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My father died, and I am afraid of the funeral.

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Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something really

awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and take

her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys understand.

I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all day.

When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE home. "

I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I told

him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong that

for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I scanned

the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting for me

to command me to talk to my mother.

Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but it

was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person so I

went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a lot

because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my spouse,

and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new surroundings. NOT

MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from her

was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate, I

have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I

was 30.

So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

Deanna

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(((((Deanna)))))

I'm so sorry you lost your father; my condolences. I can hear that you loved

him very much, and that underneath it all he loved you. And I can totally

understand why you are afraid of going to his funeral.

In my opinion you HAVE shown your love and respect for your father when he was

alive. You are under NO obligation to attend his funeral if you feel it would

be harmful to your health due to your hostile mother and aunts and brother who

will probably use this opportunity to verbally attack you and rip you to shreds

emotionally.

For this reason I would not judge you to be a bad person or a bad daughter if

you chose not to attend the viewing/memorial service/burial.

Here is a possible alternative: You could go a day or so after the service and

burial and just spend some quiet time alone at your father's gravesite. Bring

flowers or read a favorite passage of yours or his, and spend the time thinking

about him and his life. Maybe that can help you say your final goodbyes and

give you closure but without risking an emotionally scarring, vitriolic attack

by your very hostile mother, brother and aunts.

But you must decide what you need to do, yourself. Its about what you can or

can't tolerate and live with.

If you decide that you do need to attend, then I suggest that if at all

possible:

1. get a good friend to come with you and to stick by your side for support and

to drive,

2. get a short-term prescription of tranquilizers and use them

3. stay as short a time as possible; stay in a hotel if its not a day trip, not

at anyone's home

4. avoid speaking with your foo or letting them get you alone as much as is

possible, and

5. when you must speak with any of them, employ " Medium Chill " techniques.

I hope that helps.

-Annie

>

> Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

>

> I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

>

> My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

>

> It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

>

> One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

>

> When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

>

> When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

>

> Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

>

> I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

>

> When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

>

> My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

>

> A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

>

> Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

>

> Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

>

> My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

>

> I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

>

> But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

>

> Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

>

> So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

>

> But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate,

I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I

was 30.

>

> So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

>

> Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

>

> Deanna

>

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(((Deanna))) I'm so sorry for your loss.

Let me just say that it doesn't make you a coward for not wanting to talk to

your mother; it makes you smart. You know that already, but sometimes it helps

just to hear it from someone else. You did the right thing to hang up the phone.

I have a friend whose father is terminally ill. Her FOO is dysfunctional, and

she was concerned about whether she should plan to go to his funeral services

when the time comes. She doesn't want to deal with the drama of her (I think

BPD) mother, she doesn't want to see the uncle who molested her as a child, she

doesn't want to spend the money to make another trip to her home state while in

the midst of a move, etc. But the FOG was gnawing at her a little bit.

Thankfully another friend had the sense to tell her: " You can pray for your dad

and say goodbye to him right here where you live. You made a trip to see your

dad this year for the sole purpose of saying goodbye to him. You got to see him

a second time when you went to your sister's wedding. There is no reason you

have to go back again and put yourself through stress you don't need when you

have already said goodbye, and when your prayers are just as good wherever you

are. " My friend said it was brilliant, but her grief wasn't letting her see that

it is okay not to go.

So I will try to say something similar to you. If you do not want to be around

your crazy mother at a time when she will be acting even crazier than usual, if

you do not want to have to deal with the stress of trying to grieve while having

to guard yourself against incoming attack, then you don't have to go. That

doesn't make you a bad daughter, it doesn't mean you didn't love your dad. It

means you know you are worth taking care of. It means you know your limits.

Anyone who cares about you will be able to respect that.

Our whole lives, we were taught that we should put our own feelings aside in

order to care for those of our dysfunctional parents. I think sometimes that

manifests itself when we try to get " good enough " at setting boundaries that we

can finally " tolerate " being around them. As if the problem is still with us,

that *if only* we were better at what we're learning in T then we could finally

be able to be around them for a little while without being bothered. But really,

their behavior *should* bother us. It's horrible! We just need to learn that

their behavior isn't our fault, that we can't change or control it, and that

it's okay not to want to be around people who act that way.

If you want to go to your dad's services, then you can. I know you can handle

yourself. But if you would rather just say goodbye to him in your own way, and

maybe make a trip to visit his gravesite separately when the rest of your FOO

won't be around, that's perfectly reasonable. Nothing says you have to be at the

funeral.

Hugs again,

Sveta

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I'm not going to my dad's and I probably won't go to my mother's either.

To be frank, f*ck funerals. It's like the final chapter of the whole charade. I

don't feel the need to put my grief on display.

You seem to want to interpret legitimate fear as a bad thing or a shortcoming of

yours. This is not a phobia you have, it's anxiety caused by a demonstrated

threat. To judge yourself because you don't adequately suppress it is just

wrong. Suppression/repression are unhealthy. Your fear is telling you stay away.

I have spent my whole life undoing damage that ignoring my fear (which was

demanded of me in childhood) has caused in my adult life, particularly with

abusive spouses or going back into unhealthy family situations. Sometimes I feel

like I am between the devil and the deep blue sea, unable to deal adequately

with coworkers leaving me dirt poor for most of my life and therefore living

with family off and on for most of my adulthood.

In my case my father has spent tons of time character assassinating me to

extended family and there is no way in hell that I am going to go listen to the

'he is such a great person' schlock, and have people looking at me and making

accusatory comments. I don't want to hear another word of it ever in my life.

When the time comes with nada I am sure I will feel the same way. What grief I

do have is private, and I have ZERO desire to share it with a bunch of 'family'

members who have been hearing lies about me for decades.

If you legitmately want to go it might be useful to go with friends or a big

group of supportive people. But there is nothing wrong with not going, period. I

hope you are able to stop judging yourself and your fear. Hugs!

>

> Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

>

> I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

>

> My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

>

> It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

>

> One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

>

> When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

>

> When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

>

> Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

>

> I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

>

> When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

>

> My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

>

> A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

>

> Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

>

> Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

>

> My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

>

> I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

>

> But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

>

> Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

>

> So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

>

> But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate,

I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I

was 30.

>

> So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

>

> Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

>

> Deanna

>

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My stepsister didn't go to her brother's funeral, she said she wanted to grieve

in her own way. There's nothing wrong with not going if you don't want to.Â

Janet

 Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own

understanding.

 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

 Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD, and depart from evil.

 It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones.

Proverbs 3:5-8

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Saturday, July 30, 2011 8:37 PM

Subject: Re: My father died, and I am afraid of the funeral.

Â

I'm not going to my dad's and I probably won't go to my mother's either.

To be frank, f*ck funerals. It's like the final chapter of the whole charade. I

don't feel the need to put my grief on display.

You seem to want to interpret legitimate fear as a bad thing or a shortcoming of

yours. This is not a phobia you have, it's anxiety caused by a demonstrated

threat. To judge yourself because you don't adequately suppress it is just

wrong. Suppression/repression are unhealthy. Your fear is telling you stay away.

I have spent my whole life undoing damage that ignoring my fear (which was

demanded of me in childhood) has caused in my adult life, particularly with

abusive spouses or going back into unhealthy family situations. Sometimes I feel

like I am between the devil and the deep blue sea, unable to deal adequately

with coworkers leaving me dirt poor for most of my life and therefore living

with family off and on for most of my adulthood.

In my case my father has spent tons of time character assassinating me to

extended family and there is no way in hell that I am going to go listen to the

'he is such a great person' schlock, and have people looking at me and making

accusatory comments. I don't want to hear another word of it ever in my life.

When the time comes with nada I am sure I will feel the same way. What grief I

do have is private, and I have ZERO desire to share it with a bunch of 'family'

members who have been hearing lies about me for decades.

If you legitmately want to go it might be useful to go with friends or a big

group of supportive people. But there is nothing wrong with not going, period. I

hope you are able to stop judging yourself and your fear. Hugs!

>

> Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

>

> I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

>

> My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

>

> It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

>

> One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

>

> When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

>

> When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

>

> Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made me

physically sick.

>

> I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

>

> When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person so

I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a lot

because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

>

> My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a love

I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really how he

feels even though he can't show it.

>

> A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

>

> Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

>

> Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

>

> My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

>

> I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

>

> But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing about

my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I am not

sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the guy who

sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from your tree;

you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone. Please let me off

the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop calling me every day. Or

how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my push up bra by asking me if

" those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to see for herself?

>

> Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like spitting in

the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

>

> So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

>

> But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate, I

have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I was

30.

>

> So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

>

> Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

>

> Deanna

>

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I am facing a similar situation next weekend. My grandmother has cancer and has

stopped treatment because it was no longer working. The cancer is widespread

through her body, including her chest, slowly suffocating her. My mother is the

nada, and the rest of the family are flying monkey's, but they are having an

80th birthday party for my grandfather and I want to see my grandmother before

she dies. I was going to go up the week before, but as things would have it, my

nada is moving in with my grandparents - apparently to look after them in their

declining health. A cynical part of me notes that she will be living in a house

with free rent when she doesn't own her own house. And once she's in, well

possession is 9/10ths of the law isn't it?

So I am going to the party (where there are lots of people and hopefully my nada

will behave) and I am taking a friend. Only I haven't yet told my family I am

bringing a friend. It is a day's drive as I am in another state and I am just

relieved to have someone who will be on 'my side' and to help me drive back. As

it gets closer, it terrifies me. But I really want to see my grandmother and

grandfather, it may be the last time and I was really close to them growing up.

What really hurts is that now that my grandmother is sick, she is listening to

my nada's crap and just wants to fix things - but guess who has to make the

sacrifices again to make things all better? You guessed it me. And I can't do

it, not even for her. Coz I have to live with it. So it is going to be super

hard. All you can really do is prepare as much as you can and then give yourself

the time afterwards to grieve and let out the other emotions that will no doubt

be brought up. And if things get too bad - have a plan - mine, is to simply

leave. Gee it is times like this, that I love that I live in a different state

from my family.

Jodie

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I am so sorry you lost your Dad, and that you didn't get to have enough joyous,

unfettered time with him. I do have a strategy -- first, you have to have a

clear idea of what is important for YOU in this situation. Funerals are for the

living - it will not matter to your Dad whether or when you attend his funeral,

or how you do it. Saying goodbye is for YOU. Is it important to you that you

say goodbye and visit your Dad's graveside? You can do that at ANY time, it

doesn't have to be at the funeral where Nada's Evil Army is amassed. If he's

going to be cremated, then you can come up with your own private ceremony to

tell him goodbye,and you can do that anywhere - the beach, a mountaintop,

someplace that had meaning for the two of you.

If you must go to the funeral, go with reinforcements. Take a friend or two,

explain what you're expecting, and get a commitment that the friend(s) will not

leave your side at all during the funeral.

If you decide to skip the funeral, you can expect that Nada and her minions will

use that as evidence that you didn't love your Dad. Group that with all the

other craziness and leave it behind. If there are some relatives you feel safe

with, see if you can meet with them for a second, private visit to the graveside

later - place some flowers, say what's on your mind, do what you need to do.

You do NOT have to be constrained by " expectations " that you will throw yourself

in front of Nada's bus. Do what makes you feel at peace, in your own time, and

go with support.

>

> And also does anyone have any strategies for this funeral situation?

>

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Dear Dianna, Wow, this like reading my own history with nada & fada. The

daily ranting phone calls; the barging in my home unannounced; the

demanding I apologize to nada for everything under the sun. My nada recently

passed away from Alzheimers and I've gotten in several " fights " with fada.

When

he starts to verbally abuse me or attack me, I get up and walk

out.....period. This happened recently when my little bro and his wife were

visiting, and don't you know, they think I'm horrible!!!! Well, they don't

live

with it daily and have never been the subject of nada or fada's verbal

crap or boundary breaking. So, I am suffering the consequences of being

ignored by bro & wife. That's ok. I'm the only one I have to protect; if

others don't understand, I don't have to continually explain myself to

them......I don't have to explain myself at all.....but understand, there will

be

consequences.

My heart goes out to you. I completely understand all you've said. I,

too, have to do the xanax thing before spending any time with fada.

Laurie

In a message dated 7/30/2011 3:14:36 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

vegdeanna@... writes:

Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there

and take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1

hour phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I

didn't have enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that

interesting (blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her

threatening to leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the

way one does to a spoiled child.

My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to

her nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because

he was " sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything

a disaster.

One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and

left accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how

I was obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of

the 5 messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU

DID. " I told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck

by his assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother

freaking out because I had not called her back yet.

When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and

I scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be

waiting for me to command me to talk to my mother.

Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that

I could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being

around them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really

get him alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year

after that, but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN.

Talking to her made me physically sick.

I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days

before and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake.

Without exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me

aside and tell me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of

listening to her.* He wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck

about me right? It's all about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was

too much for me to handle and if she had emotional needs she should seek out

a therapist. But I always felt shamed by him at those times.

When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her,

but it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning

person so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not

visit him a lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was

pretty demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that

got me was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy

and a love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that

is really how he feels even though he can't show it.

A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one,

the owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!)

because she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do

that, while my dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does

that but I would venture to guess that she *never* does that because that

is a lawsuit waiting to happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she

must have been.

Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away

from her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said

my father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a

crazed state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just

seeing my father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made

it there. He called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to

my mother and I said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't

make it there in time, and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the

phone, talking. (I think she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such

a coward.

But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I am

not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about

the guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit

from your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on

my push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my

breasts to see for herself?

Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but

dammit I said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of

being mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she

tortured me with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my

spirit.

But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something

inappropriate, I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel

like my

life's theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad)

sooner, set some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the

word until I was 30.

So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of

the chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my

mother and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to

take my father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and

so cowardly.

Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

Deanna

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" I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child. "

Deanna: first of all, I am so sorry for your loss. It's awful that anything or

any event our mothers are involved in becomes about them; I'm sorry this can't

just be a time of grieving for you, that on top of that, it is once again about

how your mother feels. I so know how that feels and it sucks.

When you mentioned the daily hour-long phone calls, my jaw dropped. That was my

life as well. They were more like 4 or 5 calls a day, about 20-40 minutes each,

and if I ever, EVER even hinted that I was uncomfortable, that I couldn't talk,

that my husband had to use the phone, even if I sneezed, she would get upset at

the interruption. I cannot believe I put up with so much crazy. As well, the

escalating calls if I didn't call back right away and my father's nasty,

screaming if I dared cross my mother. Same here. Reading your post made me

wonder if we were raised by the very, very same people. The prosecutorial style

of parenting, constant interrogation. Yup, me too.

" Talking to her made me physically sick. " Oh my gosh, yes. That's where I'm at

now. And my brother has taken my father's place, scolding me for crossing my

mother because now HE has to put up with her shit.

Being away from your mother must've been a relief for your father. I can only

imagine. That's amazing what the nursing home owner told you, that he never

asked for her!

" I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward. " Deanna, you responded from the fear she triggers in you. You're not a

coward. You're already dealing with your father's death and on top of that, you

know your mother is not going to be a pleasant conversation. Please don't shame

and punish yourself further. I hate seeing you do that to yourself, because I

know I would do the same thing. It's normal and natural.

" I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set some boundaries. " Me too,

me too, me too. If I could do it over, I would have done it earlier, too. But

we're doing it now. Hanging up on her was protecting yourself. YOU DID NOTHING

WRONG. You know what she was going to say. She was just going to pour on the fog

and gaslight you to put you in your place.

Deanna, is there any way you can get someone safe to accompany you to the

funeral? Someone who can put space between you and your family? You deserve to

grieve, too. And you don't need to explain yourself to her or her sisters.

They've already formed their opinions about you. I know how hurtful that can

feel. My mother's family has done that about me as well, but oh well. F*** them.

They're not relevant to who you are or your life.

I wish I could come with you and be there for you. Please know we are there

with you.

Hugs, Deanna. I am so proud of you for keeping your boundaries.

You might have to express anger as well as grief the day of your father's

funeral, and remind yourself why you were right to stay away all these years,

and why your brother and aunts have no right to shame you.

Fiona

>

> Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

>

> I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

>

> My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

>

> It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

>

> One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

>

> When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

>

> When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

>

> Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

>

> I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

>

> When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

>

> My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

>

> A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

>

> Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

>

> Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

>

> My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

>

> I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

>

> But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

>

> Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

>

> So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

>

> But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate,

I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I

was 30.

>

> So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

>

> Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

>

> Deanna

>

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i *love* Annie's idea of going to his burial site the day after the funeral.

I just think they will be awful to you if you go, Deanna. But keeping your stay

short is also a very good idea.

> >

> > Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

> >

> > I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

> >

> > My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

> >

> > It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

> >

> > One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

> >

> > When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

> >

> > When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

> >

> > Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

> >

> > I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days

before and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake.

Without exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside

and tell me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to

her.* He wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right?

It's all about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to

handle and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I

always felt shamed by him at those times.

> >

> > When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

> >

> > My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

> >

> > A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one,

the owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!)

because she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that,

while my dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but

I would venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit

waiting to happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

> >

> > Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

> >

> > Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

> >

> > My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

> >

> > I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

> >

> > But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

> >

> > Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

> >

> > So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

> >

> > But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something

inappropriate, I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel

like my life's theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad)

sooner, set some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the

word until I was 30.

> >

> > So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

> >

> > Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

> >

> > Deanna

> >

>

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Thank you so much Annie. I will be bringing my boyfriend of 3 years, and though

he is not confrontational by nature, he said he will handle things however I

want him to. This is my first time hearing about " medium chill " and thank you

for posting the link to that. I already have Xanax on hand for this exact

thing, which I knew might be coming soon.

I just have to add that you are always telling us what an angel your sister is.

For this site, this group of troubled souls, *you* are that angel. Really. You

have such a terrific way with words, you are so comforting and give such

insight. Which isn't to say that everyone here isn't wonderful; they are. But

you are especially gifted and I am so grateful for that.

Deanna

>

> (((((Deanna)))))

> I'm so sorry you lost your father; my condolences. I can hear that you loved

him very much, and that underneath it all he loved you. And I can totally

understand why you are afraid of going to his funeral.

>

> In my opinion you HAVE shown your love and respect for your father when he was

alive. You are under NO obligation to attend his funeral if you feel it would

be harmful to your health due to your hostile mother and aunts and brother who

will probably use this opportunity to verbally attack you and rip you to shreds

emotionally.

>

> For this reason I would not judge you to be a bad person or a bad daughter if

you chose not to attend the viewing/memorial service/burial.

>

> Here is a possible alternative: You could go a day or so after the service

and burial and just spend some quiet time alone at your father's gravesite.

Bring flowers or read a favorite passage of yours or his, and spend the time

thinking about him and his life. Maybe that can help you say your final

goodbyes and give you closure but without risking an emotionally scarring,

vitriolic attack by your very hostile mother, brother and aunts.

>

> But you must decide what you need to do, yourself. Its about what you can or

can't tolerate and live with.

>

> If you decide that you do need to attend, then I suggest that if at all

possible:

>

> 1. get a good friend to come with you and to stick by your side for support

and to drive,

> 2. get a short-term prescription of tranquilizers and use them

> 3. stay as short a time as possible; stay in a hotel if its not a day trip,

not at anyone's home

> 4. avoid speaking with your foo or letting them get you alone as much as is

possible, and

> 5. when you must speak with any of them, employ " Medium Chill " techniques.

>

> I hope that helps.

>

> -Annie

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Thank you so much Sveta. I think you really summed it up with this:

> Our whole lives, we were taught that we should put our own feelings aside in

order to care for those of our dysfunctional parents. I think sometimes that

manifests itself when we try to get " good enough " at setting boundaries that we

can finally " tolerate " being around them. As if the problem is still with us,

that *if only* we were better at what we're learning in T then we could finally

be able to be around them for a little while without being bothered. But really,

their behavior *should* bother us. It's horrible! We just need to learn that

their behavior isn't our fault, that we can't change or control it, and that

it's okay not to want to be around people who act that way.

Sometimes I imagine it like this: If a certain man punched you every time you

walked into a room with him, eventually you should wise up and *stay away from

that room* and nobody would fault you for it! But with family, well, society

seems to generally agree that you should put up with almost anything. But, yes,

I can't live my life for " society. " Besides, they will be mad at me no matter

what I do at this point.

Thanks again. :)

Deanna

>

> (((Deanna))) I'm so sorry for your loss.

>

> Let me just say that it doesn't make you a coward for not wanting to talk to

your mother; it makes you smart. You know that already, but sometimes it helps

just to hear it from someone else. You did the right thing to hang up the phone.

>

> I have a friend whose father is terminally ill. Her FOO is dysfunctional, and

she was concerned about whether she should plan to go to his funeral services

when the time comes. She doesn't want to deal with the drama of her (I think

BPD) mother, she doesn't want to see the uncle who molested her as a child, she

doesn't want to spend the money to make another trip to her home state while in

the midst of a move, etc. But the FOG was gnawing at her a little bit.

Thankfully another friend had the sense to tell her: " You can pray for your dad

and say goodbye to him right here where you live. You made a trip to see your

dad this year for the sole purpose of saying goodbye to him. You got to see him

a second time when you went to your sister's wedding. There is no reason you

have to go back again and put yourself through stress you don't need when you

have already said goodbye, and when your prayers are just as good wherever you

are. " My friend said it was brilliant, but her grief wasn't letting her see that

it is okay not to go.

>

> So I will try to say something similar to you. If you do not want to be around

your crazy mother at a time when she will be acting even crazier than usual, if

you do not want to have to deal with the stress of trying to grieve while having

to guard yourself against incoming attack, then you don't have to go. That

doesn't make you a bad daughter, it doesn't mean you didn't love your dad. It

means you know you are worth taking care of. It means you know your limits.

Anyone who cares about you will be able to respect that.

>

> Our whole lives, we were taught that we should put our own feelings aside in

order to care for those of our dysfunctional parents. I think sometimes that

manifests itself when we try to get " good enough " at setting boundaries that we

can finally " tolerate " being around them. As if the problem is still with us,

that *if only* we were better at what we're learning in T then we could finally

be able to be around them for a little while without being bothered. But really,

their behavior *should* bother us. It's horrible! We just need to learn that

their behavior isn't our fault, that we can't change or control it, and that

it's okay not to want to be around people who act that way.

>

> If you want to go to your dad's services, then you can. I know you can handle

yourself. But if you would rather just say goodbye to him in your own way, and

maybe make a trip to visit his gravesite separately when the rest of your FOO

won't be around, that's perfectly reasonable. Nothing says you have to be at the

funeral.

>

> Hugs again,

> Sveta

>

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In order not to post a million times:

Jodie, good luck with the party. I hope it works out well for you. I think

it's terrific that you have a friend who is willing to stand by you through

that. That's awesome!

, I absolutely agree that funerals are for the living. Thank you so much

for your support and your ideas.

llel11, you are so right on about judging myself for not being able to suppress

my legitimate fears. I agree that we have the right to grieve privately. It's

so hard to grieve *at all* with my nada working to make this all about her!

Thank you Janet, for supporting me in not going if I don't want to.

Thank you for your response Laurie. Good for you for being in a place where you

walk out when abusive behavior starts. I am learning how to do that myself!

That is so HUGE.

And OH MY Fiona! Your handle has always intrigued me because my mother is a

hermit/witch. Those phone calls sound awful. My brother has also taken my

father's place at scolding me " because now HE has to put up with her shit " as

well! I know she is leaning on him now. He admitted to me 4 years ago that he

avoided her phone calls because he didn't want to deal with her. His wife used

to return them because he wasn't. Well his wife put her foot down and said YOU

call her back and I stepped away so now that judgmental ass is getting a REAL

TASTE of our mother. My bet is he *won't last 36 years of eating crap* like I

did. My bet is *I was stronger (stupider?) than he will be!*

When I shame myself for hanging up on her, I am also saying I did the right

thing. It is both. Good Deanna. Bad Deanna. You were wimpy. You were just

enforcing your boundaries. Gah.

Thanks so much again, everyone! This board is such a blessing!

Deanna

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(((((Deanna)))))

I'm glad that sharing " Medium Chill " may help you, and that you will have your

boyfriend with you throughout your dad's memorial services, etc. I think that

having him right there at your side will be about the most effective boundary

and shield you could wish for. And thank you for the sweet compliment. I'm so

glad we all found this Group and can help and validate each other.

-Annie

>

> Thank you so much Annie. I will be bringing my boyfriend of 3 years, and

though he is not confrontational by nature, he said he will handle things

however I want him to. This is my first time hearing about " medium chill " and

thank you for posting the link to that. I already have Xanax on hand for this

exact thing, which I knew might be coming soon.

>

> I just have to add that you are always telling us what an angel your sister

is. For this site, this group of troubled souls, *you* are that angel. Really.

You have such a terrific way with words, you are so comforting and give such

insight. Which isn't to say that everyone here isn't wonderful; they are. But

you are especially gifted and I am so grateful for that.

>

> Deanna

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If you can, please pray that I have the strength to make it through the funeral

on Saturday. I want to be able to stand up for myself. I want to have the

strength to *appear* strong, so I don't look like a victim/target and people

don't think it's OK to say inappropriate things to me.

Thank you so much.

Deanna

>

> Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

>

> I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

>

> My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

>

> It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

>

> One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

>

> When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

>

> When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

>

> Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

>

> I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days before

and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake. Without

exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside and tell

me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to her.* He

wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right? It's all

about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to handle

and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I always

felt shamed by him at those times.

>

> When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

>

> My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

>

> A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one, the

owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!) because

she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that, while my

dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but I would

venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit waiting to

happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

>

> Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

>

> Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

>

> My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

>

> I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

>

> But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

>

> Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

>

> So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

>

> But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something inappropriate,

I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel like my life's

theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad) sooner, set

some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the word until I

was 30.

>

> So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

>

> Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

>

> Deanna

>

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(((((Deanna)))))

Wishing you all the strength and courage you need, from me. When you feel up to

it I hope you will let us know how it went. Again, my condolences.

-Annie

> >

> > Four years ago I hung up on my mother, in order to avoid saying something

really awful to her. It was the first time I had ever refused to sit there and

take her raging or crying, which is so over the top that...well you guys

understand.

> >

> > I felt so backed into a corner with her being up my ass, insisting on 1 hour

phone calls about 5 days a week. Telling her it was too much and I didn't have

enough to talk about for an hour a day because my life was not that interesting

(blaming it on myself to spare her feelings) resulted in her threatening to

leave my life forever. So I always just gave in to her, the way one does to a

spoiled child.

> >

> > My father, who admitted that my mother could be " difficult, " gave in to her

nuttiness by coming after me, intimidating me to give in to her because he was

" sick of listening to her all night crying jags. "

> >

> > It was always about her. Nobody ever defended me or gave a shit about my

emotions because hers were so big and in your face that she made everything a

disaster.

> >

> > One time she left a message with my roommate around 11am and I was out all

day. When I got home at 6:30, she had called my house a dozen times and left

accusatory messages on the land line I shared with my roommate about how I was

obviously mad at her (bc I had not called her back yet). The last of the 5

messages was from my father commanding me to call my mother.

> >

> > When I called, he answered, not with a " hello " but with a, " Oh so you ARE

home. " I told him I had just walked in the door and he said, " SURE YOU DID. " I

told him what movie I saw and where I ate lunch that day but he stuck by his

assertion that I was a liar. Mind you, this was just my mother freaking out

because I had not called her back yet.

> >

> > When I hung up on her four years ago, my fear of retribution was so strong

that for MONTHS upon entering my housing complex my heart rate went up and I

scanned the cars in the lot, desperately fearful that my father would be waiting

for me to command me to talk to my mother.

> >

> > Some 6 months after my hang up my father was diagnosed with early onset

Alzheimers and I intensified my therapy, started EMDR, all in the hopes that I

could learn to stand up for myself and be strong enough to handle being around

them before he lost his mind. I thought maybe some day I could really get him

alone and explain myself, my fear. I saw them once or twice a year after that,

but refused to talk to my mother on the phone EVER AGAIN. Talking to her made

me physically sick.

> >

> > I drugged myself up with Xanax for these visits and I was sick for days

before and weeks afterwards, but I soldiered through it for my father's sake.

Without exception, during every visit, he would find the time to pull me aside

and tell me that I need to call my mother because *he was sick of listening to

her.* He wanted me to take that burden back. Who gives a fuck about me right?

It's all about my mother's feelings. I told him that she was too much for me to

handle and if she had emotional needs she should seek out a therapist. But I

always felt shamed by him at those times.

> >

> > When he got put into a home, I was able to visit him without seeing her, but

it was always a gamble that she might show up. I know she is a morning person

so I went in the afternoons and I managed to avoid her. I did not visit him a

lot because it was so painful and I didn't want to run into her.

> >

> > My first visit was the one that counted though. I came in and he was pretty

demented at that time, not making much sense at all. But the thing that got me

was the look on his face when I walked in. He looked at me with a joy and a

love I have never seen from him, ever. So I thought, well maybe that is really

how he feels even though he can't show it.

> >

> > A couple interesting things about his induction into this home. For one,

the owner told me that she didn't make my mother sign the paperwork (!!!!!!)

because she was so emotional. So she waited a week before making her do that,

while my dad was already living there. She said she " hardly ever " does that but

I would venture to guess that she *never* does that because that is a lawsuit

waiting to happen. This is a testament to how hysterical she must have been.

> >

> > Secondly, she told me that Alzheimers patients generally ask where is my

spouse, and what am I doing here and they are frightened by their new

surroundings. NOT MY DAD. He NEVER asked that.

> >

> > Honestly, when I saw him in there, he seemed to calm. Maybe being away from

her was a relief? Or maybe I'm just projecting.

> >

> > My brother called yesterday to say his condition was worsening and he was

driving 2 hours to get to him. I said I would go the next day and he said my

father might not live that long. I simply couldn't face my mother in a crazed

state, plus my brother has a habit of verbally attacking me and just seeing my

father like this is so hard. Well, he died before my brother made it there. He

called me back to tell me, and he asked if I wanted to talk to my mother and I

said no. Then I began to tell him I was sorry he didn't make it there in time,

and in the middle of my sentence my mother is on the phone, talking. (I think

she ripped it from his hands) I immediately hung up.

> >

> > I regretted hanging up even as I was doing it. I thought dammit I am such a

coward.

> >

> > But then I thought about all the times I have told her no and she has

steamrollered over me. Mom, stop badmouthing my friend. Mom, stop laughing

about my cat's near death. Mom, I can't listen to this tirade anymore. No, I

am not sending this person a card. Mom, I told you to stop asking me about the

guy who sexually assaulted me. No, I don't want all of this grapefruit from

your tree; you know I hate grapefruit. Mom, I have to get off the phone.

Please let me off the phone. I'm tired, I want off the phone. Please stop

calling me every day. Or how about the time I was 21 and she commented on my

push up bra by asking me if " those things are real " and grabbing my breasts to

see for herself?

> >

> > Boundary after boundary crossed, ignored, violated. It seems childish in a

normal world to hang up on your mother when your father just died but dammit I

said NO I don't want to talk to her. NO. NO. NO. Why is my " NO " like

spitting in the wind? I was just so angry all over again.

> >

> > So now there's going to be a funeral and I am so afraid of going. She has

several siblings, all of whom have at some time or another accused me of being

mean to her (even when I was 16) but none of them know about how she tortured me

with a hot iron when I was 10, or so many other ways she broke my spirit.

> >

> > But I guess it's just words, right? If someone says something

inappropriate, I have the ability to put them in their place. Or do I? I feel

like my life's theme is just cowardice. I wish I'd stood up to her (and my dad)

sooner, set some boundaries. But I literally didn't know the meaning of the

word until I was 30.

> >

> > So, per usual, I cannot simply grieve my father's death and the loss of the

chance to have a healthy relationship with him because it is all about my mother

and what she's going to do, and how her older siblings are going to take my

father's place and tell me I'm naughty. I am feeling so afraid and so cowardly.

> >

> > Thanks for listening. I'm sorry this was so long.

> >

> > Deanna

> >

>

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Posted

Thank you so much Annie.

> >

> > If you can, please pray that I have the strength to make it through the

funeral on Saturday. I want to be able to stand up for myself. I want to have

the strength to *appear* strong, so I don't look like a victim/target and people

don't think it's OK to say inappropriate things to me.

> >

> > Thank you so much.

> > Deanna

> >

> >

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