Not what I needed

So, in addition to dealing with my head wound and anemia (but the new iron pills are settling on my stomach just fine, so that's good, and my head is doing fine) and finishing up the term and prepping for South Africa ... in the midst of all that, I say, my mother and brother decide to have a major conflict that is, inevitably, pulling me in as well.

Two weeks ago, my mom called me to say that when my brother dropped off his daughters to stay with her overnight, he totally lost it and started screaming at her and kept it up for an hour, not letting her get a word in edgewise. It was clearly a kitchen sink sort of argument; he brought up all kinds of quarrels that he had with her over the last 30 years or so. She was devastated.

And then my brother told me his side of the story, admitting that he had completely lost it with her and that he shouldn't have but that this was prompted by the fact that a week or so beforehand she'd been at their house and had gotten completely drunk and had said all sorts of horrible things to him -- another kitchen sink sort of argument. So he was feeling raw and angry, and when she made another comment to him when he dropped off the girls, he just completely lost it.

So I've tried to be sympathetic to both of them -- as indeed I am, since they are both sinned against as well as sinning -- and to mostly stay out of it. And one good thing that has come out of it is that my mom has started seeing a therapist to help her work through this particular crisis, and she really likes the therapist and maybe will get a good deal out of that therapeutic relationship. So I was hoping that all would eventually be well. The two of them haven't talked through these fights, but they have an appointment to talk through some of these issues at the end of this week.

But then last week my mom sent me an email to say that her therapist had suggested that this family conflict might be a good chance to talk with me and "see what [my] perceptions were in those early years." She thought that she might have suppressed some things from the past and wanted to know how I would characterize my childhood ... but she also finished the email by saying that she wasn't sure how she was going to disabuse my brother of his misperceptions but she was sure going to try, which implied to me that she was assuming that everything he said was in fact a misperception.

So I put off replying for a few days and then finally sent the following email yesterday:

Mother,

You asked me earlier this week to respond to some of what [my brother] said a few weeks ago about the way that you treated us when we were young and the way that you treat [my nieces] now. (Or actually, rereading the email, I see that the question was really just about the first issue, but the two are clearly related.)

I'll address this email to you, but I'm sending this email to [my brother] as well to be clear, so that there's no question about what I said or didn't say to whom. And Mother, I know that the email to follow will be hard to read, but it seemed important to be fully honest. It sounded from your email as though you wanted an honest, forthright assessment of my feelings about my childhood and whether there were any issues remaining, so that is what I'm giving you here; I apologize if that is not in fact what you wanted.

My characterization of my childhood is that it was fairly abusive -- more emotionally than physically, since I was never significantly injured but lived under the constant threat that I might get yelled at or hit at any moment; you tended to hit by lashing out quickly, smacking us hard across whatever part of the body was closest -- including across the face -- but didn't give us sustained beatings, so the damage done was more psychological than physical. The mood could go from laughter to screaming in just a moment, which means that I could never trust the good times, since they could fracture into a bad time really quickly. And it wasn't just that you hit us, it's that the blows would just come out of nowhere with no warning. Here's an example that I have a vivid memory of: Once the three of us were in the kitchen, laughing about something, and Mother, you suddenly reached your hand up, and [my brother] and I both flinched away; it turned out that you were just reaching for a box (of cereal, as I remember), and even at the time I thought how sad it was that [my brother] and I both clearly had thought that you had suddenly gotten mad and were going to hit us. Another time, also in the kitchen, you got mad about something that [my brother] had said and grabbed up a small cutting board and hit him hard across the bottom twice ... but then the cutting board split in half, which struck you as hilarious, and suddenly you were laughing hard; [my brother] and I laughed with you, both out of relief because apparently the hitting was over and because by then we learned to ride the emotional waves of the household, and it was important when you were in a good mood that we do what we could to keep you in a good mood. And this pattern is not all post-divorce but dates from our earliest years in [my home state] (which is about as far back as I can consistently remember, other than some small memories of [ancestral home state]). The physical hitting was both a factor in and a sign of our emotionally unstable household.

Now, all of this is water under the bridge in many ways, of course. I've gone through therapy at various times over the years and have worked through much of this, although there are certainly ways in which this past continues to affect our relationship. I don't think we have a sense of unconditional love in our nuclear family; I have a constant sense of having to earn love from you and usually failing to do so completely, and this may be something that we all share. And, even now, I am always waiting to get into trouble with you. This affects how often and when I call you (I avoid calling when I think I've done something or neglected to do something that will get me "in trouble," and I sometimes save up good news that I think will put you in a good mood because it might make you love me more for at least a little while), and it means that I have to psych myself before visiting you because I assume that at some point you will express in disappointment in me. It's an unusual visit to [my home state] that doesn't see me crying in my room at some point. I no longer worry that you're going to hit me, of course, but some of the psychological damage clearly remains. At the same time, I've tried very hard over the years to move past this history, to try not to be someone who's always trying to earn love, and to maintain a strong sense of myself -- that I am a competent adult and a good person no matter what my family may occasionally think -- on visits to you. And of course we've had some very good visits over the years; it's just that even the good times are something of a strain because I worry that it could go bad without much warning.

And then there is the issue of [my nieces]. I have been worried since the girls were very young that you might repeat these same behaviors with them, since that repetition is a pattern in abuse, but I hoped that it wouldn't be the case because I think you're a happier person now than you were when we were young. I have also worried that [my brother] will inherit some of those patterns as a father, because that is also a typical pattern with abuse. As the girls have gotten older and less docile and have more distinct personalities -- all of which is an important part of growing up -- I have seen you lash out at them in ways that make me very uncomfortable. You don't hit them as much as you did [my brother] and me, but I have seen you suddenly smack them when you lose patience, and I am very, very troubled by this. Indeed, I have said something about my concerns to [my brother and his wife] on multiple occasions. I don't think that the girls are in danger of psychological damage in the same way that we were because they don't live with you full time, but I don't want the girls to grow up being afraid of you in the way that I was; I want them to have only warm and affectionate feelings for you, but I worry that your temper and general impatience with anyone who's not doing things the "right way" -- that is, the way you think they should be done -- may eventually undercut the relationship that you have with your granddaughters.

Finally, I think it's important not to underestimate alcohol as a factor in your taking care of the girls well. I have been concerned for years with how much and how regularly you drink, but on the last few visits I've seen you get completely drunk -- as in staggering into walls, slurring your speech, etc. -- which is something I hadn't seen in previous years, and I worry about what's going on with you that you feel the need to blunt your sense of the world around you this much. On the last visit, you were so drunk that you went into the girls' room where they were calm and quiet and almost asleep, and you got them completely riled up, including saying that maybe you all could go to [their favorite store] the next day, and then you got mad and yelled at them when they had a lot of trouble settling back down to sleep, and then you got impatient with them again the next day when they kept asking to go to [their favorite store]; in that case, you essentially set them up to misbehave and punished them for that misbehavior, which is not fair to them or to your relationship. The girls love you very much; I don't want anything to interfere with that affection.

I know that this email will be a lot to take in and will be very painful to read, Mother, and I'm sorry to have caused that pain, but I hope that being honest with you is a starting point for moving forward, hopefully with mutual love and patience and understanding among all of us.

Love, WN

I felt pretty good about the email -- I tried to be honest and healthy and as kind as I could be -- but now that 24 hours have passed and I haven't heard from either my mom or my brother, I'm beginning to fret a bit. But honestly, she asked for it -- and I mean that not in a snarky way but absolutely literally; she really did ask for my perceptions. If I weren't going to South Africa on Friday (yikes! panic and excitement battling it out for top status!), I'd just leave things and wait for her to contact me when she was ready, but I feel the need to have a normal interaction with her before I leave the country for two weeks. So I think I might send another update email (I've been sending them to my family and D's mom about my health status since my little fainting episode) to say "I'm feeling fine and I'm all jazzed about South Africa"; that will be a pretty normal email and will reinforce that dealing with the past doesn't mean that the present has to be bad.

Comments

[esperanza]

Thanks for sharing, it gives me food for thought in several places.

And, I want to make sure you know that you didn't redact your brother's name in a couple of places.

[What Now?]

Esperanza, thanks for the heads up -- all fixed now!

[Amanda/Hypatia]

What a brave letter to write. I think you carefully reflected the situation to your mom -- that's hard to do (It would have been easier to stay out of it and sidestep the request for your perspective). I pray that it leads to change and a restoration of your relationships.

Amanda

[Bardiac]

/hug You're wonderful, and an amazing daughter and friend. You struck a perfect tone with that email, so thoughtful and calm and caring.

Keep feeling better and have a GREAT trip to Africa!

[meg]

I can't decide whether I'm happy or sad for you. But of course I'm hoping that it will bring about promising new dynamics and fewer bouts of WN locking herself in the bathroom to preserve her sanity!

[susan]

What a family event so close to your trip! I hope that your brave step forward with communicating is one step toward an overall healthier dynamic for your family. Good for you.

[meansomething]

"Brave" is the word I was thinking, too. Brave, too, to be so measured and compassionate as you wrote. It's probably good that she's taking some time to digest it. Sending you hugs, and wishes for a great trip to a beautiful part of the world!

[Flavia]

As I read this email, I kept muttering, "Shit! You're amazing!"

And I mean it. Regardless of how your mother and brother react, and I suspect it won't be positively, at least initially, it seems like you've said things that really needed saying--and that, hopefully, will make your relationships better & stronger going forward.

[Rev Dr Mom]

I think you wrote an amazing letter to your mom. I know how hard this kind of family drama is, and I hope that she will be able to work through this with the help of her therapist. Hugs to you as you deal with all this.

[Rev Dr Mom]

And wow do I ever empathize with feeling of waiting to get in trouble with your mom even as an adult....been there, done that.