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Family of Origin
Being who we are, even if FOO is different and doesn't like it
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 672101" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Except me. I do not want to know. I want him to keep it to himself. Because he tells me to share the pain and the fear, or to impart guilt. He listens not at all to any remedy. And does what he wants.</p><p></p><p>There is a big mess in M's family of origin, more than a year in the making. I have written of it. Involving the concealed maneuvering of a sister to obtain the house of the parents, cutting out the others. </p><p></p><p>Nothing like this has ever happened in the family. M and his sister are wounded to the core. It is not the house that matters to them, it is the lack of concern to how it would affect the mother, and secondarily their disabled brother. </p><p></p><p>Yesterday or the day before M's sister and I spoke of it, as it concerned Thanksgiving. I had offered to host the meal, and invite the troublesome sister and the second troublesome sister, but less so, as well. </p><p></p><p>M had said he could care less to invite or not the family. </p><p></p><p>But M's sister decided with these words: No. She has to solve this. She made the problem. She needs to clean it up. Until she does, I do not want to pretend the problem does not exist.</p><p></p><p>This heavy a problem has never happened before in the family. There is no precedent. Her sisters are her only friends. She wanted it this way. But she does not want anything but truth and order and responsibility.</p><p></p><p>Speaking of M's sister. Today we arranged a den for M in the room until today where we have slept. For the whole time you have known me and 3 years before that this room has been my refuge. Here, with my computer and radio, in the bed, I have felt safe. Yesterday we made the master bed in the master bedroom which was my mother's where she died. I am now in that bedroom because my refuge no longer exists. </p><p></p><p>It is a big step for me, no? </p><p></p><p>So we arranged the den for M. It is not done but the furniture is arranged to my liking and the art on the walls (a lot of it, my mother's and mine, too). So I said, in the way I talk. I want it, now. (It was so pretty and comfortable.) </p><p></p><p>Anybody who knew me would have heard me with these word--how wonderful this is. I am so happy. But she had heard me say ten minutes before, after we had tried the arm chair and ottoman (of my mother's) where M wanted--I do not like it here. It is too heavy for this corner. And then move it and move it and move it, along with the oval table--until I found exactly where it went. Because to me the things tell me where they belong and I need to listen.</p><p></p><p>So she closed to door so that M could not hear and said this: As long as M lives here with you you have to decide with him, not yourself. M needs to be included in all of the decisions that affect him. And she opened the door and closed it again to tell me again. To correct me. Again. To make sure that I understood.</p><p></p><p>OK, I said. I was so hurt. I think this is what M must have meant that he did not want that I should be hurt. </p><p></p><p>A bit later, I am embarrassed to tell you I said this (with a whiny voice): In my family the women decide where the furniture goes. </p><p></p><p>So M was shown the room we created: he said, it's fine. I want the chair here, but I understand why you but it here. Put it where you want. I'll move it where I want.</p><p></p><p>I am worried because this is part of what went with wrong with the other sister, that she started bossing me around.</p><p></p><p>I love this. The part I like the best is that he could care less the gossipy, uniting like children games. He does not dignify it with a response. Nor does it touch him. Like it would me.</p><p></p><p>I would be so offended and hurt. Because I do not wear my power well.</p><p></p><p>He does not feel like he should be servile, or needs to be in order to prove his love. To endure their idiocy. His love exists above and below and all around. Not in one single thing. This is how is should be. I think. </p><p></p><p>He is treating them as the adults that they are. He would not fake it with any other adult past a few minutes of civility. And then he would bid them goodbye, I think.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 672101, member: 18958"] Except me. I do not want to know. I want him to keep it to himself. Because he tells me to share the pain and the fear, or to impart guilt. He listens not at all to any remedy. And does what he wants. There is a big mess in M's family of origin, more than a year in the making. I have written of it. Involving the concealed maneuvering of a sister to obtain the house of the parents, cutting out the others. Nothing like this has ever happened in the family. M and his sister are wounded to the core. It is not the house that matters to them, it is the lack of concern to how it would affect the mother, and secondarily their disabled brother. Yesterday or the day before M's sister and I spoke of it, as it concerned Thanksgiving. I had offered to host the meal, and invite the troublesome sister and the second troublesome sister, but less so, as well. M had said he could care less to invite or not the family. But M's sister decided with these words: No. She has to solve this. She made the problem. She needs to clean it up. Until she does, I do not want to pretend the problem does not exist. This heavy a problem has never happened before in the family. There is no precedent. Her sisters are her only friends. She wanted it this way. But she does not want anything but truth and order and responsibility. Speaking of M's sister. Today we arranged a den for M in the room until today where we have slept. For the whole time you have known me and 3 years before that this room has been my refuge. Here, with my computer and radio, in the bed, I have felt safe. Yesterday we made the master bed in the master bedroom which was my mother's where she died. I am now in that bedroom because my refuge no longer exists. It is a big step for me, no? So we arranged the den for M. It is not done but the furniture is arranged to my liking and the art on the walls (a lot of it, my mother's and mine, too). So I said, in the way I talk. I want it, now. (It was so pretty and comfortable.) Anybody who knew me would have heard me with these word--how wonderful this is. I am so happy. But she had heard me say ten minutes before, after we had tried the arm chair and ottoman (of my mother's) where M wanted--I do not like it here. It is too heavy for this corner. And then move it and move it and move it, along with the oval table--until I found exactly where it went. Because to me the things tell me where they belong and I need to listen. So she closed to door so that M could not hear and said this: As long as M lives here with you you have to decide with him, not yourself. M needs to be included in all of the decisions that affect him. And she opened the door and closed it again to tell me again. To correct me. Again. To make sure that I understood. OK, I said. I was so hurt. I think this is what M must have meant that he did not want that I should be hurt. A bit later, I am embarrassed to tell you I said this (with a whiny voice): In my family the women decide where the furniture goes. So M was shown the room we created: he said, it's fine. I want the chair here, but I understand why you but it here. Put it where you want. I'll move it where I want. I am worried because this is part of what went with wrong with the other sister, that she started bossing me around. I love this. The part I like the best is that he could care less the gossipy, uniting like children games. He does not dignify it with a response. Nor does it touch him. Like it would me. I would be so offended and hurt. Because I do not wear my power well. He does not feel like he should be servile, or needs to be in order to prove his love. To endure their idiocy. His love exists above and below and all around. Not in one single thing. This is how is should be. I think. He is treating them as the adults that they are. He would not fake it with any other adult past a few minutes of civility. And then he would bid them goodbye, I think. COPA [/QUOTE]
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