I’ve decided to take a blog break for the weekend, so I won’t be reading, writing or commenting etc. If I don’t reply to a comment for a couple of days it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it – many thanks..
Awry
I don’t think I have ever used the word ‘awry’ before so it looks a bit odd when I write it. When things go awry = when things go skewy, veer crookedly off the planned plan, transform pleasant into unpleasant. Awry is my new word for what is happening, unhappening and happening again.
This morning one of Anthony’s nieces and her husband travelled an hour and a half to come and see him. Initially, the plan was that I would order us all lunch at the nursing lodge and eat there, then I realized that there was a restaurant on the beach around a block away so I organized for Ants to be ready in a wheelchair and we would all walk down. So J and D arrived at the farm, we caught up with each other and had a coffee, then drove in to the nursing lodge.
On arrival at the nursing lodge, Ants was in a wheelchair ready but looking angry. Even though I had told him yesterday that D and J were coming and he said he’d like to go to the restaurant, he’d forgotten and was quite cross with me for not telling him. Nevertheless we set off with D pushing the wheelchair. The restaurant was pretty ordinary, nothing flash, and Ants immediately said to me in his new mumbly voice that it was pretty rough but we all ended up having a nice meal and yet Ants remained angry and kept having little conversations with me that I could hardly decipher except that his anger was potent.
I got a bit of a shock because Ants is never angry or rude or ungracious or cantankerous but today he was all of those things. On the walk back up a rather long hill to the nursing lodge he refused to be wheeled in the wheelchair and insisted on walking – very slowly – holding my hand. He somehow got to the top of the road panting a little and D, J and I finally convinced him to get back into the wheelchair. It has been months since I have seen him walk this far and it was obvious that he was trying to prove he could do it in front of J and D. Of course I realized this at the time and I would have had all the patience in the world if he hadn’t been so aggro.
We got him back to his room and transferred him from the wheelchair to his armchair, had a bit of a chat but it just wasn’t working; he was still angry and when I sort of told him off in a flippant way he said it wasn’t J and D, it was me he was annoyed with. Oh great, I thought. So I explained we had to go but then he insisted on walking us all out. I tried to stop him because he was exhausted, but, as usual, I relented, fetched the walker and we all slowly made our way out. We all tried to stop him coming out of the front door but he wouldn’t stop. J and D said their goodbyes and walked up to the parking lot to wait for me. Once they had walked away, I burst into tears and said to Anthony, “Why? Why are you so angry with me? I organized this lunch for you with D and J who we haven’t seen for ages and you were just horrible, especially to me. Why?”
This anger thing is new. Oh great – what fun. Yesterday was total confusion and today anger. What next?
Yes, yes, I know it’s the Parkinson’s Disease Dementia crawling around in his brain – I know that and I am not complaining because I understand and empathize and his homesickness is like a constant haunting taunt for him and me, and I love him so much but he really hurt me today and maybe taking Anthony out, or home, is a bad idea – unsettling, disorientating, confusing. Maybe I will have to give up.
Awry.
Whose egg is this?
The chooks lay all of their eggs in the same place – in the chook house – and Tapper, the duck, lays hers there too. The geese, on the other hand lay them anywhere and everywhere. There aren’t that many goose eggs but every now and then I see one in the middle of the lawn and I wonder whose egg it is. Then, the other day, I was sitting at my little picnic table near the bird yards and Ola just popped one out right in front of me (it’s the same one I put into Ming’s scrambled eggs the other night).
I have now asked Ola if she wouldn’t mind laying her eggs in the yard. She has agreed.
Scrambled eggs
I made Ming scrambled eggs, bacon and tomatoes last night and he said the eggs were really different and fantastic! I said it was because they started out poached but ended up scrambling themselves.
I didn’t tell him I had chucked a massive goose egg into the mix.
Ah, control!
Control
I latched onto a couple of quotes from two articles that I found on Monday and, when I read them to Ming yesterday, he was blown away. The first comes from this source: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/healthy-connections/201007/help-my-controlling-behavior-is-ruining-relationships
“How does a person become controlling? It is basically a method of coping with the anxiety they feel beginning very early in life. Some had parents who couldn’t quite fulfill their role as strong caregivers and seemed to be weak or incapable.
A child in this situation, as early as age 3, may begin to prop up their parents and become a little adult very early on. If the stress continues, fear increases and the use of attempts to control what they can, becomes compulsive and unconscious. It is more likely to happen with children who are helpers, and/or leaders by nature, often first born boys or girls feel proud of themselves for helping and it is encouraged or reinforced by parents and other influential adults. They may also have a tendency toward anxiety, worry and perfectionism which will only make it worse.”
The second quote comes from this source: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/emotional-freedom/201010/how-deal-control-freak
“Controllers are often perfectionists. They may feel, ‘If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.’ …. Controllers are also controlling with themselves. They may fanatically count carbs, become clean freaks or workaholics. Conventional psychiatry classifies extreme cases as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder–people are rigidly preoccupied with details, rules, lists, and dominating others at the expense of flexibility and openness.
QUIZ: AM I IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A CONTROLLER? (from Emotional Freedom)
- Does this person keep claiming to know what’s best for you?
- Do you typically have to do things his way?
- Is he or she so domineering you feel suffocated?
- Do you feel like you’re held prisoner to this person’s rigid sense of order?
- Is this relationship no fun because it lacks spontaneity?
If you answer “yes” to 1-2 questions, it’s likely you’re dealing with a controller. Responding “yes” to 3 or more questions suggests that a controller is violating our emotional freedom.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I read these quoted excerpts to Ming so it was rather lovely when he listened without angst and it was very interesting to see his jaw drop in recognition of himself and me. I guess you could call it an epiphany.
It was during our first session with the counsellor last week that she suggested we might have control issues, so it was the word ‘control’ that stuck in my head and is why, after things went haywire on Sunday, I googled ‘control issues’ and found the above two articles. What would we do without google – ha!
“So I’m a control freak,” Ming said with a certain amount of relief and a tinge of pride.
“Yes.”
“And it’s because I couldn’t control Dad’s sickness and your misery, and my back and all the shit?”
“Possibly.”
“So what do we do now?” Ming asked.
“Well, we’ve already taken the first step, kid.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am the one in control now so you can just freak off!”
His pealing laughter filled the house and my heart had a lovely little nap.
Sometimes I just want to go back in time!
Godzilla
It is the beginning of my third day of being Godzilla since my tranformation on Sunday night and I am gaining a whole new perspective from my great height. One of the interesting things I’ve realized is that I have never been the boss here. It has been an old-fashioned sort of marriage with Anthony making all of the decisions to do with the house, garden, farm etc. Mostly this was fine with me and I deferred to him because (a) he was an older man; (b) I married into an already established home; and (c) I didn’t mind or care about the garden and house decisions.
Don’t get me wrong. Ants was never bossy or overbearing; it’s just that as a retired dairy farmer, he naturally took responsibility for all the home stuff and I went out to work and pursued my academic career. But now, when I look back, I see that I did not make any of the decisions. He did. For example, I couldn’t simply ring up and get someone to help us repair a pump or a fence or an electrical fault. This was always Anthony’s territory. Occasionally this would drive me mad and we would argue, but not often. Usually I would just give up and leave it to him.
On the other hand, we did make some decisions together – a new mirror, carpet, a car, new tiles for the kitchen, Christmas presents for Ming, and we had enormous fun doing so, but the final word was always Anthony’s. He was the boss. I was under the thumb, but the thing is, you see, I didn’t mind and anyway I was preoccupied with my teaching job and my writing.
As his health began to deteriorate dramatically (nearly 5 years ago), I wanted to buy a ride-on lawnmower to make it easier but he wouldn’t let me and that was that. I wanted to get reticulation but he wouldn’t let me and that was that. Many of my female friends were amazed at my lack of assertiveness and autonomy; after all Anthony was never dictatorial or bullying or nasty – it’s just that the power was his from the outset I guess and so I have never felt any sense of ownership in terms of this home that I love, this farm that I love. In fact all of my toiletries are still in a travel bag under the sink in the bathroom; I have never unpacked them!
Blip ahead to now (8 months since Ants went into the nursing lodge and 7 months since Ming’s scoliosis operation), the dynamics shifted subteley and I found myself under someone else’s thumb – Ming’s. Initially, I was so proud of him for taking on this role of ‘man of the house’, and he took the reins of control with alacrity. But several weeks ago, this arrangement began to fall apart – his bossiness exhausted me, and the bossier he became the more defeated I became. To top it off, my sorrow about Anthony kept clashing with Ming’s anger about Anthony and we began to avoid each other.
Of course there is a lot more to this but on Sunday it all came to a head and I finally realized I was actually being bullied, and I drew the line and took back a control that I never had in the first place. For a kid who is unfamiliar with the word ‘No’ this has been an interesting transition, so we are both experiencing brand new roles and it is rather wonderful! I love being the boss and today I have a lawnmowing man and his son out here getting the place back into shape and teaching Ming how to do stuff and I orchestrated it, I made the decision – me!
Even Godfrey, the Godzilla of ganderdom, has a new respect for me. Yeeha!
Enough is enough
I have been struggling to write about something for a couple of days because, despite the fact that I am fine with being honest and open about stuff in this blog, on Sunday our family situation became, for me, unbearable and I gave up. I couldn’t write about it except metaphorically (the ‘despair’ post for eg.)
That’s what happens, I think, when you have been enoughed enough – ha! But, on Sunday night, I realized that being this cringing wimp wasn’t helping so I gave up giving up and got angry instead.
I became Godzilla and it was very satisfying! I said NO, I said I am the boss, not you, I said enough is enough.
The teenager from hell suddenly reverted to his usual angelic personality and it has now lasted 48 hours. There is hope.
Gramophone glee
I finally took delivery of the gramophone I bought for Anthony a while ago so yesterday I met my mother and sister-in-law at the nursing lodge and we cranked it up. Anthony was invisibly thrilled – ha – but it was definitely a success. It just fits into the cupboard in his room so that’s good because now, whenever I go in, I can bring it out and put it on.
It’s nearly yesterday!
In just a few minutes, Today will become Yesterday and Tomorrow will take over.
Good! I have fallen into the most beautiful friendship with Tomorrow because Tomorrow is so wise, patient and extraordinarily constant.
Today and Yesterday have been impossibly difficult, lately so I have reminded them that Tomorrow will always be my favourite day – always.
Gotta go – Tomorrow is just about to arrive. Yeeha!
jmgoyder 