Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Floodgates
I think I am starting to understand why I have not brought up (in public) the topic of the main problem that has been bothering me. Besides my usual tendency not to dwell on unhappy things I can't do anything about, I mean.
The situation is complex, it's fraught with emotion, and it's hard to boil down to a short explanation. But it seems to be bubbling up and demanding I deal with it. So beware the TMI, and feel free to skip this if you want. For people who are new to this blog, sorry about the drama--it's not usually like this! P.S. Don't worry, the following is NOT about Caro!
***
A long time ago, in a training session for volunteers who would be helping at a domestic violence center, they told us that ANYONE could find themselves in an abusive relationship. You just had to stumble into a situation with the right (or wrong, I guess you could say) elements that would get YOU hooked in.
I was dubious about that. Just didn't think I was the type to even get into such a situation, much less not be able to get out.
It turns out I'm at least partly right. All you have to do to get out of the trap of an abusive relationship is gnaw off your leg.
First, though, you have to go through the part where you wonder if you are to blame. Maybe if you had loved the person more, or been a better person yourself, or not made so many mistakes...maybe none of this would have happened. The "what ifs" will drive you crazy, if you weren't there to start with.
Here's what did happen, short form. Last May, I told my oldest child I was concerned about some of the choices she was making, and also upset about how she was treating me. It was the sort of disagreement we had occasionally had before, which usually resulted in a big fight, then reconciliation and promises to do better...and the cycle would begin again. The pattern actually goes back to when she was a teenager. She has always been a high maintenance drama queen type, but I thought as she matured, she would gain more of a perspective of how others need and deserve to be treated. I can't say I have seen as much growth in that area as I would like.
Anyway, this time she went extra ballistic. I was not to see her or speak to her again, although I could still see the grandchildren. I'm not sure if she expected that this time, like all the dozens of times before, I would be the one to find some way to talk her down or joke her out of being mad. Chances are she did, so maybe me not doing that seems like a betrayal to her, like I changed the rules of the game without telling her I was going to.
But the trouble is, this time the blow-up was not about something she or I did. It was about how I felt about things like being first on the list when she wanted money or something, but last when it came to getting any time, concern or even respect from her. I can't see how it would help, in the long run, to say I didn't mean it when I said her behavior hurt me. It wouldn't be true, and it seems to me it would be a kind of enabling. There are other aspects, naturally, but that's the main issue at the core of them all.
In one exchange during the course of all this, after I sincerely and (I thought) without rancor suggested she seek some therapy, she wrote back to say that if she was such a horrible person, it was all my fault because I raised her to be like she is. It's certainly true that if I could have "do overs", there are plenty of things I would do differently. And yet, I believe that while a person's raising is important to the development of their personality, there does come a time when, if you are planning to be an autonomous adult, you take over and start to raise yourself. I had D up to a few days before she turned 17 (another long story) and she's going to be 34 this October. Doing the math means I shouldn't have to take more than half the blame.
So this is where I am at right now. I can't change the parameters of the problem, and can't fix it as it stands. The choice is hers to make, and after all this time, it looks like she has made it. That means it is time for me to start chewing, I guess. Because I can't go on like this indefinitely.
And that's the story about why I have been dropping off the face of the internet now and then. I get to dwelling on all this, can't shake it, and it makes me too bummed out to find the energy to be cheerful with others. Hopefully things will get better again sooner rather than later.
The situation is complex, it's fraught with emotion, and it's hard to boil down to a short explanation. But it seems to be bubbling up and demanding I deal with it. So beware the TMI, and feel free to skip this if you want. For people who are new to this blog, sorry about the drama--it's not usually like this! P.S. Don't worry, the following is NOT about Caro!
***
A long time ago, in a training session for volunteers who would be helping at a domestic violence center, they told us that ANYONE could find themselves in an abusive relationship. You just had to stumble into a situation with the right (or wrong, I guess you could say) elements that would get YOU hooked in.
I was dubious about that. Just didn't think I was the type to even get into such a situation, much less not be able to get out.
It turns out I'm at least partly right. All you have to do to get out of the trap of an abusive relationship is gnaw off your leg.
First, though, you have to go through the part where you wonder if you are to blame. Maybe if you had loved the person more, or been a better person yourself, or not made so many mistakes...maybe none of this would have happened. The "what ifs" will drive you crazy, if you weren't there to start with.
Here's what did happen, short form. Last May, I told my oldest child I was concerned about some of the choices she was making, and also upset about how she was treating me. It was the sort of disagreement we had occasionally had before, which usually resulted in a big fight, then reconciliation and promises to do better...and the cycle would begin again. The pattern actually goes back to when she was a teenager. She has always been a high maintenance drama queen type, but I thought as she matured, she would gain more of a perspective of how others need and deserve to be treated. I can't say I have seen as much growth in that area as I would like.
Anyway, this time she went extra ballistic. I was not to see her or speak to her again, although I could still see the grandchildren. I'm not sure if she expected that this time, like all the dozens of times before, I would be the one to find some way to talk her down or joke her out of being mad. Chances are she did, so maybe me not doing that seems like a betrayal to her, like I changed the rules of the game without telling her I was going to.
But the trouble is, this time the blow-up was not about something she or I did. It was about how I felt about things like being first on the list when she wanted money or something, but last when it came to getting any time, concern or even respect from her. I can't see how it would help, in the long run, to say I didn't mean it when I said her behavior hurt me. It wouldn't be true, and it seems to me it would be a kind of enabling. There are other aspects, naturally, but that's the main issue at the core of them all.
In one exchange during the course of all this, after I sincerely and (I thought) without rancor suggested she seek some therapy, she wrote back to say that if she was such a horrible person, it was all my fault because I raised her to be like she is. It's certainly true that if I could have "do overs", there are plenty of things I would do differently. And yet, I believe that while a person's raising is important to the development of their personality, there does come a time when, if you are planning to be an autonomous adult, you take over and start to raise yourself. I had D up to a few days before she turned 17 (another long story) and she's going to be 34 this October. Doing the math means I shouldn't have to take more than half the blame.
So this is where I am at right now. I can't change the parameters of the problem, and can't fix it as it stands. The choice is hers to make, and after all this time, it looks like she has made it. That means it is time for me to start chewing, I guess. Because I can't go on like this indefinitely.
And that's the story about why I have been dropping off the face of the internet now and then. I get to dwelling on all this, can't shake it, and it makes me too bummed out to find the energy to be cheerful with others. Hopefully things will get better again sooner rather than later.
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