Author Topic: Mosquitoes  (Read 1706 times)

October

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Mosquitoes
« on: September 13, 2005, 01:26:46 PM »
C and I made it safely to the wedding and home again.  NMum and dad return today.  There is too much to tell about it all - but perhaps a place to start is with mosquitoes.

Before we went, I bought antihistamine and tropical strength mosquito spray. I also made sure C and I took long sleeved clothes and long skirts or trousers.  We travelled three days after my parents.

When we arrived I found my Nmum covered with nasty scabs on her legs, from mosquito bites that had got infected.  She had treated them with calamine lotion, but had no repellant, and no antihistamine.  She has been to Dhaka before, and also travelled to Guyana.  The same thing happens to her each time.  So, of course, she took no precautions whatever.   :?  How do these people's minds work????????

She used the antihistamine I gave her, and she said it helped immediately, but later I saw her rubbing it in really vigorously, instead of gently dabbing it on, causing the wounds to open and - well, enough information I think.

Basically this became her Leitmotiv for the visit; how the mosquitoes attack her and nobody else (because I insisted on C and myself having repellant on every visible inch, and on spraying our room each night) and how bad the reaction is.  Eventually one leg got infected and she had to see a doctor and get medication against the reaction, and then she seemed much happier.  On that day we all 'knew' she was too ill to go to the reception that evening, until half an hour beforehand when she made a miraculous recovery, and pronounced herself willing to go.   :lol:

I don't want to sound heartless, because these really are nasty creatures, but there are things we can do to prevent the worst, which she seemed incapable or unwilling to try, or if she used them she did so in an ineffective way; not using enough or not remembering in time.  My dad said things like 'well, I don't know if the repellant works or not ...' when there was clear evidence that it did.  Evidence that in 2 weeks C and I only got one bite each.  But it was never about us.  Always about her.

The wedding services themselves were long, and tiring, but very exotic and interesting.  There was the by now to be expected dying swan scene with the doting mother as the bride and groom take their leave, and I felt so cynical to stand aside and watch her doing it, with that almost authentic but not quite buckling of the knees at the crucial moment, and having to be led away in tears.  Sometimes I feel very heartless indeed. 

I am sure there is authentic feeling somewhere within all of this, but it is always centered on her own needs and her own feelings, never able to project outwards and think, how can I best help x or y in this situation.  It seems to always verge on hysteria and panic, and need constant reassurance.  My mother is really nothing more or less than an overgrown spoiled toddler, seeking out opportunities for a tantrum.  And I am the archetypal parentified child; used by everyone for support, without ever being acknowledged, or thanked, and apparently invisible.

I cooked English meals for my parents because they won't eat foreign food.  I was the only person who could work out how to use the washing machine.  I spent hours - days in fact - waiting around for other people, who promised to arrive to take me places, but somehow never turned up.  My one wish for the trip - to see a village outside the city and how the people there live - never happened.  And now I am home my brother is referring people to me when they ask what he wants for wedding presents, because I know his kitchen better than he or his new wife.   :?

Which really shows how heartless I am.  Except I think love is giving someone antihistamine and mosquito repellant when they need it, and encouraging them to use it every day.  And washing the towels from the bathroom every 2 days.  To me, love is what you do, not how often you crumple into tears or go weak at the knees when a video camera is watching. 

To end on a lighter note, I have never before attended a wedding, accompanied the bride and groom to their honeymoon suite and had my picture taken sitting on the bed with them, before leaving them to their wedding night.  That had to be the most surreal experience of all!!!!!!   :lol: :lol: :lol:
« Last Edit: September 13, 2005, 01:39:11 PM by October »

Brigid

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #1 on: September 13, 2005, 03:48:28 PM »
October,
Sounds like quite the experience.  In the end were you glad that you went?  Did C have a good time?  Your mom obviously behaved as expected, finding new and exotic ways to get attention.  I'm sorry that you didn't get to have the one adventure you longed for and were once again the only responsible adult.  But I hope that you enjoyed the time with C in such an interesting location.  I always find that experiencing things for the first time with my children to be very special moments.

I wonder where the family photo on the nuptual bed will eventually end up? :?

Welcome home.

Brigid

amethyst

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #2 on: September 13, 2005, 04:57:15 PM »
(((October)))

I loved your post. You wrote so well that I could actually see what happened. I hope you are not offended, but you had me chuckling in recognition of some of the family dramas that I used to go through with my parents and my ex...and getting angry when you said you were kept waiting for people that broke promises. It's all too familiar. 

Good for you for taking care of yourself and recognizing your mother's particular form of "insanity." Also good for you for being so loving despite the PITA moves your mom made. (Translation: PITA=Pain in the ass) I don't know what there is about that lack of self care and planning, but it just freakin' drives me up the wall....especially when the self-neglectful person goes into full blown flaming martyrdom. I get very triggered by that. Of course, I was a parentified kid too...a little kid in a grey flannel suit.

You are absolutely right. Love is action, not scenes of the "dying swan." 

I hope you had a good time anyway. I'm sorry you didn't get to see an outlying village and that people didn't keep their promises.

Hugs,

Amethyst

miss piggy

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #3 on: September 13, 2005, 08:47:20 PM »
Welcome back, October!

Your mother sounds like my Nfather at this stage of the game: he would much much much rather have the drama and attention than the cure for whatever ails him.  He is addicted to medical attention.  You should see how excited he gets when he has a real medical problem, like winning a small lottery prize.

I do not think you are being heartless at all.  You seem very pragmatic and are not so easily manipulated by her performances any more.  Your comment about love reminded me of the 5 languages of love book.  Have you seen that?  different people respond to different kinds of love: quality time, physical affection, words of endearment, acts of service, and gifts.  my H is definitely an acts of service kinda guy.  And he gives lots in return. My Nfather loves 'quality' time, words, service service service.  quality time means spending all your time doing those acts of service.  how fun for the other person. 

I'm glad you and C made it back OK.  It sounds like you survived somehow, which I think is what you were hoping for.  Hugs, MP


CeeMee

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #4 on: September 14, 2005, 02:11:05 AM »
Great writing October.  You captured the moment for us.  Please excuse me too while I giggle through some of those scenes.  Why is it that N mothers resemble characters from TV sitcoms. No you are NOT heartless.  You are just stating the truth and it ain't always pretty. Did you ever get a chance to read Tiffany's posts.  She hasn't been on the board for a while, but she too could tell a great story.  I miss her posts, but I'll be looking for yours.  They bring a humorous slant to the ugly trait of N.

CeeMee

October

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #5 on: September 14, 2005, 01:52:48 PM »
Thanks all!! ((((((hugs))))) It is so good to be home!!!  I could have logged on from my brother's laptop while we were away, but he is very computer literate, and I didn't want to leave any kind of history trail that he could later come across by accident.  I don't think he would do it maliciously at all, but this place is very private to me, so I decided not to risk it.

Thanks for all your comments.  Yes, I think I am glad I went.  I am glad I saw what life is like in Bangladesh, and the extremes of rich and poor (of course we counted among the super-rich for 2 weeks.)  We saw men, women  and children sitting beside the road in 30C heat breaking bricks to be used in roadbuilding, because there is no hardcore.  We saw maimed and blind and other disabled people begging for pennies in the streets.  We saw women carrying babies (and were told these babies are sometimes hired for the day) and begging in the streets.  We saw children offering to wash the windscreen of the car for the equivalent of 1 or 2 pence.

We saw rickshaw drivers who work so hard for so long that no doctor will treat them, and who sleep on the pavements if they cannot afford a dormitory for the night.  Everyone treated the rickshaw as an experience that you just have to have if you visit, but I couldn't get into one.  Partly because of the agoraphobia, but partly because my dad said that he tried to pedal one once and he couldn't move it, and they are driven miles each day.  There may be over 600,000 of them in Dhaka alone.  They are hired out to the drivers by masters, who take most of the money, leaving them with a pittance to survive on.

It made me think of them as an instrument of torture rather than of transportation, and I was unwilling to ride in one, even just for a short journey.  That is probably stupid, but there you are.   

Another day we went to an outdoor pool and saw people bathing fully dressed, in true Moslem fashion, and joined in with them.  That counts as the second most bizarre experience.   :lol: :lol: :lol: 

But strangely enough, I started out much more positive towards Moslems than I ended up after this holiday, to be honest.  I am not sure that all this apparent modesty and covering up does anything other than to eroticise the whole female form, and create a barrier towards understanding for both sides.  However, that is an outside view, and I don't mean to offend any Moslems here.  But one Danish lady who lives out there told me something very revealing during the first reception; she said look at their shoes.  And sure enough, the younger ladies, with saris or shalwar kameez clothing which is meant to reflect modesty, wear shoes that would only be worn here by streetwalkers.  It was really strange to see, and once I started to look, these 5 inch heel stilletoes were everywhere!!

I am pleased I went, and I am pleased that Charlie has these memories to remember forever, as well as some lovely new clothes and shoes etc.  It was not easy, but I used the tranquillisers from my GP to cope with the flights - actually I could have done with enough for the rest of the holiday too,  :lol: :lol:.

Mum and dad are home now as well.  The UK reception is on Saturday, so that will be the last of the celebrations for this particular wedding.

Charlie's tutor came today, and she starts school again tomorrow, so I am hoping that will not be too bad.  It is awful having to face all that again, after a holiday relatively free from school stresses.  Oh well ...  Meanwhile her thyroid treatment is going well, and everything is on track there.

Time for counting blessings, I think ...

One more episode from my mum.  I had cooked dinner for my parents, while they slept in their air conditioned room.  I was very hot and bothered, because the kitchen was very small, and not well equipped.  Afterwards mum went straight back to her room again, while dad came to say how much he appreciated the meal (bless him, he tries!!).  So I said I would have appreciated some help, and would it be too much for mum to peel just one potato to help, and he said she daren't, because she is frightened of me.   :shock: :shock:

So there you are.  Perpetrator stealing victim status, and me cast into villain role for being capable and not letting everyone starve.  Twilight zone stuff.

After that day I stopped cooking.  I opened tins and let them make sandwiches.   :lol: :lol: :lol:

Several days later dad told me that mum had said to him that she had not seen me eat anything since we had arrived.  I said to dad I am 44 years old and perfectly capable of making sure I eat what I need to when I need to.  And if mum has anything to say, she should say it to me, not to you.  Which again got the same response; she daren't, she is afraid of you.

How to twist reality and steal sympathy in one easy lesson.  Anathematise your own daughter, in order to play the martyred mother.   :lol:  (Actually, it isn't funny, but I will laugh anyway.) :lol: :lol:

miss piggy

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #6 on: September 14, 2005, 02:54:25 PM »
Hello October,

Just time for a quick note: your mother being 'scared' of you reminds me of my most malicious relative.  The strategy is very much like two kids fighting behind mother's back.  One kid (the sneaky mean one) will start by slugging the other, or taunting the other, or however they choose to provoke and torment.  This is timed so that the other kid will hit back/defend himself when mother turns back around to wonder what's going on.  The one who is angry will get in trouble.  Sneaky mean one will pretend to be innocent, all wideeyed and hurt, saying why did you do that?  This happened over and over and now she has taken her beefs up with the neighbors since we won't play any more.  If she hates us so much, she should be relieved to be rid of us right? 

If your mother is scared of you, (sheesh) it is probably because she knows that you have her number.  Many Ns I know are petrified of that.  And I'm so glad they are.  MP

Sela

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #7 on: September 14, 2005, 03:14:31 PM »
Hi October:

Glad you had some enriching experiences and made it there and back in one piece.  Good for you!

Re the cooking:  I think I might have done the exact same thing only worse....not even opened a tin.  I may have made sure my child and I ate and casually asked mum what she was planning on getting for her and dad?  Or worse  :shock:, I might have, save us, suggested that it was mum's turn to get the meal.  Bet that would have gone over like a ton of bricks eh?

Good you didn't slave over any more meals for sure!

Glad you can laugh at their silliness.

 :D Sela

CeeMee

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #8 on: September 15, 2005, 02:00:38 AM »
Great description of your visit.  Wow, you are brave to venture into a place so different from your own.  I travel to places that have extreme poverty also.  I avoid the tourist traps and get right in the heart of the city or town. It is always an eye opening experience and so very little shocks me any more.  Katrina wasn't a shock in terms of the devastation but rather for the fact that it happened here on our soil. 

When I return home, I always have such a greater appreciation for the life I have here in the US.  It pains me to think that it is probably at the expense of many of those living below poverty levels throughout the world.

Just a quick comment about "momma drama."  Once I decided to stop playing the drama game, I actually started to have fun with it.  This may be how I nurtured my N traits though.  My heart hardened to the point where I stopped feeling any guilt or obligation if I didn't respond as expected to manipulation.  I learned to laugh at the drama that was played out before me ie. the crying or dying swan scene.   I learned to turn the tables.  For example, in your situation, I wouldn't have been cooking, I'd have been eating and then have left the dishes for her to clean.  In my mind, this wasy payback and I had no problem doling it out. 

So I guess I agree with Miss P. that Fear is a sign that she has lost ground or the one up position.  This may be a good thing.  From fear can develop respect or at least some semblence of it. 

CeeMee

October

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Re: Mosquitoes
« Reply #9 on: September 15, 2005, 04:40:21 AM »
Great description of your visit.  Wow, you are brave to venture into a place so different from your own.  I travel to places that have extreme poverty also.  I avoid the tourist traps and get right in the heart of the city or town. It is always an eye opening experience and so very little shocks me any more.  Katrina wasn't a shock in terms of the devastation but rather for the fact that it happened here on our soil. 

So I guess I agree with Miss P. that Fear is a sign that she has lost ground or the one up position.  This may be a good thing.  From fear can develop respect or at least some semblence of it. 

CeeMee

Not sure if it is bravery or an inability to say 'no.'  Perhaps a bit of both.

I am pleased we went, and I am pleased that C discovered that she is a born flier.  As for the rest, well, I will keep the good bits and throw the rest into the bin where it deserves to be.

I think you are right that my mum does have some kind of respect for me.  There is a lot of resentment and confusion too, but a lot of something else.  I think in her mind she confuses me with her mother a lot, which means that at the point of extreme hysteria, when nobody else can reach her, I can often get straight through to her with very straight talking.  This has not happened for a while, mostly because I keep away from the whole family dynamic as much as I can, but it is still there.

For example, just as we were about to set off home I made a quiet comment about not wanting any fuss, because we were seeing everyone again in a few days.  So, guess what?  No dying swan scene for our departure.   :lol:  And thinking forward into the future, if C said such a thing to me, I would reply, what do you mean, no fuss?  I am your mother, and I am allowed to make a fuss!!  And I would hug her anyway.   :lol: :lol:

Which reminds me <shudder> when I took them to the airport I had to touch them both.  First time for mum in about 20 years, and it was not nice.  She grabbed onto me and gripped my arms with both her hands, digging her nails in like claws, and held on tight for ages - well, it seemed like ages.  Then she let go.  I asked C if she 'hugs' her like this, and she said yes.  What is that about???  Anyway, not going to allow that again!!!