Saving Daddy's Soulmate

My Journey of Forgiveness

There’s A Gator Lurking

on September 2, 2013

img_0184_0001We saw the signs.  We heard the fights, the slamming doors, the idle threats that he was going to leave.  It scared Sissy and me.  There weren’t a lot of fights, but when there were, they were doozies.  He always held the upper hand in them and he knew it.  He was a master predator and knew how to twist situations and words. 
To her credit though, Mom learned from him. One of his favorite lines was, “who died and left you boss?” Apparently she’s taken it to heart and decided to use it, although when I think back honestly, she’s been doing this for a long time. Let me explain.
So 2 days ago, she ‘can’t help herself’ and she insults me by saying she wished I took better care of myself because I look haggard and I need to exercise. Perhaps a haircut would brighten my face and I’m too blonde these days. It washes me out. And why don’t I get some pretty clothes…there are sales going on you know, it’s Labor Day. If I wanted to drive up to see her (45 minutes away from me) she would treat me to get something that fit right and looked good.
I tell her thank you, but the traffic is horrific. I have a hair appointment next week and I started walking so thanks for her concern. I quickly tell her that the doorbell is ringing so I have to run. Hope she has a great day and I hang up.
My day goes by quickly, I am a wife/mom and it’s a holiday weekend filled with lots to do. So I don’t call her for the afternoon call, but sometimes I don’t because there’s a lot going on. She’s always said she understood. By the way, she NEVER calls me unless it’s an emergency. I am the one who has to call her every morning to make sure that she’s made it through the night alone. I am the caretaker.
So yesterday I call on my way to the store. Granted it’s an hour later than the normal 9am, but hey, I do have a life here and quite frankly I don’t need any more hassle from her. I’m a bit peeved from yesterday.
She immediately starts in with she didn’t mean to insult me. She’s been up all night worrying that I am mad at her. She begins to cry, feeling sorry for herself. She doesn’t want me to be mad at her but she just wants what’s best for me. She doesn’t mean to be a burden. She is so dumb. She says I don’t take care of myself. She says she’s afraid of losing me. She continues to cry.
Yes. She’s learned from him. Perfectly.
You see, if I agree that she was mean, she will spiral into a depression and cry for days. And guess who (ME) will have to drag her out of it, I will have to go see her, coddle her and deal with the aggravation in person. I will have to lie and tell her I knew she was only looking out for me, that she only wants the best for me and that her cutting mean words were not meant to hurt, only to help. I will have to handle her with kid gloves. Stroke her sensitive soul until she feels fine again because her mind is twisted. She gets ahold of one thing that is said to her and she can’t let it go. And in the process, she twists it so she is the martyr and the victim.
I don’t have the patience to play this game so I quickly tell her that she didn’t insult me, that I’m not mad, but that I’ve been busy. I conclude with promises of seeing her next week which she tries to pin down, but with the onslaught of school, I am vague.
Coddled and her twisted mind released from her supposed guilt in insulting me to the point that I’m mad, she gaily goes on her way with a minimum of tears and I am left, as always, holding onto the shit.
Ah, but not only did he die and leave her the brass baton, but he’s left it to my inlaws as well. Now they’re judgemental as well and MIL (mother in law) has the idea that she can also say whatever she wants to me without reprocussions. And yet, if those things were said to her, there’d be hell here on earth in a milisecond. She’s the type that glides her finger across the livingroom table to see if there’s dust. They are also famous for ‘stopping by’ unannounced and instead of ringing the front door bell like normal people, regardless of whether there’s a car in the driveway or not, they come around back to knock on the backdoor which is glass so there is no way to pretend I’m not at home. They park in the driveway like they pay the mortgage which they do not so that if I am out and arrive when they are skulking around the back of the house, I have to unload the groceries from my car from the street instead of my driveway.
I know it’s petty, but I feel like I have a BASH ME sticker on my forehead which I am not liking.
It’s like the gators are lurking, going in for the kill of my spirit. But you know what I know, they would be sorry that their puppet were dead because I do everything for them all. I wish they’d just leave me alone. They say they love me. I’ve heard that before…you hurt the ones you love the most. That’s what Dad always told me.


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