Breaking Codependency and To Hell With The Consequences

I'm not feeling so well today, but I went to the therapist solo today and she encouraged me to pick up writing again.  I might do a lot of that on paper as I'm not sure that anyone would read my drama nor that its interesting, but for today, I'm writing it here.

Jake missed out on counseling because he was very sick last night and could barely sit up straight, but it really was a good thing for me.  It gave me an opportunity to talk to her about the things that were bothering me and me alone, primarily about Minnie.  She says I'm doing the right thing by not humoring her attention-seeking attempts-instead I've been working on shutting them down.  She asked me if I had any options, but I could think of none.  I stand by what I said last night-I have finally given up on her.  She's been such a negative but necessary influence my entire life, and I've spent 25 years trying to learn how to make her happy or please her.  Did someone say codependent?  I've passed through these years feeling as if I was nothing but a worm (she told me I let myself go when I was pregnant, insisted my acne problem is because I didn't wash my face properly, points out that I weigh 10 lbs more than she does-though I'm a foot taller).  I wanted to believe she had good intentions, that it wasn't about money or being vindictive or having some control over her kids' lives, but I have finally admitted that unfortunately that just isn't the case.  Even now, she'll request the proverbial jump and I ask how high.  I take her everywhere she needs to go unless I'm at work-then it's Jake or my brother taking her.  Every Saturday I give up half of my day off to take her to get her hair fixed.  Considering that I work about 50 hours a week and don't get to seem my children as much as I'd like or have appointments or time for myself, giving up about 4 hours for her is a sacrifice that means a great deal to me....and is insignificant to her.  It's an expectation and there is no gratitude.  I should know by now that I should lower my own expectations of her but I just never wanted to admit it...I was pretty deep in denial.  This woman removed me from an awful situation, and I'll be forever grateful and indebted to her for that, but I simply cannot allow her to control me anymore.

I think I discussed the time I lived in Arizona on here before.  As a note, I would like to beg your forgiveness if I accidentally repeat myself-I truly have a terrible memory.  Anyway, to Arizona.  I was 17 and tasting my first and last bit of freedom.  I could go where I wanted when I wanted, stay up as late as I wanted or crash at 5pm, exercise for hours on end, party like there was no tomorrow, be around people that I loved and loved m in return.  My family was not there; it was just me, my roommate, and Jake, doing whatever we wanted.  I don't have that now.  There are parts that I don't mind giving up.  In being a mother, I'm fine with devoting my time to my children and not partying or staying out all hours of the night-although I'll do it on occasion for a family event or when Delaney comes to visit (we go get wasted and belt out karaoke, rehashing our dreams of becoming singing superstars-and for the record, she has the chops for it).  I'm okay with coming straight home, cleaning, and getting my kids bathed and in bed.  That's not the issue.

The issue is the constant presence of Minnie.  "I need you to hang this shower curtain for me."  "I'm so tired of  cleaning this house and it just getting messed up again."  "Will you take me to Walmart first thing Sunday morning?" (Which is ALWAYS at least a 2.5 hour adventure).  "I need you to take these bills to the post office." (Our own mailbox is just too risky).  "Here's my shopping list-get this list at Food City, this list at Walmart, see if you can find this at Target.'  "Will you get my medicine on your way home?" (At least once a week, if not more often, and no longer at the same pharmacy that I use).  It's a never-ending barrage.  I tell her not to touch my laundry, she goes in my room and gets it.  I tell her not to feed my 3-year-old as he is perfectly capable of feeding himself, she does it anyway.  She tries to divide Jake and I by talking smack about the one that isn't present at that moment.

At the end of the day, I have to learn to let her go.  I cannot continue trying to make her happy and caring so deeply about what she thinks/wants/feels, when she clearly doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone that isn't her. the question is how do I let that go?  I've got to figure out a way.  I don't have a clue right now.  It's sad; I'm going to Tucson for a week in March for work reasons and even though I'll miss my little family I'm ECSTATIC to get away from Minnie for a week.  It's like having a parent eternally checking on every little thing you do and judging every move you make. I'm suffocating.  And there's not a damn thing I can figure out to do about it.  If anyone has any suggestions they're welcome.

There are so many other topics I could write about right now...I've been reading up on Recy Taylor's heartbreaking story and have so many thoughts and emotions surfacing over that.  I'm 50 pounds down on my weight loss journey and I've hit a plateau that I can't seem to break-with 50 pound left to lose.  I find myself discouraged by that quite often.  My sister and I have barely spoken in the last while, which has been rather difficult for me.  I feel like there's some kind of connection that was lost between us after she came back from Afghanistan (she's in the Navy) and I don't know how to fix it.  There's my mom, who is still trying to fix our relationship-at least my therapist said the way we're trying to do that is healthy.

My biggest piece of encouragement today came from the therapist herself.  She said she's been doing this for a long time and has seen a lot of terrible things, but the amount of dysfunction in my family is one of the most extreme cases she's seen.  She often asks me how I'm sane and is impressed by my emotional stability (she thinks I'm emotionally healthy, which is a huge improvement over where I've come from!).  It's reassuring to know that I'm not crazy for being unhappy with the lot I was dealt and trying to do something about it.

There's just too much swirling in my brain at the moment.  I'll write more soon.

XOXO

How Do You Change Crazy?

Happy February, waaahoo.  I'm feeling rather ill at the moment, but I haven't written in a while and I really want to.  The process of healing my little family has been pretty slow and deliberate, but I think we'll get there.  Our biggest challenge at the moment is Minnie.


Before I talk about her, let me just say that Jake FINALLY bought me a nice engagement ring, 7 years into this mess.  It's a pretty little 1/4 carat number.  A hand model I shall never be, but here's the little beaut:

Anywho, to Minnie.  Apparently Jake severely pissed her off lately and she has been making life hell ever since.  She fell a little while ago, and that (as well as her eternal passive aggressive behavior and general attitude on life) has really made us question allowing her to continue babysitting our children.  We had discussed how to best go about changing that with the therapist, and I thought we had a plan in mind, but he just went ahead and took the kids to his mom's one day without really talking to Minnie.  Next thing I know she's calling me in her room to talk (ME-not the offender, she didn't say a single word to Jake) and asked, "What have I done?"  Then she started with the crying and the pity trip.  I just walked out of the room-I didn't give her the ego stroke she was so desperately craving.  I did NOT engage-and I'm proud of myself for that.  I still don't like the way it was handled, but there's no changing that now.  


Ever since, Minnie has been storming around the house and slamming her cane against anything possible.  She constantly mutters under her breath and makes comments about what an asshole Jake is.  Tonight, I got off the phone with her and told her it was because I was calling him, and she got all smart-assed and asked me why and pissed me off.  Right now she's mad at me because my youngest son is in the corner and she's in a hurry to wash dishes so she's mad.  Plus she's mad that I'm trying to discipline my children...she just yells at them all day.


I don't know what to do about her.  I'm going to bring it up tomorrow when Jake and I go to counseling.  I can't handle her.  She's bitter, rude, and downright mean.  I have enough stress at home plus I'm trying to raise a family and then I have to deal with little miss whiny pants.  I just don't have the patience for her anymore.  She's created herself a kind of alternate universe-she tells her version of events (which are NOT in ANY way based in reality) and wholeheartedly BELIEVES them.  She calls people mean, terrible names and talks all kinds of shit about them behind their backs.  She CANNOT and WILL NOT EVER admit any kind of wrongdoing.  If you try to suggest changes-even gently delivered suggestions for the slightest of changes-she throws her damn martyr fits.


In short, she makes me crazy.  She's ruining the attitudes of my children and wrecking my not-marriage.  I don't know how to deal with this anymore.  I'm just...done.  I've recognized that she's a lost cause and I GIVE UP ON HER.  Took me 25 years to say that/come to that conclusion, but there it is.  There's an anger inside of me that just seems to keep growing, and I find that I'm unable to take it out on her, to unleash the fury at its much-deserved target. Instead, it stays inside me, boiling and steaming up the place.  It overruns sometimes and attacks innocent bystanders, and I have to stop it before it explodes and takes me down with it.


I'm anxious to speak with the therapist tomorrow.  I've kept a journal since 3rd grade and only stopped writing in recent years, when I didn't even want to admit my feelings on paper.  I have to get back to this, to get my feelings out there, even if it is on the internet.