Dysfunction is a family thing. We grow up with it and don't know that it is , because that is all we have ever known. We think it's normal to treat each other a certain way, or to smooth over behavior that is hurtful or unworkable. That was the way in our family.
My mother, she is 90 now, has been the center of our attention our whole lives. We grew up enabling her to be timid, afraid, sick, overwhelmed and emotional. She was not happy with anything. The weather was a really big concern for her. It was always; too something. I know now that she was afraid of everything.
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The tactics that she has employed to keep our attention have been amazing. I am still the outcast of the family. She has played us against each other regularly unbeknownst to us. We are one boy and four girls. I believe that she went to great lengths to make sure that we were not close to each other.
I grew up thinking that we were a perfect family. My fantasy! When we grew up and had families of our own, we had reunions every three years.
I remember how preoccupied we were with our mother. Not one celebration went without an incident in which mom was at the center. She broke her arm on two separate reunions.
My father stuck by her like glue and supported everything she did. We had a perfect role model. She needed him terribly. What would she do without him, we wondered?
We did find out later when he died in his early seventies due to lung cancer. She was confused. I was there when he passed away. I had the job of phoning my siblings and taking care of the funeral arrangements.
Mom suffered from instant dementia. I stayed to help her but she became upset with me and asked me to take her to my brothers, an eight hour drive away. She cried most of the way there lamenting that I was going the wrong way and would I turn around. It was a year before she spoke to me again. She went from my brothers place and on to each of my sisters until she went back home (she didn't know where to be).
She had home care for a time and seemed to be coming out of it. She never seemed happy with anything,though.
An episode occurred that has separated me from my sisters and may never be healed. She decided that she wanted to live in the town where I lived and put down a small deposit on a piece of resort property by the lake.
We asked that her cheque be held until she notified the rest of the family and I waited for her to take care of the telling. I don't know what happened next but I was accused of conspiracy in having my mother move close to me without consulting anyone. Letters and e-mails were sent, words were said. Feelings were hurt.
After her stressful move, Mom began a series of panic attacks that debilitated her for almost two years.
My husband, Terry, and I had to deal with it. The medical system was of some small help. Terry was an angel.
After that, she was taken off to an assisted living complex in the town of one of my sisters and has had a few years with her anxiety disorder subdued. You can numb a lot of things with pharmaceuticals. Now, it is back again and all the wounds are re-opened. We are all in our sixties and we might as well be fifteen.
I have grown and I have evolved. I believe that I will have dealt with my issues before I die. I know that it hasn't happened yet, as this article is proof enough. It started out being about panic attacks, of which I too have had. Will the guilt ever be addressed and will we find serenity in our old age.
Coming soon..real article about panic attacks.