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I've been trying to avoid dealing with this (again) for a while now. This is something I don't like to talk about, but I guess I need to. It keeps coming up in my head and I keep dreaming of it.
"It" is the situation with my mom and sister.
As I said, I don't like to talk about it. It's very painful to me and it is also something I'm ashamed of--that my mom and sister think so little of me.
My mom is one of those people who isn't happy unless she's miserable. It's like she doesn't know how to attract anyone's attention if she isn't self-destructing in some way or another. She's a drama queen, a chaos-addict and a control freak. And did I mention career victim? She has never deserved or put herself in a position to get anything that's ever happened to her; it's all done TO HER. That particular trait makes me sick. For 15 years she played the victim of an abusive husband. I'm not saying she deserved that, I'm saying she found every reason she could to stay, ultimately saying she couldn't leave and go it alone with two kids. She made sure EVERYONE knew her 'plight:' I rarely remember her having visible bruises and Dave always 'behaved' in front of others, so the way she chose and forced me and my sister to live did not have to be common knowledge. But it was. Instead of being ashamed of how she was treated like typical battered wives are, she all but bragged to family and friends that she got beaten and treated like shit--so they all went 'poor Marcia.' When he would buy her something nice to make up for punching her, she made sure to tell everyone why she got it. I can't speak for Abby, but I was ashamed. I sure as hell didn't want people knowing I got called a cripple, a beak-nose and a goon and I never understood why she wanted others to know she got called a titless abortionist whore between kicks.
Career victim. My Dad says that when I was diagnosed with my neurological disorder at almost 13, I became my mom's permanent ticket to martyrdom, and he's right. She was permanently burdened with my care, or so she led everyone to think. I didn't even use a wheelchair fulltime until I was 20, so it's not like she had to do anything special for me. Take me to a neurologist once or twice a year and that was it. I'm a mom, so I can understand how having a sick kid might affect you, but it wasn't like I was a 'special needs' kid. But it was ALL about her and how hard it was FOR HER for me to be sick and how hard it was FOR HER to watch me go through painful medical tests and how she blamed HERSELF and 'oh look at what I'VE done to my daughter and how much pain I'M in because of it.' I'll never forget...I used to hate the term 'handicapped' and she used it all the time. One day, I politely asked her to say 'disabled' instead and she blew up at me, ranting that *I* should be more considerate of *her* and who did I think I was, anyway? I reminded her I was the one with the fuckin disease, not her. To this day, she still calls me her handicapped daughter.
Somewhere in there--I don't know when or even how it seeped to me, but somewhere in those years, my mom adopted the attitude that I wasn't 'normal.' My sister, being 4 years my junior, soaked in that attitude without realizing it. So when I wanted to go to Michigan to college (I'm in Ohio), my mom's little world started to unravel. Me being 4 hours away and not needing her to function--how would she be poor Marcia now?? I was NOT normal and had no business wanting a normal life. She guilted me into staying nearby--'OK. But Dave will never let me visit you if you go so far away....' But I was growing up and my body may not be normal but my mind is. I began to want what 'all women' want--a home of my own. A husband. A family.
Can you hear the voices in my mom's head shreiking? Dave killed himself in '95 so she didn't even have the battered wife card anymore. If I grew up and didn't 'need' her anymore, what would she do?? She needs me in a very sick selfish way. When I got married she hated me for a while. When I moved back home with my kids to get divorced, she was thrilled. I needed her, couldn't get by without her. And she manipulated my grief, depression and lonliness until it looked to everyone that I needed her to take care of my kids because I couldn't. I was never supposed to try to be 'normal' again. I was supposed to settle for living with her forever. And I was never EVER supposed to take my girls away. My girls are, and I quote, my mom's "second chance to raise girls who aren't abused." And she honestly thinks I should just give them to her. And she hates me because I won't.
I moved out on March 4th of '03. My kids stayed behind while Justin and I solidified our relationship. My mom very cunningly used that time to try to gently convince me that the girls would be better off with her, mostly because she can buy them more than I can. I admit that she almost had me convinced a time or two (she's SO manipulative!!!!), which is the biggest reason it took me so long to finally bring them here permanently. Once they came to stay for a week over the summer. After two days, she called and said their swimming lessons started Monday so my sister came and got them. That was a lie. Once when they were supposed to come with me for Christmas, she called the day before and said they couldn't come, they had the flu. That was a lie and they came anyway. She's accused Justin of beating and molesting them and when she declared that she wouldn't 'allow' me to see them with Justin anymore, we quickly found a house big enough for all of us. Mom figured the best way to get me to move back with her was to use my kids and when that failed, she decided that just keeping my kids was more than enough.
On April 16th of '04, my girls had spent their spring break with mom, who I thought I was getting along with. She was supposed to bring them home that day. An hour before they were due home and two hours after they should have left to get here, she called and announced that the girls didn't want to come home and she couldn't bear to bring them. When I said I wanted them home anyway, she declared she WOULDN'T bring them home and I was not permitted on her property to get them. She called police and Children's Services, lied and told me CS said not to let me take them. Fortunately, her county sherriffs have dealt with mom enough to know how crazy she is. They escorted us the next morning to get my kids without incident and got CS to call off any investigation. I haven't spoken to my mom since.
This was....unbelievably hard to write and I have to stop now. My mom pulled this shit not 3 weeks after my step-Mom died, which is a true testament to the quality of person my mom is. And my sister, by the way, was right there cheering mom on, reminding me that I had 'abandoned the girls for a man and they knew it,' after all. And sometimes, I still feel guilty that they aren't part of our lives anymore. How twisted is that?

design by fergie

Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.