Boundaries WHY SO HARD

[grammarwoman]

I've had a tab open for a couple of weeks now, referred to by a Captain Awkward post about friends up for the same job, which linked to this Twitter post about boundaries:

What do boundaries feel like?

- It is not my job to fix others.
- It is okay if others get angry.
- It is okay to say no.
- It is not my job to take responsibility for others.
- I don’t have to anticipate the needs of others.
- It is my job to make me happy.
- Nobody has to agree with me.
- I have a right to my own feelings.

And I realized all over again how bad I am at boundaries. I mean, as a mom and wife, I kinda feel like half of those statements don't really apply to those relationships? But maybe they do! Basically, the thought of having to agree with and internalize any to all of those freaks me the hell out.

Guess what brought this to mind? You win a genuine No-Prize if any of your first three answers were my mother, one of the people who helped install most of those anxiety buttons. She called last night to ask if I could join them in visiting my brother this weekend, because she thinks he doesn't have much time left. Sure, I said, but I have to check with the family.

So when I stopped to peruse my mental calendar, I realized that I had promised the kid he could have a sleepover this weekend; he's been asking for a month now, and the timing has just not worked out. So that's doable, it just means leaving later on Saturday. But then I realized I had another thing I wanted to do Saturday afternoon, and then. Then my brain locked up. Because in the grand scheme of things, the thing I want to do is fluff and entertainment and escapism, but it's something I've been planning on doing since I first heard about it months ago. I could do a shortened version of the thing, an hour or so, and that would put me at my brother's place around dinner time.

The internal critic that speaks with my mother's voice started screaming at me right about then, about how could I put other things in front of my family when my brother is dying, and what kind of an asshole does that? My husband, bless him, tried to absolve me of the guilt when I laid the situation out in front of him, and said I could and should do the thing anyway, and then get on the road. My brain was having none of it, and wouldn't even let me get to sleep until hours past my regular bedtime.

So here I sit, guts churning and brain locked about a simple fucking phone call where I say, "Sure, Mom, I'll be there, but it will be around dinnertime instead of the afternoon." I have written and trashed a bunch of mental scripts (with many thanks to Captain Awkward and her amazing words), trying to steel myself to sit firm with my decision.

Wish me luck and strength. (And as always, fuck cancer.)

Comments

[catwalksalone]

Good luck. You can do this. Besides, doing the thing you want to do is more likely to put you in the positive headspace you need to see your brother and be there for him.

*bracing hugs*

[grammarwoman]

That is so very welcome and necessary to hear. Thank you! *HUGS*

[kass]

Oh my dear, I am sorry this is so hard.

I think the "what do boundaries feel like?" list is an ideal in almost every situation -- and, especially as a parent, I struggle with parts of it (especially I don’t have to anticipate the needs of others -- I do feel like it's my job to anticipate my kid's needs, but I think that as he grows up, I'm going to need to wean myself off of doing that, to give him space to grow into doing that anticipating-of-needs for himself.)

Taking care of yourself is important. That includes giving yourself some fluff / escapism on Saturday afternoon. I totally support you in saying "Sure, Mom, I'll be there, but around dinnertime instead of in the afternoon." Would saying it via an email be easier than doing it via voice?

I hug you up.

[grammarwoman]

Somehow I knew you'd feel me on this. *wry grin*

These are wise and true comments, and I appreciate hearing them. I'm trying to raise a dude with good boundaries, as are you, and boy, can it be trying some days.

Thank you most sincerely. *HUGS*

[misbegotten]

I think kass said it better than I could. But sending all my love.

[grammarwoman]

She is good at that, isn't she? Thanks for the support. <3

[ghost_lingering]

<3<3<3<3

I believe in you, you can do it! If it's helpful, one way I try to frame things in my head is: I am a member of my family and I need to put myself first in order to be able to help other family; I am a friend of mine, I need to put myself first in order to be a good friend to others; I am my own co-worker etc. Doing a fun thing you've been planning is putting yourself first so that you are better able to be there for your loved ones later.

[grammarwoman]

That totally needs to go in the mental rolodex. It's right up there with "if you wouldn't say that to a friend, why would you say it to yourself?" (aka SHUT UP JUDGEY INNER VOICE.)

Thank you! <3

[the_shoshanna]

I do indeed wish you luck and strength, and I'm glad your husband has your back. You deserve time and things that make you happy, just as your kid does. Kass and g_l are wise, and I echo everything they said.

[grammarwoman]

:D I love everyone in this very supportive bar! Thank you.

[aurumcalendula]

Wishing you luck and strength (and seconding what everyone has said in the comments)

[grammarwoman]

Thank you for the encouragement! :)

[umadoshi]

Much sympathy and support. *hugs*

[grammarwoman]

*HUGS* Thank you!

[staranise]

I think that kind of like bodily autonomy, boundaries with a kid are meant to be a little porous when they're small; as they grow up, the two of you learn to un-merge as they grow more and more autonomous.

But I wish you the best of luck with your mother. I'd volunteer to help, but I don't think a muffled stranger's voice on the phone telling her, "Your daughter isn't coming this weekend," would help matters at all.

[grammarwoman]

Heh - at least my kid knows that my #1 wish for him is that he grows up to be a happy, independent, capable adult, even if that means I have to be "UGH, the worst!"

The offers of assistance are greatly appreciated, and I am laughing helplessly at how BADLY that would go for me. As it is, I did it, and she was indeed disappointed, and the fallout remains to be seen, but I am not the boss of her feelings.

[romantical]

Ugh. So hard. YOu do what's best for you. I know it's hard with what's going on with your brother, but you also have to take time for you. We all (especially moms) have a tendency to put ourselves last, and there's a point where you just need to say, "NO. ME."

Cancer sucks. ILU.

[grammarwoman]

SING IT! I'm tallying up my past several weekends, and damn, they've been high on hustle and bustle and low on relaxation.

ILU2! *HUGS*

[havocthecat]

Good luck. Boundaries are hard. If it gets really bad, maybe you can get your husband to sit with you while you do it.

I mean, honestly, you're not saying, "No! I will not go and see my dying brother!"

You're saying, "I will go and see my dying brother, but I also have to make sure that I can take care of myself because I deserve that, and I have to take care of my family, because they deserve that."

It's also okay to put yourself first sometimes. Even with a dying family member. Your long-term psychological health is important, and this is going to take a while to grieve your way through. Take some time for yourself now. It's important.

I'm sure your mom wants to feel supported too, but sometimes the best you can do is (maybe) suggest that she find some other source of emotional support for that point in time before you get there.

Or if you're feeling really bad, maybe send random flowers some other time (after your boundary setting, another day, with a clear and distinct event between, because you deserve to set those!) just because. I did that once after a bad fight my mom and I had when Dad first received his terminal diagnosis. There was no way around that fight and there was no good answer. No one was in the wrong. So I just sent flowers because it was a shitty time and I knew it.

[grammarwoman]

The husband did give me a "Go sweetie go!" pep talk before and after I did it. He's a good egg.

But it was awkward and painful, because there were details she hadn't shared with me (like they meant for it to be a day trip and not overnight), and she was disappointed (but muted because they had company), and now I'm waiting for the fallout. *sigh*

I just...feel like my grief ranks below hers? Because I stop to ponder what I would be feeling like if I were in her position, and it's a yawning chasm of awful. Whereas my relationship with my brother has never been particularly close, so, yeah. Complicated feelings are complicated.

The flowers are an excellent idea. I should totally investigate that.

Thank you for the advice and the support!

[havocthecat]

Of course it's a yawning chasm of awful, but you can't control her emotions and you still have to make sure that her emotions don't swamp your entire family - and your son deserves to have a normal childhood and not be overwhelmed by a tidal wave of grandparental grief.

If your mom had shared all the information with you, then maybe you would've made a different decision. Or not. You don't know, because you didn't have the info. She didn't share it, and her withholding information - which maybe was an accident, or maybe was her assuming that you'd just fall into line, either way, it doesn't matter why she did it just that she screwed up - meant you didn't have a full slate of information to plan with.

It's not your fault you didn't have all the information. You can only plan with the data you have and you can't feel guilty for planning based off what you knew.

Okay, "can't," maybe not the case. Shouldn't, anyway. Guilt is hard and complex, as much as grief!

Also, sibling grief doesn't rank below parental grief. There's no "ranking" grief. Grief is grief. It's maybe different for different relationships, but that's okay.

My Aunt K. is still, to this day, dissolving in tears about my dad, that's how close they were (and when we thought dad would die, 18 years ago, Aunt A. threw herself across Dad on the hospital stretcher, literally-not-figuratively), and my mom is stoic and never cries, but she grieves just as much, and my husband had one single sob, but he misses my dad as much as he would a father. My brother pretended he didn't grieve, and-- Well, I have issues with him, but suddenly he wants to be close to family again. But it's all grief and it's all valid, even if it's all felt and expressed differently.

(And I hope the flowers work. Honestly, I love ordering flowers for people for surprise deliveries.)

[grammarwoman]

You have so many good points here, and such wise advice and support. I will have to take many deep breaths and work my way through this. Thank for sharing it all! *HUGS*