Mother's Little Helper

I have some random memories floating around lately.  And also, some relationships in my life have come into much clearer focus.  So, I have some random stories to tell.  I'm really not sure what they have to do with anything, except that I want to write them.  I've avoided discussing individuals in my life in too much detail, as some sense of wanting to respect their privacy has held me back.  But now, although I still don't want to reveal to much about any one person, I need to write these stories down.

NM always says I was a good baby and toddler.  Compliant, easy going.  Easy.  I was always "easy" she said.  NSIS was not.  NSIS was demanding and irritable.  More needy. 

And so, from the start, I became mommy's little helper.  I helped coddle NSIS.  I gave in so that NSIS wouldn't cry.  I tried not to make NSIS mad.  I worked hard to keep her happy.  I worked hard to help NM. 

NM always says that I was a pretty good child.  That is putting it mildly.  I rarely got in trouble.  I did all my chores.  I got straight As.  Always.  My teachers loved me. (I was teacher's helper too.  I didn't realize until much later that, although I liked to help, I sometimes resented being too busy "helping" to enjoy things the other kids did at school.   Like goofing off, or having more social time.)  I did lots of chores.  I was in charge every day after school  and all summer long of my sister.  I did chores and was expected to make her do her's.  HA.  NSIS would explode.  She was violent and very physically abusive.  This wasn't a "sibling" fight.  This was every few days, her attacking me, me trying to restrain her (I never wanted to hurt her).  Me living in fear of pissing her off.  But also being "in charge" of forcing this willful child to do things she didn't want to do.  And if she didn't do her chores, I got in trouble. 

I also got in trouble if I called my mom, begging for help.  She saw the bruises and bite marks and claw chunks from my arms.  She new my sister raged.  But we "both" were fighting.  So, I got in trouble for that too. 

But I continued to help.  I often felt sorry for my mom.  I wanted to help.  I always tried to smooth things over.  I always was the good girl.  The less trouble I got in, the less trauma there was around our house.  My dad was depressed and often raged and life at home was tense.  I wanted to help.  I offered to start dinners for my mom.  I never asked for help on homework.  I didn't ask to be involved in activities because I knew it would stress my mom out to get me there. 

When my family exploded with the divorce and we all fell apart, NM disappeared for a few years.  Sure, she was still "there", but she was often busy.  Busy with her new boyfriend and his family.  Traveling to see them.  Enjoying her "new life".  She left me in charge of NSIS a lot more.  Whole weekends.  Over night.  With a child that snuck out and drank constantly. 

But I was still the "good girl".  I quit expressing my feeling about the divorce and how upset I was because NM said I couldn't feel that way because it was her "turn to be happy".  So, I ducked my head and shut up.  I still got on honor roll at school.   I was in school activities.  I held down a job.  I often (like most of the week) would stay at my boyfriend's parents house so I could go to work. 

I tried to be there for NM.  By now, NSIS was in full on crazy mode.  FULL on.  I felt badly again for NM.  The stress showed on her face.  I tried to help her with my sister.  I helped hold her down when she was trying to leave.  I stood by to help NM when NSIS was out of control.  I listened to her.  My first year of college, NM called me constantly with horror story updates of what my sister had been doing (really, truly, the stories were often horrific to me.  Still are.)  I wanted to be there for NM.  NM dropped NSIS off one weekend (a weekend of a friend's wedding that NM forced me to take NSIS to.  Which was just were I wanted my 17 year old, out of control sister was at a wedding of collage aged kids.)  I listened to NM.  I offered advice (that was rarely taken).  I tried to reason with NSIS.  I tried to talk to her.  I really couldn't stand her at the time. 

Slowly, NSIS evened out a little bit (although did not mellow out.  She is still is very crazy but it's not as intense.)  But I continued to be there for NM.  I listened as she complained about her new family (the family she had "dumped" me and my sister for a few years earlier.  I was reminded that I should be "over that" and have "moved on" and how long was I going to talk about the divorce for).  I listened for HOURS every week on the phone.  I drove to see her.  I visited several times a year.  She visited me.  I listened to her talk about NSIS, how hard it was.  How NSIS was still getting into serious situations.  I agonized with her.  I tried to help her with NSIS. 

I had always idolized my mother when little.  I wrote books about her and dedicated to her.  I crafted special gifts.  I saved my money to buy her presents.  I cooked and cleaned and babysat.  And this continued as I got into my late 20s.  I bought special gifts.  I tried to find ways to make her feel special.  I worked hard to develop a relationship with my step father (a man who helped my mom cheat on my father).  I tried to blend into NM's new family (like she wanted me too).  I cooked special meals, took her out to special dinners.  I celebrated her birthdays and most holidays with her.  I bought nice wine when she came.  I tried. And fucking tried. 

I continued to be NM's venting partner when she needed to unload about NSIS.  She unloaded her stress and pain and anxiety onto me.  She wouldn't let me separate from it.  She often said that she "shouldn't be the only one who has to deal with (NSIS)".  That the responsibility of it was shared.  And since my dad refused to do that with her, I became that person. 

I sent Mother's Day Cards, birthday gifts, thoughtfully bought and carefully wrapped.  I tried to find ways to listen to her advice (which I often didn't want, but felt it made her feel "included" in things.)  I continued to listen to HOURS of complaints.  HOURS of negativity.  NSIS did little of this.  NSIS often forgot NM's birthday.  Often didn't send cards (or even call).  Kept NM up stressed at night.  Called NM screaming in the middle of the night (on the phone, often drunk, often in serious trouble).  She was a difficult child.  She was a difficult teenager who was involved in almost everyone of parents' worst nightmares that I can think of.  She often didn't acknowledge or even thank my mother.  She got in trouble and didn't care (and certainly didn't feel remorse).  She caused horrific stress to my step father (and step family).  Again, put them in actual danger. 

And very recently, NM described BOTH me and my sister as ungrateful, neglectful children.  Children who certainly didn't appreciate her, didn't show her respect, didn't love her enough.  Both of us.  All that shit I did, all those years.  I didn't do it to earn her love; I did it because I DID love her.  And it didn't matter to her at all.  To her, I was the same as my selfish, crazy, mean little sister.  Ungrateful little brats, the both of us. 

Sometimes I don't know if it hurts more that she doesn't know how to love me, or that she wouldn't allow me to love her.  God knows I tried.