WHAT IS THE LESSON?

 You know, some religions believe that you’re here to learn a lesson and if you don’t learn it the easy way then it just gets harder and harder.... Like the three little pigs.... You learn it until your house falls down and hopefully by the time you’re wrapping up your stay here you’ll be in the brick house boiling the lesson in a pot in the fireplace.

Apparently, I’m not getting my lesson and my house keeps being blown down.

Right now I’m my life, forgetting the health stuff for awhile, I’m dealing with my oldest son and his demon. Pray that your child never marries someone so unlikable that you’d rather cut your hair by fire than be exposed to their hateful personality, and now a new one......

My oldest daughter and I have gone through rough times. Not gonna lie. She’s always been “ extra” but when she gave birth to my love, Lincoln, she’s been more.... Mellow. It really seemed to take the edge off of her personality. Now, do we still get our horns stuck together, probably twice a year and it seems to be a rule that one of those times is in November. I have no idea why.

Ok.... for the last couple of months she’s been tough to enjoy. For several reasons that don’t need to be listed but she has Tourette’s, if you don’t know her, you can’t tell, but every couple of years she gets a particularly harsh tic. RAGE. It cycles in and it takes nearly two months to cycle out. 

The target of this rage is always me. I acknowledge it, she acknowledges it and when she’s cycling out she’ll admit that it’s me that she takes it out on because it’s me that will take it. Not her dad, or husband or siblings or children, or friends... You get the idea. Most other adults would just walk away from the verbal abuse. I’m the punching bag and I have literally been the PUNCHING bag. In fact, that’s why we made her move out, there was an incident when I was still in bed recovering from a major surgery.

Last week she ramped up. These days I just hang up when she starts in but she sounded different and I was worried so I asked this:” Are you ok? Is there something I need to know? Do you need help?” And the universe exploded into tiny shards of furious rage. She was furious that I was being “ condescending” how dare I ask if she was ok, like she’s crazy or something. She lost her mind over my new Tiffany’s bracelet, why, you ask, I have NO idea but it set her off in fury. Yes, that is strange, unusual, uncalled for and off the reservation compared to her “NORMAL” rage , which is what prompted me to ask if she was ok.

She called her dad and read him the riot act, and THAT, has NEVER happened before. He got a really good idea of what I deal with..... During the conversation with her dad she told him that she would not see or speak with us unless I apologized for asking if she was ok and therefor disrespecting her. Her dad said...  “Don’t hold your breath” and she said “ Fine, then you can’t see the grandkids either” she’s also blocked us from seeing pictures of them.

WTF did I do in a previous life? Did I eat babies? Drown kittens? Burn crosses?

How is this situation supposed to be dealt with? My doctor says to remove any and all ways used to “ punish” me... if they use no contact then don’t answer when they do call. Then only text. If they refuse to give gifts on Mother’s Day, birthday, Christmas, then tell them that we will not participate in any type of gift exchange. If we want to give a gift then avoid birthdays and holidays and tell them to do the same, so they can’t punish me. If they use the grandkids, and this is the one that will kill me, then pull away from them. Become less emotionally attached with my children and theirs. Arms length. That way my children won’t feel that it will do any good to weaponize the grandkids. 

I get all of that and she’s right. If a toddler hits you with a wooden spoon, you take it away, I get it. But I love my grand babies so much. And it’s fucking shit that my Amelia was suppose to spend last weekend with us. She’s willing to hurt them to hurt me and that is as low down as it gets. 

How the fuck did I raise my fucking mother when I did everything possible to be the exact opposite? Kind, calm, understanding, supportive, open to any discussion anywhere, non punitive, non judgemental, instill them with pride, bravery, loyalty etc.... 

What is the lesson that I didn’t learn when dealing with my mother that I having to deal with it again?

It’s really dark right now. I had a Tito’s iced tea last week and I was drunk... cheap date!! And it was great!! No worries.

Not really healthy to do that on the daily! 

I don’t know how to cope with the thoughts spinning in my head. The rotating emotions, pain, crying,  anger, hurt, rage, sadness, hate,  love, loss.... LOSS. 

On a side note.. I have a video conference with a publisher about my book. That could be good.

Thanks for trudging through this. I’m sure it’s been a bucket of laughs. My bad. Diary stuff is just shitty sometimes.

Tracy