Craziness
JFC, you guys, my family is crazy. My mother's family, specifically. My grandmother, even more specifically.
This requires a little background. It is very long and personal, so if you don't care, just ignore this.
They are all crazy. What little crazy I have, the bi-polar that I inherited from my mother (who was type I, and could be totally absent, really awesome, and really fucking scary in turns) and the lingering trauma (no, seriously, there were traumatic events), I got from them. I would be vastly more crazy now if it wasn't for my father. He got me out. When I was nine or ten, he got custody of me. What little I remember and was exposed to of the custody battle, it was really ugly, mostly because my mother's family is one of those sick inclusive families you read about, who sink their claws into you and never let go. And they really really did not want to let me go.
But my dad did it, and he got me out. My cousin was not so fortunate. Her mother was diagnosed as schizophrenic when she was young (after her parents broke up) and so was basically incapable of helping her. Her father is my mother's younger brother. He's a bag of crazy. I'm as sure as I can be that he's a narcisist, the real and scary kind, without a degree in psychiatry.
My Cousin and I grew up like sisters, so I've always wanted to help her. But there wasn't a lot I could do. In high school, unsuprisingly, she fell into a downward spiral of drugs (weed and prescription meds) and alcohol and parties. She dropped out. This was two years ago.
So finally, after a series of events that you don't need me to detail, she came to live with me a couple of months ago. I was trying to give her a safe and sane environment in which to sort herself out, an environment she wasn't getting with our family. I set ground rules, like no drinking or smoking or drugs in the house. I told her we could talk about her having a couple of friends over at some point. I don't really like people in my space in general, and being around people is hard for me, so this was an important point. Besides which, I knew the kind of people she hung out with. I told her that, as much as I wanted her to stay, that she would have to leave if she couldn't pay me rent, because I can't afford to support two people. She agreed to all of these.
I quit my job at the gas station (which is a whole other emotional story I really don't want to get into) and my dad was going to visit his sister out of state and invited me to go, in order to take a break and recharge. At this point, it was two weeks into the new month and Cousin owed me rent. I told her she could stay through the weekend if she watched my kitties, and went.
Day One of out of state, Cousin called me and told me she was cleaning my appartment for me. With my on and off depression, I'm really terrible at keeping up my living space. So, considering I was letting her stay rent free at this point, and I'd bought her food over the course of the last two weeks because she was blowing it all on alcohol, I thought she pretty much owed me that.
I live in a duplex. I'm very good friends with the couple who live on the other side. Late afternoon of Day Three out of state, Neighbor Husband calls me to apologize for kicking Cousin's friends out the night before, but the party was way too loud and Neighbor Wife couldn't get to sleep. She'd told them I gave her permission, so he was apologizing.
Neighbor Wife had recently been in the hospital for a whole week, recovering from an emergency surgery she had. Cousin knew this. She'd visited and stayed with Wife just as much as I did. And earlier that day, Wife had to go back into the hospital because her potassium levels were dangerously low. Cousin was aware of this too, as she was the one who texted me to tell me so. The doctors told her she really needed to get some rest. Cousin and her party kept her up until three in the morning.
This, in combination with the fact that she threw a party in my house when she knew how I felt about that, with underage drinkers who were apparently all guys. Wife has to sleep in the room with the door that connects the two appartments, in a hospital bed, because she couldn't do the stairs needed to get to the bedroom. She'd felt very unsafe.
I blew my top. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life. And then the next morning she apparently took off. Leaving my kitties all alone. Wife, bless her, took care of them for me.
I was all resolved to kick her out when I got home. And then I saw my place. Oh, don't get me wrong, she'd picked up after the party. But the so-called cleaning she'd claimed she'd done was more of a 'let's make the place look nice because I'm having guys over'. She'd moved all my stuff, throwing most of it on the floor of my bedroom. She'd destroyed my space. And, okay, I'm a slob, but that was the last straw. This whole thing was such a violation, I don't know how to describe it. Boyfriend came over for the emotional support, and I gathered all her stuff together and stacked it outside my door. Then I texted her, and told her that she should come get it before someone stole it.
She must have called our grandmother. Which is where this whole thing got worse.
Grandma called me. The woman is manipulative, and thinks she knows more than everyone else, and it's her responsibility to educate me on what she knows. She proceeded to tell me it was against the law to just throw Cousin's stuff out, and went a little hysterical when I told her Cousin's laptop and guitar were both outside too. I literally could not handle having her stuff in my space any more. I refused to bring it back in. Eventually, I conceeded to asking Neighbors if I could put her stuff in the garage, though this didn't seem to make Grandma happy at all. She started going on about humidity being bad for instuments which, okay, I'll take, but what, does she think my apartment is tempature controlled? It's a crappy little one bedroom apartment add-on to what used to be a whole house. I don't even have my own heat control. So I continued to tell her no.
Grandma moved on, realizing I wasn't going to budge. She then spent the next hour trying to convince me that I was overreacting and that I should forgive Cousin right then and there. This included such memorable things as "when someone slaps you in the face, you don't stab them in the chest".
Really, WTF? Am I the only one who thinks this is an unneccesarily extreme metaphor? I told her so. She moved on. I've blanked out most of the converation for my own peace of mind, but she used four different 'tracks' of supposed reasoning to try to invalidate my emotional response to the situation. I didn't let her. It's one of the few times I've come out of a converstion with her feeling like she hasn't gotten to me.
This was two months ago or so. The whole point of bringing this all up again is that Grandma called me again last night. Cousin had, two weeks after the fact, come by to visit Neighbors to, I assume, apologize for what she did to Wife. Paternal Grandpa's 75th birthday was that day, so Boyfriend and I were gone most of it. She was still there when we got back, around nine. She was out Neighbor's door like a shot, and I can't help thinking the whole thing was a ruse to see me.
Anyway, she apologized again. She had before, when she picked her stuff up. That was another interesting scene. She'd been planning to just take everything and leave, but thought I'd forgotten her jewelry box (I hadn't) and so knocked on my door. Grandma was driving her, and Cousin was about to leave when I asked if she was even going to apologize. Grandma piped up and said, of all things, "she has her pride". Seriously, pride? That's what she went with? Anyway. I didn't believe she was really sorry then, and I didn't believe she was sorry the second time either, because I don't think she really understood that what she did was wrong, or at least the madnitude of it. She told me she missed me and wanted to see me again, hang out. I couldn't believe it. I told her I wasn't really angry anymore, just really hurt and betrayed, and would need more time, like a couple of months, but she could call me if she wanted. I didn't really want her to call me. I didn't want to talk to her at all, but I made the concession. When I told her I wasn't still mad, she stuck her bottom lip out and said, "you just love me less, right?"
Christ, how did I miss her indoctrination into the family business?
Cousin didn't call, thankfully. Grandma called last night to tell me kinda-Great Uncle's wife died. (He's the father of a very good family friend who I grew up calling 'Aunt', so.) Then of course, she used the opportunity to address this whole issue again. You know what she said?
"I can't believe this situation between you and [Cousin]."
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"It's like she murdered somebody, the way you're acting."
"What?" I asked in disbelief.
"This not talking for two months thing," she said.
"I told her she could call me!"
"She didn't feel like she was really welcome to." Which, yes, that was an accurate read on the situation, but none of this should be my fault, the way she was making it out to be. "You should call her."
Needless to say, I got into it with her. Stupid me, I tried explaining that I don't even call my friends. It's hard for me. I takes up what little emotional energy I have on a day to day basis. Energy I have to use to get up and go to work and shower and eat food. The friends I have left know that they have to call me. I go months without talking to them. I do this with my family too. They know this.
"Why the sudden push for me to spend time with her?" I asked. "I've gone six months at a time without speaking to you guys, let alone seeing [Cousin] who's usually living in [City that's an hour away]."
"You've never left it like this before, after a fight. You don't want it to fester. You should forgive her." Which is somehow more absurd to me than the 'murdered somebody' statement. I need time to fix this all in my head, and more importantly to devise a plan of attack in regards to changing my relationship with Cousin. I need to distance myself. She's the only one who can help her at this point. I can't get sucked into her stuff like that again. But in general, I feel like it's normal to need time after a violation like this before one can forgive. Except Grandma doesn't see it as a violation. Of course not. That's why my reaction is out of proportion.
"You need her around for support," Grandma continued, which is her response to me confiding in her about my issues. Right. Like Cousin is a bastion of support. I explained to her that I have already talked to Cousin about this issue, and that she didn't understand (which is an understatement) just exactly the way Grandma doesn't understand, if she thinks that's any kind of solution.
I came away from the conversation drained and depressed. There went laundry night. Grandma the manipulator wins again.
I didn't end up showering this morning either. I'm on medication, you guys, why is this shit still an issue for me? Have to talk to RN next Appt about adding anti-depressants to my mood stabilizer cocktail. Having converstaions like this with my family definately isn't helping either. I feel like I should just stop talking to them altogether.
Anyway, that's the angst of my life. I guess I just needed to get that off of my chest. If you read the whole thing, thank you. If not, no prob. I don't blame you.
This requires a little background. It is very long and personal, so if you don't care, just ignore this.
They are all crazy. What little crazy I have, the bi-polar that I inherited from my mother (who was type I, and could be totally absent, really awesome, and really fucking scary in turns) and the lingering trauma (no, seriously, there were traumatic events), I got from them. I would be vastly more crazy now if it wasn't for my father. He got me out. When I was nine or ten, he got custody of me. What little I remember and was exposed to of the custody battle, it was really ugly, mostly because my mother's family is one of those sick inclusive families you read about, who sink their claws into you and never let go. And they really really did not want to let me go.
But my dad did it, and he got me out. My cousin was not so fortunate. Her mother was diagnosed as schizophrenic when she was young (after her parents broke up) and so was basically incapable of helping her. Her father is my mother's younger brother. He's a bag of crazy. I'm as sure as I can be that he's a narcisist, the real and scary kind, without a degree in psychiatry.
My Cousin and I grew up like sisters, so I've always wanted to help her. But there wasn't a lot I could do. In high school, unsuprisingly, she fell into a downward spiral of drugs (weed and prescription meds) and alcohol and parties. She dropped out. This was two years ago.
So finally, after a series of events that you don't need me to detail, she came to live with me a couple of months ago. I was trying to give her a safe and sane environment in which to sort herself out, an environment she wasn't getting with our family. I set ground rules, like no drinking or smoking or drugs in the house. I told her we could talk about her having a couple of friends over at some point. I don't really like people in my space in general, and being around people is hard for me, so this was an important point. Besides which, I knew the kind of people she hung out with. I told her that, as much as I wanted her to stay, that she would have to leave if she couldn't pay me rent, because I can't afford to support two people. She agreed to all of these.
I quit my job at the gas station (which is a whole other emotional story I really don't want to get into) and my dad was going to visit his sister out of state and invited me to go, in order to take a break and recharge. At this point, it was two weeks into the new month and Cousin owed me rent. I told her she could stay through the weekend if she watched my kitties, and went.
Day One of out of state, Cousin called me and told me she was cleaning my appartment for me. With my on and off depression, I'm really terrible at keeping up my living space. So, considering I was letting her stay rent free at this point, and I'd bought her food over the course of the last two weeks because she was blowing it all on alcohol, I thought she pretty much owed me that.
I live in a duplex. I'm very good friends with the couple who live on the other side. Late afternoon of Day Three out of state, Neighbor Husband calls me to apologize for kicking Cousin's friends out the night before, but the party was way too loud and Neighbor Wife couldn't get to sleep. She'd told them I gave her permission, so he was apologizing.
Neighbor Wife had recently been in the hospital for a whole week, recovering from an emergency surgery she had. Cousin knew this. She'd visited and stayed with Wife just as much as I did. And earlier that day, Wife had to go back into the hospital because her potassium levels were dangerously low. Cousin was aware of this too, as she was the one who texted me to tell me so. The doctors told her she really needed to get some rest. Cousin and her party kept her up until three in the morning.
This, in combination with the fact that she threw a party in my house when she knew how I felt about that, with underage drinkers who were apparently all guys. Wife has to sleep in the room with the door that connects the two appartments, in a hospital bed, because she couldn't do the stairs needed to get to the bedroom. She'd felt very unsafe.
I blew my top. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life. And then the next morning she apparently took off. Leaving my kitties all alone. Wife, bless her, took care of them for me.
I was all resolved to kick her out when I got home. And then I saw my place. Oh, don't get me wrong, she'd picked up after the party. But the so-called cleaning she'd claimed she'd done was more of a 'let's make the place look nice because I'm having guys over'. She'd moved all my stuff, throwing most of it on the floor of my bedroom. She'd destroyed my space. And, okay, I'm a slob, but that was the last straw. This whole thing was such a violation, I don't know how to describe it. Boyfriend came over for the emotional support, and I gathered all her stuff together and stacked it outside my door. Then I texted her, and told her that she should come get it before someone stole it.
She must have called our grandmother. Which is where this whole thing got worse.
Grandma called me. The woman is manipulative, and thinks she knows more than everyone else, and it's her responsibility to educate me on what she knows. She proceeded to tell me it was against the law to just throw Cousin's stuff out, and went a little hysterical when I told her Cousin's laptop and guitar were both outside too. I literally could not handle having her stuff in my space any more. I refused to bring it back in. Eventually, I conceeded to asking Neighbors if I could put her stuff in the garage, though this didn't seem to make Grandma happy at all. She started going on about humidity being bad for instuments which, okay, I'll take, but what, does she think my apartment is tempature controlled? It's a crappy little one bedroom apartment add-on to what used to be a whole house. I don't even have my own heat control. So I continued to tell her no.
Grandma moved on, realizing I wasn't going to budge. She then spent the next hour trying to convince me that I was overreacting and that I should forgive Cousin right then and there. This included such memorable things as "when someone slaps you in the face, you don't stab them in the chest".
Really, WTF? Am I the only one who thinks this is an unneccesarily extreme metaphor? I told her so. She moved on. I've blanked out most of the converation for my own peace of mind, but she used four different 'tracks' of supposed reasoning to try to invalidate my emotional response to the situation. I didn't let her. It's one of the few times I've come out of a converstion with her feeling like she hasn't gotten to me.
This was two months ago or so. The whole point of bringing this all up again is that Grandma called me again last night. Cousin had, two weeks after the fact, come by to visit Neighbors to, I assume, apologize for what she did to Wife. Paternal Grandpa's 75th birthday was that day, so Boyfriend and I were gone most of it. She was still there when we got back, around nine. She was out Neighbor's door like a shot, and I can't help thinking the whole thing was a ruse to see me.
Anyway, she apologized again. She had before, when she picked her stuff up. That was another interesting scene. She'd been planning to just take everything and leave, but thought I'd forgotten her jewelry box (I hadn't) and so knocked on my door. Grandma was driving her, and Cousin was about to leave when I asked if she was even going to apologize. Grandma piped up and said, of all things, "she has her pride". Seriously, pride? That's what she went with? Anyway. I didn't believe she was really sorry then, and I didn't believe she was sorry the second time either, because I don't think she really understood that what she did was wrong, or at least the madnitude of it. She told me she missed me and wanted to see me again, hang out. I couldn't believe it. I told her I wasn't really angry anymore, just really hurt and betrayed, and would need more time, like a couple of months, but she could call me if she wanted. I didn't really want her to call me. I didn't want to talk to her at all, but I made the concession. When I told her I wasn't still mad, she stuck her bottom lip out and said, "you just love me less, right?"
Christ, how did I miss her indoctrination into the family business?
Cousin didn't call, thankfully. Grandma called last night to tell me kinda-Great Uncle's wife died. (He's the father of a very good family friend who I grew up calling 'Aunt', so.) Then of course, she used the opportunity to address this whole issue again. You know what she said?
"I can't believe this situation between you and [Cousin]."
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"It's like she murdered somebody, the way you're acting."
"What?" I asked in disbelief.
"This not talking for two months thing," she said.
"I told her she could call me!"
"She didn't feel like she was really welcome to." Which, yes, that was an accurate read on the situation, but none of this should be my fault, the way she was making it out to be. "You should call her."
Needless to say, I got into it with her. Stupid me, I tried explaining that I don't even call my friends. It's hard for me. I takes up what little emotional energy I have on a day to day basis. Energy I have to use to get up and go to work and shower and eat food. The friends I have left know that they have to call me. I go months without talking to them. I do this with my family too. They know this.
"Why the sudden push for me to spend time with her?" I asked. "I've gone six months at a time without speaking to you guys, let alone seeing [Cousin] who's usually living in [City that's an hour away]."
"You've never left it like this before, after a fight. You don't want it to fester. You should forgive her." Which is somehow more absurd to me than the 'murdered somebody' statement. I need time to fix this all in my head, and more importantly to devise a plan of attack in regards to changing my relationship with Cousin. I need to distance myself. She's the only one who can help her at this point. I can't get sucked into her stuff like that again. But in general, I feel like it's normal to need time after a violation like this before one can forgive. Except Grandma doesn't see it as a violation. Of course not. That's why my reaction is out of proportion.
"You need her around for support," Grandma continued, which is her response to me confiding in her about my issues. Right. Like Cousin is a bastion of support. I explained to her that I have already talked to Cousin about this issue, and that she didn't understand (which is an understatement) just exactly the way Grandma doesn't understand, if she thinks that's any kind of solution.
I came away from the conversation drained and depressed. There went laundry night. Grandma the manipulator wins again.
I didn't end up showering this morning either. I'm on medication, you guys, why is this shit still an issue for me? Have to talk to RN next Appt about adding anti-depressants to my mood stabilizer cocktail. Having converstaions like this with my family definately isn't helping either. I feel like I should just stop talking to them altogether.
Anyway, that's the angst of my life. I guess I just needed to get that off of my chest. If you read the whole thing, thank you. If not, no prob. I don't blame you.