Guess Who’s Coming For An Afternoon Visit?

Tomorrow the abusers are stopping by. I have not actually spoken to them in 3&1/2 months, but have sent curt e-mails to them. Everything is very structured – the time they will be here, where they will be, where my husband will be, and the time they will leave. I’m not very worried or concerned, but I am expecting the catholic guilt-trip my mother likes to use, and the “your grandmother will be dead soon” speech. I know what I would like to say, but I won’t because it would cause more problems and I’m not going to deal with that right now. I’m not worried about them coming here, either. I just don’t care. I’ve written them off, they know it, and they will behave like they are drowning and I need to save them. The visit will be chock-full of what my duties and responsibilities should be, eyes averting when the truth sneaks in, forced laughter, fakey smiles, etc., and trying to get me to make promises about whatever. It’s been played out this way for over 20 years. In the past I’ve given in and paid dearly for it, even to the point of being sexually abused again when I was 28 years old.

I think they really understand that they have no power over me anymore and this visit may be a desperate grasp at getting some of that power back. That’s okay. I feel ambivalent and apathetic now but it could be a rough few days after they leave.

So, I’ll pop the Xanax before they arrive,  make sure hubby is nearby, fake smile my way through it, and say things like “Perhaps”, “Maybe”, and most importantly, “No.”. I no longer even need to practice that last response anymore and that feels good.