I got up yesterday morning, unexpectedly faced with dealing with the latest in a long-standing dysfunctional issue with a family member, and I handled it with quick sharp efficiency and a piss-poor attitude. I acted out of pure frustration. By the time all was said and done, I was, by turns, alternately withdrawn and effusively cranky about the whole experience; tired of only able to be a relative of convenience/inconvenience, or alternatively, the family Elvis sighting.
I am tired of all the familial dysfunction. I know it is not likely to end. I am frustrated with both the dysfunction and the choices the families involved have made, that land us where we are. I know I did not cause the problems, for they are rooted in things that took place before I was born. I know I can't do anything about the problems, for they aren't mine to fix.
I vented the latest situation, along with my feeling and opinions about it, with one of my closest friends. My friend, never known as one who minces words, commented to me that while I was absolutely not the cause, nor the cure, I am part of the problem.
He went in to clue me in as to exactly what my contribution was, because I was clueless on top of speechless. How could I be a part of a dysfunctional pattern that I didn't cause, am not responsible for, and can't cure?
It turns out, that the dysfunctional dance I'm in, has patterns. In that pattern, my response to an initial dysfunction, means that I typically get quiet, preparatory to politely excusing myself from the scene, which, all these years, I thought was the most functional thing I could possibly do.
If basically quiet and polite doesn't work, getting excessively quiet and polite when faced with behavior that crosses certain lines of propriety, isn't going to work, either. It also doesn't make sense to the people around them that are also locked into thier own pattern of dysfunction.
Getting quiet, polite, and withdrawn doesn't get people to stop doing what they are doing. They don't see it as a 'danger, do not cross' signal. Getting quiet and polite, in actuality, teaches people that they are doing the right things. People who are taught that they are doing the right things will continue to do what they think are the right things. They will have no idea that they are crossing some sort of line, and that I am losing, or have lost patience with them entirely, until I either walk away, or scream at them, for doing what they thought was the right thing. Then they wonder why I'm hurt, angry or withdrawn, conclude that I am the strange one, go back to their dysfunction, and the dance continues. No one gets what they want, or need, and the cycle eventually begins again.
What I learned in that conversation, in addition to my friend being pretty much spot-on, is that I have to learn to stand firmly with my own boundaries, and how to state them more calmly at the outset, which will, he expects, make people understand where I stand. He says it might make things better, or, it might get me cut from the family entirely. But at least I would have finally said my peice.
After that chat, I had a long think about that, and had to admit that he was pretty much spot-on. My issue with him suggesting I tart drawing lines with my family, is that I don't want to have to keep practicing anything concerning boundaries with people I'm related to, who are well past the age of two.
There are limits to my patience and my boundaries, and they've been beaten on without mercy already. I have doubts that actually expressing this to my family, is going to do any good.
What I feel I can do, on the other hand, is to practice this boundary-setting and speaking up stuff with friends and anyone I might be in romantic relationship with in the future.
So, I think he and I are going to have more chats about this. Could be very..illuminating.
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