Now, I am the Master
It’s been a bit of a drama-ride here the last few days.
I didn’t realize it, but since Christmas Day my parents have felt slighted in some way. I’m pretty sure it has to do with not having activities with Noah arranged for them (I left it at “call anytime if you want to come over or do something”) and Carl’s mother being here. But, my parents stopped taking my calls, some of which would have led to specific invitations. At a certain point I worried that they were okay, so I emailed them and my dad called with his version of events. (”Your mother and I are very disappointed.”)
In the language of other families this might be minor, but in the language of our family this is a signal from my mother (with whom my father always agrees; agrees being too weak a verb here - it’s more like “into whose interpretation of the world my father always enters”) that she is displeased and that steps must be taken. (By others.)
In therapy we dealt with a number of these kinds of episodes and my therapist occasionally recommended that we sever, or severely limit, contact with my mother. I’m never sure how all this looks from the outside but from the inside, that is me and Carl and Anna and others who have been involved for years, it seems to be pretty clear that this kind of thing is disruptive.
It’s disruptive mostly because the offense, whatever it is — and I will state for the record that I think in families we do often trip over each other — is never outright expressed. You are supposed to know what you did (and weirdly, you often can tell from the way the phone rings that something is brewing). It is always your fault and never a miscommunication or a shared problem. And it is your job to fix it. And until you do, affection is withheld. And you never really know when this will happen or over what.
It’s been a few years since something like this came down, particularly over the holidays, and I admit I had dropped my guard. I made my mum a pretty special dish over the holidays and I had spent a fair amount of time sourcing her gift and basically, I felt like I had put the effort in. So it was a surprise that in her mind, I suck. So one of the reactions I’m having is related to the cold icy water of it. I have in the past deliberately avoided my parents from time to time, but this week wasn’t one of them. Had they called up, I would have happily made plans. The last plan that was made was Christmas Day and I made it, so I sort of felt like I’d done my part of the family thing.
Second though, what’s upset them is that they didn’t get time with “our boy” (this last phone call took place with three full holiday days to go, so they could have still had time even after the initial sulk). In making that the reason for the drama of the season, they’ve involved Noah. Oh, not in any huge way that at his age he would notice. But it’s unacceptable. It enrages me. I have been doing yoga and deep breaths for three days and I am still angry at 6 am.
I probably sound overblown when I say that but had they called and said “we’d really like to take Noah out” and I’d said no, then they would have a point. But to be sitting in their lovely home making shit up that they don’t get to see him, poor poor them, is making him the source of narcissistic supply. And I think, although I am trying to figure it out before I do anything stupid, that this is actually my true gut instinct informing me of this fact, and not just bad feelings from the past. I may be wrong, but I feel it. And I am angry on a level that I rarely achieve.
And finally, they are just not grateful or respectful to me. I am not a perfect person, but I am a reasonably caring one who does her best most of the time. And despite the fact that most Christmases between 1973 and 1985 I was being raped and abused literally under their feet, and that since then my mother has had many many holiday dramas about not getting nice enough presents, not being cared for enough, etc., I continue to put myself out to try to include them. And yet, I continue to be the closest available target. (And yes, I think part of the drama is because they have continually avoided their own work about that abuse by creating drama at precisely this time of year.)
If I were not a mom, I think I would finally have come to the point my therapist was hoping I would come to where I would say no, enough. Enough. However, I can’t just fly off the handle and cut them off without considering what the best path is with Noah involved. He loves them and I think they love him (I was sure, until this little passion play started).
But man this year it hurts. It just hurts. Noah’s at a significant age now where I watch him and I know that I was being abused over Christmas at exactly the age he’s at. And that’s hard. And work has been hard this year. And it’s the season of Emily. And my birthday’s next weekend. It’s never the best time of year for me. And they’ve chosen now to pull one of these stunts. I think I’m a little beyond achieving my usual “accept them where they are” zen on this one.
I’m still not sure exactly what my response will be, once they deign to be back in contact. I am sure that they have damaged our relationship and that I am no longer willing to pretend that these things don’t. I know that we need boundaries. But I’m not sure what they should be or how to set and enforce them. I’m not sure what’s best for Noah. A monthly visit supervised by Carl? I don’t know. It sounds cold and harsh. I don’t want games to be played with my child - and I don’t want to play them.
One interesting thing (and hence the title of this post). I did realize that the scales have tipped. If I wanted to raise the drama bar and win, I think, for the first time, I could do it. I hold the ace card (access to Noah) and the fastest communication tree (Facebook) within the family. But, I won’t. I have to find the line between protecting myself, and making it okay for my child, and making that clear - and behaving as if Noah’s time is something I mete out for good behaviour. That I do not wish to do.
I’m feeling rather lost; hopefully this is how one gets found?
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