beemayhem: (Default)
So it's been quiet since... April whatever. Whenever my last post was. I made it through Mother's Day, her birthday, and Father's Day. It was sad and I wasn't sure how to handle it so I just stayed silent and nursed/honored my sadness and disappointment. Hopefully next year will be...easier? Better? Inconsequential?
Things are frustrating in therapy. The theme between that and all BPD family coping books is "Dealing with this miserable asshole because you're stuck with them". And seriously? Fuck that. I feel bad this is how my mother works, but she refuses to see herself as having any part of the issue (as I'm the crazy one, ALWAYS). How can I have a relationship with *anyone* who thinks I'm crazy and out to get them? How can I have a relationship with someone who berates, mocks, disrespects and treats me like an extension of themselves who is misbehaving, like a phantom limb? I can't right now. I can't for the foreseeable future. So all of the crap about "When you have to deal with ____" or "When _____ starts the bull" is just... No. It makes me feel trapped to think that this is my lifelong cross to bear. I was born to someone with a mental illness, thus I must spend the rest of my life miserable and having crazy episodes barfed all over me constantly? I don't think so.
I'm not trying to say my mother or anyone else with BPD is bad or intolerable or what have you. I'm saying this is not a scene I'm interested in participating in. I think that's fair. I'm also not interested in hanging out with racists, sanctimonious vegans, fundamentalist anythings, or people who majored in broadcast journalism. It's just a matter of who one prefers to keep company with, I suppose, and I have never preferred my mother's. I can remember saying from about the age of 12 that while I knew I loved my mom, I would never choose her to associate with if I hadn't been stuck with her (ok, more like: "I love her, she's my mom of course, but I wouldn't hang out with that bitch on my own if you paid me!" I was a shitty teenager, duh).
The other frustrating component of therapy is not knowing what I'm supposed to do. I feel like I've gotten to this big salt flat of my brain, and am kind of in a holding pattern, feeling empty and waiting for something. A confrontation. An attempt at reconciliation. A death, an injury, an event that forces me out. I'm not ready, I just think I don't know what to do. Growing up, when things were calm and devoid of an episode for this long, I knew to expect one soon. It was like my mother couldn't handle the calm and had to cause some dramatic, self centered stage show to keep herself interested in life and everyone's attention, for better or worse, on herself. So how I know to deal with calm is to wait and be on my guard. Except for now, there's not much guarding, and things are quiet. It's scary.
beemayhem: (fuck right off)
Apparently, when you disconnect from a dysfunctional/codependent relationship, you go through a grieving process. According to my therapist, this is due to the loss of your "idealization of the person your mother COULD have been" or some such. Basically, it's realizing my mom's a dick, I'm not participating, and being sad when I realize that she is, in fact, a total dick.

It sucks. I don't know how people with full blown or chemical depression deal with this BS all the time. Huge, oppressive waves of sadness and overwhelm smack me out of absolutely nowhere, and it's miserable. The most miserable thing I've experienced, actually.
Today, I almost collapsed in the toilet paper aisle of Target in panicky tears, the choking, ugly face sobs you get when someone in your life has passed on. The last time I felt *remotely* like this was after the death of my grandfather, but he wasn't a dick, and was 84 and died of natural causes. My motheris still living(unfortunately, I think to myself sometimes, which is terrible but there you have it), a county width away, and has my phone number... until tomorrow when I change it, that is. I'm currently terrified she'll show up unannounced as is her wont, or come and snatch my son from the bus stop.
Oh yes, did I mention? Her latest evil voicemail was "I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but we want to see our grandchildren, NOW". I mean, thank gods my state doesn't have grandparent rights type laws, not that she'd have a leg to stand on under those anyhow.
I made the mistake of calling her back and told her she couldn't leave me shitty voicemails, I am not interested in letting my kids visit, and she needs to leave me alone. The whole time she was "oh yeah, you're doing this. You're still on this, you're doing this, jesus christ" like this is a Thing that I Do, some weird, mysterious, shitty, crazy Thing that I Do A Lot. The only Thing I was doing was delineating boundaries and informing her how I need to be treated if she'd like to interact with me... standing up for myself, basically. Which, honestly, with her this is not a Thing I Do.
I'm cycling back into the shame/feeling insane stuff, and all of my meditation and neural re-directing exercises... NOOOOOTTTT CUTTING IT. The message board I'm currently on is way too triggering right now, and I feel like every dang word out of my mouth right now is about this. I hate that I'm in this shit right now, but I'll be damned if I do it for the next handful of decades that she's around.
Is it really so much to ask to be treated with respect and kindness? All of this because I grew a spine and demanded just that, amazing.
beemayhem: (Default)
So the shittiest thing happened this evening.
My mom decided that because I had begun to limit and severely moderate my boundaries while dealing with her (including defriending on facebook, changing my email, etc) that she would begin to start using my eight year old son to fuck with me! Doesn't that sound like fun?! Dysfunction, being handed down the generations. Perhaps I should've gotten the camera out and recorded it for posterity, possibly made a scrapbook page for the event.
What happened was I had invited my parents for a dinner at my house. Simple, friendly, normal, right? Not in my family, bub!
My mother has been stewing in anger towards me since my recent 3 week illness, where I had barred her from coming over. Because...3 week illness! Viral infections! My mother has the worst immune system, lungs, etc etc. I slept on the couch for a week, barfing and coughing. She took to stalking me, calling me twice a day, stopping by unannounced and uninvited and most certainly UNWANTED. I handled myself well, I was respectful but as firm as a sick woman with a sick family could be. Regardless, she's still butthurt.
And then she comes to a nice dinner at my home, which my husband invited her and my dad to, with all of her butthurt. She spends all of said dinner evil-eyeing me, icing me out, undermining my parenting ("no, you don't have to finish, _____(grandkid), it's fine!"), and finally completely getting herself banned from my home for good by taking ONE of my kids down to the store for dessert and leaving the other behind and treat-less. This is a chronic thing with her, to favor my son and assume my three year old daughter is a complete imbecile that doesn't notice blatant favoritism and/or being left out of absolutely everything. She also spent the whole evening, as a 52 year old woman, on the floor of my son's room, making fart noises through the bottom crack of the door. The rest of us adults were watching some weird movie, which is pretty typical for dinners or get-togethers. Her playing in my son's room and ONLY hanging out with my son is decidedly Atypical and was noted by all in a weird, uneasy, side-eyeing one another with incredulity sort of way. It sounds funny, until you realize how hostile and absolutely pathetic it was in reality.
So that, an unfair dessert treat, and insubordinate fart noises, have removed my mother's welcome at my home. It'd be kind of amusing if I wasn't so angry and my husband wasn't the one to enact the banhammer. To piss my husband off to the point of removing welcome is an amazing feat. During the fart noise, weird insubordinate inappropriate shit he was almost in a blind rage, tears and all. Fuck with me, fine. Fuck with my kids and use them AT me, fuck with my husband and insult and disrespect him, ESPECIALLY in his house? No.
This should be an interesting boundary to try and keep intact....
beemayhem: (Default)
After a few ill-spent high school years on lj...then sporadic adult ones on blogspot...and a horrible, scarring encounter with Wordpress (really, does anyone enjoy that UI!?), I've run across dreamwidth! Oh, joy! I know how to use this sort of interface. I think. I seem to recall. I mean...yeahhhh.

I don't expect I'll post with any regularity, as I'm absolute shit at remembering to post (or having enough self esteem to consider what I'd like to say worthy to put out in the ether). And I can't say too much of it will be entirely cheerful. I desperately need an outlet for this new, wonderful, and exciting life thing I am going through called "Confronting the Fact I Have a Mentally Ill Parent and Was Emotionally Abusive, Trained Me to be Co-Dependent, and Somehow Was Simultaneously Neglectful"! SO HEY GOOD TIMES. That should be fun to spew on here, I do believe I'm burning my nearest and dearest out occasionally, and that's not fair. To the internet!
I'm also embarking on a whole therapy thing about all of that too, and expect to do some writing or work on that here. That tricky self-esteem business, oh my. It's rough to do, especially as a lady with a ladybrain. I've really got to write and build myself up and stop people pleasing or performing. I'm reasonably certain it won't destroy me if people disagree with, dislike, or don't approve of me. A place void of anyone I know should help work all of that out...right?

This is not to say I don't occasionally have some very humorous or insightful or silly happy things to say, I'm just saying my focus is working and detangling and venting and ruminating. Kind of like a grouchy conditioner.

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BeeMayhem

July 2012

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