I have a sneaking fear that I am a drama addict. If you knew my family, you'd find me to be not nearly as dramatic as some. I always thought of myself as a bit of the voice of reason in my family. A sometimes temperamental voice of reason, but still - pragmatic, counselling for forgiveness. But, but, but... sometime over this little period of time where I was diagnosed with and treated for cancer, I realized how complicit I am in the drama that sucks the life and joy out of my family.
Some in my family have drama filled, chaotic lives rife with problems, challenges and tales of victimization. I tried to help, but those efforts just cost me and backfired. I tried to protect my parents from some of the drama - another futile and costly attempt. And, so I withdrew, enough to be safe, to be above the fray. I was just going to do my best to be as kind as possible without getting sucked into hurtful and silly arguments and exchanges.
I was on a bit of a high horse about how well I managed to stay 'above it all'. But this summer, during my treatment, some in my family found another bit of proof that I was the 'favoured child' and I boiled over in anger. It was good to have something to be angry about, something so much more tangible than the lurking threat of little cancer cells. And, I seethed at their concern with themselves while I suffered through ridiculously hard radiation treatments.
As I started to feel a bit better, and started peeking down from my high horse, I started to feel a bit stupid. After 48 years on the planet, and sisters who have called me every name in the book and then some, how could I possibly justify being angry because they are angry? How can I justify wasting any life energy on grievances that I can't possibly fix? I thought I had changed my part in the play, but did I really?
The cycle is exactly the same as it has always been, a grievance (real or imagined), they lash out, I react, I withdraw, they apologize, and we go around again. When I was 23, my boss in my first real job, asked me to not have my family call me at work because I became too upset and agitated. And, at 48 I allow myself to feel the same way?
If the cycle is the same, then I haven't done a damn thing any different. And, so I decided it was high time that I stop being a partner in the drama. To leave my supporting role in this tragic play.
How did it work out, you may wonder gentle reader? Well, I just failed my first test. Miserably and horribly. We are in the process of clearing out my Dad's house and we all spoke up for what we wanted. My mother's dining set, which had been her mother's before her was to go to me. But I wasn't sure that I wanted it or would even use it. And, said as much. One of my sisters said she wanted it, so that was all good. But a change in her circumstances led to conversations about storing it, about storage lockers and all forms of options.
I felt a tug of responsibility for safeguarding the dining room set, and sent a poorly worded email and am back living in the land of drama. Of my own creation. Doesn't seem that I learned much of anything, except that choosing to not be complicit in drama is a bit harder than it would seem to be!