Originally written on August 17, 2013: Another post transferred from Safire Falcon. I just read through it and it needs some editing to clarify the situation. But reading this got me so angry. I need a break from this shit as much as I need to post it. It gave me heart palpitations. That’s how pissed off I got as I reread this post. It needs editing, but I need to sleep right now.
These people are so fucked up to have treated me like this. My own mother especially, but my sister in this scenario too is quite the POS. I need another word to refer to this group of assholes because they are not family.
I was emotionally abused as a child and later scapegoated and manipulated by family as an adult. The latter showing its ugly dynamics in the first few months of this year (2013) awakening me to total awareness of the seriousness of the toxicity.
During those months we were caring for my father, while he was terminally ill, a particular agreement was made within this situation between my mother and I after my sister had very obviously triangulated her against me, after a conversation between my sister and me pertaining to the same subject.
The conclusion sis and I had reached on the phone wasn’t satisfactory to her apparently, but instead of letting me know, instead of discussing it with me, like an adult, she called “mommy.”
It hadn’t even been an argument, and it had actually seemed to me that when my sister and I hung up, we were in agreement and on the same boat.
Take note: This is what narcissists will do to your ‘face’. But behind your back they talk shit, triangulate and devise some plan with someone else to get you to think that YOU are the douche bag, when all along they are the players, fucking with your mind.
But although my sister acts like a narc in some situations, especially with me, she doesn’t act like that in every scenario with every person.
My mother called me to get the agreement out of me that my sister was afraid to re-address. And I went ahead in the end and told my mother that I would take a couple days to figure out what I would agree to in caring for my father.
I thought it through and let my mom know specifically what I would agree to and she took it back to my siblings, whom I was told agreed with my terms too. I was actually appreciative that she was willing to play mediator since I knew that logical adult conversation was probably not a probability with my sibs and me.
We all walked on eggshells, had to crane our necks around big fat elephants in any room we were in and I for one had begun to felt afraid given I’d been physically attacked or threatened by both of them.
My parents were divorced, but in addition to my mother’s mediation, she had also told me/agreed that she’d go to my father’s if none of us three kids could get there at a particular time.
Just weeks later, there was an attempt to manipulate me out of my terms one particular weekend. I was exhausted and completely stressed from the chaos that had ensued on a particular Saturday. In fact that specific Saturday, I was not supposed to be there at all. But was later asked to go for breakfast. I was there for much longer as a result of the home health aid (who was being paid) not showing up with her car. A car she needed to do the grocery run she was scheduled to do.
I was so ready for Sunday (the day after) to replenish and get some stuff done at home. And not see any of my fucked up family, including my father. Dying or not, he was still an asshole.
But then the text came from sister, asking, “Can you do lunch tomorrow? You’ll just need to be there an hour.”
I knew that “only being there an hour” wasn’t likely, given my so called breakfast visit that same morning which turned into half the day and a severely chaotic one at that.
In fact I had spoken to my sister mere hours before receiving that text and told her I wouldn’t be going the next day. There was no acknowledgement of that day being Sunday…one of my AGREED days OFF!
Not that I can’t be flexible. But I felt like I was being taken advantage of. I had even mentioned to my sister that mom said she’d go if none of us were available. BEcause after I’d told my sister I wasn’t going the next day while we were talking on the phone, she mumbled, “I can’t go tomorrow.”
Of course she couldn’t. She didn’t want to deal with any of the hard part but she expected me to. In her little twisted mind, she seemed to think I owed it to everyone.
I needed a whole day. Well truthfully I needed my whole life back or at least the rest of it, but that’s another story.
The mom specifically told me that she’d step up and fill in when none of us three kids could be there. Seems to me this qualified. So what the fuck is with the communication break down here? Maybe mom wasn’t saying the same shit to my sister as she was saying to me. But then how would I know.
My sister, apparently thinking she was my mother at that point and me her small Cinderella child, didn’t think the mom should have to drive down for “just breakfast.” I found this out later when I finally got hold of my mom to be sure she was (or someone) was going to take care of my father’s lunch.
I had called my mother to tell her someone was needed Sunday. But she seemed to forget the agreement too since I got a cold response. “Well I’ll talk to brother.” (Of course she said his name, but I’m not using names.) So apparently brother trumped me and trumped our agreement. WTF for? I was telling her what was needed. My word apparently wasn’t good enough.
So after not having the courtesy returned to me with a phone call or text from either the mom or sister, I called my mother and was informed she’d talk to my brother. That was the night before. The next day I called her again. She was clearly irritated, told me she was headed to dad’s in this tone of voice that came across like I was asking a stupid question and should know what she was doing.
And I was informed that my sister was frustrated (when I’d asked if she was angry) and didn’t understand why I couldn’t go instead of my mom driving down.
1. There is only a 15 minute difference drive time between my mom and I to the place my dad had lived.
2. The agreement was made this way to give me time to replenish. My dad was dying but he was not easy to be around and he was my abuser. And news fucking flash mom: YOU ALLOWED IT! And were in fact an abuser to me as well.
I did not verbalize number one or number 2 above, but I did ask her if she mentioned the agreement to my sister and her reply was, with an eye roll in her voice, “No, I didn’t want to go there.”
Of course not womb donor, you couldn’t possibly find it in yourself to stick up for me, tell her the truth and be fucking real with your very own narcissistic daughter. I suppose it was easier to keep the scapegoat daughter, the one who froze when she needed to be sticking up for herself, squashed in her role.
A twisted, toxic dynamic, with a dying man in the middle of it. It was a very life draining and soul stealing on-going event. Not to mention how drained of my soul I’d already been, being raised in such an environment.