Days Without Incident: Eleven

Trigger warning: suicide & gun mentioned

I’m going to paste a message here from my mother so that we can break it down together. She sent me this on September 12th while I was camping in the Shenandoah for Sean’s birthday (which was on the 13th):

”I love you, Mikaela!  I'm not sure how not communicating is helpful or even healthy!  How does one expect to heal if one doesn't work through the issues at hand.  I will tell you the same thing I tell Ben about Aaron, I pray that nothing happens to me (or Aaron for him) while you are choosing to keep silent.  It will be difficult to heal when the person is gone and you really can't speak to them.  I love you!”

For a normal family, this may just read as slightly narcissistic with some manipulative undertones. However, in this context, we must remember that my mom is in prison, therefore, anything that were to “happen” to her would be by her own will (i.e. starving herself, self-mutilation, or even suicide). It’s not like she could just fall down in the shower or trip down some stairs. Guards are literally watching them at all times. They’d probably write her up for that before they treated the wounds. She knows that I would be able to read between the lines because she knows that I have attempted to take my own life at least three times. This makes her statement even more poignant. But we will return to that. 

Let’s start with whether or not this silence is helpful. Of course, from her point of view, she is losing the one person who would listen to her and not call her out on her bullshit. She’s losing the kid she could always rely on to cuss out her ex husband on court-ordered visitation days, who listened to all her insecurities when the other moms didn’t want to be her friend, the one who braided her hair every night, or, to put it frankly, the kid she used to cry to with a gun in her mouth when things got “too hard”. If we consider it from my point of view, I do think that getting some space from one another will really bring our relationship into perspective. I think she’ll start to realize all of the ways in which she was relying on me as the sole proprietor to her happiness. 

Is the silence healthy? I would say it all depends on whose side you decide to see it from. Are you a mother who desperately needs the support of her children in order to feel like you did something right? Do you cling to your children’s successes as if they were your own? Would you be lost without their affection? If so, then you’ll probably disagree with most of what I have to say. But if you’re a kid who has completely ignored boundaries for the past twenty years and are finally trying to stand up for yourself for once in your life, then welcome to the club. In the silence, we will find peace.  

“Choosing to keep silent” is another funny way to phrase this situation we’ve found ourselves in. In order to protect my own peace, heal my own body and mind, and then make it to a place in which I (MAYBE) will feel comfortable talking to her again, something needs to change. Until that change has been made, there isn’t a bone left in my body that wants to continue being shackled to the pain and suffering of my old life. Change cannot be made if the party at fault refuses to take responsibility. Change cannot be achieved if you’re stuck in denial. 

There are several stages of grief. I started grieving my mother the moment she was arrested. When I didn’t recognize her voice and her self-soothing sobs at the first jail visit, things began to change. I soaked in that river of denial for years. Something inside of me shifted when I started to see the way her lies and manipulation continued to affect my family even behind bars. No doubt, she’s probably bored as hell in there. Family drama might just be better than the TV playing in the common room. But, after almost seven years of zero responsibility taken for any mistake that would have gotten us to this point in our lives, I think I deserve to set a boundary. 

While my mother may not recognize this silence as a boundary, I do believe that it will at least give me the space I need to figure out the parameters of said boundary. I don’t have enough tools in my arsenal to know if this is the right way to handle the situation, but I do know that I am allowed to focus on myself. I am allowed to decide what is worth my energy. Not that I’m deciding my mother is “not worth the energy.” Instead, I’m deciding the best ways in which to interact with her that will not diminish my own. 

I can’t help but feel empathy for each and every mother who has found themselves separated from their family by our criminal justice system. I’ve seen the way it mutates their thoughts and behaviors. I don’t wish this kind of physical and metaphorical distance on any mother and daughter. But, I also know that I deserve kindness. I deserve respect. I deserve to feel empowered and in charge of my behavior. If I'm not speaking with my mother because the little girl inside of me is broken and hurt, just crying out for their suffering to be acknowledged, then that little girl deserves the time and space to feel. I’m not doing this as an adult to be a petty person, to make her feel bad, or to even reconcile the damage that has taken place between my mother and I. If she does happen to hurt herself or take herself away from this existence, I would be sad, of course. Would I blame myself the way that she wants me to? I don’t think so. This isn’t to spite her. I am trying to do this for myself. Thank you all for your words of encouragement.

Thanks for coming to day 11!