Somewhere along the way…

I’ve become a heartless basterd.

the first rule of killin natzees is, you don’t talk about killin natzees….(inglorious basterds much?)

ah-Hah!  Another realization.  4 months in and the hits just keep on coming.  I think I’ve alluded to how I keep everyone at arm’s reach before.  If not, well, here’s your notice.  I can remember doing it even before starting drinking.  It may have stemmed from when my parent’s divorced.  I remember when my wife and I were first dating (3 yrs post parent divorce), and I had this wall I wouldn’t let her past.  Well, then I did a little, and here we are.  16yrs 2 kids 2 dogs and several cats later….(=

But, back to the point.  I’m in a bit of a tiff with my mom right now.  Seems like the past few years the holidays have just become this contentious pissing contest with her.  The drama that has occurred is such that I have such hateful thoughts and feelings running through my head, even I am shocked.  Shocked I say.  I thought I knew myself pretty well, but c’mon man, this is your MOM, you can’t be thinking of her this way.

Then it got me to thinking about my apathy in general.  I KNOW I’ve alluded to that before.  People I work with often call me Zen.  Too bad they’re just mistaking it for apathetic disinterest.  I know they say don’t quit right before the miracle happens, and that things will keep getting better and all that.  And I spose at this point I’m supposed to pray about it, and my sponsor even suggested just to pray to “be willing to pray”.  That’s pretty cool.  Just not there right now.  I know what I should do, what I need to, but I don’t want to.

In just about every meeting you’ll go to, you’ll hear about alcoholics and how self centered we are.  Yup, true dat.  I even went and looked up the references (not really I just did a quick google search on it)

The Big Book references for Self-Centered and Self-Centeredness are:

page 14 self-centeredness.
page 61 self-centered—ego-centric
page 62 self-centeredness
page 62 self-centeredness
page 116 self-centered

I don’t want to pray about it.  I WANT to be angry about it.  I WANT her to be hurt, just like I am.  how fucking fucked up is that?

you WANT me on that wall, you NEED me on that wall, b/c deep down in places you don’t like to talk about at cocktail parties…..(jack nicholson much?)

Even tho it’s upsetting, I’m enjoying it.  I spose it stems from years and years of coming home from college on the weekend and she’s not in town.  she’s out gambling, or it’s the fact that less than a month after I moved out for college she had completely redone my room and it wasn’t my room anymore.  Or she had my cat put down after I moved out.  Or any time we come into town and she is actually there, every time we meet has to be on HER terms. And back in the day it didn’t really bother me, but now looking back on the entire body of work?  ya, it does now.  Well fuck it.

That’s a large part of what the drama at Thanksgiving was about.  We were tired after driving into town, we were staying across town at my wife’s dad’s, we didn’t feel like going over to her place, and we invited her and her husband over to my wife’s dad’s place. (I’ve mentioned my wife’s family and my mom/her husband live in the same town right?  well, here’s your notice)  They didn’t come, we didn’t want to go over to her place, we didn’t really spend that much time together.  But the CHERRY on the top was Thanksgiving itself.  Her husband’s daughter is married to a convicted sex offender.  let that sink in…..with the caveat I have young kids.  Sposedly it was stupid kid stuff where he was over 18 dating his under 18 COUSIN.  Oh and the indecent exposure charge tacked on a couple years after that.  We were invited to mom’s house, where he’d be.  We declined, we invited her over.  They declined.  Round and Round we go.

Follow up caveat: her husband has prostate cancer and is on drugs/therapy and is really run down.  I get that.  I GET that.  oh btw, he’s mostly deaf and can’t handle loud settings with lots of people talking.  just can’t hear anything.  you have to look directly at him one on one and talk loudly for him to get anything.  thus her reasons for not coming over.

At first, my mom was dead set against him too, but over the years she’s come to accept him as a person that just made some bad choices.  He’s got a couple of his own kids now and of course they’re uneducated and poor as dirt.  Well, good for her.  I have no interest in even taking the risk.  Because of that I have been called, and I quote “non christian” by my mother.  aw hell naw you di-int. I am a concerned parent protecting my kids and you just don’t realize how much you’ve pissed me off by calling me “non christian”.   So she lays the guilt trip on and how hurt she is.  So I explain how offensive her non-christian comment was.  back and forth blah blah blah.  I don’t want to talk to her.  I don’t want to see her.  I can’t even sign a fucking christmas card to her.  We’re staying here for christmas, then will go visit the folks for new years.  not looking forward to it.  at. all.

but the argument I’m having with myself is this:  am I just being a concerned parent, or am I using this latest instance of bullshit as an excuse; given the resentment I feel for the years of perceived neglect I mentioned above, feeding into my alcoholic self centeredness?  I could pray about it, and turn the other cheek, but as I mentioned above – I DO NOT WANT TO.


~ by sobriety6923 on December 15, 2011.

One Response to “Somewhere along the way…”

  1. This is real good stuff, and I hope you’ve got a decent qualified-type person to talk with about it regularly. It’s worth doing, if only because it gives you a regular time to go in, bash away at it, and drop it. You get somewhere eventually.

    (And congratulations on that 4 months, btw. That’s fantastic and I’m so happy for you and your family. Keep it up, whatever works.)

    An idea about dealing with your mom, just to hold in reserve:

    You’re describing two modes here: Utter detachment (“I give up”) and rage. Both denote helplessness. Let me suggest that another mode is possible, and it’s to do with what you actually want, given what’s likely available, and what you’re willing to give, and why. Of course, that means knowing what you actually want, and accepting the limits of what’s likely available, and giving freely because you actually want to give (rather than because you feel obliged or are trying to make someone else do something), and just being cool with the whole thing.

    My folks are difficult people, to put it kindly. My mom…well, I’ve had to establish rules of engagement, and if she’s good, I’m good back. If she starts acting up, that’s it, we’re done for now, maybe we’ll try again another time. I know what I’m willing to do on her behalf — a consideration, since she’s getting on — and I’m comfortable with it, regardless of what she or others in my family might think.

    My dad, on the other hand — you know, he’s one of those guys that means well, and thinks he’s a real good guy, but jeez, the way he treats people is just unreal. He doesn’t or can’t get it, despite wives leaving him, children severing contact, whatever. I know it’s not malicious of him, he’s not a mean guy, but the expectations there just have to be real, real low. I don’t set things up anymore so that he can disappoint me or my kid; we give whatever love we feel like giving, whenever; and if he can manage to get it together enough to show us the love, then grand. That’s a nice day. If not? There’s plenty else going on in our lives; we weren’t holding our breaths. And again, it’s not as though he means ill.

    How’d I get to this point…you know, I don’t really know. I do know that being a parent’s taught me a lot, and that I just feel like a grownup now. I run my life, I’m responsible for my kid’s. I know my folks are getting on and vulnerable. The hardest thing to accept, I think, is that your parents aren’t going to be what you wanted or thought they ought to be, and maybe aren’t going ever to recognize you, look you dead in the eye and know you for who you are. Or maybe they do, but their reaction’s not what you want. You see happier families — or families that look happier, there’s no way to know — and you figure your parents ought to be doing that for you. Maybe they should. But they’re people, and they’re limited, like anyone else. The rest you gotta do for yourself and your own kids. And the big question is about how you feel about doing that, and why.

    I’m sure I disappoint my daughter, and that at some point she’ll be angry with me for not being something I’m just not, something she needed. All I hope is that at some point, when she comes to the recognition that she can’t get blood from a turnip, it’ll help her that I can say yeah, she’s on the right track, and that it’s okay with me, her seeing me that way; that it’s okay even for her to be angry at me, so long as it doesn’t eat her life up. And that if I can support her in any helpful way in becoming whatever it is she needs for herself, I’m right there for her.

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