Status Update

So, here is a very abbreviated version of what has been going on with the narcs.  I provide this update, so that it'll be easier to write out my next couple of posts.

In-laws = BIL and SIL have been a bit MIA.  They have been circling me wide at almost every event (which has been rare) that we've seen them out.  To my advantage, they've pissed off a few mutual friends, so we've been around them less.  We did see them lately, when SIL stood to he side, waiting for me to approach her to tell her how good she looks (with her skinny new ass and her big new boobs).  BIL skirted around me, but did manage to put DH on the hook (in order to relieve his own embarrassment at he situaion) by asking him what he thought of his wife's "fake" boobs.  Nice, really, nice.

The parents-in-law are coming for the weekend.  The whole weekend.  MIL invited herself (and then booked a hotel room, as no one offered up their house) and announced the whole weekend as a celebration for FIL.  We were initially invited to dinner.  Then, hints came in suggesting other activities.  It irritates me to no end that MIL makes these proclamations and then "suggests" we entertain and give up our weekend for them.  No thoughts or consideration to anyone else's plans.  And she is so damn good at covertly hinting at things to DH that he feels obligated to spend time with them.  It's a hard line, because I really have seen very little of them lately and DH wants to see his father, but on the other hand, I feel like then I'm encouraging MIL's bad behavior.  I'm anxious.  Very anxious.  But I'm remembering to breathe and that helps.  I've got lines prepared and some strategies at the ready.  Cross your fingers for me.

NM has been quiet.  She has not called me in almost a year.  I didn't ask her too.  I did tell her that conversations on the phone, for extended periods were hard due to always having children underfoot.  She must have taken that as a hint and stepped off.  I'm sure I'll pay for it come accounting day.  But for right now, it works for me.  She texts and emails a lot (every couple of days) and when it doesn't cost me too much, I reply.  If she baits or goads or hints, I just don't respond.  It has been working well.  But I'm suspicious.  Very suspicious.  She did pull a very mild stunt, to get at DH, but it was so small I ignored it.  Luckily, NM doesn't scare me.

I flew my family and I down to see my father a bit back.  It was a last minute deal, which luckily minimized the regret I first felt.  I had just gotten away from a visit from NM, and then had to deal with my father.  I stressed endlessly.  I do have a post in mind to detail some of the tactics I used to get through it all, but I'll save that for later.  For right now, I'll say the visit actually went very well.  I felt good leaving the visit (there were even other family visits mentioned, which I'll talk about below).  Step mother and I actually had a really good visit.  She was well-behaved and even offered me some moral support about my sister.  I've down graded her from narc to just an extremely overbearing, controlling, somewhat black and white, very opinionated, and a bit self-righteous person.  But she has a heart.  I saw it.  It's in there.  My father, is also a control freak, angry, self centered person who can be very irritable, but he is not a narcissist either.  And the visit really did go well ;).  Dad behaved himself really well and even managed a lot of self regulation.  He was kind and good to my children.  I actually got to see grandparents who are not trying to just get supply in return from the grand kids.  The distinction is subtle, but it's there.  There was an ease to it that I never feel with NM or NMIL.  I always have to have my ear to the ground with them.  There may be a post in this too; the differences in grand parenting.  But I felt good leaving the visit.  I held my ground, I was grown up, I didn't slip (too much) into feeling like a bullied child.  We had fun, the kids had fun, I survived airport security and two flights with two toddlers!

During the visit, I had a visit with my uncle and his wife.  It was wonderful and I felt like I belonged.  Like a little peace was place back in my heart.  This didn't last long.  We had all talked about a family reunion.  I offered to start an email chain to talk about it.  This didn't sit well with family members who felt a reunion had already been planned...yet they hadn't TOLD anyone about it.  Long story short, one extended family member, whom I've only met once, ripped me a new one for being ungrateful and in the wrong, although she never mentioned me.  Several relatives called me or my dad to discuss how horribly this family member had spoken.  But no one said anything.  No one.  The just let it die.  And so, I guess some reunion is planned, but no one will talk about it and lots of family members were given no voice in it.  One of my aunts kind of talked out of both sides of her mouth, and as the get together is at her house (and her DIL is the one that got on me)I don't think I'll go.  The damn thing was going to be complicated to attend as it was, and then when it all fell apart, I just gave up.

This reunion was the second time NSIS turned up the heat on me.  She sent me a quick line suggesting that this other woman was a peach.  I replied, "yes, she is."

My sister and I haven't spoken on the phone since 2 days after my younger son's first birthday.  At that time, she called, complained for over an hour about her boyfriend (and her subsequent fears of commitment due to our horrid childhood), and never ONCE mentioned my son, his birthday, or anything else that might be going on in my life.  I let it go, as I usually do, because I was actually surprised that she was exploring how her past was effecting her future.

Several months later, I heard (as readers may recall) from an extended family member that my sister (very young sister) had cancer.  Lots of drama ensued.  I fielded lots of calls from hysterical NM and my upset father.  NSis had announced, late at night, that she had cancer and then quickly took it down.  She did not call me or my father and had not mentioned it once to NM, who had visited just weeks earlier.  There was a lot of confusion.  I refused to call my sister, as I felt that she needed to call me.  I wasn't trying to be a brat.  I wanted to respect her privacy, allow her the time to reach out to me, or just plain give her breathing room (which I surmised is what I would have done with any other grown up who had chosen not to call me.)  I waited for awhile and sent to separate communications telling her I was available if she needed me.  I didn't push or pry.  She replied back vaguely.  I knew that she expected me to hunt her down, pry things out of her, and let her play the victim.  Still to this day, I have no idea if she even had cancer.  But let me say, the circumstances around the event are sketchy at best (I have not spoken to either of my parents about this since November, as I wanted to quit having them be the middle man.  To my knowledge, neither of them really knows the truth either, although they both tried to help and both offered to visit.  She declined all offers of help except money.).  At the same time, NSis was going through significant problems with her boyfriend (violent issues) that were resulting in her possibly being evicted.   From what I saw, these issues with NSis's boyfriend seemed to be at the fore front of NSis's priorities.

Around late fall, NM called me, again hysterical, claiming Nsis was having surgery.  While NSis did appear to have some sort of medical procedure, the procedure NM called me about was not it.  NSis, in the midst of this NSis called me (While ignoring NM's calls.  My parents had become increasingly frustrated that NSis often was difficult to get a hold of, wouldn't return phone calls, and was clear with information.  She had also called my father several times in a screaming, hysterical fit of anger.  One time, out of concern for her safety, he had called the cops.  Oh, and also during this time my grandmother had a heart attack.  NSis was in such a rage at one point that she didn't even hear my father tell her this, but continued to scream like a banshee at him for all the wrong he'd done.  Then, NSis tried to play the "good girl" game and "reach out" to my grandmother.  She also had texted me at this time -in the middle of the night, the same night my father had told her the information - that grandmother had gone to the hospital.  Of course, I already knew this information and it annoyed me that she would text it to me, especially at 3 a.m.).  When NSis called, I was actually attempting to call my husband.  I accidentally picked up her line and immediately hung up.  When she called again and again, I was trying to call husband at the same time, and I believe I hung up on her twice again.  I was frantic to speak to DH first and calm myself down before I talked to her (she induces HUGE anxiety in me.  She is mean and volatile and screams at me.)  I finally answered, and what do you know, she laid into me.  Raged against me for not being there, ignoring her, blah, blah, blah.  I'll admit, she got to me.  I tried to rationalize.  I told her, calmly, that I would not allow her to verbally abuse me like she had my father. This ENRAGED her to a point, that I couldn't deal with it.  I told her to fuck off and hung up. (She later claimed I told her to fuck off and die.  Funny how narcs can add or delete words to amp things up.)

She continued to try to reach me.  I informed her that I would be contacting her through email only.  I told her that I would email her when I could to explain my feelings.  She harassed me with texts all through Thanksgiving.  Telling me she missed her sister.  Blah, blah.  Give the kids a hug for me.  Blah, blah.

I did send her an email.  A thoughtful, calm email in which I stated some basic things that had led to me moving away from her (I avoided details, as I felt that it would just bog us down in that, which wasn't the point.  It was the patterns of her behavior which I needed to address).   She replied that she was stunned.  She laid into me with blame, shame, and anger.  Told me how horrible I was for not supporting her medical bullshit.  How dare I criticize her, she wanted to know, when she was struggling so hard.  She told me that she would get back to me more when she could wrap her head around the craziness that I had emailed her.  (For what it's worth, I had two fellow bloggers read and edit this email and help me create it in a way that was as calm, collected, and adult as I could.  I tried very hard to eliminate any accusations and just clearly establish boundaries.)

For months, my sister chose to not follow up with her thoughts she had promised.  She sent a quick reply text to one I sent for her birthday.  There may have been a quick text at Christmas.  I don't remember now.

Shortly after NM visited in February, I received the email she'd promised.  This email was coincidentally timed after my mother's visit, when I am certain that NM relayed the news that my family would be visiting my father.  This email too was wretched, really.  Again full of gas lighting, crazy making, shaming, projections.  She played the victim and the martyr too.  If I wasn't worried about being found out, I'd publish her emails in entirety  as they are such text book examples of narcissistic communication.  Alas, you'll just have to take my word for it (there are a few other of my blogger friends who have also weighed in on these emails and have come to the same conclusions as me about them.)  At the bottom of the message, NSis got to her real point.  She ordered me to at least "respect" her enough to not discuss our issues with mom and dad and make them go betweens.  This part is so laughable but so clearly outlines her fucked up thinking.  I had not discussed NSis with my parents since November and I had, in fact, clearly told my parents that I would no longer be discussing NSis or accepting any information about her.  If NSis wanted to reach me, she could.  NSis's accusations that I had been discussing her behind her back was pure projection and an attempt to control triangulation for her own uses.

I replied that I would be responding to this email, but later.  She replied, "thanks. I appreciate that." or something similar.  Two minutes later, she sent another email asking if I liked a piece of furniture she wanted to buy.  WTF?  Last I'd heard, she was broke.  And beyond that, how the hell did we get back to playing pretend and offering up sisterly advice on furniture?  I supposed that since she had gotten all of her feelings out and raged against me, she felt better and it was over for her.  She got "back" at me for not supporting her and then moved on.

The trip with Dad went well, as described above, and we actually never mentioned NSis. I did talk to step mom one night, not really discussing NSis, but telling step mom how hard it's really been for me and that I hoped my father could understand that I am trying to protect myself (he has always stated I owe NSis nothing and am not responsible for her.)  Step mother was kind and supportive.  During this trip, the family reunion came up.

First, NSis sent the "peachy" remark.  Then, NM stepped in as a flying monkey, describing how sad NSis was that she couldn't go to the reunion, as she didn't have a ride.  The stench of obligation was all over the email.  I could guess what she was hinting at.  I ignored this email.  NSis brought up on the family email chain that she didn't have a ride either.  I ignored this too.

Last week, NSis sent me a text saying she'd sent my kids a package and to let her know when it gets there.  Strange....(not really).  She hasn't sent (or even acknowledged) my kids on their last two birthdays for one and one birthday for the other or on Christmas.  One Christmas she told me that she was too broke for gifts for the kids, but then spent hours on the phone agonizing over what to buy her boyfriend.  And it's not about the gifts, but the total lack of thought for them.  So, the "gifts" arrive.  This reeks of lame attempts to get me back into the fold.  And I'm angry that she thinks sending a package will somehow make me forget that she's treated me like dirt, very recently.   I text her back saying we received it, the kids enjoyed it, and thank you.

Two days later (the email was sent in the middle of the night, I suspect she'd been drinking), I received an email demanding all of the family photos be sent to her.  That I was keeping her "childhood" from her.  That I had no right to keep them and that NM had given them to me expecting me to "do right" by them.  Um, OK. NM did give me the family photos, as she was sick of storing reminders of her ex-husband and I am the responsible one.  NSis has destroyed or lost many family memories before this.  And besides, I had never suggested that I wouldn't give her her share.  Again, this was a clear manipulation tactic.  And I bit.  I'd been trying to figure out a way to communicate to her a response to her email, and this was a clear opportunity.

I wrote back an email, clearly stating my boundaries again.  I pointed out her manipulations and gas lighting and stated I wouldn't be falling for her accusations and guilt trips.  I explained that, despite her insistence that I was being sneaky and "hiding" from her and being passive, that I was merely taking my time to sort through things.  And that this time had allowed me to see that, no, things still haven't changed.

NSis wrote back a scathing email, degrading me and verbally abusing me.  She told me what a piece of shit I was and how disappointed she was with me due to what I've "become".  I didn't get this email until a lengthy texting chain which started with her calling me a "nasty bitch".  I was able to ignore the first few texts and phone calls.  Then she told me I was ridiculous and demanded I call her that day.  I took this as an opportunity to tell her that I actually do have other things going on in my life (I actually was really busy, but that shouldn't matter) and I don't need to drop everything in order to allow her time to scream at me and call me names.  She told me that she wouldn't call me names.  Um, you just texted me that I'm a nasty bitch. Between the email and the texts, she called me abusive, told me I was scum for reducing her beautiful gestures of amends to fake crap, told me I'd turned into a horrible person, accused me of triangulation (I told her I'd give the pictures back to my mother.  I mean, it's a HUGE box full of photo albums.  I'm not really going to send that shit), told me I was horrible for ranking her "out" of the family and pushing her out of the family.  Somewhere in there, she accused ME of withholding the children she never makes an effort to communicate with.  She told me I've turned into a horrible person and she's disappointed and saddened by it.  My friend Kara summed it up by saying she threw every narc trick at me but the kitchen sink.  As Jonsi said, it was "textbook" narc.    NSis finished up with a text saying that her only intent was to have a friendly call and "catch up" about "good and positive" things.  Was she deluded?  SHE started the communication chain by accusing me, basically, of stealing the family photos out from under her.  She called me nasty names, verbally abused me, harassed me, refused to stop when I told her I was done, and blamed it all on me and my defective personality.  What amazed me was her ability to shift tactics with in minutes.  It was like talking to Sybil.  One minute she was kind and nice and wanting to make amends, the next she's raging at me and telling me I'm worthless (she even threatened during one early email to not have a relationship with me.)I do wonder if there are other factors (bipolar or borderline) that play into her behavior, but regardless, she is dangerous to me.

So, that in a nut shell has been my life since Christmas.  I'm exhausted.  And tired.  And the thing is, I'm disheartened to know that it is never going to stop.  Even if I go NC with NSis, she will never let me go.  She'll always be there, waiting, to jump on any opportunity to get me.  I hate that, even with NC, ACoNs are left looking over their shoulder, waiting for the boogie man to jump out of the shadows.  That, even with boundaries, we jump at a phone ringing or get sinking feelings (instead of happy ones) when an unexpected package shows up.  I'm tired of the fact that every damn birthday or holiday or anything wonderful has to be mired with drama and crap.  Even if I've stayed out of the fray or walled me and my FOC off, they are still there, on the other side of the fence, waiting to engulf us at all times.  I'm tired of mending fences and using my sheer will to hold them up, only to have MIL barge through them again.  Any crack in the wall, is an invitation to engulf us again.  I'm pissed off that I've had to make decisions about my future based on what I can deal with from these people.   Or that we've had to bow out of things we loved, because the narcs took over.  This shit SUCKS.

I will say, on a positive note, that even as tired as a I am, I'm stronger.  And better.  They may be wearing me out, but I'm holding my own.  I'm not in a ball on the floor in tears.  I'm not wandering around like a zombie, unable to participate in life.  I'm not beating myself up at every opportunity.  I'm not perfect, I still have a lot to learn and do, but it's getting better.

Family

When I was little, family was the most important thing to me.  I was aware of my feelings in a way I doubt other kids think about their family.  I remember always wanting to be with my family.  I passed up on social events to stay home and hang out with my family.  I am allergic to animals, so I actually couldn't go to other people's houses as much, which just compounded the problem.  But I didn't mind.  I LOVED spending time with my family.  I loved my mother.  I idolized her.  I have a book I wrote about her, in which I embellished a small act on her part into her "saving my life" (I remember that's how she had conveyed the seriousness of the event at the time).  I wrote poems about her, poems about my family, homework assignments spotlighted my family.

I loved family get-togethers.  We frequently got together with my father's family and I loved it.  The cousins, my grandma, the aunts and uncles.  I loved being around different people.  We rarely got together with my mother's family, at least not all together.  But we saw them.  My parents had a couple of friends we saw.  I loved that too.

My little sister was my constant companion.  She went every where with me (except the times she went with her friends).  I watched her on every holiday and summer break.  We were in the same classes (mom putting me in the younger age group, so we would be together.  Always even.  Also, it helped NM not have to run around to double the activities).  My sister always expected to share my friends (and later boyfriends).  We were close.  She was violent.  I was afraid of her and her temper.  But we were "close".

But none of us was really close.  Not really.  I can look back and see how we all kind of just floated together.  Like boats, tethered together on the sea.  Bouncing into each other and near each other, but not really connecting.  We did lots of things together.  But I don't remember a lot of glowing memories.  I don't remember feeling that was of love.  NM and NSis were close, completely enmeshed.  And on occasion, they would let me hang out too.  Lots of times I was relegated to dad.  Working in the garage.  I spent a lot of time alone.  I read books, I played in my room.   I remember pulling together for my sister's homework as a team, but I don't remember anyone really being excited by anything I did.  I was just there, a constant.  I remember being asked a lot to accommodate my sister so she didn't tantrum.  She got her way a lot.  NM recently told me that sister had told her she was a big softie with us.  NM loved that she was referred to this way.  She liked being the nice parent (she used my dad as an enforcer).  NM was a softie, with my sister (and for what it's worth, the soft treatment wasn't preferential and most likely fucked my sister up completely.).  I was NM's assistant, her helper, her little me.

But I felt almost a desperate desire to be around them.  When the divorce hit, I was stunned.  I was 14 (ish, I really struggle to remember the exact order of things and dates.  It's all a blur).  I remember feeling like my family had exploded.  Like it had died.  We all seemed to be blown in different directions.

I was devastated.  I struggled so much with the complete dissolution of my family.  Everyone (except me) went crazy for a time; some longer than others.  I tried so desperately to hang onto the pieces.  To hold it together.  I remember feeling very alone.  Forgotten, abandoned.

Through my twenties, I did everything I could to improve the relationships with my family that were so rapidly deteriorating.  Every interaction with my sister and mother ended badly.  Fights, arguments  lots of tears.  I racked my brain about how to fix it.  My dad has always been distant, and continued to be (My father, not a narcissist, but a very self-centered person, recently asked me why I wasn't eating the eggs he'd made for breakfast.  I informed him, as I have on every visit in the last few years - around 5- that I have hated eggs since I was 2.  I've never eaten eggs.  Anyone close to me knows this.  He doesn't know it.)

I hosted my family.  I bought thoughtful gifts.  I supported my sister through every drunk, tearful, 3 a.m. phone call, and the various sob fests in between.  I watched her repeatedly create such horrific havoc in her own life - and consequently that of her "family."  Then, she would demand support, endless hours to vent or unleash, long tirades about how unfair it all was.  But no change, no attempts to grow up and make things better.

I had glimmers things would get better.  Moments that I thought things were getting better.  Break throughs.  And falls back wards.  Lots and lots of slips backwards.

I find it ironic.  Ironic that it is me that they accuse of not being there for my "family".  Of not living up to my obligation.  It's ironic that they accuse me of being "cold", and "calloused", and completely uninterested in family.

It's the same way with my in-laws now.  When I started out with them, I wanted so much to fit in.  To be a part of a big, "loving", family.  But twists and turns, and I've somehow come to be the enemy to them now too.  I'm the one out to destroy the family.  I'm the one on the outside.

I just don't get it.   Can't people realize that if I hadn't been about to kill myself, I would never have had to step away from my "family"?  That someone like me, who idolizes and worships her family, would never run for the hills screaming, if it hadn't gone very, very wrong?  That I'm not interested in being right, or having my way, or controlling the family.  That it isn't about some petty disagreement.  That this is about someone finally having to step away from family before it killed me or sucked me down with it into crazy town.

My Weekend in the Narc Hood Part 1

I've been rolling the events of my weekend around in my head.  I really wasn't going to post about it.  Because really I didn't know what to say.  And some of the details were other people's private details.  I've been (probably poorly) trying to limit (edit?) some of the details of my life to protect my anonimity.  And I didn't know how I could discuss all that's happened without compromising myself a bit.  But then I decided I really didn't care anymore.  I'm not saying anything that I wouldn't discuss directly with the people involved.  And it all just started to get so crazy, that I needed to write it all down; for myself, and for some outside perspective.

Before I start, I'll apologize that this post might be a bit tangential.  There is a lot of background and side stories that figure into the events (isn't there always with narcs?).  Also, I've been dealing with crap from both my husband's family and my family.   Although its all been going on concurrently,  I decided to separate the two situations into two separate posts.  So, here goes part 1:

I think my sister is going crazy.  For a little recap:  sister claimed several months back that she had cancer.  Cancer of the lady parts.  Which lady parts is still up for debate.  Sister is in her early 30s.  Sister was diagnosed in early 2012 (and all of this is speculative, because nothing has been directly told to me by my sister.  And even if she had told me directly, it's all suspect at this point.)  In August, sister announced, very late at night and on FB that she has cancer.  She hadn't told my dad and hadn't told me.  I reached out on several occasions to get her to talk, but got vague answers, if at all.  As I've been told, sister got radiation and hormone treatment (all as outpatient) once a week for a  month.  She was very vague with everyone.  She avoided all phone calls from my father and mother, or took them sparingly, claiming she was fatigued or too upset to talk.  She never returned my attempts to contact her.  During this time, she also ignored my son's birthday (nothing new, she's missed the last several) and ignored my son's surgery.   She took money from my dad, managed to go out and cash the check, but never managed to call and thank him or even say she got it.   She called my dad once and screamed at him for being a bad father and ruining her life (because of situations revolving around my parents' divorce almost 20 years ago).  She was so hysterical that my dad finally had to hang up and call the cops.  She also stated to him that her boyfriend is beating her (she has been in many relationships where domestic violence is involved.)  She cried that she didn't know what to do, and was unwilling to listen to him offer solutions.   During this time, my father offered to come visit and help or stay with her, but she told him it was unnecessary.  She called my father in the middle of the night, twice, the night before her retest for cancer with a "panic attack" (I have no way to validate it as a panic attack, but these were my sister's words).  My father talked to her for over an hour at 3:30 a.m.   My sister never called to let him know the results of said retest.

My mother (NM) has also had limited contact with my sister, but has been her unwavering supporter.  Although my sister has offered limited information, and often brushed her off, (and I'm sure also accepted money from her), my mother has repeatedly lobbied for sister's "support" during her time of crisis.  NM has admonished me for not supporting sister enough (during my son's birthday, and if you'll remember, they tried to have a little "reunion" during this time to show my sister support...during my son's birthday).  NM has offered up lots of excuses for sister.  She has vilified sister's boyfriend as an abuser.  She has found lots of ways to excuse sister from any and all responsibility for herself.    NM has also managed to sneak in a few jabs at my father (a man she cheated on and left) for not being their enough for sister AND for NM!  NM has called my father several times to discuss sister, for no other reason that I can see, than to create drama.  

NM sent me an email over the weekend detailing how sister and her abusive boyfriend had a nice weekend together.  My broke sister, who took off lots of time for treatment, took off several days to celebrate her boyfriend's birthday (included, I'm sure, was a nice material gift.  Many, many times, I've listened to my sister cry that she's too broke to buy Christmas gifts for her family-not that I expect one-and then cry that she can't decide which expensive gift to buy her boyfriend.).  Sister and boyfriend also went out and bought new items for their apartment (relatively pricey ones).  Guess daddy's check helped out right in time.

So, last night I get an email from my dad telling me that my beloved Grandmother had a heart attack and was life flighted to a larger hospital for treatment.  (Yes, the email was a horrible choice, one I would have been upset about, had he not called me today to follow up. )  A little more background, Grandmother does not like my mother and hasn't since the divorce.  She's never been calloused or judgmental  but my mother pulled some really crappy shit around that time (some of which was directly against my grandmother) and my grandmother has chosen to not want anything to do with NM (and fairly so).   Around 8 years ago, my sister went to visit my grandmother.  For some reason, my sister didn't feel like my mother was welcoming and kind enough to her.  So after the visit, my sister wrote a long (and not kind) email to my grandmother.  This caused another rift.  My sister, as recently as six months ago, said she really never cared to talk to my grandmother, and blamed my grandmother for the fight.

This morning, very, very early in the morning (read: long before most people are up) my sister started text messaging me and calling me in a tizzy over my grandmother.    I hadn't slept most of last night and I was not happy to get this early wake up call (also, my sister works odd hours so she's often up in the very early morning.  She thinks nothing of calling people at 2 or 3 a.m.   Often she is drunk and hysterical.  Often she's in a fight with someone.  She takes it personally when you are not there to "support her".  I've confronted her, and until today, she's stopped calling me like that.  My mother turns off her phone at night.  Dad has been getting the majority of the calls lately).  When I finally got up, I wondered what in the hell my sister possibly could need to discuss with me about my grandma.   It was almost like she was rushing to tell me the "gossip".   She obviously had no impulse control.

My mother also sent text messages.  In one, she asked if I was "doing OK".  Ever since I told her I wanted their drama out of my life, she treats me as if I'm just too fragile and "not strong" enough to deal with stress.  Stress is one thing, stupid drama is another.  In the next texts, she details that all the information she's managed to drum up from one of my relatives that she has contact with.   It really, really pissed me off that she felt I was not adult enough to get the information myself.  That she had to rush and get the "scoop" and get involved.  And that it was all for the sake of being in the middle of everything.  She also tells me that my dad "wasn't very forthcoming" with information for my sister.   And that my sister wants to call my grandma.  WTF?  I want to call and yell for her to keep sister away from my grandmother.  I mean, my sister is unstable, not particularily nice, and the last thing she needs is a call from my long, lost sister.  But I decide it's not my place to tell my sister (through my mother, none-the-less) what to do.  I'm really, really annoyed with both of them.  But I decide to ignore them.

My father calls this afternoon to update me and let me know what's going on (he had another family member's funeral to go to this morning).  He tells me that my sister called him last night screaming and verbally abusing him again for ruining her life.  Now, while I do agree that the period of time my sister is referring to did change our lives forever, and that she needs to process it to move on, I'm not sure how screaming at my dad will change that.  And while my dad can be a self-absorbed, selfish, one-sided person, he has ALWAYS owned up to his part in the divorce and the aftermath.  He has always apologized (a real apology) and claimed his part.  He may not totally get how bad it was, but he's always held himself accountable.  And after 20 years, and a lot of bad choices on my sister's part, she needs to take some responsibility for treating herself.  (And I've got to wonder in all of this, what the hell happened with her cancer?  It's all but been forgotten as far as I know).   My sister yells at my father for not paying child support and rationalizes that this is why he owes her money.  It's all his fault she screams.

And here's the kicker.  My dad tries three times (THREE TIMES) to tell my sister that my grandmother has had a heart attack and is in intensive care.  He told me that every time she just continues to rail against him.  Until he finally has to hang up.  And turn off the phone.  And it's not until this morning that she becomes SO upset about my grandmother that she makes early morning phone calls to me.

I've kind of had it at this point.  This is all so ridiculous in my mind.  All I can think is WTF?  What the hell is going through her little head? I've been wrestling for awhile with all the secrets about my sister that my mom and sister have had me keep from my dad.  How they collaberate in getting him to give my sister money.  How my mom boosts my sister up into believing he owes her something.  How my sister has flown off to visit her very abusive ex-boyfriend not to long ago (once in the city where my father lives.  Sister didn't bother to go visit my dad at this time).   How my sister lies and manipulates to get what she wants.  I struggle with how much this information is none of my business, and not my crap to tell, and I might be a gossip for telling my dad, how I really need to stay out of it and how much she is lying and manipulating my dad to get what she wants.  It's hard to know all these "secrets" of hers.  And to know my dad makes decisions on how to help her that aren't based in knowing the whole truth.   I have struggled with what the right thing to do was.  But today I told him some things.  Today I told him I thought my sister was lying about her cancer.  Maybe not totally, but that things don't add up.  I told him that she is seriously mentally ill and that he needs to quit enabling her.  I told him that she lies and manipulates him.  I stopped short of some of the things I think would've really hurt him.  I'm so conflicted.  I feel like she's been abusing him.  But I also think he's a big boy and needs to make his own decisions on things.

And I can't help but think that in the end, my grandmother's in the hospital and it's all about them again.  Even if it's somewhat unintentional, they've greased the wheels so much that it circles back around to them.  I think my sister is going crazy (well is getting crazier).  I think my mother is feeding her crazy side.  I'm very afraid for what's ahead.  Things just don't feel good right now.

NM's Reward for her Long Suffering

Reading through the blogs, so many repressed memories have come back, slamming me in the face.  So many things that I've just set aside and moved past.  Buried way back inside my head and heart.  But a few days ago, I read lifesizevision's post about discovering his mother's affair, and so many things came back to me.

I really hadn't thought about my mother's affair in a long time.  It had been so totally eclipsed by so many other hurts, abuses, and layers of pain, that it had faded into the background.  In reading lifesizevision's post I  was reminded about how much it had hurt me at the time.  How betrayed I felt.  And I struggled with why I had dismissed this offense and now, hardly even thought about it.

Mom and I had gone to pick up my little sister from a school function.  It was dark, the rain poured down, and my sister was expected at any minute.  And mom dropped the bomb shell.  The next day, my dad would be looking for an apartment.  He'd be moving out.  They were divorcing.  She didn't even have the decency to tell me this face to face, in a place I could process it.  She ambushed me, knowing NSis would be arriving shortly.  Knowing that I'd never let on, as I wouldn't want to upset her.  She offered no explanation, no excuses, no reasons.  Offered me no comfort.

I remember being devasted and scared and confused.  I sat in my room for a long time, probably a month.  I took my Dad's old T.V. from his room.  I came out of my room only to shower and eat dinner.  I remember my Dad checking on me once.  I remember, that for the most part, they left me alone.  No one came for me. I remember Dad falling apart.  My stoic, unemotional, detached dad came apart at the seams.  This terrified me.  But where was my mother?  Absent, gone....

I don't remember how I found out about the affair.  I have some vague recollection that it was my father who told me.  It's shocking to me how much I've blocked out.  Like some war veteran who only has flashbacks.   He was a man my mother worked with.  It had been going on a long time.  There were lots of secrets.  My mother wouldn't answer any questions about what had happened.  We were "children" and didn't need to know what went on, too young to be exposed to that.  Ha.  The irony must have been lost on her that we "children" had already been exposed to it and that she had expected us to grow up and deal with it like adults as we took care of ourselves because she was out cavorting around.

My sister read my dad's journal at some point and told me much later that mom had gone back and forth between this new man and my dad.  Played them against each other.  I always wondered what she had told the new man (now EStep-father, ESF).  I believe she lied and told him it was all over.  When his own daughter had an affair, and married the "new man", ESF disliked this new man greatly.  I wondered how he reconciled that with his own behavior, or how much mom had lied to him to convince him he wasn't that man.

It was another surprise attack when mom introduced us to her new man.  She often left us on the weekends to go be with him and his family.  She never took us along, because it was too early.  So she left us, two broken, damaged teenagers to our own devices for the whole weekend.  She never thought about how much this would hurt us.  How abandoned we felt.  How it was clear she was choosing this "new family" over her own.  She was having a grand old time while we drowned in the mess she left.  I played mom to my little sister.  I fed her, watched her, got her out of trouble.  And my sister was a trainwreck at 14.  Drinking, sneaking out of the house, sleeping with boys, throwing parties at my house.  Problems that would be difficult for an adult to deal with.  But they were my problems now.

So, one day mom pranced into the TV room with new man and new man's kids.  They'd had a delightful weekend.  She gave us no warning.  We were laying around when they walked in.  I remember feeling embarrassed that she had introduced us while we were just relaxing.  She acted like a teenage girl with a crush.  All giddy and smiley and happy.  And she expected us to be too.

We had many arguments about new man.  She argued that I was a selfish, horrible brat.  That I had no right to be angry with him or not like him.  That I OWED HER to be nice to him, accept him as my family, be respectful.  I was not allowed to be angry, or hurt, or upset.  I wan't allowed to have any feelings about the situation that weren't positive.  She reasoned that she had put up with years of abuse from my father and that it was her turn to be happy now.  She had found her "soul mate".  She was finally happy and putting herself first.  And how dare I suggest that she didn't deserve this.  How dare I try to deny her this happiness.  She railed against me for my betrayal of her by not being happy about it.  I see the absurdity now.  She had destroyed my family, betrayed me, my father, and my sister, forced a new man into my life, and I was expected to be HAPPY ABOUT THE WHOLE FUCKING THING.  She never once admitted any wrong doing.  She never once apologized.  What did she have to be sorry about, she reasoned?  She'd done nothing wrong except finally put herself first.  She couldn't even separate out that while her commitment to my father and her betrayal of that was enough, that she had also made a commitment to us, as her kids.  That by abandoning us when we needed her most, selling us out for her new found happiness, abandoning all of her responsibilities as a mother was even more of a betrayal.

When she married the new man, we also were expected to smile, be happy, not rain on her parade.  How dare we have any negative emotions.  This is what made her happy.  She even bullied us into singing her and new husband's wedding song.  It made my stomach hurt.  Torture.  Abuse.  Horrific memories.  She and new hubby had a secret number that they used to use to sign all of their cards.  Some secret code number.  I know, even though she refused to tell me what it signified, that this was the hotel number of the room they would meet up in.  For years, they signed all of their cards with that number.  For years, she would get us rooms at this hotel when we stayed in town.  And I remember vividly how prominently it was displayed on her wedding cake.  I remember thinking at the time how stupid she must've thought me to be.  I remember thinking what a HUGE SLAP IN THE FACE it was.  How I choked on that damn cake.  How I wish now that she had choked on that damn cake.   What a horrible wretch of a person.  Who does that to her kids?  Who betrays them and then demands that they be happy about it?  Accuses them of disloyalty and feigns hurt if the kids dare to have some negative emotions about it?  Who places the blame on her kids for not doing everything they can to make her new marriage and family work out?  Who denies their kids any right to their feelings or reactions?  My fucked up mother, that's who.

Years later, as we continued to fight about it all, she would claim she did it all for me.  She would through it in my face that I was just angry about the divorce if I even disagreed with her.  Like it was some flaw on my part.  And yes, I was angry about it all still.  I'd never been allowed to process any of it.  Never been to therapy (mom would never have taken ME to therapy, what was there to need therapy about, this was a GOOD thing).  The fallout from this one event still rained down around me.  I was being forced to go back to the "way things were", not that they were that way to begin with.  She had no idea how badly she had betrayed my trust, destroyed any notions of what I thought our relationship was, destroyed our relationship period.  She just expected me to move on and get on with things.  And so, if I dared get angry with her, I could have no valid reason, other than the divorce, which I actually had no valid reason to be angry about either.  And then, in one fight, she blamed it on me.  My dad was a horrible man, she claimed.  Angry, no job at the time (he'd been laid off and was going back to college, and was working).  She wanted a "better" life for me and my sister.  New hubby would offer security (monetary).  I was in shock to think that she thought she could just trade out one man for a new man as my father like it was a new pair of shoes.  That she thought I could just disconnect and except the substitute and move on.  That, when backed into a corner, she'd somehow placed all the blame on me.

Divorce Part II : How NM blamed it all on me

My mother went on like nothing happened after the divorce.  Blissfully happy in her new family and new life.  I was hurt that she could cast my sister and me aside so easily, but I still loved her so much, wanted to support her, wanted to be a part of her life.  I desperately did all I could to be the good daughter.
When I went away to college, my relationship with my mom (Hilda) changed.  I thought at the time that it was for the better.  She called me all the time.  Not to check on me really.  Oh, she asked about me and "worried" and "stressed" about her poor, silly daughter, so far from home.  So far from her.  (And as a side note, I had somewhat intentionally chosen to go to college as far from her as possible.  My releasing had began even if I didn't fully realize it.)  But she never really seemed to listen or care about the things I was struggling with.  Mainly because it didn't compare to the things she was going through with my sister.  Those were REAL problems.  This would be, and still is a theme, in my relationship with my sister and mom.  Their self-induced drama and problems and chaos were always so much more important than what was going on in my life.  How can you complain, Jessie?  What do you have to be sad about, Jessie?  If you want to know about a real problem, Jessie let me tell you about....  And, yes, the things going on with my sister were bad.  She had always been a "spirited" child.  But after the divorce, she went crazy.  Drugs, running away, rapes, sex with boys, not coming home.  On and on.  And my mother would call, detailing every bit.  She would complain to me and cry.  I felt horrible.  I felt helpless.  There was nothing I could do, especially 400 miles away.  My sister and I didn't even talk at this time.  We would be estranged and loathe each other for a long time (mainly created by my mother, but that is another post).  Hilda would tell me I was like "her personal psychologist".  This made me feel important at the time.  My mother needed me!  After years of ignoring me, she needed me.  I can see now, that it was killing me.  I was so helpless and these problems were beyond my ability to fix.  Not that my mother did anything either to help.  She just enabled and enabled.  Lamented about why she was so unfortunate to have a daughter like my sister.  Years later I would suggest that maybe the divorce or her behavior had something to do with it.  My mother cried and became upset, yelled that she was a horrible mother.  But what did I want her to do about it.  "I can't take back the past!  I had to do what was best for me!"  She said she was sorry, but I never believed her.  I lived with knots in my stomach for years.  What should've been a wonderful period of growth and discovery for me, became about her and her problems and her stress.  Trips home were awful.  And on occasion, she would drop my sister off with me.  So she could get away and relax.  These occasions terrified me.  To be responsible for someone so out of control.  To have someone around me who was so volatile and could wreck havoc in the little support system I had created at school.  I was terrified my sister would reveal the craziness that was home to my friends.
I met my husband around my junior year.  The relationship with my mom started to dissolve. When I wasn't there for her solely, she became upset.  We became combative.  As I found myself, and with support from my husband (then boyfriend) I began to move out of her control.  I  was not at her beck and call.  I tried to create my own life.  She became desperate.  She would call and cry and overwhelm me with  her constant need for attention.  And when she would visit, things would get bad.  They always ended in arguments.  The fights always started with her being condescending, or rude, or putting me or Paul (hubby) down.  She would accuse me of not being there for her in her problems with  Erica.  I would tell her that it was killing me and she needed to learn on her husband or call my father.  My father sent her into rages because she no longer controlled him.  She wanted him to parent as she was parenting.  To obsess and enable my sister.  And then when he didn't, her anger turned to me and she would say "It's not fair that I'm the only one dealing with Erica.  I shouldn't have to do this alone.  If I have to deal with it, you all should deal with it too.  If I have to have this stress in my life, so should you."  Why should I? I wanted to scream.  I didn't create her messes.  I was helpless to fix them.  I had my own life.  She never tried to shelter me, or protect me.  She wanted to drag me down into her hole.  Anyway, these arguments would happen and when I would confront her, she would play her trump card.  "You're not over the divorce" she would smirk.  As if this was my fatal flaw.  And I never knew how to respond.  Because, yeah, I really wasn't over it.  I had never grieved, never mourned, never had any moment to express MY feelings.  I was always so busy taking care of everyone else.  But that was beside the point.  This wasn't about that anger.  This was about her being rude and spiteful and selfish.  She would spit "you need therapy".  Again, this was true.  But she acted as if I got "fixed" then all the problems would disappear.  We would no longer have conflict.  She refused to see that she had ownership in anything.  And as these fights layered on each other, my frustration grew.  And she would amp things up with each fight.  And then one time, she told me she had gotten the divorce for Erica and me.  My dad was poor and angry and depressed.  And she felt that Hank would be a better father.  She blamed ME for it all.  I couldn't even fathom how she concluded this.  How she spun things to make herself seem the hero, making the selfless sacrifice for her daughters.  Never mind that my Dad wasn't as horrible as she made out (he was hard and angry but definitely not some loser father) but I never could have "replaced" him.  I loved my Dad.  Never mind that SHE benefited the most from this event. Never mind that she repeatedly told me she had done this for her "freedom".  When cornered, she turned around and blamed me.  I began to harden towards her.  And finally, after one argument, where she berated me that I needed to get over things, I needed to let go,  I needed to fix myself, I lost it.  Hell yeah, I was angry.  Hell yeah, I was hurt.  "You abandoned me and Erica when we needed you so that you could go and  fuck Hank."  Silence.  I was small and sad and tired in the back of the car. I'd felt like a beaten, caged animal.  She had pushed me too far.  I instantly felt horrible, guilty.  But I also felt a little better.  And that made me feel guilty.  She had been pushing me to say this for so long.  I had resisted because I knew she'd only use it against me.  Hold a grudge until the day she died.  But there it was.  She burst into tears.  Demanded Paul take her to her hotel.  Paul suggested we go sit down, talk this out.  No, she screamed.  We took her to her hotel.    The next day she showed up at my door to drop off my blow dryer she had borrowed.  She stood expectantly on my doorstep, waiting for an apology.  I gave her none.  And she gave me none.  Just gave me a hug, stated that she loved me, and moved on.  And we've never talked about the divorce since.

My Parents Divorce: Narcissism rears it's ugly head

My parents never had a very lovey, romantic marriage.  They never seemed to be "that couple".  I can remember thinking when I entered my teen years, however, that I had escaped divorce.  Whew, I thought, parents don't get divorced when you are a teenager, so we've escaped that.  What a weird thought, I think now.  On some level, I must've known that things were not good.

Things had been hard for my parents for several years.  Job layoffs.  Death in the family.  But I had not expected they would divorce.  My mother and I had gone to pick up my sister from a school event.  It was a dark and very rainy night.  And she just stated it matter-of-fact.  There was no family meeting.  No time to discuss it.  No time to even process it as my little sister jumped into the car.  I was in shock, to say the least.  And then we went home, and that was that.  Parts of my life at this time are blurry.  I do not remember how she told my sister.  I vaguely remember talking to my dad about it.  I remember spending an entire month in my bedroom.  I came out only to shower and eat.  My dad checked on me once.  My mother never popped in to see how I was doing.  They were both so wrapped into themselves that I was an after thought.  Details emerged.  My mom had disliked my dad for a long time.  Felt controlled.  And now that he wasn't contributing as much financially, the straw had finally broke the camels back.  Money and security were of utmost importance to her.  And Dad couldn't provide that (well, at least not in the way she wanted).  But Hank did.  Hank was a man my mother worked with.  Somewhere, along the line she had started an affair.  And now she was kicking my dad out.  That was that.  My Dad moved out.  It was chaotic and stressful at our house.  My mother acted like everything was normal.  She was actually happy.  She felt that she had done the best thing ever.  She told me repeatedly that she needed to be happy.  She deserved to be happy.  She was sorry it effected me, but it was her turn to be happy.  I needed to be happy for her. I need to realize that this is what she needed, and I'd move on.  It wasn't that big of a deal...to her.  As I stated, things were blurry, but here are some of the highlights of this time (my high school years) that I do remember:

*My father tried to commit suicide one night.  I was in bed trying to sleep and I could hear the arguing in my parent's room below mine.  I was terrified.  I stayed tucked under the covers in my bed.  Too paralized to move.  The next thing I remember is the police officer.  He came into my room after a quick knock.  He told me he was searching for my father.  Did I know where he was?  No, I shook my head.  I was so confused.  And terrified. I had no idea what was going on.  My mother never came into my room.  Never checked on me that night.  The next day she informed me that Dad had tried to shoot himself.  My sister had come down to check and my mom made her call 911.  Dad left.  The cops came and searched for him.  She didn't know what had happened to him.  And that was that.  She made a big production of my sister.  Worried over her, got her counseling (rightly so), but did nothing for me.  Never talked about it again.

*The first time I met Hank, my mom paraded him into the house without warning.  She was giddy, almost teenager like.  She was very concerned that he meet her daughters.  She had been out with him and his children.  We had been left at home.  She never once thought about how we would feel about this meeting.  She wanted it to go well to make an impression on him.  She actually became angry with my sister and I for not being more welcoming (we were shocked).  She impressed upon us that it was important we assimilate into this new family.  She spent most of her time with them.  She often left us alone.  For entire weekends I would be in charge of my sister.  On holidays, she would drag us down and demand that we be happy.  Demand that we get along.  She never thought that she had destroyed everything we had.  She expected us to let loose of all of our holiday traditions and just follow along with the new family.  She called me selfish and a brat when I tried to preserve some things for my sister.  When I asked to not open gifts until Christmas morning, although we would happily watch everyone else open gifts the night before, she became infuriated.  I just wanted to have something left for Christmas.  Something for my sister and me.  Hank's family would be spending Christmas Day with their mother.  We would be lonely and doing nothing.  I was just trying to keep something. And never mind that this new family wanted little to do with us.   She was so happy and excited by this new life.  And we were an afterthought.

*I became very depressed.  My mother moved us away from our home, an hour away.  Stripping me of everything I knew before.  And she wanted me to be happy about it.  Happy for her that she had finally found her "soul mate".  I went to school every day in sweats and a pony tail.  I never dressed nicely.  The signs were all there.  But she never asked me about them.  Never offered counseling.  Never asked if I was OK.  I felt abandoned and alone.  And overwhelmed.  My sister leaned on me completely.  And if I went and did any normal teenage stuff (hang out with friends) I felt I abandoned her.  I could hardly handle my own emotions, but felt I was responsible for her too.  My sister would later say that, during this time, I was her mother.

*I got a job.  I stayed over often at my boyfriend's house so I could work.  I rarely went home.  I lived out of my car and a duffle bag.  I drove an hour to my high school when I did go home, as my education was so important to me and I knew I would never get the same opportunites in my mother's new small town.  My mother thought I was being a snob, but let it go.  I imagine it was easier to not deal with me.  She checked on me by phone.  In fact, would get angry when I didn't respond right away.  But in reality, she knew nothing of what I did most days.  I was 17 years old.  I fed myself.  I got myself to school. I participated in after school activities.  But she felt that SHE was doing everything for me.  She felt I owed her things.  That I should think she was the best mother ever.

*My sister was out of control.  She was drinking and sexually active and 14.  And my mom left me in charge of her.  One night she was raped.  Because I had left her alone to go out with friends.  Another friend had come over and taken advantage of her.  I never forgave myself.  I know now, that it wasn't my job to look after her.  That it was OK for me to go do something for myself.  But I felt sickened.  I didn't know what to do.  When she told me when I got home, I had no idea what to do.  But we didn't tell my mom.  We just moved on.  It's all so sad, and sick, and devastating to me now.
I was often left in charge of my sister.  One night she had a party with friends at our house.  There was nothing I could do about it.  If I called my mother, she would've been angry at me.  She would've been mad that she had to drive home from her boyfriend's house.  So, I just tried to contain the party.  Eventually, the cops came.  It was the same cop who had been in our house when Dad tried to shoot himself.  He remembered us, he said.  I lied and told him nothing was going on (everyone had left by this point.  He'd been tipped off by a girl who was gone).  He let us go.  But I know he didn't believe me.  He felt so sorry for us.  I could see it in his face.  That look awakened me to the fact that all of this was not alright.  One night my sister took off with friends.  I spent the entire night looking for her, literally looking all over the city for her.  I knew that I dared not come home without her.  When we got home, my mom was there.  We had missed our check-in phone call.  She was furious.  She grounded ME for being out late.  Despite the fact that I told her I was hunting down Erica.  She refused to listen to me.  So angry that I had ruined her weekend and made her worry.  I moved out to my dad's the next day.  As punishment, she sold our family home that following week.  There was no going back.  I eventually had to move back in with her when my Dad moved.  But I never really lived there.  I never had a home again.

*She married Hank, very shortly after words.  It seemed like a whirlwind.  At the ceremony, she was ecstatic.  She wanted my sister and I to sing her and Hank's song.  It never occurred to her this was a slap in the face to us.  That this man, who she left my father for, that this marriage, might hurt us.  Might be hard for us.  Might crush any ideas that she and my father would get back together.  It was all about her.   On the cake and in cards there was a number.  I knew this was the hotel room number they used to meet up at when she was still married to my dad.  She never told us that, but she loved that number and it was important to her.  It made me sick.  It felt so...disrespectful.  That number had been the reason for the death of my family.  And she loved it, idealized it.  She never thought about Erica and me.  How we felt.  Be happy for me Jessie.  I found my soul mate Jessie.  I'm finally happy and this is all I've ever wanted Jessie. Put a smile on your face.  Celebrate me and my adultery.  Celebrate the event that caused so much pain, and heartache, and hurt.  Celebrate the destruction of all you knew, of your innocence, of your childhood, of your abandonment.  She told me around this time that it is in the Bible that you should put your husband above your children.  And this is what she intended to do.  Hank would be first in her life.  No matter that she had made a commitment to her children first.  That this man was a relative stranger to our lives.  No matter what her children felt.  Her husband, her new life, her feelings came first.  It was HER turn she said.  When was it ever my turn, I wondered.