In Which I Admit My Stupid Plan

With the blockbuster that was Easter and then the less-stressful, but still not-good-place inducing fun of Father’s Day, I’m going to Michigan in a week. To see my family. I feel anxious about it and then I feel terribly guilty that I feel anxious about it. Which, you know, fun. But I am hoping to do a tour de cemeteries for dead Phillipses. I just need to talk someone into driving over to Pontiac to see Luke and Patience. But their kid, Oscar, died in Marshall, and his kid, Frank, died in Battle Creek, and Grandpa is in Battle Creek. So, that should be easy enough.

And there will be babies! Lots of fat babies. One who has taken up biting as a hobby, I hear, which, all things considered, seems like a fine hobby to have.

Edited to add: So, I called my dad to confirm that Frank is dead in Battle Creek, since it seems weird we would go to Battle Creek at least twice a year every year for my whole live and never once visit his grave and my dad told me that now that my mom can see, she’s going to be mad about how fat I am. So… yeah, this is already going to suck, I can feel it. If you’re keeping track–I will never find a man who will marry me AND apparently my mom will be grossed out by me. Man, you know, this totally feels like concern about my “health” and not at all like an attempt to make me feel insecure and off-kilter.

Ugh.

13 thoughts on “In Which I Admit My Stupid Plan

  1. B, I read your posts like this, and I actually feel my hands clench up on your behalf.

    I am so, so sorry that some folks in your family continually refuse to see what a fantastic, beautiful person you are. And then add insult to the injury by repeatedly telling you their screwed-up views. I don’t know what they get out of it. I just don’t. Just STFU, people who keep hurting our B. Can you not do that for 10 minutes? Please?!?

    I hope your trip can be productive and as pleasant as possible, miss. You deserve that.

  2. Based on your “edited to add,” I would not go. Or I would go and do my cemetery research and skip the family bit altogether.

  3. I’m going to second Rachel’s suggestion. You can’t change anyone else’s behavior but your own, so you won’t get any new results from visiting them. So change your own behavior, and don’t visit.

  4. I agree with all of the above – especially the portion about going and avoiding family. You can’t control how they treat you, but you don’t have to immerse yourself in that – well, bullshit is the only word that comes to mind that truly fits.

    I’m really sorry that exchange happened.

  5. Ooh, or take me with you. I haven’t gotten to bitchslap anybody in a long time. I can be your personal bodyguard. I have my own bullwhip. And a really big stick.

  6. The only stupid part of the plan was sharing any of your prospective pleasure with people who seem unable to be right to you. Is is really so necessary to add stress or would it be ok to bypass the crazy just this once? (Remember, there will be bad vibe whether you include them or you don’t, whether you knock yourself out to be a kind person or not…might as well suit yourself.)

  7. Well, I’m staying with my cousins on one side of town and they’re staying with my aunt and uncle on the other, so hopefully, I can meet babies and look at graves without too much trauma. Going when they’re there sucks, but going when they’re not there to act as a buffer against other family members also sucks. It’s basically the equivalent of using a wall of biting dogs to protect you against deadly pirates.

  8. I agree with your other wise friends: don’t go, if them hurting you emotionally is a certainty, or go take care of the business you want to do, and don’t see them.

    Or if you just cannot bring yourself to do that, decide what kinds of emotional hurt you will not tolerate, and stick to it. It doesn’t actually make you the bad guy to stand up and leave when people say hateful, fatphobic, hurtful things to you; even if socially you have some obligation to those folks, it doesn’t extend to making yourself a target. Go sit with the dead family. The dead family won’t treat you like that.

    You are fantastic. I said so.

  9. This is the kind of instance that would cause my grandmom, upon hearing my story, to offer to write me a note excusing me from whatever was upsetting me. B., would you like me to write you a note excusing you from grumpy folks? It could go something like this:

    Dear friends and family,

    Please excuse B. from unpleasant situations. She’s feeling under the weather and won’t be able to tolerate snarky or grumpy people.

    Love,
    kathleen

    Think about it and let me know!

  10. Can you just not go, do what you want to do for your time off and tell your family that you love them but you just need to be free to explore what is important to you?

    I want to go with you and say “no more” and although I know they love you, I want to say don’t do to her that others have done to me.

  11. If you have to go, please armor yourself in as many ways as possible. Draw an invisible circle of protection and be all “You cannot cross this line, feh!” Summon demons. Something.

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