Stepping Up to be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 7

Cards on the Table – And Playing the Ones I Got 🙂

Yeah, that’s me in attempt to be normal. Ha! Still had no idea. That phrase above ^ well I wrote that as a heading of yet another script to talk to my brother with. I was foolishly still believing that I could approach from a reasonable standpoint. I actually think I wrote this even before the other ones I’ve written out in this series. It does seem it was after the conversation with him and his initial words to me about our father, his illness and helping out. Again, I’m not sure about the exact time-line or if it was before the phone call with my sister, when I was fooled into believing she was understanding and validating me. This is embarrassing, that I would be so naive, so not getting that I was being abused.

This is sort of a proposal you could say for working out Dad’s needs and what I can do if you want/need my help.

I’ve been thinking about it for a couple weeks and after talking to you today and a couple nites ago, I’ve come to some conclusions.

I’m trying to amke it sound not so business-y, but as you pointed out (indirectly) on the phone, that can be hard to do.  Never-the-less, this is an attempt/suggestion as to where I can “come in” and also participate in the saving of money, while aslo taking care of self and hoping that you- (Brother)- can also get some time for self and with (Girlfriend) as well.

And then I go into telling him my income per week, a very low income at that and what I am doing it for it. I go onto explain that I do make more if I have a cat (when owners go away on vacation), but the small amount that is a regular income is all I can count on weekly.

And then I say: “So just with that info alone, you can probably see how the responsibility of the car, it’s gas and other expenses is cost prohibitive for me. ”

So obviously, he talked about me taking over my father’s car entirely, so that I could get back and forth to my father on a daily. But of course his thought process doesn’t go as far as to ask where the fuck was the money going to come from, given that he was going to want me to give up one of my sources of income.

Then I went onto explain how I afford food and about my medical benefits! Went into mentioning some other personal information that was really none of his damn business.

I then added that I wanted to explain all that before I went into my idea, so you understand where I’m coming from and why I’m asking for what I’m about to ask for with the proposal.

And then it stops.

I don’t know, but it looks like some of the stuff in the series is a bit out of order. These ideas came from talking to my brother from the start of all of this. He was the first person that I talked to about my father and what had happened and the diagnosis he was given.

I don’t feel like figuring it all out. The order really doesn’t matter. The logistics don’t matter that much. It’s about how I feel and how this illustrates the depth of the toxic sludge that I was involved in here.

I’m not going to spend even more time on this putting the time line together perfectly like some puzzle. All of this shit, no matter the order, tells me exactly what I need to know.


Stepping Up to be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 6

Another script I never used.

-Have a set day (Tues) so that money is there for me each week without a hitch.

-Fill in HHA when (brother) or I can’t or won’t be there.
Possibly new company. I can set that up. We NEED someone with a car!
(Name of HHA- I’ll use the initial P) is showing up without a car. Whoever our HHA will be will need to run errands.

I take over the schedule. I have no problem – if you tell me when your not gonna be there doing that.

We need an HHA that can cook-
You and I, if we need the microwave have that privilege but if we’re paying someone she has to prep a meal, if he wants one.

The HHA needs to start her work – whatever she needs to do when she walks through the door. P is sitting on her ass playing word games for half the time and that’s burning money – unacceptable.

If she gets done early and still needs to be there to babysit – be sure he’s safe – sitting on her ass is fine. But if she gets her stuff done and one of us is there or he’s sleeping soundly – then she can be let go early.

If we have her there for the dinner time hours, then she can basically come in and start dinner.

This i, if you prep and edible meal while he’s sleeping, you can wake him up and he WILL come to the table to eat it.

So with all of this, all (sister) will need to do is schedule dr. appointments and take him to them.

We also need to be able to call HH on a last minute basis.

Things come up and there might be times when we’ll need that and I think we should be prepared for that.

Hm, well, it’s obvious that I was still delusional enough to think any of my ideas would matter. I never said any of this, but again, it was another script to confront someone with. I think this one was meant for my brother.

As you can see, I wanted to address the money for gas situation that was being completely ignored and denied.

I think it’s pretty obvious with what I’ve written what I was pissed off about.  There was one day I’d talked to my sister on the phone when she’d told me she and P “were standing in the kitchen talking for a while.”  I was like, WTF? She’s not a friend coming for a visit. She’s someone hired to do a fucking job. So maybe a few minutes, I’m not a talking about cracking a whip, but we’re talking about an hour of down time here.

No doubt my anger was coming from the way I was being treated. My sister was treating P with respect while treating me like shit. I saw the down time P had and then she’d come over and throw a frozen dinner into the microwave. What a bunch of bullshit! And then to keep someone on who didn’t have a car and so could not run errands in the time she was there, just didn’t make sense to me. And I was especially angry about this after that Saturday I had to pick up where she was dropping the ball.

I would get angry but never have the guts to confront any of them with it. I said something to my mother that particular Saturday that P was supposed to go grocery shopping, but all she said was, “Just go get the groceries.”

Yeah, because the shit I had to do didn’t fucking matter.

The whole situation was disorganized and chaotic. I understand that people get all fucked up in times of stress. But for fuck’s sake, how about allowing ALL input. If I’d been allowed to actually ‘step up’ and utilize my strengths, rather than being molded into a submissive role, shit could’ve gone much more smoothly. We would’ve had better home health help for sure.

Below is more unrealistic thinking that I could talk to my brother rationally and have us both be adults in a particular situation. It was even more ridiculous to think that my narcissistic sister would even consider allowing me to take the reins on scheduling HHAs.

-So Saturdays is a definite HH need from 2-8 or even 3-8 or 4-8, if you’re OK with him being alone after I leave at 2.

-Do you want just one other day or two where you’re not there at all?

-Whatever those days are will depend on the HHA schedule.

-Do you want someone round the clock if neither one of us are there?

Stepping Up to be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 5

Continuing with the series, this is not a question but a ‘script’ to use to confront in defense of myself at the point that my father’s car was being offered to me so that I could get back and forth to his apartment. I had no car of my own and very little income. Putting gas in a car was a hardship.

I had felt that B was doing enough for me, although it’s clear now that there were issues there too. He never offered to help with easing up on the stress at the time with gas money. And as far as my family was concerned, I was really uncomfortable and afraid to ask outright for gas money.  I would make a comment to my brother about being broke hoping he’d get the hint and he’d just tell me how difficult things were for him too.

They wanted me to be there, but not a thought to gas money for me was given. In fact, one day I texted my sister and told her I didn’t have enough money to get gas and didn’t have enough gas to get to an from my father’s. So I wasn’t going that day.

She of course called my mother and my mother in turn called me. My mother gave me some money to get through for about a week or two in gas, but of course gas is a consumable and I was back to struggling when that money ran out. They never made it easy and I was terrified of them.  (This blue color is the added commentary, the black is the original wording.

-I do not have the money to pay insurance for sure nor do I have the money at this point to keep the amt of gas needed in the car to get to and from, even 5 nites a week.  Takes 1/8 of a tank round trip. So I would need help with gas and can only keep it right now if he keeps paying the insurance.

This topic must’ve been brought up by my brother. I can’t think of anyone else who would actually throw this idea out there, knowing full well I had such little income. What a dick. Don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t let anyone else off the hook for their bullshit. It’s just something they would know better about. That’s all.

Most of the money I get right now is usually already spoken for before I even get it. Just to give an idea, I ran out of shampoo 2 days before I had cash in hand to buy more.

Financial situation here is bad, I do need to get a job. I have sporadically applied and have tried SSI but it really is taking too long. B is having an even tougher time since our electric bill went way up.

We have a ceiling that may just come crumbling down in the next couple months, if that. Probably mold and dry rot up there. B won’t say anything to his sister because he’s worried she’ll raise the rent if he brings anything up about the house and my hands are tied since it’s his family and I’m not prepared to even pay half of what the rent is now.

I help him where I can. So bottom line there is, I need to be more serious about finding employment. And since we don’t have a prognosis on Dad, I can’t “just wait until all this is over.”

Since the car is the asset that would provide the money for his care, I am looking at places I could get to either by bike or trolley.  Thing is, most of those places are retail outlets and restaurants. Places that are open at night.  So if I am offered a job with night hours, I will need to take it.

-Dad wants to give me access to the car while it’s for sale – but I don’t want it.

-Just putting gas in it is a strain. Going back and forth to dad’s everyday, the thing takes at least 60 bucks a week. He’s given me some (money) but I’ve also put my money it too – money I can’t really spare.

Last time I had too little gas to get over there, it was by the Grace of God that I had a cat to take care of every other day this month. $100 of it went to B for my phone but I was also able to get gas for the car.

I have a dog twice a week, and most of that goes in my checking acct – which I have about $40 in right now.

-I have a student loan that has to be pd at end of every month ‘coz it’s gov’t. My credit card debt is in collections and one of them has a lawyer calling me.

-I’m gonna do this sign delivery but in the meantime continue to look or a day job. And I can’t cancel anymore interviews.

With this car, I’ve made choices between gas and socks, choosing gas to get to dad’s even though I have holes in most of my socks.

I gotta hustle and make finding a job a full time thing.*

This is just sad as fuck. Here I am writing out a script to explain my financial situation to a family who gives no fucks about me. Who was not talking about their own financial situations in such depth. This shows me how much pressure I was feeling and that I felt the need to defend myself, EXPLAIN myself, when all I needed to say, NO, I am not able to do this and I owe you no explanations for anything. Period.

I also want to add though that I was not really into finding a job. I’d been doing a bit of pet sitting, as I mention above. And I was in an on-call situation with a friend who needed a driver to deliver to deliver signs once in a while in the evenings.

At first I would leave my father’s in time to make the delivery but then one day my brother called me in a panic and a rage “needing to know if I could be there every single night until dad went to bed.”  When I hesitated to think about what he was essentially demanding of me, he screamed, “I NEED TO KNOW!”

My freeze response kicked in and then the fawning.

I quit the job. I told the man that I could not be sure about being able to make deliveries on a last minute basis because “I needed to be there for my father.” 

This sounds reasonable when it’s stands alone, because of the unknowns of the job, not knowing when I’d be needed, waiting around to get a call to work.  And on top of that the circumstances with my sick father and his needs.

But I needed that income. In addition, my brother had raged and bullied me into compliance. I stood next to him at the sink later that day, as I did the dishes he’d made earlier at my father’s and told him I quit the delivery job so I could be there for dad. 

“Oh good,” he said calmly.

I was expected to sacrifice myself, my time and my income, but my siblings had the freedom to utilize their jobs and family lives to not be available to be there at certain times.  This was just one example of the double standard.

This also shows the fog I was in, to me. Probably not to anyone else reading, in the detail I see it in. But the dynamic with B and me.  Why would I not ask him for money for gas? I know at the time, I had a phone I was struggling to make payments to him for, so there was that.  But he knew what I was dealing with. Why would he not offer to soften the blow?  And refusing to say anything to our landlady…his sister about the rotting ceiling?!? There’s just no way I’d accept that now.  I was avoiding the financial issues we were having as well, and I didn’t want to strain him more than he already was.  I was also being stubborn about asking B for gas money feeling that my family should’ve been ‘stepping up’ with gas money for me since they expected so much and were beating me down to nothing.


*The last statement, I admit, was a bit of my own attempt at some manipulation. I didn’t really plan to make job hunting a full time thing. In my defense though, I was going through a kind of shock regarding what was going on with my family. My father, who was abusive as well as someone I had a conflicting relationship with, was dying, in addition to me being tossed around like a door mat by the rest of my family resulted in this shock and other effects of trauma.

Stepping Up to be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 4

5 nites for dinner – not 7.
I need Fridays for sure and Sundays too (or another day, which can be flexible.)

This was what I agreed to when I called my mother back to discuss further about my decision about helping out with my sick and dying father. (If this sounds cold and like something you respond to like, “well what’s to negotiate?” You are either a troll or new here.)

I had therapy back then on Fridays. There was no way I was going to come out of therapy and go to my father’s, right into the very situation I was in therapy for. She was a shitty therapist btw. Seemed to be my advocate one moment and then take my sister’s side the next. She didn’t understand the trauma or my freeze response. She kept telling me, “I’m trying to get you to come out from under the table and stand up for yourself.”

Fuck bitch! If I could do that I would not have the need to sit my ass on your couch. Get a fucking grip. Lied to me about DBT,  she never even addressed such a thing. She was clueless.

My mother and I made this agreement. It also included Sundays. We agreed to Sundays, not another day.
She served as the go-between and took this info back to my siblings, who also agreed this was fair. (My mother being the go-between called me back after speaking to them. Fuck, I’m eye rolling as I write this pathetic shit.)

Within the agreement, my mother said that she’d fill in and go to my father’s if no one else could be there. Sounds reasonable doesn’t it?

Not long after the agreement was made, my sister pushed through texting me to go over on a Sunday for lunch.
I refused.

I had been at my father’s on that Saturday. My sister asked me to go for breakfast. She acted all sorry and like she felt bad for asking. She said, It’s just for breakfast and the HHA will be there at noon and you can cut out then.

I went to my father’s around 8 am and he was still sleeping. I made breakfast anyway (eggs and cheese) because I was hungry too, and waited for him to get up.

When he got up I told him I cooked eggs and he sneered at the idea and said, “No, I don’t want eggs.” He had some yogurt instead and told me that he didn’t need anyone there for breakfast. He didn’t want eggs and was quite happy to simply get up and get himself some yogurt.

At this point, my father was still able to walk OK and able to get around on his own. (Just a side note there, because with this self serve, ungrateful, I’ll just eat yogurt information, I didn’t really need to be there.)

When the HHA finally fucking got there, she had no car and was supposed to go to the grocery store for my father that day. So guess who got stuck with that task. Already reaching a stress breaking point, I was expected to run that errand. I did it though.

When I got back, my father apparently thought he was seeing grocery bags that indicated that I’d gone to the ‘wrong’ grocery store. I hadn’t.  His cousin was sitting at the table with him though so he held his tongue. When I got closer though with the bags, I also saw the expression of relief wash over his face as well.

I put the groceries away, greeted my second cousin, spoke to the HHA about getting to the drug store to pick up some RXs of my father’s because I wasn’t about to do that too after a Saturday grocery store errand and the pharmacy being in the opposite direction of the grocery store. The HHA informed me her husband would run her up there when he picked her up. It would put her over her time but fuck it.

I finally left to go visit the cat I needed to fee for some people who were away on vacation. After I tended to the cat, I sat down and called my sister to let her know about the chaos, what my father had said about breakfast and that HHA had no car.

She then mentioned that someone needed to go the next day to take care of lunch for him. I was adamant about not going. I was not shy about this and said, “After this stressful day, I am not going anywhere near that apartment.”

Under her breath she let me know that she wasn’t going either.

Later that evening it was as if the conversation never took place. She sent me a text asking me to go for lunch next day…SUNDAY!

You can more of the story and detail in this post. There is no point in re-typing it all here.

Stepping Up to be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 2

Is (sister) still planning to help with meals at all?

So during the phone conversation with my sister I’ve referred to in the last two posts (linked below), I think this may have been something that she said she was willing to do. Help with meals sometimes. 

This part, her own stipulations are not what bother me. People have lives. I was open to civil conversations and the others doing what they could on their terms, life allowing, etc. Exceptions exist obviously where something happens and you drop everything to run to someone’s side. But I’m just talking about being in the space of working logistics out when it comes to the difficulty of the situation at hand that I’m writing about here, my father being terminally ill.

When my mother called me to basically shame me, she pointed out that I wasn’t working and that the other two were indeed working and that my sister also had the kids to ‘deal with.’  So since that came up, I’m sure that formed a question in my mind.

My sister didn’t work full time, but her younger child was in kindergarten, so was only in school for half a day. And the policy of the school was that an approved adult had to meet the kids as they got off the bus. So she had to be there for all of that.

The problem here is that my sister went behind my back after we had what i was fooled into believing a civil conversation. I was also led to believe that we would be talking again to each other about it. In fact she’d said that she’d call me when she thought more about what we could do.

But the next call I got was from my mother, indicating quite clearly that she was taking the reins in working things out.

(I want to stop and make a quick note here, that as I write this stuff out and think more about the circumstances and order of events, I am remembering more as I go.)

So that’s where the question came from I guess. It was just me wanting to know what was going to go on and where my sister was going to fit into it and what she was planning to do. Wanting to be in the loop.

So why didn’t I just call my sister and ask her what the fuck?  I can’t really answer that. The thing that comes to mind right now is “freeze response.”

My mother’s call was a clear indication of my sister’s irritation with me, although she hadn’t given that away to me when we talked. I was likely to afraid to attempt any sort of conversation or to call her out because in the past she had turned my honest attempts at resolve into finger pointing and blaming. 

She actually did exactly that in a later phone call with her. It was a Jeckyll and Hyde situation.

“…my sister’s irritation with me.” I know that sounds pathetic. I was in a really vulnerable state. About a year before I had sent an email to my father in anger after a break up. In it I brought up specific incident of abuse he’d put me through. The email was sent to my siblings and my mother too. I felt like this was held over my head. I was still feeling shame and guilt about it. During the series of these phone calls it was indeed brought up and used to shame me again.

Yes, it’s all frustrating to read. From here I can see the manipulation and the mind fucks. From where I was at the time I felt like a bad person.

Links to other parts of the series:
The Intro
Part 1

Stepping Up to Be Disgraced and Shamed: Part 1

Here’s a link to the intro of this series in case you come across this first. Start there if you haven’t.

Is the plan to bring home helpers in for lunch every day?
This is the first question I wrote down to ask my mother after having been shamed into “stepping up” to care for my terminally ill father. I had a lot of questions. Little did I know consciously that I was being set up for some serious abuse. It’s still hard to write that and accept that. But I think a big part of writing this out is to not just work through it, and feel the difficult emotions associated with what happened. But also to radically accept this shit.  I still can find myself giving passes to the so called family members when they don’t deserve one.

Just this morning, before sitting down to get through this I was thinking about their behavior, the way they all gave the same ultimatum, the way the shamed me, the way they placed blame on me and how I was judged for not jumping into caring for my father without hesitation. How they manipulated because to get me to ‘step up’ would make things easier for them.

Really seeing that, understanding that, is a huge kick in the gut.  I feeling sick but I also feel grateful that I never gave into the manipulations and guilt trips my mother sent me in the form of emails and birthday cards.

As a result of my apprehension to just jumping right in, I was regarded as selfish and accused of “making it all about me.” But in reality my mother and sister wanted to make sure that someone was there to cover the needed ‘blank spaces.’

The blank spaces are the times of day and night when my brother wouldn’t be around. He’d been spending much of his time there but left every day to go to work at 3 pm.

I think now that my sister also wanted to spend as little time there as possible, and my mother being divorced from my father had better things to do than stay by my father’s side while he was dying.

So who was selfish again?

As far as it “being about me” I want to say something about that.

When you have an abusive family and they are telling you it’s your duty to step up for a dying father that abused you from childhood, then you do need to think about yourself.  In my case though, it wasn’t even so much my father that I feared being around. I knew my brother and sister were very unstable emotionally under stress and they were who I actually feared. I feared for my own emotional, mental and physical safety knowing I would be in their presence  and in contact with them on an everyday basis during this period of time.

Even in a healthy family though, it is not just about the sick and dying person. It is about the surrounding loved ones too.Sure the dynamic will be different. It is likely that many of the family members won’t be so reluctant to help. But at the same time it will be easier to work it out among themselves as far as who will be around when to tend to the needs of the dying person.  Many families also have home health aid help and this is not a  problem. The family members visit on their own terms, they are not coerced and manipulated to be there. They show up out of love.

If my father had cared about us in the situation, rather than being the narcissistic til the end, he would’ve accepted more home health aid help knowing full well we had lives of our own. He would’ve let it be up to us how much we were there. He would have allowed us to show up when we could, because we wanted to, not because we had to follow some penciled in schedule on a calendar, to make sure he was fed, safe and clean.  

My mother and siblings used the fact that I wasn’t working as an arguing point about how I SHOULD step up. After all, I had nothing but free time on my hands in their minds.

So back to the question.

I think it illustrates that I wanted to know more detail about what I was get into and I was not clear on exactly what the set up or plan was.

I think I was also referring back to part of the conversation I’d had with my sister when she’d talked about getting my brother to stop being at my father’s so much. And that her thought process was that if brother wasn’t there so much then father would not expect her or me to be there so much.

The fucked part of this does not escape me now though. So fucking what, how much time brother wanted to be there. If he wanted to go let him. But the amount of time he was there, didn’t have to dictate how much my sister or I was there. My brother’s behavior did not have to be controlled by someone else. Our decisions could have been completely separate. But it seemed that the mindset was that if brother was there from early morning til late afternoon, then another family should be the relief. 

My brother was there even when the HHA was there too a lot of the time.

I was also genuinely wanting to know how much time the HHA was going to be there, probably because I figured I’d be picking up where she was leaving off.

The home helper was there a couple times a week and that was it. More about her will be brought up later in this series.

Side note and a little insight after letting this sit here before posting:
After getting through this I am noticing how seriously sad I feel. The depression is also deep. The kind that leaves me feeling lonely, dark and even afraid.

I have a theory about why the intense difficult emotions last or keep coming up over and over again. It’s because I want them to see how insane it all is. I want them to see it from my perspective and understand what their behavior actually was.

How ridiculous is it that they blamed me, abused me, bullied me, manipulated me, gas lighted me, triangulated against me and intimidated me but then expect me to be part of the family like this never took place, never to acknowledge let alone apologize for what they did.

And not that a quick and simple apology is by any means the answer. Fact is the damage is done. But an awareness from them would be validating. It could also present a possibility toward reconciliation. But they’re either clueless and feel they are absolutely right in what they did or they don’t care. 

So basically what I’m saying is that my ability to move on and forward, to let go of the depression, sadness, anger, self-isolation, depends on whether they finally see how fucked up they are.

And so that gives my power away. That leaves them still in charge of what I do and how I feel. Not a good place to be. But it makes sense as to how and why I’ve gotten stuck.

That being said, there is still a need I feel to get through all of this. I have a tendency to forget how destabilizing it all really was. Seeing what I’d written at the time I was going through it helps to bring back to the reality of the situation and reinforce my very sane and correct decision to stay away from them.

“Stepping Up” to Be Disgraced and Shamed: The Intro

So I’ve been chipping through some hand written journaling to post here. It’s a slow process.  There are about 8 pages, sitting to the left of me right now, half of which I’ve transcribed and have sitting in a draft post.

I have been struggling to write commentary because I’m not sure of the time line of when I wrote those things. It looks like it was at the beginning of the chaos and confusion. But I also remember some of those things coming up in the midst and then some may have been ongoing, until I finally just gave up and accepted my assumed role.

I think it was actually at the point when I found myself feeling the need to defend myself, just before jumping in to please everyone, because the (what I thought were) friendly conversations about the situation, turned into attacks from each corner of a triangle. My brother, mother and sister.

What I’d done is write down a bunch of points I wanted to cover and talk about to someone, most likely my mother, as I addressed both my brother and sister in the third person in my “script.”

There is one telling thing that pretty much gives away the approximate time line and that I was writing these points out to confront my mother. This had to do with my availability through each week that I’d planned to present to her. It had to have been after the initial call I’d gotten from her. The one where she’d guilted and shamed me about my reluctance to “step up.”  The one where she threw an ultimatum at me to “step up” or walk away. The one where she blatantly let me know that it was my responsibility because he was my father. The one where she was clear on how she was exempt from any real responsibility because she wasn’t married to him anymore.  The one where by the end of the call, I was agreeing to think about my availability and when I could be there with my father.

She’d blind-sided me as well because I could tell by what my mother had said, that my sister had likely called to complain that I was not “complying.”

There were plenty of indications from what my mother said to me when she called. I also know enough now about how my sister and mother triangulated against me. I understand much more about that type of manipulation now than I did then. In addition, there was a past incident of my sister and mother triangulating against me, that helped me piece it together, after I’d come out of the fog of so much gas-lighting throughout the period that followed.

Thing is during the phone conversation with my sister, we both talked about how we didn’t want to be nurse to our father full time. My sister told me that she wanted to get my brother to back off a little* from spending so much time over there and needed me on board with that**, so that our father would be more open to the idea of getting home health aids to help him out.

My sister and I hung the fuck up in agreement. She was even the one to repeat the whole premise before ending the conversation. “So neither one of us is available full time to take care of dad.”

And the next thing I know, I’m getting a phone call from my mother shaming me for not being willing to “step up” to care for my father.

I was so busy defending myself, while also feeling that guilt and shame she was dumping on me, that I didn’t even think about that conversation with my sister.

My mother gave me the ultimatum during that conversation with her, to either “step up” or walk away.

My brother had already given me the same sort of shame spiel about a week before I got it from my mother and in that phone call with him, he also gave me that ultimatum. His came across a bit friendlier though although such an ultimatum is not friendly at all. However, there was no pressure to actually “step up” from him. Well, unless you consider the ultimatum being pressure and it was. But I don’t know, he was letting go, letting me decide, at least at that point. He wasn’t always so passive and has rage issues that he demonstrated on me. But this particular thing, in the beginning, he just waited. My mother and sister were hell bent on twisting me in nasty ways to their wishes.

Later, I had an additional “conversation” with my sister again and she was all over my shit for not “stepping up” and handing out more guilt and shame. Speaking at me with a condescending tone and telling me all about how awful my character is.

I’ve gotten into the detail of that conversation before on this blog, so I’ll spare you (and me) the repeat.

This is pretty much an intro to the next 8 or so written pages I want to transcribe and add some commentary to.

The plan is to write out each point as its own post and add commentary to each one. I think each post will have the same name and broken down into parts.

I’ll see how it goes. I only know that with starting to type it all out, one post was too much. Too long.
This is also therapy, so bear with me. It might take a bit to get it all out. The plan is to get it out quickly, but we all know what happens when we’re making plans. I also have other things I want to do and other things that I need to do that are not blog related. So it will likely take some time.

I know I tend to ramble, but that’s because there seems to be so much to all of this. One piece leads to the next. And there are layers to it.  I just don’t know how to organize it all when I write it out.  Although I’ve told parts of this before, some things have come up that I’d forgotten about. I certainly forgot about writing these points to present to my mother, like some script I needed so that I could stand up for myself to a point. So that I wouldn’t forget anything.

The reality is that I was explaining…over-explaining myself to try to make others understand that I am not such a bad person, just because I was reluctant to ‘step up’ and care for my father on all their terms.

I shake my head and even cringe with disbelief in writing and then reading some of this, particularly the total 180 turn around, from agreement from my sister to being beaten down and treated like dirt. Cornered, essentially.

Anyway, stay tuned…to be continued.

*Notice the control type language there. She wanted to “get my brother” to do something, to be a certain way, to behave in a way that she wanted him to.

**She also “needed me on board.” Triangulating language.  Her main choice of manipulation it seems.

Edit: I’ve decided to make a a whole different category for these pages I’m transcribing called Series: Stepping Up to be Abused.” I started to include links at the end of each post, to lead back to the previous posts. I’ll leave the ones I already have up but I won’t continue with that. It’s too much work. Instead, it’s just as easy to refer to the category in the sidebar.