My mother called me yesterday, to make a plan to see me while I'm in town. I had half hoped she wouldn't. Sometimes I don't bother to tell her that I'm even coming into town. I guess I must have mentioned this a while ago. She said, "when do I get to see you?" I thought, I could think of a nicer way to express a desire to spend time with me. My mother is very abrasive and abrupt. Caring and concern, sympathy, empathy, love - these are not things that ever come across when talking to her. I told her it would have to be breakfast - all of my other time is all booked up beyond capacity. We settled on Sunday, 9:30.
Dread would be the wrong word. But the truth is, I don't want to go. I just don't. I'll do it, but I don't want to. And here I am again caught up in the pull between doing what I want to do and doing what I feel obligated to do. The time I spend with her is out of a feeling of obligation, it almost always has been. It isn't enjoyable, it's uncomfortable.
Every time I talk to her, she sounds miserably sad and unhappy, and half the time, she is drunk. Of course she will not have been drinking by breakfast - not noticeably anyway. She's been lying to me for a while about whether she is even drinking these days.
The conversation will inevitably turn to something I don't want to discuss, like breast cancer, my relationship situation, my fertility - her favorite topics. When these things come up, it is like being poked with a sharp, searing hot stick, repeatedly, and she just keeps jabbing me with it. Then the conversation will turn to her misery, it always does. And I will find myself unable to bite my tongue. Then we will be talking about AA and recovery and why she won't get some help. Just like I do every year, once a year, I will tell her again that to change our relationship, she will have to take responsibility. I'll talk until I turn blue in the face and then I'll leave and she'll go home and drink. Like I've said, there is nothing else I can do to help her. I know that.
I'm just afraid that one of these times, I'm not going to be able to control what I'm saying. One of these times I am going to tell her everything about how I feel - about our childhood, about the way she treated me, about how horrible it was, about how messed up I feel, about how cheated I feel. I could go on and on and on and on. One of these times, it's just going to come out. The only problem is, what's the point? She doesn't care. I've never even gotten an apology out of her, for anything that happened.
The most my mother has ever been willing or able to say in the way of taking responsibility is this, she actually said this to me once, a couple of years ago, "I know I was a terrible mother, but you are an adult so that's your problem now. It's your problem to deal with whatever issues you have because of it." Yes, on the one hand, that's right - my issues are my responsibility, most certainly. But she is not absolved.
At the end of the conversation, she said, "I'll see you this weekend. I'm looking forward to it."
There was a long pause. An obviously long pause. A noticeably long and misplaced pause. An uncomfortable pause. "I am too," I said choking on the words. I didn't mean them.
4 comments:
LAS, I am so sorry you feel this way. After reading this, though, my initial response is that it might be really good for you to just let it all hang out. Tell her. Tell her everything. You can start off by saying that you are an adult and that you know you have to stop looking to her as blame for everything that is wrong with your life - fine. That's part of growing up. But you have so much to say and if the relationship is this damaged anyway, why not give you both the opportunity to just get it all out there? Maybe? Or is that just crazytalk?
Your mother avoiding conversation that YOU need to talk about, BUT rather forcing out-of-bound conversation is so typical of what my mother would do.
Fortunately, I have the kids to buffer the conversation. Y'know, like, Ace got a 100% on his spelling test today, kind of thing.
There's also a big difference between what your heart wants and what your brain knows. Once you are able to find your emotional needs satisfied elsewhere, I would imagine that you wont feel so drained. Who knows maybe volunteering at an old age home, where someone has the reverse problem might be helpful?
Oh and if you ever want me to shut up, just email me with "shut up" in the subject line.
I'm sorry. It's hard to have a hard relationship with your mother. I know.
And I can't blog about it, because she reads mine.
I know what you mean. You have all my sympathy and I wish I could give you something more than that.
Post a Comment