|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|Saturday evening, I spoke with my mother via telephone. She's a real pip, that one...
My family of origin is a stew of dysfunctionality. And I never realized until quite recently, just how strong my mother's influence had been in causing it. She always blamed my father for our problems. Granted, his unchecked alcoholic-rage-aholism did its damage - but HER! Aaaack! Don't get me started!
Anyway, the crux of the phone call was to discuss my brother's son's ADHD, which had been recently diagnosed (due to my efforts and nagging at his idiotstick parents to get him tested - not for ADHD but for dyslexia, because as far as I could tell, the kid couldn't read a lick - and he's 14!)
So, they have the kid tested for everything under the sun, and the doctor comes up with the ADHD diagnosis (this runs in my family too. The kidlet has it, and the ex-husband has it, but a neurologist told me last year that I was hyperactive (what? me???) and most likely my brother has it... so it makes sense the nephew would have it too). They're putting him on some newfangled medication, Adder*al. The kid is happy, because finally somebody is telling him he's not stupid. His evil mother was weeping her eyes out in the doctor's office, because she's been beating him and making him sit on his bed with nothing to do for weeks now - as "discipline" (*fuckingbitchslutho*).
My mother and I are discussing this on the phone, and how marvelous my brother has turned out to be as a father... Then, she starts in with the whining about how he always blames her for his shortcomings as a human, and how he says she is responsible for him never having positive relationships with women. Then, she asks, "if I'm such a bad mother, why is it that one of my kids is okay and the other one is so fucked up?" I asked her which kid she thought was "okay". She said it was me. I nearly busted a gut laughing at that one!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ME? FINE???? Bwaaaaaah! I borrowed a line from Ving Rhames in "Pulp Fiction" at that point. I said "I'm pretty fucking far from okay"
We talked about how children see and learn and model their future choices from watching their parents interact. What did my brother and I learn from her and my father?
My brother learned (and acts out) that men are helpless, ambitionless, constantly angry, yell the loudest to win an argument. Women will save you, but you must hate them for it.
I learned (and act out) that men are helpless, "sons-of-bitches", are weak and in constant need of saving. The men with the most problems are the most attractive. Being a martyr is more important than honest communication in a relationship.
Our conversation was most interesting, because I noted those things I had learned from my mother's relationship with my father, when I was growing up. I asked my mother to remember some of the things she learned from her mother. You know, the woman who married the "town drunk" and raised 9 children on her own in the middle of The Depression. My mother refused to examine that stuff at all. She said that her mother only gave her "good things". I met my grandmother. Believe me, there was plenty of pathology to go around.
I'm very happy that my child, who already has the makings of a great co-dependent, can avail herself of therapy. I'm grateful that there are medications available to her, and my nephew, so they don't have to suffer with low self esteem and poor grades from their inability to pay attention. I'm thankful that I can look at my life for what it is, rather than some make-believe story I pulled out of my ass - like my mother does... And I'm hopeful that in time, I won't be quite as damaged as I am today.
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|