Florence

My dad had a stroke last week. It was not "the big one," so to speak, but it has sent my FOO into a tizzy. He will be okay for the time being, and is not experiencing any major physical symptoms. That said, it was scary. My sisters are here in town to see him and help out. Whenever the whole family is together, we fall right into our traditional roles, dysfunctional as they are.

I'm the sister that stayed in town near my folks. It has pros and cons. A frustrating part for me is that when I am here with my parents we are usually great, but when my sisters come to town my mother especially kind of turns on me. She likes to be judgey about me with my sisters (the one below in particular) and looooooves bringing up how difficult I was as a teenager.

I spent some time with my one sister who I always have a touchy relationship with. It was pleasant until it wasn't. We argued because she didn't like the way I said something to my mom. It was a huge blow-out. I've never argued with her like this before.

The disagreement with my Mom was when she told me that she offered to babysit for (ready?) my abusive ex's STBXW. A constant source of conflict for us for the last fifteen years has been her eagerness to offer her help, advice to him and his family behind my back, which complicates my relationship with DS13's dad. i.e. BOUNDARIES, lack thereof. The bigger picture is that she is entirely too involved in my life and I am constantly struggling to keep her at a comfortable distance. My sister came down on me because I expressed frustration when Mom started talking about this and feigned shock when I protested, which hurt Mom's feelings (seriously, all criticism or disagreement hurts Mom's feelings, so I don't bother tip-toeing around it anymore). I figure I can't control her meddling, but I don't have to be silent with when she stomps on my toes, either.

Then my sister started in on how my divorce is so hard on my mom -- another sore spot. I recently told my mom, my divorce is not about you. I'm not going to talk to you about this anymore. Guess she found a new ear!

She says I am crazy and angry, told me I needed therapy, said my other sister and I weren't qualified to visit dad in the hospital like she is (?), and a slew of other hurtful things. The worst part -- and here is where I cringe -- is that she accused me of always playing the victim in the family. This is something I really do resent. I was absolutely victimized as a kid -- I was sexually abused, and my parents had bouts of abuse on me off and on over time, and when they didn't, I was expected to be a piece of furniture. The reason I was difficult as a teenager is primarily that I was dealing with layers of abuse and denial in and out of my FOO on my own. There were social consequences too -- after I was raped I was rejected by my primary friend group, called a ****, and left to fend for myself on the fringes. My coping methods were my own, and maybe they weren't great -- but they were statistically NORMAL and I was a CHILD. My childhood is not a happy, sentimental place. Hell, my young adulthood was not a happy place. My sister's experience with mom and dad, I guess, was completely different. She kept saying that because she had such a happy childhood she couldn't identify with me. I told her that was a cop-out. I told her that I actually was victimized and that it was most hurtful to me that our entire family acted willfully to deny or ignore that. That *that* was the source of my impatience and frustration. She told me to get over it and move on.

Anyway, I lost it. I just cried and cried. I told her I wasn't looking for an argument, but that I couldn't be quiet about what life was like for me growing up. I had so much more to say, but I just lost it. I could see the disgust and pity in her eyes, and it was one of the worst feelings. Just the worst.

Am I angry? Not really. I'm frustrated, sad, feel abandoned, I wonder what I did wrong, I wonder why my sisters had such a charmed childhood compared to mine despite having the same parents. I feel inadequate with my broken relationships compared to their financial stability and functional marriages. My mother's constant meddling is a finger in these wounds. I have tried to minimize contact with her and keep that contact light and easy and casual. When it is light and easy, it works well enough. I enjoy myself and my parents' company.

But I also accept there are constant digs. I have accepted that to have a relationship with my mom means that I will hear regularly how fat and frumpy and difficult I am (I am none of these things). I will hear that she is afraid I will be forever alone because I'm so used up (ugh). I will her how she and dad chose not to deal with my abuse -- or one another -- because it was easier (ugh again). I will be forgotten and Christmas and ignored on birthdays. Seriously, this is the landscape. But I worry that cutting them off will leave me with a deep well of regret later when they are gone. My dad's stroke brought this home to me. They make me frustrated but I don't want to lose them. They do help me a little financially and occasionally help with the kids. My children love them. I love them, but it's complicated. There doesn't seem to be this disconnect between them and anyone else in the family except me (which for me is part of the personal devastation).

I've worked so hard to get to a place of empowerment and not feel the deep rejection from my parents' and family's constant disapproval. I struggle with feeling the joy of my successes -- and I am deeply bothered by all my failures. She continues to strive for their acceptance, and loves these dramatic situations where she can swoop in and "save" our parents and care for them. I have, basically, done my best to move on. I've been in therapy for years, improved my life with my children, tried to create some boundaries between me and my mom. I'm trying to resolve all these loose ends and get it together. I'm professionally well-regarded and am dipping my toe into community leadership. I think I've done pretty well, actually. But there's that little voice in the back of my mind telling me I'm a fraud and that I'm still and always will be a loser.

It's so complicated and annoying because I know all the methods of "mmm hmmming" and limiting my expectations all around, but this is my weak spot. There's a part of me that is still the kid wanting them to help me, to protect me, to console me. I thought I'd made peace with that not happening in my lifetime. Maybe I'm not there yet.