so... the visit

Oh, before I start kvetching about my mom, let me just say that while I thought I was just going in for a "consultation" with the doctor, I actually ended up having an EKG. I made the mistake of mentioning that I hadn't been to the doctor in a VERY long time and now he has ordered what appears to be every single test that is available in New Jersey at this time. I'm hoping that he's just ruling out any medical reason for high-anxiety, but  we'll see what the outcome of all this testing is.

(Seriously, I had 6 vials of blood drawn today, I have a stress test on Friday and next week I've got a bone density test, a breathing test, an echocardiogram, and an abdominal ultrasound. I mean.... REALLY)

Ok, back to my parent's visit:

The week before they came I started taking my "little friend" everyday, which made everybody happy. No, really my husband even commented on how much of a bitch I WASN'T being. Not only that, I was a much calmer mother to my son, not crabby at all. So the build up to their visit was certainly as frantic as usual, but not nearly as gut-wrenching.

My brother and his family came early and it was nice to spend time with them without my parents around. Everytime I see my brother, he's usually being an asshole to his wife, but it turns out that everytime I see my brother, my parents are there. Which is to say that he was actually pretty well behaved before my parents arrived. And he's also a dad now too, so that might be a factor as well.

But as soon as my parents arrived my brother became the bratty 12-year old and my mother started rolling her eyes and mouthing obnoxious remarks about my sister-in-law. She's mad at them, and she made that fact known abundantly.

I tried very hard to stay in the middle of the action as much as possible, because as soon as I was alone she would come up to me and bad-mouth my sister-in-law. It was awful to listen to, but the drugs helped. She also had a crying jag outside because she was not allowed to dominate every conversation.

It could have been worse. I might have been worse actually, but I didn't notice because I was too busy being calm.

.

Oh and my kid? Was awesome. No sensory issue meltdowns, and he was very sweet with his baby cousin.

I'm just very happy it's all over.

we survived...

the endless litany of abuses that my mother feels she has endured.

I have a feeling that this is the case for a lot of narcissists, but she constantly thinks that someone is slighting her.

Well, she's also paranoid. And actually, we are all sick and tired of her antics so maybe she isn't really that paranoid after all.

She continued almost without pause for three days straight, bad mouthing her other children and their spouses who weren't there.  Thank god for medication, because even with it there were times I thought my head was going to fly off my body and hurl itself around the room in a desperate attempt to get away from the talking, always the talking.

As it was, I medicated myself enough so that I could remain a fairly calm observer. At one point I realized that my medication was like Dumbo's magic feather. When she started to get to me, I would remember that I had taken meds and then calm down and repeat in my head, "She has no power over me, she has no power over me."

It sounds corny, but it totally worked.

So really, it should have been a horrible visit, but it was slightly less horrible.

She did apologize to me though...

Daniel accidentally broke something of hers. He still tends to flip himself about unpredictably at times and she has breakable things on every surface. And one of them was broken.

She flipped out like she used to when I was a child. Not nearly as bad, mind you, but still, not appropriate behavior for a grandmother. She accused him of doing it on purpose, and Daniel got so upset that he went into asthma-can't breathe mode.

I insisted that he apologize to her, because that's what you do when something like that happens. But he was too scared of her. So I brought the two of them together and told my mother that he was scared of her, after which he apologized.

I think she sensed just how close I was to packing up after that incident, because she apologized to me later. She didn't apologize for anything in particular, but it's rare that she ever says she's sorry, so I'll take it.

And now I have to prepare for a visit from my husband's side of the family.

They are all lovely people and I'm excited to see them, but I don't want them to see my house in it's chronic state of disarray, so it's off to do more cleaning for me.

A little bird told me what my mother said

I just got off the phone with a long lost "aunt" who was very happy to tell me all of the drama my mother has been stirring up.

It seems as though I have been portrayed as the one who is "punishing" my parents.  By not letting them see their grandson.

Oh, if only I could take credit for such wicked deeds!

What she told me doesn't really matter, I know my mother and the twisted tales she tells.

Except....

I only really know what she says about other people, and the things she tells me to my face. No one has ever told me what she says about me. I have often wondered what she says to my siblings about me, given the vehemence that she spews about them and their spouses.

So it's interesting to hear how exactly I'm being demonized. And how she must rely on her other children, because I'm so hateful. I love that she portrays that I'm victimizing her.

I don't want to be the good daughter any more. She sucked the life out of me for too long. So perhaps this news is good, I'm keeping them on their toes. Nasty ungrateful child that I am.

And the funny thing is that I've just been asked by one of my siblings to "fix" a family situation that my mother got her hands into. I think that I've had the role of ego-stroker/hand-holder/ and "situation-fixer" for so long that no one even recognizes it. It's just what I do. It's what I was trained to do.

I am so glad that by some bizarre twist of fate I married a wonderful sane man, who was raised by loving parents and siblings. Because otherwise, I wouldn't even know that my family's behavior was insane.

I'm going to go into radio silence now, no laptop for me when I'm with my family....too dangerous. Those people do not respect any boundaries.

Don't expect anything from me until after next week. Unless I freak out and come home early.

No picture today, because how can you express "I hate my mother" with a picture?

Monday was my birthday, so we did what any 18 38 year old does in New Jersey...we went to Six Flags!

Actually Six Flags is a good amusement park for me because it has lots of roller coasters so I can completely ignore all the spinning rides.

I can't really write more than that right now, because I've been in one long gut-wrenching panic attack since yesterday morning. I don't dare use any of my borrowed pharmaceuticals, because I will need them shortly since Daniel and I are going up to spend time with my family.

Hence the panic attack.

I'm having heart palpitations as I write this and waffling between feeling like I'm going to faint or throw up. Head feeling all float-y like a dissociative state is coming on.

I don't think I'm exaggerating to say that I'm terrified of being alone with my mother right now.

(Hmm, clearly I've hit on something there because I started to cry as I wrote those words.)

You might remember that I recently told her that I could not/ would not take some furniture from her. Expressing my own wants/needs/desires with her never goes well. Well, now she gets me for 5 days without my husband to run interference and 3 days when my dad won't be there either to temper her slightly.

I just know payback is on its way.

And yes, intellectually I realize that I'm a grown-up now and I'm not under her control.

But seriously? She created all those buttons I have that she likes to push. I am her finest creation.

Yesterday, I felt so sick all day, and then I got so tired, like I had the flu. But I'm only sick in the head.

God, how stupid is this that I am physically ill FIVE days before I have to go see my parents?! I hate hating them. But I do. I hate them. I don't want to see them.

There, I said it.

I'm really glad none of you can see me blubbering at the computer right now. Bird on my shoulder, son downstairs playing with legos.

I don't know what to do except to just push through it. I'm not going to stop contact.

Oh shit, his lego creation broke. Let me leave my blubbering self behind and go be a Mom.

Last week's adventures

I wrote this last week with the intention of posting it when I finally emerged from my post-parents zombie state. Ta-dah! I have emerged and here it is:

It's Friday.

Tomorrow my parents arrive.

Earlier this week my dad and I had a conversation via email about the dining room set bedroom set. He gave me the dimensions and I measured the room and told him to tell mom that I was sorry, but that the furniture wasn't going to fit.

He wrote back to say no problem, they'd have to figure out what to do with it, but don't worry.

It all sounds so nice and normal doesn't it?

Of course I knew that there would be fallout about this, because of the 20 years that my mother has been trying to foist this furniture on me.

I refused to call her and walk into whatever she had planned, but since they are coming tomorrow, there was no way to get around today's phone conversation.

Here it is for your enjoyment and edification:

(me) Hello?

(my mother) How are you?

Oh, fine. Tired.

Yes, ME TOO. I don't think you understand how much you have hurt us because of the bedroom set.

No I guess I don't. Why don't you explain it to me.

.....(long pause where she doesn't talk. An old trick of hers that used to make me cry.)

Is there a reason why you don't want it?

It doesn't fit in my house.

But that doesn't explain why you never took it before.

We have always lived in rentals.

I have just been so sick about this. You don't know. I'm trying to get over it, but I just don't know if I can.

....(long pause where I don't say anything, because, well, she taught me that trick)

Well, I hope it doesn't prevent you from having a nice time at my house this weekend.

I hope so too. I just  don't know. Your father and I are just so hurt by this. (This is another tactic of hers, when I don't respond to her, she brings my father into it.)

Well, I'm sorry.

You didn't think of this before?

What? Whether it would fit in the room or not? When the house was empty, I just assumed that it would fit, I honestly never thought of the fact that the room only has one wall without a door or a window. When dad gave me the measurements it was clear that it just won't fit.

Your father and I gave that bedroom set to you as a wedding present because we thought it was SPECIAL to you. That it meant something. That is why this is all just so hurtful.

Oh. I see. (ok, WTF? I checked with my husband and he doesn't remember them giving it to us for our wedding. Besides what kind of wedding gift is that? They bought it at a yard sale when I was five.)

Yes. Now you see how hard this has been. And how terrible it has been for us for all these years that you have not taken it. It just seems to me that we are growing apart. And I think you know what I mean. (This is another classic move of hers. I always used to rise to it and tell her how much I loved her and all she does for me[?])

Oh, I don't know about growing apart, I think we are just all very busy.

No, that's not it. Your family should be the most important thing to you. (And again with the thinly veiled "you don't love me")

Oh, believe me it is.

Ok... had enough? It just continues along the same lines. Very difficult for her, hurtful, so sad, been wronged, ungrateful etc.

And then, twenty minutes after we hung up, she called back. This time because she forgot to ask me about something.

Midway though her question to me she blurts out:

"Is there something we have done to upset you about the furniture?"

I just wasn't going to engage her on this, so I just said no and then talked to Daniel while she was still on the phone. I'm quite proud of my self for refusing to be sucked into her mind games and guilt-trips. I hope that this bodes well for the actual visit.

Present tense: I'm still decompressing from the visit, but I have learned a very valuable lesson. Which is: pharmaceuticals are very very good. I have a long history of self-medicating when I was around my mother, the problem was that I wasn't using the right medication.

Mental Health Day(s)

Rather than simply ignoring the blog and feeling well-honed Catholic guilt about it, I thought I would be all official and tell you that I'm going to take a few mental health days.

Just until next week, when my parents have come and gone and I uncurl from the fetal position.

Just one little side note:

I always thought that when I moved from an apartment to a house, I would have lots of extra space.
But somehow, in my 2 decades of moving from rental to rental, I have managed to accumulate more stuff than I could ever possibly hope to cram into this house that I now share with the bank. I just want to know how that happened.

Oh oh oh... See, now that I told you I'm going to maintain radio silence, I have all these things to share...
I'm going to try something new with my parents when they come. Instead of beating them to the  punch  by being all negative about my life,  so I won't have to hear them  say  only negative things but rather agree with my negativity.... THIS time I'm going to be  positive, as in "Look at my  wonderful house, isn't it wonderful?"

Honestly, I'm not sure I can do it. The negativity runs deep in my family, BUT if I can, then perhaps I can pull off the "sincerely shocked look" when they go through the house and tell me how much they hate it.

And also, I'm going to take a pill. Maybe 2.

I'll let you know how it all works out.

In the midst of it all

When Daniel went to the old apartment the other day with his dad, they were reminiscing about all the things that happened while we lived there.

I'm not sure exactly how that conversation went, but the end result was a poem from Daniel listing his memories.

They left the poem for me to find when I went back to the apartment by myself.

Isn't it weird how love and pride makes your heart skip a beat?

Sometimes Daniel asks me if I think about him while he's at school, and I ask him back if he felt the hug that my heart was sending to his. When I read his poem, it felt like that...like my heart was reaching out of my body to find him.

I can't transcribe the poem right now - he's in the next room. But maybe tonight I'll post it for you.

The insanity continues around here. The apartment is almost done, I clean out the last of the trash today, and we scrub it from top to bottom on Memorial Day.

And then my parents come.

This is not a good time for me.

But once they leave, I can curl up into a ball, and then slowly emerge as a person again. I'm trying very hard for everyone's sakes to not get too miserable this time.

We'll see how that goes.

Catching up

Damn, this house is kicking my ass.

While I've been quiet over here, back in my non-virtual life we've taken down the trees in the backyard, bought a piano (a piano!)
installed rain barrels,
cleaned up a flood in the basement,
started composting with worms,
and mowed the lawn with my new push mower.

Did I mention I have 70-odd feet of hedges that I weeded and trimmed with a pair of manual hedge clippers. (well, until my neighbor saw me anyway and gave me his electric hedge trimmers - imagine how pathetic I must have looked for him to say, "No really, you keep 'em, I don't need them. You've been trimming that hedge for what? 3 hours already"

Yes, truly pathetic.

And I still have to clean out the old apartment.

Things look very suckish for the rest of May but I'll try to post a little more frequently regardless.

____________________________
On the kid front, during one of the many times Daniel announced that I hate him, he proclaimed that I was going to throw him out the window.

I swear, I have only ever thought about throwing him out the window, and even then in a purely metaphoric manner.

So when I protested that I was not going toss him headlong through pane-glass, he told me that I wanted to kill him.

Yes, this is what it's like in my house. If he had a British accent it could be a long lost Monty Python skit.

So of course I tell him that I don't want to kill him, that I love him and I want to protect him.

His comeback?

"You've already killed me."

"Daniel, what are you talking about?"

"Emotionally. You've already killed me emotionally many times."

That's when I swiped the cat's Prozac and curled into the fetal position. Because of course he's right. there have been many times that I have done exactly what my mother did to me. It's what I know. And it's what comes out of my mouth when I get stressed out.

This child will either make me a better person or give me a nervous breakdown. It seems to be his goal in life.

pre-mother's day agida

photo by Mr.Tea

My mother is a narcissist.
As you know.

Mother's Day tends to be kind of hard for me. What with the whole "Mother" stereotype thrown about everywhere, and the obligation to honor her as a goddess of nurturing and love.

It can be upsetting.

So....

I had to buy Mother's Day cards today.

No big deal.

Hallmark makes it so easy with all their ready-made cards.

But I have the hardest time with the cards.  Try as I might I can never find one that says:

Mom,
You kind of suck.
Glad we're not together on this special day.
Happy Mother's Day

Not that I'd be able to send that card anyway, but it would make me feel better to see it in the store at any rate.

Today at the CVS I became ill looking at all those Mother's Day cards.

Not, "ooh these cards suck" kind of ill...

More like, "ohmygod I think I'm going to faint, uh, or vomit, holyshit I'd better get out of here quick so I can hurl in my own home instead of CVS"

Actually physically ill.... because of Mother's Day cards.

Since I obviously couldn't stand there much longer, I decided to go with the "ironic" card choice.

No "simply stated" for me this year, instead I picked the card that was meant for the mom most unlike mine.

I think the card says something like:

For you on this special day,
You are always there to share in the good times
and to provide a shoulder to lean on in the bad.
You always seem to know just what to say to make me feel better,
and you bring joy to all our lives with your generosity of spirit and joyful outlook on life.

Happy Mother's Day

Or something like that. I can't look at it right now, because I still feel woozy.

I thought that understanding the narcissist that is my mother, would make these things a little easier. But instead it feels even more toxic than before. Maybe because I was in denial and tried to placate her for all these years?

My mother won't catch the irony in the card.
Which is good, I suppose.

you can't make this shit up

Sometimes my conversations with my mom are so bizarre that when I think back on them I feel as though I must have made them up.

The other day I spoke to her on the phone and mentioned that one of our trees was dead and I was going to have to have someone come to take it down.

Here's the conversation:


So mom, we're going to have to have one of the trees at the house taken down, because it seems to be dead.

Oh, really? Well it can't be that big, that won't be a problem.

Uh, no mom, it's taller than the house. It is going to be very expensive.

Taller than the house? No. Our tree in the front isn't taller than the house.

Well this tree in the back of my yard, is taller than my house. It's a Norway Maple. Right now it has these small yellow flowers on it.

Norway Maple? Never heard of it. Maples don't have flowers. It must be like the tree in front of our house. Ooh I hate that tree and all the little things that come off of it.

I'm pretty sure that it's a maple. I does have maple leaves. Those are distinctive. I'll make sure to ask the tree guy when he comes though.

Yes, you ask him, because it can't possibly be a maple. I've never heard of a maple tree with flowers before.

Uh, ok....


See what I'm dealing with?

I've told this story to several people in the past few days, and each time they ask if it's for real. And yes, unfortunately it is. But when I am alone, and I think back on it I feel incredulous myself. Can she possibly be that removed from reality?

This is nothing new in my relationship with her. In the past I would just give in to the bizarre nature of it and figure that I made it up, because, damn, it just does not make sense.

Oh, and the tree?

50 feet tall and a NORWAY MAPLE which ohmygod has FLOWERS.