Friday evening ramble

May I ramble a bit more about mom, and about my mom-related epiphanies? They just keep coming.

A year ago, I thought I was at peace with mom and her antics. This was before the most recent, most egregious antics, but I still thought I'd come to terms with the reality and learned to manage it: hear it out, let it roll off, and transpose it into humorous copy for my faithful readers. I had accepted that mom wasn't going to change, so I'd better adapt however I could. Out of loyalty and love, I would continue to visit her, and I would continue to deal by writing about her. But I realize now that I resented her for that arrangement: she had won. She could be herself, say whatever she wanted, do whatever she wanted--no matter the impact on anyone else. By wearing everyone out and determining that she would never budge, she had won. And--as I also learned as I accepted a similar arrangement with F., when you feel that the arrangement is unfair, you end up snapping. I went into the Labor Day Weekend trip holding my breath and letting mom do her thing, all the while resenting her for it.

But then I stopped resenting her, because I realized just how much she has not won. I understand just how tortured she is. All the f*ed up accusations she hurls at me (and dad, and everyone else) are reflections of what she doesn't like about herself. She knows she has these issues, and she refuses to meaningfully address them, so she projects them on everyone else. She knows that it's obnoxious to constantly interrupt someone when they're talking to someone--especially someone in a foreign country--which is why she takes it so personally when she's called on it. She can't accept responsibility for anything (see previous post), so calling her out makes her lash out.

This doesn't make her any easier to be around, but removes some of the manufactured injustice from the situation. It's not, "you win, I'm going to sit here and let you insult me, because that's the only way it can be;" it's, "we both lose, but you lose more, so interacting with you is still no picnic, but I feel compassion for you rather than resentment, and it makes me more sad than angry or bitter."