nice" and perpetuate any delusions she may have, as I am convinced we all possess the ability to know how good or how horrible each of us truly is. 

"You were a difficult person to love." 
(Pause)
"However, to your credit, at your best you were perversely dark, twisted, hilarious, too."  

I call this type of response, giving the bad first, and the good last as the "Ol' Slap and Tickle." 

She seemed to handle it well enough. The conversation then veered to this coming weekend, when she turns 70. She's downright shocked she's reached such an age, and no doubt, she's keenly aware that she won't live forever. At her worst she was horrible and abusive, but now, I see her as mostly de-fanged, a human, fragile, and in need of validation. However, I am also keenly aware of the potential for things to go sideways at any point in time, so I am still guarded.

She let me know a hairdresser is coming to the house, and she's going to go blonde. This is a huge deal. Because in the last six years (since dad's been gone), she's not given too much care to her appearance. Getting her hair colored and "done," no doubt, will boost her. And of course, the timing is such, it's obvious, she's getting ready for the party on Sunday, so I dared to ask THE question.

"So is anyone coming by for your birthday?" And she downplayed it, but the more she talked, the more it was apparent there was a party going on. And everyone invited was, I suppose, sworn to secrecy. "You know, you are more than welcome here, anytime you wish." And I said that I was aware of that. "Are you coming?" And I said, "I wasn't invited by the person throwing the party. And even if I were, I won't." And she asked why, and I said, "To be honest, I am not physically up to it--the drive--the party--the crowd--and more importantly, I don't want whatever this weirdness with my sister to ruin your day. I can come visit another day, and it'll be just you and I."  This seemed to placate her. We chatted a bit more and concluded the call. 

We are now two months, one week, and two days into The Great Silence with my sister. Today, I have no further words on this.

On Being an Adult

So. Rather than sit and analyze this further, or feel compelled to avoid the front desk during my lunch hour, I figured I owed it to myself to articulate what needed articulating. 

This a.m., while heading down to the lower level to drop off mail, I swung by the front desk where Jean was, and I initiated (what I hope will be) the final discussion on yesterday's topic. And given this is right before the lunchtime rush of people, this was the ideal time to do so. No interruptions, no one else around so hopefully it will minimize whatever embarrassment he may have during this conversation.

I reaffirmed that I am a deep thinker, and I could not stop thinking about yesterday's topic, especially given he's brought it up in the past before, several times.

I reaffirmed that I am a very good judge of character, and I am going to crack all of this up to "the culture gap."

I stated the obvious, that there is no type of indoctrination for foreigners who come here, to learn the finer points, or nuances, of being polite. Little things like hygiene for some, or finding out about what might be inappropriate behaviors for others.

Directly, and as non-condescending as I could, I started with, "a little friendly advice," and I told him that most businesses have a zero tolerance policy on sexual harassment. The mere question of a sexual nature, even if it's asked out of innocent enough curiosity, could constitute harassment. To ask this to any female in the workplace, even if it's "just making conversation," if that female feels threatened, it could constitute harassment. If, after I've asked him not to ask me this again, he asks it again, that counts as harassment.

He asked me if I thought there was more to the asking than superficial asking. And I replied, "Of course. It could be one of three scenarios: 1. You're trying to see if I'm inclined to cheat; 2. Your wife cheated on you and you're trying to figure out why she cheated; or 3. You've got a guilty conscience because YOU cheated. In any of these scenarios, I AM NOT INTERESTED."

At this point he said he was very sorry for offending me. And I thanked him for his apology.

I informed him that these are the types of questions to ask close friends, and while I am flattered that he either thinks we are that close or that he is that comfortable asking such things of me, we are not close friends. 

In the mix somewhere, I mentioned that I am a happily married, contented person. Somewhere in the mix. I didn't conclude with that.

Hopefully this will be the end of this nonsense with him.