Paw In A Trap
2009-12-09, 8:57 a.m.
I was watching Moonstruck the other day. Remember the part where Cher tells Nicolas Cage that he didn't have an accident, he was a wolf chewing off his paw to escape a trap?
I've also read Long Live The Queen, a book in which, well...this subject comes up. It disturbed the crap out of me when I read it at the time, I've never reread the book. And reading its long-awaited sequel, Long May She Reign, was a real gut-wrencher.
So, yesterday was Shrink Appointment Day. I alternate between phone sessions and in-person sessions (long story), and it's pretty obvious that phone session days are my crappier ones, where I get nowhere and just end up whining and ranting. And yesterday was a phone one.
I have actually been in a pretty good mood in general of late, but talking about how Thanksgiving went was a real downer. I don't know what the hell to do to keep my mother occupied at Christmas since we've got nobody inviting us anywhere and her friends are leaving town and god knows we can't mingle her with my friends. We can't go anywhere far enough away and distracting. I can't think of an alternative to her sitting at home crying for 48 hours worth a damn. I wish "go to Hawaii" was an option. Well, go anywhere that isn't in northern California. But in the recession, hah.
My shrink was all, "That's not your job to take care of her," but uh, how is it not? She's my spouse and child all at once, not exactly all mentally there what with the widowhood and all, and there's no way out of it. My shrink is all, "You can choose to do things differently," which mostly boiled down to, "You don't have to sit in the house with her while she cries," but I can't think of anything. Yeah, sure, theoretically I could say, "Toodles, Mom, I'm going elsewhere for Christmas without you, byeee!", but then I'd be paying the price of the crying and the bitching about it until she dies (and her side of the family is long-lived). Which isn't worth it, so I don't do anything. It doesn't matter how sweetly and nicely I say it, as opposed to flat out "Outta here, biyotch," it all comes across as total abandonment, and she's already got too much of that going on. I won't enjoy myself because I know I'll get punished for it later. Sadly, she won't see a shrink or take meds or do anything to help herself. I am stuck with dealing with her as she is.
You know how it goes. Same old, same old. Said it here a billion times, every December.
But what it really boils down to is, I would have to hurt her, hard and bad, in her sorest spot, to get out of the trap. And I am not willing to do that. Can't live with myself if I do afterwards, even if I'm "free." Hah. There is no freedom around here.