Mulitple Choice

Where were we? Ah yes, all gone to bed on Friday night after pleasant evenings all round happy and cheery and lovely. So Saturday morning dawned and while I was in the bedroom packing last minute stuff for our few nights away the kids were upstairs doing the same. Scarlett came in and I asked her to make sure Granny knew where the food for Humphrey was so she could feed and water him. Scarlett reminded me we’d not cleaned him out yet despite the book saying to clean them out once a week but I said it was fine and we’d do it when we got back as we’d done tidying in his cage through the week anyway. I then heard some raised voices from upstairs but by the time I’d turned the radio down Mum had thundered down the stairs. I overheard her snarling at Dad something about the hamster and went through to the kitchen where Davies said to me ‘Granny is shouting at Scarlett about the hamster not being cleaned out.’ Scarlett was there and said ‘Granny says Humphrey stinks and she shouldn’t be left to deal with him’ so I said ‘ok let’s clean him out then’ and set off with Tarly to fetch the cage and clean it out, all very calmly and cheerfully. It should be said that at least twice in the last week Tarly has attempted to show Mum how to feed, water etc the hamster and each time has been firmly rebuffed so had given up. This in direct contrast to Davies’ every move being of huge interest and worthy of applause and cheering.

As we walked through the house to gather the hamster Mum reappeared, in a total rage and started shouting at Scarlett about how it wasn’t fair that she was being left to deal with the hamster and Scarlett was supposed to be looking after it and she wasn’t doing it properly etc. all with finger firmly wagging in Scarlett’s very surprised face. I stepped between them and stated fairly calmly that Scarlett had done nothing wrong and she should not be being told off, we were about to go and clean out the hamster and it was fine. She carried on shouting, directing it at Tarly and continuing with finger wagging at which point I may have been less calm in asking her not to talk to Scarlett like that and to get her finger out of her face. She then threw her hands up in the air (rather a trademark of hers) and with pure hatred on her face snarled something about not being able to deal with all this.

I don’t have many points of weakness. I drink far too much, I go to bed far too late, I get up far too late, I swear too much and I am far too flippant. I do have a temper. I can blame this on inherited mental health issues from my Mother, rage issues from my Father, a tempering balance to the calm loveliness of Ady or my hair colour. Or I can simply take full responsibility for not always managing to keep a lid on my temper. I don’t lose it very often at all. When I do I always, always, without fail let myself down. I swear, I am threatening with an element of violence about me, I am likely to say things I regret / don’t even remember afterwards / hurt the person I say them to forever. But I do try really hard not to let it happen. And these days it is only really lost in defence of others – mostly Ady, Davies and Scarlett although I do have friends I love very much who would bring out the same protective tendancies in me too.

So I lost it and instead of continuing with the plan to clean out the cage, finish packing up and leave them to it I called after her ‘You’re fucking mental’. See, swearing, temper, truth, forever afterwards hurt. All in three easy words.

And of course she didn’t just take this. She followed me screaming, continuing to terrify Davies and Scarlett who simply have never witnessed such behaviour, certainly not directed at or coming from people they love. I quite speedily went from lost temper to menacing and lowered my voice, my tone and all of my principles. I don’t actually remember what I said although Scarlett tells me I called her a ‘mad old woman’ which would have been like stabbing and twisting – challenging both her mental health and her age is chucking the two things she is most touchy about in the world both at once. I have said before that I don’t want to lose my temper with people because I do wipe the floor with them and it is impossible to ever recover from that. I suspect I would have used the full armoury with her as this has been bubbling ever since we came home, and possibly for my entire life. I honestly don’t actually remember everything I said, I do know that pushing her down the stairs (we were stood on the landing) fleetingly crossed my mind so I suspect I had long since turned off any internal censor on my words.

The upshot was she told me to get out, to leave, to not come back. I do remember asking if she was sure that was what she wanted? To throw her daughter and grandchildren out, to let us leave and warning her she would bitterly regret it. As ever she closed the door and hid from the argument, what she does not want to do is actually see through the consequences of her actions.

So the kids packed extra clothes and we did clean out the cage which totally did not stink anyway and Mum went out, having spoken to Dad who failed to pacify her. I cried. Lots. No one quite knew what to do with that – Scarlett said she’d never seen me cry so much, Ady tried to tell me it would all be alright, Dad was all philosophical with lots of ‘everyone has said things that were better left unsaid’ and Frazer who came home after it had all happened didn’t really know what to do or say. I told my Dad we would be back to collect our things but would not be staying again and with hugs to Dad and Frazer we left. I told Dad that while I’d never expect an apology I also would not be the one to make the first move and left him with an anniversary card for today and a rather soggy shoulder.

As ever friends completely came through for us and within minutes we had offers of places to stay, support and love. I can’t quite articulate how very much that all means, so I won’t try and I’ll simply say thank you.

I spent most of the drive up to Marcus and Michelle’s crying and currenly feel emotionally wrung out. I have no real idea how to frame this, I know I was wrong for what I said, I know that I was wrong in my way of dealing with her – I lived there for enough years to know not to bait the tiger but to hide but I also know that listening to her berate Scarlett took me back to the little girl I once was who was made to feel rubbish about herself by my Mum and there is no way anyone is ever doing that to my daughter. I forgive my Mum for so much, I always have done. I have been lowering my expectations of her since I was old enough to have any. She has consistently let me down at times throughout my life when I needed her to the point where I have conditioned myself simply not to need her anymore. She had a chance these few weeks to love me and my family, to take us in and look after us, to be a mother. To make us feel at home, to feel loved and wanted and I think she blew it. She made us feel unwelcome, a nusiance, an inconvenience. She was happy for us to cook her for every night but to criticise what we cooked, to let us use rooms in her house but to sneer at the way we used them, we were not allowed to use the washing machine, the oven, their towels or bedding. The children were too noisy, too messy, too childish. She has let her relationship with my Dad cloud every other relationship she has and my judgement is clouded to such a point I have no real idea whether I am right or wrong anymore but self preservation and , protection of my own family wins out over everything else and for that reason I have no idea where her and I go from here but it won’t be with a return to her house on Wednesday to subject myself to it anymore. I am at my worst in her company, I live up to all the crappy expectations she has of me and in only a few weeks she has turned me from somone who had the best year of my life to someone who feels useless, homeless, a crap daughter, wife and mother and a character so vile she would shout with hatred and violent intent at the very woman who gave her life. That is not who I want to be.