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More nightmares / depressing dreams

As I have been tweeting on @natdaylog (copy/paste):


  • #wakingup from another nightmare/dream about that age old subject that has DEPRESSING tapes on loop in my head both awake & asleep: Mum.

  • At times like this I despair and am more depressed than ever. She will never like me or be proud of me for who/what I am. Her loss but sad.

  • Totally shattered / sleepy but avoiding sleep for obvious reasons. Distracting myself with #knitting and web reading.

  • I have written mum so many unsent letters in the past but I want to write something and actually mail/email it about why I/we dread visiting

  • Can't find the words, though. Was thinking about it before I went to sleep and that is why the nightmare, I expect.

  • Taking this to natalief.livejournal.com so that I can write at more length. Maybe. Copy/paste these tweets for now.

I have realised that I am trying to use twitter to write a longer post but the words are coming in smaller bursts more suited to Twitter. Maybe because I am so tired. I dread sleep right now as much as I dread seeing or speaking to mum.

I want to write down what happened in the dream but am too tired to find the words. Maybe I will scribble something by hand on paper so that I can write it up later and so that I won't forget it all.

Same for the stuff I want to say/write to mum. I don't want to hurt her but know that anything that is not 100% agreement with her and 100% toeing the line will hurt/upset her. Codependent dysfunctional family for 500 please. Heh.


( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 20th, 2011 04:06 am (UTC)
I can kind of relate to this—lots of things I could say to my parents, too—but the main reason I refrain is that (a) it wouldn’t actually change anything for the better, (b) it would ramp up tensions, and (c) it would endanger the peace—such as it is—that we’ve already established.

For me, it’s been enough to reestablish the relationship on my own terms. I don’t pretend that those terms extend to anything they will say or think, but at least they have learned that they can’t just copy my keys, or condemn my friends, or go through my things anymore. It bothers me that we continue to drift further apart: my father, once relatively thoughtful about things, has now become a Limbaugh-breathing Tea Party fanatic, and my mother still just kind of creeps me out a lot. But they are who they are, and it no longer dictates who I am or how I respond to it.

If I don’t feel like visiting them, I just don’t, and I choose not to feel guilty about it. They’re in their late 70s, now, though, and there is some self-imposed guilt about not having a lot of time left with them. But I’ve long been of the opinion that my parents’ deaths will fill me not with loss, but instead with weirdness, pitting a past that could have been with a past that was, one I could do very little about without sacrificing myself on the altar of their sensibilities. I can accept that I am a profound disappointment to my parents for not having gone into construction or otherwise preparing for The End Times, or being a preacher, or any of another half-dozen things that they would have preferred I’d be. I was written out of their will by the time I was 14, but I’m okay with that. They are who they are. I am who I am. And that’s how it’s gonna stay.

Nevertheless, I understand the impact that they can have. So let me assure you: that your mother doesn’t like you is her problem. I’m telling you that, as misanthropic as I’m becoming, and as picky as I am, that I find you adorable. No, you weren’t fishing for compliments, and that’s not how I’m treating this. I’m just telling you: I genuinely respect and like you, for many, many reasons.

I’m not sure we say this sort of thing often enough in these ridiculously short lives we lead, but I’ve taken my mortality to heart and I blurt out things like this—even to the English. And not just because it’s fun to watch them stutter and squirm and haw in response (though it is), but because it’s the genuine thing to do.

Yes, process your feelings, by all means. But frustrating yourself by telling your mother what you think and having it come to nought or less . . . I’m just saying that from my experience, it’s not really worth it bringing in someone who wouldn’t appreciate you or how you felt. Instead, surround yourself with people that do give a crap (hi there!), and take comfort in our embrace, such as it is.

Love you, Nat.
Oct. 20th, 2011 05:43 pm (UTC)
Re: Bleah.
Aw Ken, thank you! This is such a thoughtful reply. I love you too!

It is just that it is really eating away at me and she has our boxes in her garage and is giving us grief about not coming round to sort them out and my hair needs cutting but we cannot afford salon costs and she has the hair clippers that we bought…


I'd love to be able to state my feelings and boundaries calmly and without getting upset face to face but whenever she starts on one of her rants I just go to pieces. Therefore I think a letter/email might work better but doubt she would really read it or take it to heart. Maybe if I set out a list of points - things that we will not tolerate, for example. I just have nightmares about her sending our (expensive and ideal to ebay when we can get spoons to do so, e.g. M:TG cards and Harrods Bears) to a charity shop as she has threatened…

There I go again!
Oct. 29th, 2011 08:03 pm (UTC)
Re: Bleah.
Yeah, the problem there is that by letting her store stuff that’s valuable to you, you’re giving her a lot of power. It may be time to arrange an alternative place for the boxes, go and get them, get your hair clippers back, and end that leverage. The last power she has, the less her rants can affect you, and the more easily you can chirpily say something like, “Well, mum, I can feel an aneurysm coming on, so I’m going to go now! Cheers!” and go on to something more pleasant.

I miss you, too. When are you coming out again? I’m not sure when I’m going to get back to the UK, but you and Neil are one of my top travel destinations when I have the funding. :)
Oct. 20th, 2011 10:45 pm (UTC)
Re: Bleah.
P.S. Miss ya hon.
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )


Nat S Ford
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