Well, That Wasn't Altogether Sheer Torture...

I have just returned from visiting Mommie Dearest. Yes, I am sick and twisted but so was my upbringing so I feel I am entitled to that. In fact, sick and twisted humour was the only thing that managed to keep my partner and I (relatively) sane throughout the entire evening. During one private moment, I whipped my Zippo out of my pocket and mocked self-immolation. My partner's a good egg. She even laughed as I quickly dashed to the computer the minute we got home as I signed on to start blogging.

In some fairness to my mother, she was actually more well-behaved than the last time I had seen her. We talked about quite a lot. My mother is a real motormouth and truthfully, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I can become quite engaged and really get going and in some cases probably annoy the hell out of a lot of people? I'm not sure. I'm too animated to tell and my own preoccupation with the subject matter I'm talking about supercedes my social skills.

Anyway, it was still a painful evening--and I don't mean in an emotionally sad way. I mean, rather, exhaustively, frustratingly and maddeningly.

As always, it's good to have a third party to observe. My poor partner, subjected to all of this. She's pretty astute at picking up social behaviours and just sitting back and watching people interact, tuning in to what might be motivating factors. And she knows key details of the family history etc... When we went outside for a smoke after dinner, we were trying to find out if I was being "antagonistic," "combative" or downright "looking for a fight." We finally decided that it was "none of the above."

My therapist says that I am "learning to find my voice." I have sat passive and mute for basically my entire life (up until now?) I am learning to "use my voice" but it's difficult. At times I still revert to wanting to just sit there and take it (or tune out) but not tonight.

For example, my mother is obsessed with The Blood Type Diet. No, I will not link to it as it is junk science and I fucking hate it. I'm sorry if you are reading this and you are a follower of this type of "thing" but I completely disagree with it. Anyway, Mom wanted to be a nurse so I feel I can slip into "amateur medico-scientist" mode and we had at it. She's actually extremely smart in a somewhat mentally ill, demented sort of way. Granted, she let me have my say and it was basically me just countering everything she said but it wasn't only that issue. There were more. Lots of them. A couple of times she slipped into one of her more "dissociative" states. She does not have DID and I don't mean a dissociative state or fugue in the classical sense. It's merely a diversion technique that she uses when she doesn't want to talk or deal with something anymore. It's very challenging to deal with. It's also very sad and possibly(?) the result of her own trauma but I can't focus on that. I've parented her ever since I was a child and if I slip back into that mode of thinking I'm doomed for sure.

Next, her husband. He is so absolutely annoying. I guess the worst of it is his continual sexual innuendo and commentary. Now I do not have virgin ears (or any other part of my body ha!) and I can talk just as trashy (or worse!) as the next person but I know where to do it, when and with whom. Unless I make a really bad unintentional pun or lose my filter by accident but that's just a bad joke/gaffe. And it's unintentional! I find it completely abhorrent that this man who is married to my mother (do I need to repeat that?!) at his age would continue to keep saying such things! I mean, I am the furthest thing from a prude but she's my fucking mother and I am her fucking daughter. Show some sense of decency and decorum.

Anyway, I am now in possession of my "bank draft," we celebrated Christmas (a month late?) and now it's over...at least until the next time.