Blogs on a Life Time of What If's?

Game Playing

Sibling relationships can be interesting. There is competition and there are the inevitable fights and arguments however, at a time of crisis there is the certainty they will be there for each other, but like everything in life, there are the exceptions to the rule leaving a sense of disappointment and cynicism.

The recognised brand name ‘Broken Families’ us usually associated with the term ‘Divorce’, but there are broken families who hang together for the sake of the children. Such was the case in my own family. My parents disliked each other intensely, had done from they day they walked down the aisle. As a child watching the malicious mental and emotional abuse I remember wishing they would divorce hoping for some peace to gather myself and my thoughts. I did get my wish but by then, the damage was done.

Game playing is a foible of human nature, unconsciously in the most part, we say or do what needs to be done in order to achieve our ultimate aim. We frown upon manipulation or harming another to reach a goal, and yet, as parents we run a danger of doing exactly this under the pretext of keeping our children safe. Mum was a dab hand at manipulation, it was her game plan when all else failed. She would often sit us down for what seemed hours talking at us about a situation she had dreamt up over night, and by the end of the conversation we would come to realise she had convinced herself it had actually happened. In my case, war would erupt and accusations would fly over something that not only had never happened but hadnt in fact crossed my mind. As far as I could understand, it was a no win situation and the only way out was to apologise for something I hadnt done.

Mother/daughter, father/son relationships are known for their moments of competitive controversy. In Mum’s and my case our relationship was a never ending contest of wills. Mum’s determination that I should become a mirror image of who she imagined herself to be was equalled by my determination that I should be anyone other than, combatting the intrusion with passive aggressive behaviour. Our relationship became a game of cat and mouse and the only way to hide was to tell her what she wanted to hear.

Before Mum passed away, we had the oddest conversation. We were strangers communicating through a concrete wall sensing the other’s thoughts frightened to put words to those thoughts. I overheard her explain to a friend later that we had come to an understanding. I think back to that moment now and find myself scratching my head. What understanding had we reached? That we loved each other but didnt like each other?