What is coming next

I want to start blogging more again. Maybe I can try for once a week. I realized today I have been blogging almost ten years. It takes some form of dedication or insanity to continue that long. One of the hardest parts for me is finding people I connect really well with and then they are gone. Maybe their blogging experience is only temporary. Sometimes bloggers pass away. That component is harder for me then finding things to write about.

This past week has been difficult/emotional in different ways. The job search has lead to several dead ends. I was selected for the lucrative job I took the proctored exam for. However, I am sitting in limbo. It’s been over a month since I applied. When I reached out, I was sent a form letter stating that I am in a pool of applicants and if/when they need me they will reach out. My test results will be on file for two years and if I don’t hear anything by then I am welcome to reapply. But I am looking for a job now.

A friend told me over the weekend that she knows someone who works for the job I am waiting on. She said for the first 6 months they had to work 3rd shift until there was an opening in 1st shift. I am not willing to work 3rd shift, been there done that and don’t ever want to do that again. I would be willing to work those hours once in a while but not often. I AM, however, willing to work day shift (early morning is fine), 2nd shift, weekends, and holidays. I don’t want to work a regular Monday through Friday 9 to 5 job either. I just don’t think it would be possible for me at where I am in my life right now.

As of this last week, I am now the successor guardian for my brother Matt. However, I am not going to do everything the same way my mom did. I am not going to cater to his every whim. This is going to be an adjustment period for all of us and I am going to be pulling off the band-aid. At first I felt a tremendous amount of guilt for doing things my way, the way I think will be the best for Matt. But I had to remind myself that I have taken on the responsibility to be responsible for my brother for the rest of his life or mine. I never signed up for this. I don’t want to have a brother with a disability. But I was willing to take it on even though it was not in my best interest. There are going to be a lot of things I have to learn.

This past week my mom had her neuropsychological evaluation we waited 5 months for. We will be getting the results this week. My brother Luke went with my mom and I to the appointment which lasted 4 hours. We had around an hour to talk to the doctor about our concerns without our mom in the room. I think we were listened to and adequately described the situation. The last few months my mom’s dementia has gotten worse and she reached a new level of raw unfiltered obsessiveness and self-focus. I think she may have more than one personality disorder on top of whatever dementia she is facing. Spending time with my mom is very difficult. I have to limit it to once a week for my own mental health. I had horrible nightmares the evening of her appointment.

This is why I can’t look for a 9 to 5 job. I have several appointments during the month during the day for my mom, daughter, and will for my brother Matt as well. Also, I would like to continue volunteering for several organizations during work hours. My husband and I just finished facilitating an 8 week family class through NAMI this week. We had the opportunity to guide ten other people who are new to mental health struggles with family members. It was great to use my experiences to help other people. We had such a great group and I am sad to see the class is over.

Every week I am looking forward to several opportunities to de-stress. This week I am planning on going to trivia night with friends. The first time we did it, we won second place. This will be the second time. After taking two months off to teach the class, I had to take a hiatus from stand up comedy. I will be doing stand up comedy this week. This weekend my son’s band will be playing so I am looking forward to going with friends and family to watch them perform.

I am also planning on finishing the third edition of my memoir this week. Last year I was planning on ending it but so much more has happened to write about. I feel like I finally found a good place to stop the story. My plan is to have it completely finished by April 11, which would’ve been my grandma’s 100th birthday. Even though she has passed many many years ago, I want to celebrate her day and the life she has given to me. Without her influence in my life, I don’t know where I would be.

Other than that, my husband and kids are doing well. It’s great they are all in a good place right now. I feel like I am at a crossroads of sort. It is a very uncertain and anxious time, yet on the other side of the same coin is a sense of anticipation and excitement for what is to come next. I might take some classes and go a whole different career route. Who knows at this point? I think I should have a lot of answers this week.

Breakdown

I think it started with the Mother’s Day letter I got in the mail Arabella sent me from the mental hospital. It was a well written heartfelt letter telling me what a great mother I am. When she called me later that afternoon from jail I was looking forward to talking to her. But since she wrote the good mom letter her mood had changed to me being a bad mom. The contrast from the letter to the phone call the same day I read it was from day to night. She accused my husband and I of horrible things to the point where my husband walked away from the call and I stayed. She blamed us for being shitty parents and that is why she is in jail.

It was that day I decided to let it go. I had to accept she is never going to change. Everyone had been harping on me to let go and let God. I don’t understand how people can find comfort in God. Although I loosely believe all I seem to find is anger and pain. I made the choice to let go and I stopped caring. I had finally reached the end of my rope. I drank more than I ever drank in my life. I just didn’t care. I didn’t even want to live anymore. I struggled with insomnia and nightmares. I woke up exhausted and my body ached.

Arabella called me about her delusion that an old friend of ours sexually assaulted her. She asked me what I thought of it. I asked her if it was possible she was delusional to think our friend raped her while she was sleeping as a child. She said what I was saying was correct, he didn’t rape her as a child but as an infant. She said she was planning on finding and visiting him when she gets out of jail. My stomach dropped. We have to find him before she does. He is in danger.

Meanwhile, my mom cancelled my dad’s surgery. I don’t think she wanted to take care of him after the surgery because she had plans for an extended weekend away to celebrate her sister’s birthday. She asked if I would take care of him. I told her I was busy. I had to work Friday and Saturday then had plans on Sunday to watch Angel complete her first half-marathon. Afterwards, Paul was going to show me how to do some paperwork for our business and we had some things we needed to do around the house because come Monday he was scheduled to work 9 days straight. It’s the busy season for our business.

My mom left anyway. On Saturday my mom asked if I could take care of my dad. She said he wasn’t able to carry food with his walker. I replied if dad needed me to help him give me a call and I would try to figure something out. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt. That is when the tremors started in my arms. My mom never responded to my text but decided to come home early. She posted a picture of herself at home that evening on her BeReal looking disappointed.

The next morning I started having tremors in my hands, face, and legs. I was having a hard time walking. I hadn’t been feeling well and had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for later that afternoon. My son insisted on taking me after he saw my tremors. At the doctor’s appointment I was tremoring pretty badly. The doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She ordered a MRI and took 15 vials of blood. I didn’t bother trying to hide how stressed and depressed I was. I was always mistrustful of telling the doctor about the severity of my anxiety and depression and that I have PTSD. I was afraid I would be committed and medicated. But I no longer fear that because with my daughter I realized how much of a joke the mental health care system is. I did relent to being put on anti-depressants though.

The tremors turned into seizures where I was fully conscious. I started to think something was seriously wrong with me like MS. I had other symptoms too. My eyes hurt. They were blurry, puffy, and very sensitive to light. At times I had double vision. I stopped eating. Food stopped tasting good. I felt nauseous and my stomach was upset. I only ate a few bites once a day after being forced by my family. I couldn’t even be tempted by my favorite foods. I was still experiencing insomnia. I felt numbness and tingling in my arms similar to the feeling right before a blood pressure cuff is released. My body ached. I couldn’t focus on anything and the exhaustion was overwhelming. I struggled at times to think and speak. I thought my life was over.

My dad was in and out of the ER. One day my mom posted a picture of him on BeReal in the hospital in a gown on a gurney with a nurse taking care of him. I don’t know how I felt about my dad and the possibility of him dying. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.

Thursday night Arabella called and said grandma was going to bail her out of jail if it was okay with me. We got into an argument. I felt angry with my mom thinking she threw me under the bus. I told Arabella she can’t get out because if she messed up again with the felonies against her it would mean prison. But she didn’t listen. Then I talked to my mom. My anger turned to worry. She was worried about my dad. She was worried because she thought my brother Luke was angry with her. She dumped her problems on me and I felt stressed.

By Friday morning of Memorial Day weekend my seizures got worse. I could barely walk. My mom texted me my dad was back in the ER. Then as Paul was checking on me from work, I had a huge convulsion where I fell to the floor. I hit my head on the refrigerator. Paul could hear me flopping on the floor. He called our son to come over and check on me. Alex found me convulsing on the floor. It wouldn’t stop and I had no control over it. Alex called 911 and told them to please hurry. He talked calmly to me, patted my arm, and told me I was going to be okay.

I could hear the sirens getting closer. The next thing I know there are a whole bunch of people in my house. They gave me a shot of Benadryl, but the seizures still didn’t stop. They strapped me in a chair and put me into a gurney then got me into the ambulance. They gave me another shot, this one was painful and the seizures stopped. They tried to put an IV into my arms but they both collapsed. They were talking about my veins out loud and I thought I was going to throw up. They finally got an IV in my hand. I felt tired and dizzy as I watched the traffic behind us as the ambulance took me to the hospital without the sirens on. I watched for my son’s car but couldn’t see him.

The next thing I know I was in an ER room. A few minutes later Alex and Lexi showed up with Angel and Dan. I could tell my kids were frightened and crying. Paul left work early and was on the way. My best friend works in the hospital and soon she was on her way too. They set me up to get a MRI right away, but the seizures started up again. This time they put me on a strong anti-anxiety medicine. Paul arrived right before they wheeled me into the MRI. I was in and out of dreams. I heard loud noises. My family went to the cafeteria and waited. They thought it would take a half an hour and it took two hours. They thought maybe I would die. At the end I was awake. I felt a lot of pain in the back of my head. I was becoming restless.

The doctor came in after everything was done. He said he was puzzled by my condition. The MRI turned out fine. I didn’t have a brain tumor and it didn’t show up anything concerning. They told me to contact neurology after the holiday weekend and sent me home. The seizures continued. I imagined my life in a wheelchair. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be a burden for my family.

My daughter cancelled her plans for the weekend including going out of town for a friend’s wedding. She worked out of my house. She did the cooking and cleaned my house. She wouldn’t let me be alone for one second. She didn’t let me walk alone. My son helped out with appointments and wouldn’t let me leave his side while he was with me either. My kids really stepped up. Even their friends offered to help. Arabella didn’t know anything about it. Even my dad called several times to check on me which was puzzling because of our relationship. In those ways, it brought us all closer.

For the first few days everyone was amazing. They treated me like I was on my deathbed, all hugs and love you’s. Everyone thought I could die. Then they became desperate. My husband was sobbing because he felt helpless and didn’t understand why I was suffering the way I was. He never cries. He became a Google doctor. He thought maybe this was a side effect of my sleeping pills. He wanted me to stop taking them. So did my son. His girlfriend and Angel thought it was dangerous to just stop taking my meds. They were discussing me like I wasn’t even there. No one knew what to do.

Meanwhile, my mom went up north for the holiday weekend and left my dad home alone. My dad ended up falling in the middle of the night and calling the rescue squad. My sister-in-law Carla got into a fight with my mom up north. She screamed at my mom out in the yard, regardless of the neighbors around, for cancelling my dad’s surgery and not taking good care of him. She totally lost her shit and my brother Mark had to leave with her.

Arabella yelled at Paul saying he turned grandma against her. She said someone in jail might pay her bond if she does special favors for them when she gets out. My daughter could be showing up on our doorstep at any time. Without talking to me Paul asked my parents if they would take her in if she shows up. My dad went to the ER again. My mom told us my dad wants to die. Paul said to her well join the club. I thought my husband was going to have a heart attack he was so stressed.

I kept having seizures. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to die. At other times I felt a great amount of fear like I was going to be attacked. Any small thing could set me off.

They told me to get an appointment with the neurologist after the holiday weekend. The earliest they could get me in was the middle of July. They told me to call everyday to see if there were any cancellations. I was able to get in the end of the week. My husband raced me there like I was going to the ER. He was incredibly stressed and almost got into a couple accidents on the way. As I was sitting in the full waiting room I started having convulsions again. I started crying saying I didn’t want to do this anymore. They took me in to do an EEG right away. They also took 8 more vials of blood.

Although I didn’t get all the test results back yet, the nurse said she couldn’t find anything wrong with me. She basically told me in a polite way that it was all in my head. She didn’t think it was ALS or MS, she thought it was from stress. My husband was overjoyed exclaiming it was wonderful news. I was pissed. I felt like something was wrong with me. I felt like I didn’t have any answers. If it’s all in my head why would my body do this to me? I can handle a lot of stress. I felt embarrassment and hatred towards myself. I just wanted to crawl in a corner and die. My husband asked why I wasn’t happy with the news. Did I want to die? I told him spending the rest of my life with a serious illness is not how I wanted to die. I just couldn’t believe my body would betray me like this. How could I trust myself? I had to cancel my motorcycle class. I’m not even allowed to drive right now.

After the appointment, I started to feel better. I’m not going to die. I started to eat again. Every day I’ve been having some small tremors but nothing major. It was a very traumatic experience for my family and I. Through it we learned some important lessons. I really matter to my husband and two oldest kids. They will be there for me if I need them. It was a wake up call to find a way to de-stress. In some ways it was a positive experience.

I really hope nothing like this ever happens to me again. I just wanted to explain what happened and why I was gone.

ghosted

I think my mom is mad at me. I haven’t heard from her in days. She is like that sometimes. There have been periods in my life where she has given me the silent treatment for days and then later acts like nothing is wrong. Or sometimes she smothers me.

I think I know why she is angry. Last week my mom was on vacation with her sister visiting their other sister at her condo in Florida. She called me almost every day she was gone. The first time she called on speaker phone wanting an update about Arabella. I was really annoyed by that because, although I don’t mind my aunts and uncles know my daughter is in jail, I didn’t want to talk to them about it. It was during that conversation my mom told me something was wrong with my dad but she didn’t know what because he didn’t tell her while she was on speaker phone.

One day she called wanting me to go check on my dad because he didn’t pick up his phone when she called him. My dad doesn’t live next to his phone. I told her he probably forgot to charge it. It turned out not to be a big deal. My mom calls wolf a lot so it’s hard to believe anything she says. A couple months back my brother Luke wasn’t feeling well. My mom thought his kidneys were failing because he has kidney disease and practically asked me if I thought my husband would be willing to give my brother a kidney. It turned out being a virus or something and he wasn’t dying. I take everything my mom says with a grain of salt.

The next evening my mom called while I was driving for a night out to go to the film festival with Paul, Alex, and Lexi. I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t answer my phone. My mom is known for catching me when I’m off to do something fun and guilting me about it bringing me down. When I didn’t answer, she called Alex. She never calls my son so I knew she was tracking our location and knew he was with me. Alex called her back and she dumped all her problems on him.

The next day she called me again wanting me to go check on my dad. I asked her what was wrong and she said my dad didn’t get off the couch for a couple of days. I’m not sure why that was a problem because my dad hasn’t gotten off the couch for about 20 years. I asked her if he called stating he needed help and she said she didn’t talk to him for a couple of days. I told her to verify if he needed help before I drove out there. She never called me back.

I don’t talk to my dad, but I don’t not talk to him either. If we actually had a relationship and my mom wasn’t calling wolf all the time, I would’ve dropped everything to check up on him. I decided I don’t want to be a caregiver for my dad if he is in poor health. I don’t have that kind of relationship with him where I would be willing to do that. I have my hands full just dealing with my own problems right now. Besides my dad is a very tall and obese man and I don’t think I could lift him if I wanted to.

The next day my mom was back home. Later in the day she called 911 and she called late Monday night to say my dad was in kidney failure. It turns out he probably ended up getting a kidney infection while she was gone. She said he was probably going to die that evening then called Tuesday to say he was going to be okay. Wednesday Arabella was in court. I texted her with an update and she never responded. Then I gave her a call Thursday and she hasn’t called back yet. Today is Sunday and I haven’t talked to her since Tuesday. Maybe she is angry because I didn’t go into an anxiety frenzy or drop everything to check on my dad for her. I’m sick of guessing and stressing about it. I have no idea where my dad is right now.

I recently read a book about stopping being a caregiver for the borderline or narcissist. It really opened my eyes to a lot of things. I always thought as a child I was my brother Matt’s caregiver. But through reading the book, I realized I was my mother’s caregiver. I was the second mom. I was being the parent when I was a kid. It’s a little late, but I decided it’s finally time to take care of me. My parents are capable of taking care of themselves. Sometimes I have to set boundaries to protect myself. That’s not to say I won’t help if it’s truly needed.

I’m sure my mom will call in a couple days like nothing ever happened. Then she will be upset I am going on a road trip with my friends. I hope I’m wrong.

Too late

Last week was a hard week for me. Although I’ve been toying with the idea for years, I think I’ve finally accepted the fact that my mom is a narcissist. It threw me into a PTSD loop of nightmares, insomnia, panic, hopelessness, and despair. My normally high hypervigilance skyrocketed. One night I even awoke in terror because the furnace was making a different humming noise in the vent of my bedroom. I had to constantly tell myself I wasn’t in danger and I felt frequent paranoia I was.

I had plans with my mom on Wednesday which she cancelled and pushed back until Thursday because she heard the weather might be bad. It wasn’t all that bad, schools weren’t cancelled and my son wasn’t called in to work. So I made other plans for Wednesday. I had a lot of errands to run and was getting ready to go when my mom texted me saying she changed her mind and wanted to come over on Wednesday instead. I told her it wouldn’t work out and she said maybe Thursday which I replied okay.

Thursday morning came and went without a peep from my mom. Then she texted me saying she was going to come over after lunch. I told her it wouldn’t work because Arabella called and asked me if I could take her to her doctor appointment since she didn’t have a car. The morning would’ve worked but the afternoon didn’t. Then my mom asked me what time the appointment was and said she would come over an hour before I had to leave to go for a walk with me. I told her it wouldn’t work because an hour before I had to leave just wasn’t going to work for me.

Then I asked my mom if she wanted to go along with me on Sunday afternoon to do some volunteer work. She said she had other plans which was fine. Then she asked me when we could get together instead. I replied I had a really busy week but could get together on Friday, tomorrow. Then she asked me if there was any way I could make room for her in my very busy week. Again, I replied yes on Friday I have the whole day open.

On Saturday night I planned a birthday party for my best friend with our husbands and another couple. We had reservations to go out to eat and to a comedy show. Shortly before leaving my mom tried calling and I didn’t answer. While out with friends I got a barrage of texts from her. Are you mad at me? Why are you avoiding me? She asked if I was angry because she gave Angel a hard time. Lately my mom has been getting a rise out of me by targeting my daughter. My mom said everything was fine because she apologized to my daughter and I shouldn’t be angry with her about that. I ignored the texts because I was out with friends and wanted to be in the moment with them. But it was very upsetting to me.

On Sunday morning I texted my mom back telling her that she cancelled out on me and I had made other plans. I told her I tried to get together with her on Sunday but she had plans. She did not acknowledge anything I said and asked me again if I was mad. Then she wanted to know what I was so busy doing I couldn’t get together earlier. Well, yes, I am feeling quite pissed now. I hope tomorrow I get COVID or the stomach flu. Her controlling and manipulative behavior was very triggering to me.

I never considered until this past week that I endured a lifetime of narcissistic abuse from her. It was so subtle. She wanted to force a life for me I never wanted. She picked out the clothes she wanted me to wear. For example, for junior prom one day she came home with a prom dress for me to wear. I hated it but wore it anyway. She tried to dictate the music I listened to and even my relationships with other people. I was her best friend and she openly disapproved of everything I wanted that she didn’t want for me. She guilted me by always being the victim. I had to comfort her but she was incapable of comforting me. She is never happy for me. She never wanted me to leave her and live my own life. She always had her best interests in mind front and foremost. I never really looked at that fully until now.

Now as I look back at my life I feel this overwhelming grief. I lost my childhood. There was never peace and joy in my household just pain and suffering. Why do I expect to experience something now I’ve never experienced before? I have no idea how it works. Something as simple as peace.

I should have left a long long time ago. I grew up with my dad being emotionally/verbally abusive. He constantly told us we were stupid and his favorite thing to do as a dad was to terrorize us by the things we were most afraid of. Then there was Matt, my autistic brother who physically abused us. It was pretty bad. Then my mom with her narcissistic abuse. I am angry at myself for not walking away. I put my life on hold because I was the dutiful daughter always ready to help. My mom needed me. I went to the college closest to home. I went to college with dreams of being a counselor because I felt pretty confident I could do that. Then I could take everything I learned and fix my dysfunctional family.

The problem was that I cared too much. I got suckered and fell into the manipulation and control. I thought I could change things but instead over time there was new and creative ways my family of origin caused pain and suffering. If I could go back in time I would leave home and go to college in a place far away. I would’ve went to school for microbiology or God forbid be an English major working as an editor or writer. I didn’t even start writing until I was in my 40’s. (I did have diaries as a teen but my mom read them and got angry for what I wrote). I would’ve joined the college choir. But I wasn’t good enough. I was too stupid. An idiot who didn’t know how to do anything right.

I want to leave, I really do. What’s worse is that my son’s girlfriend comes from a family like mine. Because she is kind and compassionate I see them doing to her what my family did to me. When I hear about the things they do that hurt her I want to tell her to leave because it is never going to change or get better no matter how hard she tries. I want her to leave her abusive relationship with her parents. But how can I tell her that when I won’t leave mine? My therapist said it’s not too late to leave but I don’t really know how. At this point I feel like it’s too late.

Dream triggers

Last night I had a dream that I took 2-year-old Arabella to my parent’s house knowing everything I know now. For most families it probably wouldn’t be a nightmare, but for me it was. I didn’t feel she was safe around my dad without me and I had to go to the bathroom. I remember waking up with the knowledge that I had opened the door and once open it would be hard to shut all the way again.

It wasn’t the first time I felt this way in real life. My brother Matt heard voices that told him to hurt people, mainly little girls like me. He listened to those voices throughout my childhood and into my adult years up until he was medicated and those voices stopped.

In May of 1997 I graduated from college with a Bachelor’s degree in both human development and psychology with an emphasis in counseling. I was fresh out of college ready to change the world, or at the very least fix my family. In August I got married and by October I was pregnant. I applied for a couple jobs that I didn’t get. So I decided to continue to be a caregiver for my brother. I didn’t want to put my baby in daycare and I had zero family support. I was the family support for my family of origin and I was since I could remember.

Everything worked out well for awhile. I was able to care for my baby and Matt. Matt didn’t hurt babies. But then my baby grew up and I got pregnant with my second baby. Matt started obsessing about my daughter Angel. He asked what would happen if he twisted her arm or held her head under water in the bathtub. By the time my second baby was born I no longer felt it was safe so I stopped watching Matt.

I still had Matt be a part of my children’s life for big things like Christmas or birthday parties. It was on Angel’s 4th birthday when Matt attacked her in a room full of vigilant adults. With as many watchful and experienced eyes, we couldn’t stop it from happening. Afterwards, I told my mom Matt was not allowed around my children until they were big enough to defend themselves against a grown man.

A month later I was pregnant with my third child, a girl. I kept the sex of my child a secret because Matt was always more fixated on hurting girls than boys. My mom knew I was having a girl because if I wasn’t I would’ve told everyone. That was probably true. I was worried if I had a girl she would get hurt and if I had a boy he would turn out like Matt. I felt screwed either way.

Then the time came for me to have my third child. It was a scheduled C-section. I decided to have the baby later in the week so my husband wouldn’t have to work and could watch the other kids over the weekend while I was in the hospital. He had just started his own business which was the only means of supporting us financially so he couldn’t take time off. In those days, working out of the house was not yet an option.

My mom stayed overnight the night before then dropped the kids off at the hospital the following morning so she could take Matt to the dentist. She wasn’t going to help me further unless Matt could come along. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for that. Less than a week after having a major surgery I was home alone taking care of a colicky newborn, a 2 year old, and a 4 year old.

For the next several years after the attack my mom fought back hard against my boundaries of no contact. I was constantly stressed out during my pregnancy and for years afterwards by her actions. My mom at times would randomly stop by just to have my kids wave to Matt from the window. She was constantly trying to get Matt back in our lives again. She was always offering up help if I would just accept Matt in again.

Last week Paul and I were meeting with our couples therapist. She talked about trauma and how it could start even in the womb. This therapist also saw my mom and both of my daughters. She told me she thought I experienced trauma in utero. Maybe there is something I don’t know. But all I could think about is that I am to blame for Arabella’s mental illness. I am to blame for her being a difficult baby because all of the stress hormones surging through me while I was pregnant. I know I shouldn’t think that way but I can’t help it. Never mind the smorgasbord of mental illness coursing through my husband’s and my genetics we already knew about and the random smattering from an unknown bio dad.

After several years, I opened the door. I allowed Matt over for a brief period of time during Christmas at a party I was hosting because yes I was hosting all the family parties in my 20’s. That was okay, but other things were not? My brother Luke had some of the same issues I had with my mom and brother Matt.

The dream awakened all of this within me. But now it also has to do with my dad. All I could think about is one of the images Angel told me about that she found on my dad’s computer. It was a photo of a naked little girl crying. That was one of the tamer pictures but maybe the one that hit me the hardest for some reason. I keep imaging that little girl as myself, the picture of what my inner child must look like alone, vulnerable, and crying. By the time these images were found and my daughter went to the police, my kids were almost fully grown. Luke, however, had two little girls the same age as the images of the children. It felt like it was starting all over again but this time instead of being Matt it is my dad. All of our children with the exception of Arabella have not seen or spoken to my dad in over three years.

I’m not sure if I will ever get over the trauma. I feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life stuck in other people’s problems, people who should of been my rock, comfort, and support which were not.

This uncertainty, part 1

Lately I’ve been struggling a lot with indecision and uncertainty. Where do I even begin?

I’m not certain how I feel about my mom right now ever since she sent a picture to my daughter of her ex-boyfriend on her wedding day. Last week I talked to my therapist about it. She asked me how I don’t hate my mom. I don’t really…hate my mom. I just need space.

I just don’t understand how she could do something like that. Was it intentional? She had to dig back pretty far into her photos to find that one. Was she jealous my daughter asked me to be a bridesmaid? She is always making comments…must be nice…but it doesn’t sound nice. She was the one blemish on an otherwise perfect wedding day. My therapist said it doesn’t matter whether it was intentional or not. The issue is that my mom is always being the drama queen.

If it’s not one thing it’s another to try to get my attention. My mom has been to urgent care twice in the last week or so. Neither time for anything serious. The last time it was for a fever of 100. She has been calling and texting about how sick she is.

I’ve only seen her twice since the wedding a month ago. It’s been nice. I think twice a month is enough for me. But I know if I push back she is going to smother me. I just don’t know if it’s worth the fight.

I have to start planning Thanksgiving and Christmas. That’s another thing, my mom never once hosted those holidays. I started taking it on after my grandma no longer could when I was in my 20’s. Seems kind of young looking back now. I think I feel a lot of resentment towards my mom for that. Sometimes my brother Luke would take it on and he’s younger than me.

This year everyone is invited to the big extended family Christmas party regardless of vaccination status. Last year we were not invited because my household is of a mixed status. Now we are invited but I don’t really want to go. I probably will anyway because the aunts and uncles that are currently not in the family feud went out of their way to be great towards my daughter on her wedding day. Better than my mom was. Actions speak louder than my mom’s words. She sometimes exaggerates things to stir up drama and I can’t overlook that.

I’m not really sure what to do about my mom and my relationship with her. So far I’ve opted to do nothing and be noncommittal which is the opposite of how I try to live my life. I don’t know seems to be my answer for a lot of things these days and I don’t really like it. I’m the type of person who always has to have a plan.

My mother is a narcissist

Looking back it seems so obvious. Right now I’m feeling glad my mom sent my daughter a picture of her ex-boyfriend on her wedding day. I am angry, upset, confused, and sickened by it too. But what I am glad about is that this has been a wake up call for me. Anything else I could accept or take, but not this.

My whole life my mom has been manipulative and controlling. She had a way of making me feel guilty for not wanting to be the person she wanted me to be. She didn’t like my friends, my hobbies, the music I liked or the clothes I picked out to wear. She didn’t even like my husband when she met him and tried to set me up with my ex-boyfriend. Nothing was wrong with my choices, she just didn’t like them and made me feel bad for wanting something different.

She wanted to be the favorite grandma to my kids and often bought them expensive gifts the other grandma couldn’t afford. She used her money to control. She used guilt. She always tried to push back on boundaries. Her favorite cards to play are victim, martyr, and heroine.

I was thinking a lot the last couple days and I have a lot more thinking to do. The main reason why I was angry at my siblings in the past and more recently with my Aunt Jan was because of things my mom said they said about me or my family. There is a hint of truth in what she says, but she exaggerates it causing drama. I can’t believe anything she says.

My mom always wants to be the center of attention. She was angry she didn’t get to sit facing the head table. She was probably upset my dad couldn’t be there. She was probably upset my brother Matt couldn’t go to the ceremony. But what I think really upset her was the fact that I stood up in my daughter’s wedding. Lately she has been making passive aggressive comments towards me in jealousy. She is never happy for me. It must be nice that you get to do things I never got to do…

I am trying to turn something negative into a positive. Don’t get me wrong, I am still pretty upset by what she did. In some ways it has been freeing.

Here are the ways I am going to deal with it in the future:

  1. I am going to talk to safe people as a sounding board. I am going to talk to my therapist about how to deal with this.
  2. I am going to be writing about it and processing it.
  3. I am letting go of my anger towards my aunt and other people my mom told me said bad things about me. Part of this is on me. I took my mom’s word to be true. Instead I should have called my aunt and worked any potential conflict and hurt feelings out with her directly.
  4. I am going to communicate better with my brothers instead of having my mom relay messages. Last night I talked to my brother Luke for an hour and cleared some things up.
  5. My mom is a toxic person and I want to limit my contact with her to twice a month. This is going to be really hard because she walks all over my boundaries.
  6. I want to be more genuine to myself around her.

These are all thoughts off the top of my head. I’m sure I will be thinking about it a lot more over the next several weeks. This has been a very eye opening experience for me and I’m just starting to process another layer of garbage in my life.

Wedding wild cards

I was feeling a lot of anxiety before the wedding because of the wedding wild cards, the several difficult people who would be there.

A few days before the wedding I expressed to my mom how I wished I had a dad who could be at the wedding celebrating with us. My mom took it to mean I wanted my dad at the wedding and went on to say Angel needs to forgive my dad in order for God to give her forgiveness. I decided to let that conversation go. Even if everyone forgave my dad, it still wouldn’t give us the kind of relationship we wanted with him.

My mom invited herself to the rehearsal dinner which wasn’t a big deal. But while there she got upset about the seating arrangement. She was upset she wasn’t facing the head table and told Angel how disappointed she was in her. My mom didn’t seem to understand it wasn’t about her.

Later that evening, my mom said Matt wanted to attend the wedding ceremony. My mom expects everyone to cater to Matt. Angel told my mom Matt was welcome to come to the reception but she didn’t want him at the ceremony. Matt acts socially inappropriately. He often grunts, farts, burps, makes gagging noises, and stands up to kick his legs. If he has to go to the bathroom he wouldn’t have any qualms about pushing his way up the aisle oblivious to who was coming down. No one wants to worry about that on their wedding day.

I understand my mom wanted my dad and Matt to go to the wedding but because of their behaviors they were not able to. In a perfect world, I wanted them there too. I could only wish.

I really wasn’t expecting what happened next. While Dan and Angel were having wedding photos of just the two of them at the park, the rest of the wedding party waited at the limo. My mom sent a picture to my kids and I of one of Matt’s birthday parties Angel’s ex-boyfriend attended. MY MOM SENT A PICTURE OF MY DAUGHTER WITH HER EX-BOYFRIEND TO HER ON HER WEDDING DAY!!! I was pissed. Do you understand why I was worried about the wild cards now??

Angel left her phone in the limo. I tried really hard to crack her code to get into her phone and failed. I was worried she might get locked out of her phone. One of her bridesmaids decided to take the phone to Angel to get the code under the guise of us wanting to use it to take pictures then deleted the photo. None the wiser. It was really stressful and I was embarrassed in front of the wedding party about how dysfunctional my family is. I texted my mom and asked her what she was thinking. She texted back, guess I wasn’t thinking.

Everything was going great up until that point, then my mood just crashed. Inside of me my blood was boiling. On the outside I was trying to pretend everything was fine. Of course my daughter Angel can read me like a book. She asked me what was wrong, I replied nothing. She was getting really anxious so I ended up telling her. Your grandma sent a picture to you of you and your ex-boyfriend on your wedding day.

It was the last thing I was expecting. I was thinking maybe Alex would be late for something, but Alex and Lexi were on time and very involved the whole weekend. Everything went great with Arabella too. She could tell I was stressed so Will and her came back to clean up between the ceremony and wedding. Will accidentally put dish soap in the dishwasher which created a big bubbly mess. The dishwasher was running when we got home, when I went to bed, and the next morning when I got up. It wouldn’t shut off with the bubbles so high. But how could I be upset with good intentions?

But why did my mom send us a picture of Angel and her ex on her wedding day?? What was that? I had an amazing time at the wedding but I was pissed. Then my mom went up to randomly give a speech after the best man and maid of honor saying how she gained a grandson.

I decided I was going to confront my mom. She hurt my daughter and son-in-law on their special day. I was just so angry. I want a peaceful life, but sometimes you have to confront people especially apparently in my family. I was ready to chew my mom out, but she came over apologetic and crying hysterically. Will I forgive her? She will never be able to forgive herself until the day she dies. I found myself comforting her instead of confronting her. I had to be the mature one. I just fell back into the same old pattern. Then my mom went over to apologize to my daughter and her husband.

I asked her why she did it and she said she didn’t know. I am so confused. Then she called me later in the evening and said that I was the only one who was really upset about it as if something was wrong with me. She had my dad on speaker phone and he was asking me how Alex was doing. I just need a break from my parents. I feel so upset and sorrowful over the hurtful things my parents do. I don’t want to let it bother me but it seems like it always does.

I am still feeling angry and sorrowful over this and have been crabby and moping around. My husband said my expectations are too high by thinking my parents are going to be functional people. I guess he is right about that.

Narcissistic worry

Last week I read a wonderful post about narcissism. Then I got to worrying…Oh my, am I a narcissist??

Growing up my life revolved around my autistic brother Matt. It was all about Matt…Matt…MATT all of the time. I wanted it to be all about me. ME! ME! ME!
Aren’t I great??

I was on my own for a very short period of time. I graduated from college, got married 2 months later, and got pregnant 2 months after that. I have been a mother since my mid-20’s.

Right after I was out of my parents house (taking care of my brother)…I ended up having three children. Since then it has been pregnancy, having C-sections, breastfeeding, diapers, sick kids, lost teeth, sibling warfare, birthday parties, braces…to today where I have 3 teenagers. My life involves taxiing my kids around, dealing with difficult issues such as sex, drugs, and lets throw rock and roll in there too. Why not?? I have to deal with underage drinking, bad grades, messy rooms, rebellious attitudes…all the normal issues of dealing with teenagers…plus cooking, cleaning, and laundry.

I secretly fantasize about being an empty nester. I want it to be all about me. I don’t want to have to worry about anyone else…I don’t even want to have to take care of pets anymore. I am sick of having to get a pet sitter every time we want to leave. I hate it when the pets bring fleas into my house…or when the dog gets into the garbage…or puke on the carpet…the constant crying for food the minute I wake up in the morning or right when I get home from work…the poop on the floor right outside of the litter box.

Last month my brother Luke and his family lost their family dog. The were heartbroken at the death of a member of their family. Last week they got a new puppy. I feel guilty for not wanting any responsibilities. I will gladly take care of the pets I have until they are gone…but after that…I don’t even want a fish!

I am also a completely vain person. I envision myself always looking great in a bikini while I gaze at my reflection in the pool. I want to tell my classmates that I was carded this year. I am getting younger while my classmates are so old and weathered that I don’t recognize them anymore. I couldn’t possibly look as old as they do, right??

I also have Mary Poppins syndrome. I think that I am practically perfect in every way. I never admit to having any faults. I strive for perfection.

On a side note**I wouldn’t recommend making deviled eggs for Thanksgiving if you are a perfectionist! Grrrr..

As a child I was punished for making mistakes. One bad grade in elementary school and all of my dolls were taken away for a semester. I was so afraid of making mistakes and not being good enough.

Sometimes I think that harshest judges have been most harshly judged.

I’m working on it, okay?

Yesterday I just realized that my criticism and annoyance with others could be viewed as annoying..

As I sit here gazing in self reflection…I realize that I am probably not a narcissist. I just need a little responsibility free time to myself. I love my family and pets, but sometimes taking care of them all the time can be overwhelming. In a few years I probably won’t know what to do with all of the ‘me’ time.

I figure if I am so worried about being a narcissist, that I am probably not one. Narcissists don’t worry that they are narcissists…Do they?? No, just anxious people worry…Boy, do I feel better..

To think…for a few minutes I thought it was all about me!