(no subject)
Mar. 19th, 2005 11:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grinninfooleMy mom, who is missing part of her lung because of the cancer surgery, has been struggling with bronchitis for a couple of weeks now. She took a course of anti-biotics, which worked for awhile, but wasn't long enough because the wheezing is back. Now she's using an inhaler, which is tough because her hands aren't strong enough to use properly without help.
Every time I talk to her these days, she asks me when I'm coming home to see her. I don't know. Not as often as either of us would like. But, honestly, even if I come home more often, there's only so much I can do to make things better. I can't make Dad less self-absorbed and more relaxed about his health. I can't bring my brother out of his shell. I can't give my mom back her health, or give her the self-confidence she's never had (though she used to have more.)
Recently, a friend wrote in their LJ: "It's too frightening, too wrought with the prospect of feeling like a schmuck. Not that anyone would fault me for trying and failing, but I have a lot of angst about appearing to fail. Somewhere along the way of my childhood, I internalized a message that one must always appear to be succeeding or else not trying."
They went on to talk about their parents and how said parents encouraged this risk aversion. My family did, too, but in different ways. I may have posted about this before, but my Dad has lived his life, for as long as I have known him, as if stress was the worst thing ever. The lesson I learned from this was to eliminate all stress from my life, and when that failed, it was especially bad because the stress (from whatever cause), was itself a sign of failure. My mom's role in this was subtler, harder for me to see, but her life trauma was one of seeking approval. She was routinely belittled and demeaned as a girl by her family (and, actually, this pattern continued into her adulthood--into my lifetime--and vestiges still persist when dealing with her brother), and this has led her to hungrily seek validation from others (including me). It breaks my heart, and definitely makes it hard for her to bear up under the greater stresses in her life today. Which is sad, because she did such a great job when I was a kid.
Every time I talk to her these days, she asks me when I'm coming home to see her. I don't know. Not as often as either of us would like. But, honestly, even if I come home more often, there's only so much I can do to make things better. I can't make Dad less self-absorbed and more relaxed about his health. I can't bring my brother out of his shell. I can't give my mom back her health, or give her the self-confidence she's never had (though she used to have more.)
Recently, a friend wrote in their LJ: "It's too frightening, too wrought with the prospect of feeling like a schmuck. Not that anyone would fault me for trying and failing, but I have a lot of angst about appearing to fail. Somewhere along the way of my childhood, I internalized a message that one must always appear to be succeeding or else not trying."
They went on to talk about their parents and how said parents encouraged this risk aversion. My family did, too, but in different ways. I may have posted about this before, but my Dad has lived his life, for as long as I have known him, as if stress was the worst thing ever. The lesson I learned from this was to eliminate all stress from my life, and when that failed, it was especially bad because the stress (from whatever cause), was itself a sign of failure. My mom's role in this was subtler, harder for me to see, but her life trauma was one of seeking approval. She was routinely belittled and demeaned as a girl by her family (and, actually, this pattern continued into her adulthood--into my lifetime--and vestiges still persist when dealing with her brother), and this has led her to hungrily seek validation from others (including me). It breaks my heart, and definitely makes it hard for her to bear up under the greater stresses in her life today. Which is sad, because she did such a great job when I was a kid.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
You're absolutely right
Date: 2005-03-20 05:26 pm (UTC)When someone has the will to make things better, but not the means, providing the scaffolding for them to reach the means is an invaluable gift and it is amazing to see what someone does with that gift. When the person is not in that space, there is sadly very little you can do that is actually effective, although you can sometimes do thing that make you (and occasionally them) feel it's effective - for a short while at least.
That kind of support is always temporary and fleeting in its usefulness, sadly.
I wish I knew better advice than that. I went through this angst with my mom too. How do you tell someone that they've got to stand up and do for themselves? It sounds so selfish. But remember, there's a difference between telling someone that you'll help them feel better and telling someone that you'll help them help themselves feel better. I think that's what you can and still feel good about yourself.
I'll be here for you.