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"Closer now, see the revelation..."
May. 2nd, 2004 12:01 amOde to My Family, Part the First of an Infinite Series. (really, humor is the only way I can stay sane right now)
Not so long ago I remarked upon what seemed like a fallow period in my self examination, a still point where all was quiet. Well, that's over, and it can get ugly in here at times. Sometimes I wonder (even though I know it's crackheaded) if getting my interior house in order is worth the mess it causes...I just remembered something![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firinel said a long time ago, about there being a point where everything looks horrid, but that's required, to make it better than before. That helps.
I had a bit of an altercation on the phone with my mother this afternoon. The conversation veered, and even when I pointed out she was hearing things I was not saying and contradicting herself right and left, she just kept going, spiraling into hysteria. It was a simple conversation, one we've had before, about needing to talk over the particulars of what she wants in the case of needing long term care. From there she essentially (and rather suddenly, as we've talked this over without conflict before) told me to fuck off, and she'd just 'grin and bear it', whatever that means.
I finally reached an understanding that will likely be obvious to many here - tremendous amounts of my energies are deeply entangled with my family and I get *nothing* in return. Hell, I can't remember the last time I was asked "How are you?" My family is deeply sick at its core, and if I am to continue to work with the parts of me that have been sickened by growing up in that environment, I have to distance myself. Not completely...yet. It may come to that, for a while, for forever, but I'll take that as it comes. In the meantime I have to come to understand and accept that for my mother at least, she is the center of the universe, and nothing else really matters. That's quite a pill to swallow - we're (I think) indoctrinated with the idea that our parents are supposed to at least 'care' (whatever that means) about how we feel, even if neccessity requires they do something that causes pain.
Hmm...I find myself having a hard time expressing myself, and I know exactly why. When the drama around my father refusing to get the cardiac cath began, I got a comment on an entry that hurt me pretty badly, accusing me of things I specifically made a point of acknowledging were *not* going on, and also of selfishness regarding my family. Apparently that comment got under my skin more deeply than I had thought at first, because now I find myself questioning my right to feel anything about any of this at all, almost a "Why should my peace of mind be something they care about, why should any of my feelings be something they care about?" On one level I feel like that's crackheaded, but I get recursive, and feel...I don't know, that I should just shut up and swallow it, or just cut strings and move on without...what?
Shit. I've managed to confuse myself deeply here. Damn.
Not so long ago I remarked upon what seemed like a fallow period in my self examination, a still point where all was quiet. Well, that's over, and it can get ugly in here at times. Sometimes I wonder (even though I know it's crackheaded) if getting my interior house in order is worth the mess it causes...I just remembered something
firinel said a long time ago, about there being a point where everything looks horrid, but that's required, to make it better than before. That helps.I had a bit of an altercation on the phone with my mother this afternoon. The conversation veered, and even when I pointed out she was hearing things I was not saying and contradicting herself right and left, she just kept going, spiraling into hysteria. It was a simple conversation, one we've had before, about needing to talk over the particulars of what she wants in the case of needing long term care. From there she essentially (and rather suddenly, as we've talked this over without conflict before) told me to fuck off, and she'd just 'grin and bear it', whatever that means.
I finally reached an understanding that will likely be obvious to many here - tremendous amounts of my energies are deeply entangled with my family and I get *nothing* in return. Hell, I can't remember the last time I was asked "How are you?" My family is deeply sick at its core, and if I am to continue to work with the parts of me that have been sickened by growing up in that environment, I have to distance myself. Not completely...yet. It may come to that, for a while, for forever, but I'll take that as it comes. In the meantime I have to come to understand and accept that for my mother at least, she is the center of the universe, and nothing else really matters. That's quite a pill to swallow - we're (I think) indoctrinated with the idea that our parents are supposed to at least 'care' (whatever that means) about how we feel, even if neccessity requires they do something that causes pain.
Hmm...I find myself having a hard time expressing myself, and I know exactly why. When the drama around my father refusing to get the cardiac cath began, I got a comment on an entry that hurt me pretty badly, accusing me of things I specifically made a point of acknowledging were *not* going on, and also of selfishness regarding my family. Apparently that comment got under my skin more deeply than I had thought at first, because now I find myself questioning my right to feel anything about any of this at all, almost a "Why should my peace of mind be something they care about, why should any of my feelings be something they care about?" On one level I feel like that's crackheaded, but I get recursive, and feel...I don't know, that I should just shut up and swallow it, or just cut strings and move on without...what?
Shit. I've managed to confuse myself deeply here. Damn.
