So.. yeah. My therapist wants me to set personal boundaries and value them more than I value not rocking the boat. I’m working on it but it’s a bumpy road.
Now, you have to realize, she told me this MONDAY… 2 days ago.
The first boundary I set was with my mom. She’s FOREVER jumping into my conversations with Shecky. When I correct him she butts in and either circumvents what I’m trying to get across to him or completely goes the opposite direction with, “It’s okay Baby.” or something similar. This. Makes. Me. INSANE.
Don’t get me wrong. I do NOT have issues with her correcting my son. I APPRECIATE the help when it is something I am having difficulty handling or when I’m not around to do the correcting. However, when I am IN THE PROCESS OF HANDLING IT is soooooooo not the time to butt in.
I started Monday night. Now when she starts to jump in I cut her off and tell her firmly but politely, “I’ve got this. Thanks.” I’ve had to employ it SEVERAL times in the last 2 days but it actually works. (Though, the FIRST time I did it she looked like a fish suffocating on the beach heh)
I feel really good about this.
TODAY, I implemented a boundary with my father. Now, those of you not familiar with my father. He’s a bully. He rants and rages at everyone when things aren’t done to his satisfaction or when things don’t go his way or when he drinks too much or… well… you get the idea. He does it in a manner that is very demeaning and off putting. Mom’s way of handling it has always been to walk on egg shells. It keeps the number of explosions down. When he DOES explode… well… she is bullied and cowers and backs down. Anything to make him stop.
I learned this behavior from her. It’s how I’VE dealt with him for 40 years. I usually end up feeling hurt, bruised and less…
Today, he exploded. So did I. I told him I was NOT my mother and was NOT going to stand for being spoken to and treated like I was less than human. I was NOT going to be talked to like I was less than a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe. OMG… yeah… he went into OVERDRIVE (or as I called it in my mind earlier.. OGREDRIVE). He started with “Listen to me, Little Girl…” and he got NO further. I was NOT going to let him bully me into a corner and diminish me by calling me “little girl”. I cut him off with, “No, YOU listen to ME. I may live in this house for now but I DO NOT have to take this and I’m not going to. I’m DONE.” At that point, he left the room rather… angrily.
He’s barely spoken to me today. When he HAS, it’s been in a barely civil manner. Greeeeeat.
Know what? It still felt good to stand up for myself. It felt good not to be cowed or bullied by him.
Life in this house may be VERY uncomfortable for the rest of my stay but things are going to change…. Oh… yeah… they are.
