Hello my friends!
A couple of months ago, an event occurred in my life that has had a ripple effect. It’s taken a while for me to process through the many layers of emotion it brought about. Much like an onion, I’ve had to peel away at it, layer by layer, shedding a few tears along the way. I think I am finally ready to share the experience with you, though I give you fair warning—it’s quite different than most of the cutesy, feel-good things I write.
I’ll spare you all the boring personal details of the “who, what, when and where” and get to the nitty gritty. I set off on a journey, with the intent of doing something nice for someone I am close to. But when I arrived at their home, I found myself in a very uncomfortable— and potentially dangerous— situation. There was a third-party there that evening; someone I have had negative encounters with many times before. Everything in me bristled. I wanted to leave—but my friend begged me to stay. She had planned for us to watch movies and share snacks. She’d really put herself out. Plus, it was her birthday and I hated to disappoint her. So, I fought back the pulsating waves of common sense and settled in for the night.
As the evening progressed, the situation I had been concerned about continued to disintegrate. Before the night was over, I found myself in a life-threatening situation that was completely unacceptable. You see, the “third party” in the home that night is an addict, who had seriously over medicated himself and become a raging lunatic. He was throwing things and cursing up a storm. Seething frustration welled up inside him and bubbled over. About that time, he tore his shirt off, threw it to the ground as if to challenge me. He began beating his chest like a giant, silver-back gorilla. All the while, he was screaming at me to shoot him!
If it sounds like an insane course of events— it was.
So by now, are you probably asking yourself why on earth I would walk into a situation like that? And if I hadn’t known in the beginning it would be like that, why I didn’t leave the moment things started to unravel?! Those are fair questions.
Well, my friends— not all things are clear and simple. We each have a filter we run our experiences through. A clean relationship filter gives us the ability to accurately assess a situation and quickly determine if it meets our relationship criteria. Oh… but a dirty processing filter is like driving a car with a filthy windshield. It blurs our vision, making it virtually impossible to safely navigate the roads of life!
And mine? Well… I have come to realize that my filter —the way I process human interaction—needed a serious cleaning! That’s the only sane explanation. People with healthy boundaries and clearly defined rules of engagement don’t allow themselves to be boxed in to interactions like that. It’s just that simple!
But I wasn’t ready to accept that a few months ago. I just kept pretending that if I tried a little harder, put myself out there a little more, kept pretending things weren’t as bad as they were… well… then eventually, the scene in front of me would change. Now that is the very definition of a dirty filter! I just didn’t want to see it that way…
You see, that raging lunatic— he’s my kid brother. And worse yet? The “friend” who begged me to stay— in spite of how insane the situation had become—she was none other than my elderly mother.
I know. I started off saying that the “who” didn’t matter, but the reality is— it matters. A LOT. Dear friends, you should never have to feel unsafe. EVER. Particularly not in the home of close friends and relatives. They should be your first line of defense; your “go-to” people when you have a need. So yes. The “who” matters. If I can’t face the ugly facts, what kind of a hypocrite would I be to expect more of you?! That’s why I’m bringing this story to light.
When I told my mom that I was uncomfortable staying in the house any longer, she offered a solution—“Go into the bedroom and lock the door. He won’t bother you there!” I was so dumb-founded by her response that I stood there with my mouth wide open but no words would come out. Why on earth would I stay over night in a house that required me to sleep behind locked doors?? My mother grew up in an abusive home. She knows better than to encourage behavior like that.
I remember looking over at my dad, who was standing two feet away from me while this barbaric scene unfolded. He had always been the voice of reason in an otherwise dysfunctional house. I expected him to say something— DO something. But he just stood there, looking down the steps at my brother with the strangest look on his face. I’m not sure what mixture of emotions he was feeling. He didn’t seem consumed with fear. Perhaps, looking back as a parent myself— it was sadness. Despair. Defeat. Hopelessness.
I don’t know because we don’t talk about those kinds of things in my “family of origin”. As a side note here, I want to say that I really like that term, “family of origin”. A psychologist friend of mine gave me that one! I like it because it helps me distinguish between the family I came from (and had no choice in) and the family that I have built and created for myself, as an adult. There is a huge difference— and I make the distinction every chance I get!
I was faced with a really difficult situation that night. It was one I didn’t want and one I did not bring on myself. Yet it forced me to make a choice. I had to ask myself if I was going to deny reality and pretend there was nothing wrong, or… if I was going to take a stand against the insanity that has hoovered over my family of origin for decades.
I took a deep breath. Whatever choice I made, I knew it would be “expensive”. You see, we have an unspoken rule in my family of origin. We don’t speak about dirty things like addiction, especially not when it comes to my brother’s ‘problem’. Breaking the rule makes him “feel bad” and has serious consequences. On the other hand, getting into a physical brawl with my brother, who out weighs me by fifty pounds, probably wouldn’t end well either! What’s a girl to do???
My wild-eyed brother was blocking the front door, still screaming and beating his chest. I had to threaten to call the sheriff before he wised up and cleared my path. It was a call that I was absolutely prepared to make. Thankfully, even as stoned as he was, I guess he could see that. He snarled, bent over to retrieve his shirt and stormed off to another room.
I begged my parents to leave with me, but they refused. They said they couldn’t /wouldn’t leave him like that. If all that wasn’t bad enough, my mother turned on me that night, and screamed nasty things at me for daring to take action against my own brother. I knew the rules! How dare I threaten my brother with consequences for his behavior! I was a guest in her home!! I “had no right to call the sheriff,” she screamed. Didn’t I know that would get him in trouble?! My dad? He stood stoically silent through the entire ordeal. He never said a word. Not one word. To me, that was the worst part of all of it.
Whew! O…….kay now. Where do I go from here??! I’m known the world over as “the Butterfly lady”… the lady who always tries her best to strengthen, encourage, and inspire others through her simple, light hearted analogies. So really— where do I go from here??! This is anything but light hearted!!
Well my friends— this one has been really close to home and painful to write about. But I believe with my whole heart that any experience can birth something useful. My painful life experiences are not exempt from that truth. So, here’s where I’m taking this…
I want to talk to you about Choices. The situation I was in left me with a choice to make. My brother made a choice. My mom made a choice. My dad made a choice. We each made choices that evening. Mine ended with me rushing down the stairs and out the front door as fast as my legs could carry me. I haven’t been back since. My mother has chosen to continue to pretend there isn’t a problem. My father has chosen to remain silent. My brother? He’s chosen to continue to blame everyone but himself for his current life circumstances.
I don’t like the choices they made. I don’t think they were right, or fair, or justified. I don’t even think they were logical or sane! But the only choice I have control over is the one I made. Me. My choice. And I stood firmly and made my choice! My brother wasn’t going to bully me out of my choice. My mother wasn’t going to manipulate me out of my choice. And my father? Even amid grievous disappointment, I was not going to allow his silence to invalidate my value as a daughter or human being. Nor was I going to allow his silence to void my right to feel protected. And I absolutely was not going to allow his silence to quelch my choice.
Friends— I have a saying. It’s kind of crass considering I’m a “conservative, Christian, home-school mom”. (Geeze! I hate boxes SO much!) But the saying—however crass you feel it is— is still entirely true. Ready? Here goes: “So much of the time, people think we have a choice between ‘Good’ and ‘Sucks’. But that’s not always the case. Some times, we simply have to choose between Sucks and Sucks WORSE!” 😛 Was that crass? Probably. It’s also true! 🙂
And that was the case in this situation. I didn’t get to choose between “good”, “better”, “best”. I got to choose between “sucks” and “sucks worse”! 🙁 But at least I was finally brave enough to make a choice!
My choice didn’t change my brother. My choice didn’t wake my parents up. Their world is still every bit as dysfunctional as it was the night this happened. But my choice DID change ME! It kept me safe. It was a step towards establishing healthier boundaries in my relationships. It drew a line in the sand and clearly delineated what I would—and would not— accept.
And guess what? My world hasn’t fallen apart the way I have always feared it would if I broke the “rules”. In fact, there is a peace that has settled over me that I have never had before. Almost like a spell was broken.
Friends, it wasn’t easy—- but I am pleading with any of you who are in the middle of a chaotic, unhealthy relationship— even if that relationship is with a parent, a spouse, a child or your oldest, dearest friend— consider making a choice and getting free! If you need help finding resources to do that, please reach out to me via email. Remember—change always starts with a choice! And the choice is YOURS.
Until Next Time,
