Sp, I mulled, and I have some clarity in the matter.
First, I want to share.... I considered whether or not I was behaving in a way that was anything like M offering to judge and pick apart your housecleaning skills, Hops and then ask to be thanked over and over again for it.
I pulled back, thought and though, while working in the garden and this is what I came up with.
M's offer to come into my home and critique my housekeeping skills would drive me nuts too.
The thing is.... I'm talking about larger things... things I couldnt' walk away from, or shouldn't have if I did, in any way..... even though they weren't mine to fix or save or go all heroic over..... I still tried, right or wrong, and to no avail. I could have done nothing and not had to wrestle with all the feelings of failure I dealt with, bc.... you can't save people from themselves.
Example 1.... my father scheduling fricking brain surgery over a Christmas break where my sib and spouse were flying in from out of the Country...... I was shocked, to be frank. At his timing and THEN at his complete refusal to get a second opinion FOR BRAIN SURGERY.
Brain.
Surgery.
ON HIS brain.
That wasn't happening to me or my father or our family, so I did his due diligence for him, and got releases signed, picked up heavy MRIs from two hospitals, then took them to see TWO brain surgeons to get a second and third opinion, which was an imperative. No two ways about it. I DID THAT. Someone HAD to.
He'd taken me to get my wisdom teeth out when I was a teenager, and kind of sucked at it, but I WAS GOING TO BE the responsible party at that dance, bc someone friggin needed to be. TAG, neither of my sibs thought about it, so I picked up that ball, DIDN'T COMPLAIN or ask for ONE pat on the back, I did what needed doing, and I shared that information,nothing positive about it, btw, with my father, who gave me the cold should AND got very very angry with me, and set his sycophant on me to shut me up.
THE NERVE!
And eventually I shut up, and readied myself for what came next..... complete and utter disaster for my father, his sycophant and our entire family. And I didn't enjoy being right. I didn't care at all to hear the sychophant SAY "You were right, Lighter" from her sad little position, rocking, on the dirty hospital floor, shaking bc she was in shock as I sat on my father's chest, holding him down, surprisingly strong with half his body paralyzed, trying to drag himself OUT of the hospital to kill himself bc his brain was swelling and the doc was refusing to help, as I demanded HELP from a doctor, on the phone, from my perch on dad's chest.
This wasn't a debacle. This was a catastrophe for us all, particularly Dad and his sycophant. Can you tell I'm having......
feelings toward the sycophant.... they're recent.
Yup yup yup.
I got through 20 years of dad being wheelchair bound, and unwilling to help himself, at all, or anyone, including the sycophant as her back buckled and her body gave out. I held, mostly, my tongue and did what needed doing, bc that's
what
I
do.
Tried to help the sycophant,but she just did as she was told, and basically refused to present a united front with me and my sister to HELP her. OK.
Ahem... I have more to say about post op.....
See.... dad wasn't swallowing, leading up to the suicide attempt, so something was wrong with his BRAIN. I saw it, reported it, and eventually demanded help, but the doc thought he'd threaten me with ZERO care and treatment for my father if I was going to talk to him that way and then my brother walked in and took over, sending me home, and I guess calming my dad down, or getting a nurse to give him a sedative, but I got to go home. That's what I did.
The next day I was walking into the hospital, bc my dad had a botched friggin brain surgery and I was trying to sort things out, when I see my dad wheeled by on a cart under emergency circumstances for EMERGENCY surgery, bc his BRAIN WAS SWELLING, and that had to be an emergency, I guess.
For fuck's sake. Really? It couldn't be another regularly screwed up day, where dad was getting proper care at a good hospital, for a botched brain surgery and the fact his brain was swelling the DAY BEFORE so the staff DID the right thing and dealt with it BEFORE the brain swelled..... no.
Dad had to be sent to the oncology floor, where he was care for, sort of, by nurses used to easing pain, not watching post op brain surgery patients AT ALL, and pretty much left US to care for Dad, bc that's what nurses apparently do when family is present, bless their hearts, you know they work hard BUT... the docs wanted DAD OUT of the hospital, completely and IN rehab, which I could see he wasn't ready for, and then Dad's heading for EMERGENCY surgery, bc the medical staff were sucking particularly hard, and maybe that's my fault too?
Hmmm....
I'm thinking on that right now, and NO. No it wasn't MY fault. I was doing MY job, waddling down the hallway, putting my head between my knees when the hospital smell and trauma and stress threatened to make everything go all black and GOT to his room, whichever one he was in, and I did what needed to be done, that WAS ME.
Always.
There.
Doing the hard stuff, even when people didn't want to HEAR it. I said it. I said it straight out and I meant every word, and every word
meant something important.
I tell you one thing... if you're sick, you want me there, to your doctors, taking notes, doing research, playing devil's advocate and bouncing things off of, bc I care. Not too much, IME. Enough. The right amount considering the severity of the circumstances, and it costs me things, and I don't keep track or expect a pat for it I EXPECT people to listen and hear and consider... be wise. Be pragmatic. Be aware... and hear the truth, even if it's not the truth they want to hear.
The second and third opinions, from the 2 other brain doctors, were pretty much the same, btw. Dad would have to learn to DO everything again... he'd lose ability to walk, talk, BREATHE, and dad was telling me he'd "walk out of the hospital after 4 days" which apparently his A hole surgeon told him, though I have to believe he said more, but dad focused on the positive.
WHen I learned Dad was dealing with all this I took him to appointments. I met the A hole doc, quite the charmer, but still...... the situation was NEVER going to be Dad walking out of the hospital, bc I KNEW....
I knew.....
dad would never do any of the rehab required to make that happen. Turns out I was right, and that didn't feel good either. Being right felt very very bad. I would have loved to be proven wrong. JUST ONCE.
I did that due diligence. I walked those MRI's around, and God only knows how ANYONE could make me the bad guy in that, but....
but......
Lord, what were they thinking about me? I had..... bad intentions? I didn't want him to get better? I was.... an ass, or..... worse? WHY would I DO all that, and end up accused of being a bad guy? What possible ill intent could I have held for my father? Anger, at me, was so wrong, so...... I can't even imagine feeling that way toward someone who cared that much, did that FOR me, and my benefit, but Dad had to have felt I was trying to steal a quick fix, his recovery, his return to normal life, and that's just the way it was. He was focused on that outcome,a nd anything else wasn't something he could hear, not at that time.
Makes zero sense to me, but this is a pattern IN MY LIFE, and we all paid for it.
Another time he treated me like I wasn't on his side....
I did some renovations on his house, acted as the realtor, and sold it for him... took the normal commission a realtor would take... nothing for the work I'd done AND THEN HE ACTED LIKE I WAS GREEDY OR SOMETHING bc I tried to get him 30 year terms on the loan, which he made to the buyer, which was a really great deal. It was a really great thing, honestly..... he got a check for 15 years, and COULD have gotten one for 30, which would have been very helpful, but for.....
for.....
me not wanting him to have his money....he actually said that to me. Like I truly didn't want him to have his money.
A child.
Like talking to a child.
And I think we know how well my second marriage worked out with me trying to heal and make peace and get OUT without standing up for myself, and really getting very loud and pushy, bc women like that look like bitches, a nd are punished. By the court, their attorneys, and maybe their ASPD stbx husbands too, but the truth is....
the truth is.....
I couldn't save my father, even though I tried.
I couldn't save my ASPD stbx, even though I tried.
Was I blamed, yup. At one point I ended up persecuted and prosecuted... yup.
And that's my puzzle to work out.
I can't fix, but I'm always there for the fallout from when the wheels come off. When the shit storm strikes. When exactly what I SAID would happen...
happens. And everyone, particularly the men, can go all wide eyed and say "didn't see THAT coming" when I'd just explained..... well, I did explain exactly what was going to happen. I did try. I just wash;t heard, or I was punished. Just.. inconceivable.
And I've said a lot over the years. I've been ignored. Not heard. Not honored, and the fuck's wrong with me for continuing to "be helpful" when I'm accused of having ill motives...
for
fuck's
sake.
You can't save people from themselves, and accepting that...
making peace with that.....
it's better.
I mean, bathing my father, putting pills into his mouth, taking him to the bathroom 8 times a day, letting him put pressure on my back lifting him over and over and over was ALL better once I made peace with that.
But making peace with that was hard. I suffered. I didn't understand, and now...
now.....
I'm focused in a not so healthy way on that sycophant I mentioned earlier in this post. Not consistently.... mainly when she asks for my attention, which she;s stopped doing. Hmmmm.
I remember.... everything.... and I haven't forgiven, I realize. I certainly haven't forgotten. Even though she's paid with 20 years of her life, caring for my father..... she's mistaken my kindness for weakness, as so many have.
And I'm about tired of that.... that's about to end too.
Done.
And ladies... I wouldn't press into your homes, judge your cleaning and try to shame you so I could be a hero.
I don't think that's what I do, though I gave it a good long hard ass look before deciding on this post.
And I've cleaned one of my best friend's houses, I did that. Many times. Very well. Mostly bc my kids used her bathroom and kitchen, but sometimes bc she'd been away for 3 months and I wanted her to return to a pristine house so her son and I cleaned together.... no one asking for any pats on the back or gratitude. Just knowing she would sleep in clean sheets after a long flight, use clean bathrooms, and make coffee in a pristine kitchen was the payoff, bc I loved her very much and she was grateful and happy for the care.
Well, that was a rant.
I think I needed to HAVE that rant.
Thank you for the push, though you weren't trying to push, I realize. I want you to know HOps and bean I'm not upset at you in any way. I'm grateful for the chance to ponder what's been upsetting me about that subject.... and it's popped up for me in a magical way in another area of my life, so this is my time to deal with it.
This is my chance to take it out, drop all judgment around it and really SEE what's there, underneath it.
Thank you.
Lighter
