I Love Twelve-Step Isms

December 13, 2009

I am so grateful that Wifebian does not share a name with either her mother, father or sisters. I would really hate to have their name right now. It would really add insult to injury.

The most recent dramatic conversation revolved around the following facts:

— her little sister will not sign for sperm shipments, even though they live ten minutes across the border in a state that allows interstate shipment of human tissue, because she doesnt want to upset Wifebian’s parents, who apparently do not support mine and Wifebian’s decision to have a kid to such an extent that they would be upset with Wifebian’s little sister if she signed

— her middle sister will not sign for sperm shipments because her husband said no. She wasn’t going to tell us because she doesnt like conflict

— her little sister wants to spend-alone time with Wifebian, but can’t because I am always around, but didnt say anything to anyone because she didnt want to hurt my feelings

— her mother and middle sister think that Wifebian is “whipped” by me

— when I walked into this conversation, Wifebian’s mother pursed her lips and shook her head in short, vigorous bursts, and I left the room. I got a cookie and left the room.

— I came back into the room to support Wifebian, but then Wifebian asked me to leave

— Wifebian and I have processed and all is well between us

I know this whole crazy in-law thing is a broken record by now, but I’m sitting here in the basement alone, stewing in my own juices while they decorate the Christmas tree because :

— I was raised Jewish and dont give a fuck

— I don’t feel welcomed

— I have to do paperwork for my job

In twelve-step recovery they have a term that comes to mind in this situation and that term is “emotional midget”. No disrespect to people with dwarfism and other growth hormone deficiencies, but seriously. That’s what I am dealing with right now. My dad always used to say that he was an “emotional midget” as a short hand for saying that he had difficulties coping with life unmedicated. And I never agreed really because I always felt so emotionally connected to him and understood by him.

But that’s not the point.  As one commenter so astutely remarked, I have 18 days left here, if we get this apartment. If we don’t get the apartment, I wonder what my plan B will be, in terms of not slitting my wrists.

In terms of actual sperm shipments, we might be able to inseminate this month, I have to call the HSA tomorrow to confirm. And, if so, thank goodness for that one 45 year old lesbian friend at work, the one who lives thirty minutes north, and had her twins through IVF.

If we cant afford this month, we will hopefully be living in the state to the north by the end of January, so that we wont have to do something crazy like rely on her family for help.

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12 Responses to “I Love Twelve-Step Isms”

  1. Debbie said

    I just realized why you call your blog abasement. Perfect.

    Also: In-laws are totally the most harrowing parts of marriage so far. Now I know why there is so much comedy about them. I didn’t get it before.

  2. Loaf said

    As a child of emotional midgets (well, on my dad’s side), I feel your pain. It is really impossible to deal with sometimes. The only thing I’ve learned from them is that sometimes when I am so mad I know I will say awful things, I do say “I can’t deal with this until I’ve calmed down” and I leave the room. Hopefully that’s not the same thing.

    Anyway. Sheesh. Good luck.

  3. malea said

    Why does wifebian want to deal with them? They seem like a big unnecessary strain on your relationship. I can only imagine what it will be like when the baby arrives.Gawd!

  4. A. said

    This sounds so toxic I can’t even imagine.

  5. malea said

    Oh and since the inlaws not only don’t support your having a baby or a marriage from what i see,but have also forbid anyone else from helping you then you shouldn’t have to worry about visitation or setting grandma/grandpa boundaries,etc.

    Now why again are you in that damn basement!!!!!

  6. mrsbasement said

    we moved into the basement, because, originally, we were only going to be here for one year and the idea of putting a year’s worth of rent toward credit cards was awesome.

    But then I realized that I am thirty two and cannot sustain two interstate moves within 12 months *and* have a baby.

    I also realized that I can’t get along with her family.

    Wifebian doesnt want to be in the basement any longer either and last night she acknowledged that she had no idea how hard this would be. we are eager to leave.

  7. Ack. Thank goodness you are moving out soon (hopefully).

  8. Keely said

    Oh please oh please get out of there. I am glad Wifebian sees the need. That you’ve managed to restrain yourself poisoning everyone else’s cookies is a fete unto itself.

    Ughh!

  9. MamaDeux said

    Oh, ugh, ugh, ugh. I can see why you need to get out of there ASAP. The last thing you need is to feel unwelcome and unsupported in your own freaking living space. In-laws! Who needs them?? Bah, anyway. Hope you get that new place.

  10. Persephone said

    Bummer. Good luck getting your apartment. Sounds like you need it, desperately.

    Your in-laws don’t sound that different from my family, but luckily my wife does not have to deal with them on a daily basis. My in-laws are actually wonderful and feel more like family than my blood relatives.

  11. backlist said

    this sounds unbearable for both of you. I wish I had an excellent platitude (isn’t that an oxymoron?) to offer you but instead I’ll give you a humorous story about my own in-laws to read when and if (and only then) you feel like hearing other in-law stories. http://backlist.wordpress.com/2008/12/27/dont-sit-on-the-parthenon/

  12. thebao said

    ugh, I am so glad you are getting out of there.

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