Until one or both of us take our 50+ year-old set of insights and expectations of respectful civility to heart, along with the resentment that's built atop the insult we feel when those agreements are dismissed or worse, argued about, and we snap.
I did, recently, after seeing what I'll delicately categorize as a hygienic health hazard, one which we had already vehemently insisted not be repeated, be repeated. I got pissed, livid even, and pretty much said he had to 'move the fuck out'. I don't want to deal with somebody who won't walk the line we drew and they signed off on. Repeatedly.
Yet here's where the big challenge came for me - having just written about trying to learn from a recent event, the trigger was pulled again. Sometimes triggers jam, and the next thing you know, you're in rapid fire mode, shooting off insults and blasting each other out of pent-up frustrations and building tensions.
We fought. We argued. We shouted. I did my best, which of course could always be better if things reach a point of raised voices, to not 'enter the ring' and do battle. However, that only works with someone who's not triggered into their own fight-or-flight mode. I tried later to approach him again and start fresh, but that wasn't where he was at. The next day, he tried the same, and I was triggered, and it went south. It was a brutally painful way to have spent our morning. The timing sucked. It was his 22nd birthday.
But the timing was what the timing was, I said, and it wasn't about his birthday, it was about our ability to cohabitate. Jen's and my needs within our home are so different from his, as were mine from my mom's when I lived with her while I was in college. I was, in my humble opinion, nowhere near as dismissive as my son can be in some areas, but there are areas he's better at now than I ever was, such as cleaning up after using the kitchen or the griddle.
I can go from 0 to 100 with him, and he does the same with me, based on a whole lot of external factors, legacy triggers, ill assumptions, and knee-jerk reactions. The day before and morning of his birthday were spent mostly voicing battle cries and declaring ultimatums with lifelong consequences.
It was only after a chance to nap following the last of a heated exchange that I finally got my repeatedly requested opportunity to get some space and 'get out of the ring,' where blows were being thrown. And in some manner, the same came about for him. We reached a point where we were ready to listen.
I took him to Alice's for a burger, and we had a chance to talk in an adult-adult manner. The place has a lot of positive history for me with him. It felt good to be there. It also allowed us to explore a few insights as to the source of those triggers, unique to him, with me, and his mom. Then we talked about the aspects of trauma bonding, a challenging but likely instrumental aspect of things for both of us in one way or another. I found that a strikingly insightful observation.
There's a lot to unpack in that. And an opportunity to find a productive way out by being aggressively mindful of triggers and proactively approaching possible conflicts in a mutually collaborative and cooperative manner. Adulting. Not going on the attack, not jumping to the defense, and following through on your commitments and agreements.
This takes me back to that 0-to-100 capability. I am compelled to reflect on my own role in this. My first response to him is routinely based on a lifetime of having lived within a foundation of anxiety. I recognized it as it happened, hated living with it, and although I never adopted it as my own mindset, I now realize how deeply programmed I became because of it. Programmed to make critical snap judgments, assume ill intent and manipulation, and respond as if there were always ulterior motives to every action. I am also coming to realize that his own baseline defensive position, that instinctual first-response he exhibits towards me, one often of irritation, impatience, annoyance, and resentment, was formed well before and throughout the divorce by the underlying and sometimes fully apparent contentions between his mom and me as to the protocols of parenting.
This is an epiphany for me. I hadn't really considered until now just how much my acquiescence and capitulation contributed to the unintentional adoption of behaviors and thought processes required to manage and maintain that dysfunctional situation. Let alone to survive it. And now to begin to recognize it, its scale, significance, the impact it's had. And the opportunities lost to have perhaps managed many of the historical challenges more effectively.
Tommy and I managed to reset and realign. It feels like the struggles were necessary to break through, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. I've already seen him snap back into default mode, but I've gotten a glimpse into another aspect of character typically held close, and I need to remember that when my own default mode reacts to his.
We've had prior moments I consider turning points, such as the Catalina trip or the foot surgery in Stanford. I'm hopeful the next 9 months will be less contentious, less parent-child and more adult-adult, and that we transition out of the quagmire of a dysfunctional bond pattern into something progressive and healthy. And that he gets his bachelor's degree. And that he then 'moves the fuck out' the following month. ;-)