So, I want to thank everyone who helped and shared some great tips for cooking for people with dietary restrictions. Sorry I was so late in responding.
It’s been hectic. I’ve been helping my MiL with funeral arrangements for her mother in the past couple of days. This is not even something I did with my own grandparents. But their family is so fucked. I don’t even know. Sorry, I’m like a bit shell shocked right now. Although, I think it’s good that I’ve been helping since I am technically not a blood relative so I think my presence has been keeping all of the siblings from fighting more than if I wasn’t there. But I just don’t even know how to navigate all of this stuff. It’s weird, because they are all different and dysfunctional in different ways. I recognize some of the patterns in my own family (I also had an abusive household, and I see correlations between the dysfunctions I have and that my siblings have, and how they differ between us as we all coped in our own way). I guess the main difference is poverty. And the effects of poverty have just amplified all of these issues for them. It is so scary. I don’t know what to do or to think or what my place should be. I don’t want to stir up any more shit but some of it, I’m just like “are you for real, right now?”
Like, one of the siblings kept saying horrible jabs at the other one about the fact that they are two steps away from being homeless and how they were going to be upset by using certain funds because then they couldn’t keep living in the grandmother’s house for as long. Like, you have a comfortable living arrangement and no kids, you are being that spiteful about arguably not that much money. Like, we are talking $250. I don’t even know. I kept my mouth shut but I just feel like it’s such a mess.
Sorry, I am definitely rambling. I’m just. I don’t know. I’m having a hard time because I am trying to be super supportive of my husband and his mother, but I am also a little bit triggered in the fact that I had a similar history of sexual and physical abuse as a child and all of these issues and resentments are being brought to bear because none of that shit was ever dealt with. None of them have really dealt with it and my MiL is the only one who has tried, which is similar to me and my siblings. It does make me scared a little bit. For now, I’ve taken the tactic of choosing the path of least possible resistance. I am not really close with anyone in my family in any substantial way but I visit and pretend everything is fine. Sometimes it is hard, but I limit our visits to a few time a year. But if I chose differently later on, is this what faces me? I feel like this is confirmation of why I consistently eat shit, personally, just to keep the peace. I mean, definitely the last time I tried being open about anything (disclosed a rape) I got met with “we’ll never talk about this again” type shit. Does that shit condense, get exponentially heavier? In 30 years, am I going to be so bitter and cruel?
I don’t even know. Thanks for letting me ramble before my husband gets home for work. I don’t want to unload on him with semi-personal stuff while he is grieving, I don’t think that is fair. I’m just feeling like I got stomped on a little bit. This above my pay grade. I am not a professional mediator. I do want to help but holy shit.