my most recent conversation with nada..

[Guest guest]

I seem to have made a miniature breakthrough with my nada. Well, it feels big,

and it is likely a breakthrough with my self.

And while laughter used to be a defense in my conversations, I may no longer

need it to protect me. I can protect myself, without alerting the enemy. Because

I am taking my time, breathing and listening and not dashing in too quickly to

fight off my nada.

There is a book I have been reading that I can share the title, if any are

interested. What has helped me with this book, is that I am no longer seeing

nada so black and white. She is not " wrong " anymore, and I am no longer " right " .

Please don't get ready to barf and think I'm being polly-anna. It is just like

this: I am seeing things from her point of view more, while staying more true to

myself.

The book is about button-pushers. (The doctor's definition of a button-pusher is

a darn good fit for a nada/fada. The good doctor describes many of the cases,

which admittedly are not as " bad " as our nadas/fadas, but many of the same tools

in dealing with them seem to apply.)

I learned some simple principles in the book that helped me in that call. For

one, the doctor pointed out that ANY criticism of a button-pusher will

backfire. So the basic message is that you give no feedback that can be taken

personally. I found this way of communication, made me more honest and firm,

but more humble about my truth. Because of lowered expectations? Maybe.

I always thought I should be direct with my nada and tell her my truth. But that

becomes an argument. An argument also is taken poorly by a button pusher.

Anything we tell a button-pusher that a normal person would listen to and

consider carefully and respond to reasonably, feels to a button-pusher like an

attack.

Wow, when I read this book carefully, I realized that I needed to be neutral but

uncompromisingly honest with my nada. Big big realization. Tough work, right?

I tried it out the last time she called, which was as I was getting my son to

his baseball practice. I had a hard time staying neutral when she called me, to

question me about my memory loss, and were my psychiatric medications to blame?

Huh? It wasn't about memory loss (but honestly I could not recall what she was

referring to!) But I knew exactly what that question was REALLY about. It was

the usual, " something is the matter with Vicki, and it is her fault. I am going

to get her to listen to me and confess. "

Had I had deflected some criticism a few conversations ago, by telling her the

event was long forgotten? Now she was calling me on it. And I had forgotten

what the forgotten even was, but wanted to avoid the old double-bind of

admitting that... So... I said, " Uh-oh, I must have Alzheimers " and tried to

joke around Then I got more serious and direct.... " you need to tell me what the

context of your question is..... " Her response? " Oh, why don't you get off your

high horse! I don't know why you insist on being called , you are just

Vicki to me. "

Well, my book had made it really clear that speaking back would only end up

giving my button pusher evidence against me.... so I was non-plussed. What to do

now? Well, I got frustrated with her and had to get back onfocus with my son

and husband so I hung up the phone. WTF? My name isn't .. Grrr..

Still, hanging up on her in general bugs me, I am not sure why. When my son had

left, I called my mom back again, but then I really got angry at her. Did not

show it. And again I cannot recall why I got mad. Must be those medications

after all, responsible for my memory loss. LOL.

No I think I'd told my mom I did not like being interrogated (mistake), and

before she had the chance to get defensive, I said assertively, " Mom you raised

me to be aware of things like interrogation, and you made it clear to me that I

should not allow anyone to interrogate ME, and now you want to get me to unlearn

that lesson with YOU? How come? " And then a bunch of crap I did not want to

handle made me decide to hang up.

But for a SECOND time, I called back because I know I am capable to end a

conversation without diplomacy.. and I know that anger and a hot argument just

mean I am one-down the next time she calls.

So, when I called back, I apologized and said, " Hey I really want to listen to

you, so let's try again. Let me see if I can stick with it this time, OK? Just

be aware that, just like you, I am going to speak up if I feel something is

being said about me that is not true. "

I kept her on speaker phone this time, because I NEED safety and the feeling

that she is not in my head. Good things: I got to tell her about the history of

my being called by my real name, not a nick-name. I got to ask my mom simple,

friendly worded questions like, " How comes you gave me a beautiful name like

, if you didn't want to be called by that name? " All of this kindness

was genuine, I felt it, so maybe that is why it worked. I treated my mom the way

I want to be treated, and while I called a lot of her cards, somehow I did so so

without using any criticism. I want to remember details, but it has been a bit

too long ago!

Some of the conversation is indelible. My nada (again) brought up my sexual life

in my college years, and she had the audacity to allude to how lucky I was that

I did not end up with diseases, death, and prostitution in my history. I find

that kind of talk to be really disgusting, and normally my back talk goes the

the route of justified anger. That never gets me forward, only back into

suffering with nada getting my goat. And in fact, back talk seems to just

remind nada that I REALLY am still a teenager, or a child.

Instead, went a totally different direction than she expected. I went ahead and

stood on my track record, instead of letting her " what if " me into the Stone

Age. I said, with confidence, without a trace of defensiveness... but with a

quiet, slow firm, voice, " Mom. would never have become a prostitute.

That is not a choice I would have made for her. " And then, I posed this

question. " Do you talk to my brother like this? "

Of course, there was a bunch of junk said. Like it was none of my business, and

to stop bringing my brother into the conversation..

So I got firm and warrior-like on my behalf, but without a bit of anger. " Mom,

you raised me to be a strong woman, and you raised me to stand up for myself.

You did not raise me to be at the short end of a stick against a man, even my

brother. So why are you doing this to me now? "

There was blah blah blah at the other end. And my mom went back to my sexual

inventory.

Again, I could have gotten frustrated or given up entirely. Or I could have

gotten cutting and mean. Normally when I feel her crazy making on me, I act

crazy. This time, I made sure nothing I said went in that direction. I poured

cold pure water on it, and used it as a chance to nurture ME. " Mom, that part of

my life, is something I have worked on, getting right with God... and I have

forgiveness. God does not go over the past, once it is forgiven. " (It took

everything in me to NOT go to my defenses and whack her with, " You aren't God

are you? Then this is none of your business. " Or " When did God die and leave

you in charge? " )

Instead, I spoke my peace, with Love. (Love for ME, first) I was my own advocate

and I spoke with authority, and to please myself and be kind to me, by not

getting me in the line of HER normal fire.

But like a Sherman tank, she was determined. She revved up her motor, convinced

she could get on the track again. But suddenly, I was wide awake, like someone

had stopped the film and done replay. I could see all she had to hold over me

was the past, as in OVER 20 years ago. So I just asked, " Mom, is it only things

from the past that you have to share when you talk about me? "

She was very quiet, and then said, " It is in the past... but.... "

Next she came to tell me, that her concern was that I be sure to NOT teach my

eleven year old son these misplaced values that she did not agree with and that

could have gotten me into prostitution, death, disease. It's a dangerous world

out there..... Vick... toria. You should know that.

I just don't like to take any advice from my nada, especially when it feels

WEIRD and INAPPROPRIATE. I did not use those words out loud, my knowing them

was enough. Instead, I kept up my gentle assertiveness. I remembered a

disarming technique my son uses, that I respect for its graciousness. I hoped

it would turn my nada just an inch to see my viewpoint, without demanding,

demeaning or pleading. I said, " Mom, if this were me, talking like this to

you... you would also feel insulted. "

Of course, she tried to move ahead on her agenda, which was STILL to " play

parent " and claim her right to give unsolicited advice. " You insisted on

shacking up..... and ....(what, that gives YOU the right to put my nose in it

like a puppy that has peed on the floor? I did almost gnash my teeth.)

I was feeling like I wanted to give up and go back to reading my book.... I put

the lowest possible energy into maneuvering our interaction on an even plane,

where it belonged. So I said, " Mom, we all make mistakes. You've made yours as

well.. "

Would it help her to see just how out of line she was being? How inappropriate?

Nope, for she started to rebut.. " But I never shacked up .... and slept

around... "

NOW, again the film seemed uncannily familiar, like a replay in slow motion...I

saw very clearly that her interest in zeroing in on me was all about her wanting

to keep the focus OFF HERSELF. She felt guilty, but was not going to admit it?

In truth, her past and continued sins against me that she justifies with her

attacks on my character...are more egregious than anything I could possibly DO

to her today. Suddenly I saw that I was exactly the person I was trying so hard

to be. And it blew my mind.

That is where I interrupted, knowing that she just wanted to be righteous and

did not care about a happy relationship. Did not care to see me as whole and

good as I AM TODAY.

I felt it in my heart that I had forgiven my mom for what she had done to me in

the past, a long time ago. So I said, " Mom, I have forgiven you for things that

were done in the past ( I was suddenly very aware that the only way I could

demonstrate this was to not detail her abuse, or call it as such).... "

I said quietly, knowing this was my last bit of ammunition.... " I don't really

want to bring up any of your wrongdoings again, but if you insist on bringing up

my past, I can remind you of them if you want to do that.... "

Amazingly, I don't recall what she said to this, but whatever it was, I knew

that I was already done. She was going to call my bluff if I did not end the

conversation right away. My last straw and it felt lame, was to say, gently but

with finality. " I am not going to let you do damage to our relationship. We can

talk again another time. "

Actually I had had enough (but I was not angry, YES, a great accomplishment for

me)... and we hung up with her sounding peevish, but both of us agreeing to

hang up, gently, together.

I was scared when I hung up the phone, because I had never felt so much in

charge of myself, nor seen real power did not have to carry threats or fangs. I

did not feel a sense of distaste, just neutrality. I also had never seen so

clearly how much my mom wants to illegitimize my authority by not letting go of

the past. Long ago past, and recent past.

In regards to recent past, nada would continue to make me illegitimate because I

was in a psych unit six and seven years ago. That also makes me someone to be

ashamed of. And so she tries to blame me for HER shame. But I feel no shame for

the psychiatric experience. I actually feel pride that I have demonstrated to

professionals, who wanted to have me stay on unnecessary medications, that I can

get well.

It has been almost two weeks since this call, and I feel an incredible sense of

peace. It may be that I have reached a tipping point in myself, from which I

cannot return.

I doubt very much my mom is going to think of me as Vicky any more, but if she

does, I think I have gotten past the point where it much matters. I am becoming

my own .

Best,