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Sense of normal

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I've been NC with my mother since December of 2006.

My two aunts (her sisters) have been fighting over the care of my grandmother,

it all comes down to money. Both of them have been carrying tales to me, and

I've been very uninvolved. Simply an " ear " , but i have been seeing " the "

behavior and was getting concerned.

Well, the one aunt, whom I've been supportive of, and talking to about how to

handle her other sister for the last several years (whom I believed may also

have BPD, as my mother has it) has now brought my mother into the whole messy

affair. I wondered why there has been little contact with her for the last 6 or

8 months now.

My mother of course is talking about how I am the one with the personality

disorder and is the " nut job " . Apparently she sent my other aunt a letter

talking trash about me (I haven't seen her in 5 years so I am guessing where she

got her information, otherwise she would have no " fodder " for the trash talk).

All of this came out on Christmas day, when my other aunt called me to tell me

what was going on. She has been relatively quiet for the last several years

about all of it. We'd talk, but she wouldn't be trash talking her sister like

the other aunt would to her.

I'm on the other side of the country, so I have no idea what really is

happening. I see several people fighting over my not dead yet grandmothers

estate.

I'm disgusted with all of them, and as usual being painted as the crazy one.

It really makes me wonder about my sense of normal. I feel surrounded by crazy.

The only sense of normalcy that I have is *my* own little family, my husband and

kids. His family is fairly normal. I have fairly normal friendships, except that

I have a hard time knowing how to be a friend. Bah.

I wonder about cutting off all contact with that whole side of the family. I

feel gross, feel violated. This is how I used to feel as a child on a constant

basis. Like I need to defend myself. Not to mention that I am disgusted at their

greed at the expense of my grandmother. I've never been close to her, so while I

have no connection to her in that way, I still feel sad for her.

I'm so bloody sick of this.

Sometimes I really do feel like the crazy one.

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(Shaking head in agreement). It would be so much easier if: 1) we didn't care

what happened to these people (i.e. detach), or 2) were just the crazy one after

all. (((hugs)))

>

> I'm so bloody sick of this.

>

> Sometimes I really do feel like the crazy one.

>

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