I am making this formal because apparently when I talk normal everyone says I am being emotional, so fine, here is my official little report from the family circus department. The topic is toxic family members, which is a fancy term for people who know exactly what button to press because they probably installed the button during childhood. My family is not the worst in the whole world, I am not saying that, because then someone will appear from a wall and say I am exaggerating again. But they are tiring in a very professional manner. They do not shout always. Sometimes they do worse. They sigh. They look disappointed like I have failed a quarterly performance review. They say things like “we only care about you,” and then somehow I feel like I was hit by a polite chair. I do not know how that works, but it works. The toxicity is not even dramatic enough to make a good movie. It is more like a very long boring meeting where everyone denies there is a meeting.

My mother has the skill set of a senior guilt manager. She can turn one missed phone call into a national emergency with emotional supply chain problems. My father mostly says nothing, which sounds peaceful, except his silence is not silence, it is a whole legal document with no words in it. My cousin is like public relations, always explaining to other people that I am “going through something,” when what I am going through is mostly them. My sibling collects information like a little family database and later uses it in arguments when nobody asked. I have also made mistakes, because I am not a saint in a sweater. Sometimes I snap. Sometimes I say something ugly, and then congratulations, the whole original issue disappears and my tone becomes the murder weapon. This happens so much that I almost admire the process. It is very efficient and also stupid. I could say, “You hurt me,” and they hear, “Please begin court proceedings about my attitude.”

People say set boundaries, like it is a small household chore. Just set boundaries. Just communicate. Just use “I statements.” Thank you, very helpful, next maybe I will simply relocate the moon. Boundaries in my family are treated like a cyber attack. If I do not answer, they escalate. If I answer shortly, I am cold. If I answer fully, I am argumentative. If I say no, I am selfish. If I say yes, then the service contract renews forever and I must keep doing yes until I die or become furniture. I tried being calm. I tried being mature. I tried being funny. I tried pretending I did not understand the insult. I tried explaining the insult, which was a major mistake, because then we had a workshop about why I am sensitive. I even tried forgiveness, but they treated it like a subscription they can keep using without payment. That is the whole operational problem;

So now my plan is not noble or cinematic. I am not going to stand in the rain and deliver a speech about my wounds. I will probably just answer less and become a boring government office. “Noted.” “I cannot attend.” “That does not work for me.” “I am going home now.” No long explanation, because explanations are just raw material for the family factory. I will not tell them every detail of my life, because they do not handle data security well. I will not debate my childhood at dinner between potatoes and someone’s loud opinion. I will not accept surprise interrogations in kitchens. If the conversation becomes weird, I will leave before I start talking like a villain. This sounds simple but it is not. I still feel guilty. I still wonder if I am the problem. I still make fake speeches in my head where everybody finally understands me and says sorry in complete sentences. Then I remember these people cannot even admit who finished the orange juice.

The sad funny part is I do love some of them. That is inconvenient. Toxic family is not like toxic soup where you just do not drink it. It is more like soup that also raised you and knows your birthday and maybe once drove you to school. So I am not pretending this is easy. I think dealing with them means reducing contact without making a parade out of it. It means saving my energy like a limited budget. It means being polite but not available for every emotional fire drill. It means accepting they will say I changed, when really I just stopped being the free help desk for everyone’s bad mood. Maybe they will never understand. Maybe they will keep calling me dramatic, cold, selfish, difficult, or whatever word is on discount that week. Fine. I am doubtful about peace, but I am interested in quiet. Quiet seems realistic. Quiet seems cheaper. And frankly, at this stage, cheaper is good.

Stories in the same category